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 Posted: Sun Dec 14, 2008 8:29 pm
Two years later and there had been no considerable change. His life had stayed in what could be considered an unimpressive standstill. He still looked the same, having grown no taller or rounder. Constant traveling left him still in lean form, though didn’t gift him with any muscle. His hair was still the same cute, though now the ends were a bit choppier and only slightly longer. He’d get a trim when he returned to Eramus. Though 2 years passed, he didn’t feel any less older and certainly any less wiser. He still felt stilled. His love life was still a poor excuse at random meetings with fleeting strangers in secret so that none could come back to effect his family and their status, and he continued to dodge his mother’s persistence that he find someone else to get engaged. As of now, she felt her son was going to remain lovesick over his ex-fiancé, a Miss Charolet Edel. Rumors were starting to spread that only helped his family that their son was a good caretaker injured by a cruel woman (despite the fact both Charolette and Anthony agreed to split mutually). Despite the fact that Anthony and Charolette said nothing on the real reason, he felt some inward satisfaction that she was being portrayed as a heartless woman who did not have the talent and willpower to stick with a man and go through with a marriage. Still, now it meant more women were hoping to ‘cure’ his ‘injured heart’. His mother wasn’t helping, and the amount of women stopping by the house was enough to make him glad for the brutal trip to Salig.
Despite escaping, he found Salig unbearable. Not only did his more ………… looks get him some glares of disgust from the more Koshka purists in the city, but the chilling cold and high pressure took it’s toll, and his already weak lungs caught a horrible cold. By the time he was done finishing a large map of a nearby cave, the cold, dank air in the cave and the cold, dry hair outside had done their work.
A loud sneeze echoed in the dark cabin as Anthony sat on the stiff bed he was assigned to. Not in the mood, he decided he would sleep off the entire trip and once home, use his illness to keep any of his mother’s hopeful choices from coming near him.
Sniffling, he used a crinkled handkerchief to wipe his pink, kitten nose, sniffling as he sat on the bed, looking over some papers thrown across the mattress as he himself was wrapped in his warm winter jacket. It was the most warmth he could get, considering the blankets didn’t do much work. He tried asking for more, but he had yet to get word on any extras.
Breathing deep, he sucked on a ginger lozenge and read a line of one document 4 times before it caught hold, his mind foggy and thick with pressure. It felt like a vice was squeezing his head in.
His eyes glanced to the extra bed in the cabin. Anthony did not have the luck to get a private cabin, and even if one was available, he doubted it would matter. He just hoped the occupant would not hate him for being ill, or alert the crew. He really didn’t want to go into quarantine.
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Posted: Mon Dec 15, 2008 9:21 am
Two simple years can feel like an eternity. In two years, the young mechanic had three loves lost, a passion crumble, and a new job and a new placement. It was a quite eventful two years. But alas, two years did not give him enough time to find a real love, a female- or male- koshka he could spend his days with.
Lately, the mechanic had been a little lonely. He wished he could have brought his panda he had since he was seven with him on this journey around the continent. But he could not.
He shivered. Salig was a lot colder than the Xorosho. He liked the light white snowflakes that melted on his skin, even though it felt like it was burning, the cold. When he breathed, he watched his breath form shapes in front of him.
He waited in a line in front of a large white ship, something they called a Tram. It would take the boy from Salig to Eramsus, the last place for him to visit in his journey. He stood with a large blue coat lines with fur with his brief case, covered in stickers. He could hardly wait to get out of the cold!
"All aboard tram 12," someone with a deep voice called. It was the flight officer. He wore a blue clad suit with gold trimmings. Sleek black shoes and mutton chops. The mutton chops, to Qliph, looked so horrendous it was funny. They poofed out and were a light blonde. He tried not to laugh. He was grown up, now. Now a child!
The brown haired koshka handed the officer a ticket and got it stamped. He walked up a long, wooden bridge into a door. He felt the weight of the world lift off his shoulders when he entered a long hallway. Yellow-ish walls with wood border down the centre with red carper with an intricate black design. It was a rather fancy tram,to Qliph, and the fanciest, free-est ride he'll ever have in his life.
Walking down the hall, he looked at his stamped ticket. It said cabin 212. He'd be sharing it with another koshka, barely older than him. He didn't mind sharing a cabin. In fact, if he could have chose, he would have picked a shared one, anyway. Being alone made you go crazy and got you talking to inanimate objects. Qliph would know, he's been there.
The young mechanic was called on to the end of the earth for two reasons. The first and foremost was that some mechanical things in the koshka military base needed fixing. Most importantly, an air craft the young male was fascinated with ever since he could remember. It was a three passenger flier loaded with precious gems under pressure for attacking. It was one hell of a sight. Gold, red, and blue paint. All sparkling under heavy duty lights in the biggest warehouse he has ever seen. It was his childhood dream come true. Being able to work on such a beast made him feel like the most important man on earth. He was called to fix this about two and a half weeks ago. As much as he would love to stay and chat, and fix and touch un-touchable things to the commons-folk, and lower folk like he was.. is? , he really missed the Xorosho, and the warmth. He didn't mind the slight cold ont he ship, but having the ends of your fur freeze was horrible! And the colds!
The second reason, was a exotic pet needed help, but couldn't fly over to the Xorosho, and couldn't live in warmer climates. After a beloved died, he started up a animal care clinic. He had a lot more fun with the animals than he expected. He had two employee's, who worked for free. From the goodness of their hearts. They told him, often, their payment was the smiles on the customer's face and the pet.
The shop, sadly, was on the brink of closing. The government of the Xorosho would not lend a penny to the mechanic for his good deed, and was paid for by his own pocket money in his work shop. Although he was paid for his services by the customers, it didn't seem like much more than what he had gotten when he worked in his workshop, alone. Mostly because a good lot of it was spent on food and other significant items for the animals.
He did both rather well, and was given, as a token of appreciation, a free trip on a high class ship. Qliph took the offer, he thought, almost greedily.
Two years, though, didn't change him much either. Half an inch taller, maybe, but not anything too noticeable. More scars, longer hair (which lightened a little), more fuzzies on his chin, and a more 'elegant' look to him, even if he had gained more muscle.
Though, at the moment, he didn't seem like a low-class mechanic.
To board the ship he put on his finest clothes. Well, the finest he had. A fancy, almost white, blue ruffled shirt and a black vest with red trim, though he was too lazy to tuck the leggings of his trousers into his socks.
He really, REALLY, didn't like dressing this way. From the moment he woke up, he had planned to put on something looser and less 'fancy' when he boarded.
There were blankets on board! He would manage!
He yawned while walking down the hall. He hadn't covered his mouth, which made other people give him odd faces. He shrugged it off. Not like he'll see them ever again!
He stopped at a wooden door. The brass plate on it read "212", the same number on his ticket. He smiled, eager to hop into a warm bed. He stuffed, more like crumpled, the little green slip of paper into his pocket and opened the door with his now free hand.
He hoped his cabin mate was not someone that would drive him crazy on this long flight. Someone who would talk about every little thing, or nit pick at his habits, or carry on age long arguments about something stupid, like the philosophy or history, of something stupid.
He threw the door open and the first thing he did, after closing it of course, was take the longest stare at his cabin-mate in the most awkwardest silence he had ever participated in.
((yay for long posts!
I have a weird writing style))
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Posted: Mon Dec 15, 2008 7:57 pm
Anthony had given up reading, and was instead looking at the papers as his mind went blank. He wasn’t really thinking of anything aside from the deep desire for a hot cup of tea. He wondered if it was too early to make demands out of the kichen’s crew to fetch him something hot to drink, though with Salig’s cold weather, he thought it was perfectly rational that a lot of people would ask for something to keep them warm. This lead his mind to bring up the map of the ship in his head.
The mapmaker could memorize an area he had traversed, and usually made a deduction of how many rooms and what was where by general assessment. Unconsciously, he had counted the windows when boarding the ship, and marking the front and back, he made assessments where the engine room would be, captain’s quarters, crew quarters, and a general idea of where the kitchen might be. The real question was where he felt like crawling out of bed, braving pushing through the new people boarding the ship, and asking for some tea. Not only that, but the ginger in his mouth was keeping his typical flying sickness down, and he felt that if he stood up and traversed his way to the kitchen, the toll would make him ill, and he would instead need to rush and find a bathroom (or a open window) instead.
Forgoing both ideas, Anthony instead curled his legs into his body. He had taken off his shoes and his legs were nothing more than covered by tight stockings. He wore short pants and had taken off everything aside from a plain white dress shirt. Over all of this, his heavy winter coat sat on his shoulders as a thick alternative to the blanket that was in his lap and over the bed, already wrinkled. His tail sat on the bed, the white tip swaying back and forth slightly by a expenses document and a fountain pen.
Stifling another sneeze, he heard the commotion of people boarding the ship. Rubbing a watery eye, he went back to a document and looked at more than read it. He was fighting the urge to actually keep up with his paperwork, or just curl into the blankets and pass out until it was time to get off the ship. It would have been nice if he just remained unconscious the entire time instead of feeling sick.
It was then that he heard the door open and Anthony gave a glance up to the door, awaiting the arrival of his cabin mate and hoping it was not someone who would mind his sniffles.
The long glaze lasted for what felt like hours as the pair locked eyes.
The man before him echoed distant memories, only visited late at night when Anthony was alone in his bedchambers. After 2 years, Qliph had no longer been the most recent lover he had taken on, and he would have fallen into a distant memory if Qliph had not been one of the few people who exceeded a one night stand. Not only that, Qliph was the only person that Anthony had left a note. It was unusually for the mapmaker to do and he continued to reflect why he had done so, wondering if it was guilt or pity.
In either case, Anthony was secure in believing he would remain a memory, so seeing him again caused a damn to break and a flood of distant memories to assault him out of nowhere, sending a distant tremor through his body and a flush to his features (which he hoped would be masked by his cold).
“Qliph?” He choked, unsure. The man before him looked older, dressed more refined than the tatters he worse before, and looked a bit wilder in his appearance, but the eyes and stature all seemed familiar and all belonged to the Qliph he only knew for a brief time long ago.
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Posted: Mon Dec 15, 2008 8:15 pm
Qliph blinked. He didn't know how he should reply. Should he ignore him or reply kindly? He had a twisted emotion of anger and a longing to cry and be held. When 'a stranger' left a note on his table that day, he spent the rest of the day in bed, nearly into tears. He didn't know why, either. He knew it wouldn't last, the two koshka. It was probably the fact that 'everyone leaves him'.
His tail twitched and he blinked again. He was finding it hard to believe that his cabin-mate was someone he knew. He gave a worried, sad-happy smile and set his luggage down. "You have a cold, stranger," he said, taking off his coat, pretending he didn't know him. Or maybe, he said 'stranger' becuase that is what the other koshka left on the note? Either way, saying 'stranger' felt more appropriate than 'Anthony' to him.
He threw his coat over the end of the bed and it limped and fell to the floor. Also in this time did he slip off his vest. It was thrown on top of his winter coat. It was hotter in the tram than expected... and they were still in Salig!
He bent down over his luggage and opened the biggest compartment. There, he drew out a large rolled up map. It was tied neatly with a black string. He sat on the edge of his bunk and unwound the string and opened the map.
The one a stranger left him.
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Posted: Mon Dec 15, 2008 8:56 pm
Since Anthony had only a long list of one night affairs, mostly who worked in specific houses that catered to such exploits, he never had to face his partners afterwards. That was the point. No emotional connection outside from one night’s gratification. It was something he adopted ever since Charolette, her ex-fiancé, and the man she went with, Mardicho, had their affair. Ever since that, he had lost faith in marriage and long term relationships. Because of that, he didn’t stay past one night.
The situation as unusual and something that caused his heart to race, unsure how to address the situation properly. There was no degree of etiquette for meeting someone you stayed with for a few days, slept with one night, and then left without nothing more than a little note. The feeling of being lowly scum crawled into his mind and he felt his insides twist in such complicated knots that it would make a well-seasoned sailor amazed.
At the name ‘stranger’, his ears shot back and flattened against his head. Part of him wondered if the man was actually Qliph, but spending a night with someone, looking intently in those eyes, and you didn’t forget, even after 2 years. Still, to have that gave from before, which had been vulnerable and yearning, to that of a cold, stoned stare froze his insides and he shot his gaze down, ashamed.
“Hmm. I see. I guess I made a mistake.” He said, deciding that if this was how the game would be played, then that was how it would be. It seemed distantly foolish that he would think that Qliph would just speak to him warmly as if they were old friends. Not after a night like that, and with 2 years for emotions to fester, Qliph probably held a lot of resentment for him. If anything, Anthony should be surprised Qliph wasn’t stuffing a gun down his throat.
“I apologize for my cold. I’ll try not to bother you.” Anthony said, forcing his words to remain neutral and polite, and keeping the swimming pool of emotions that was making his throat burn and his stomach twist (or maybe that was the flight sickness creeping up on him?).
Reaching down, he gathered his papers and things, deciding that sleeping might be the best thing to do, or else finding the kitchen and staying there as long as he could. Maybe he could find a cozy crawlspace to lay down and die in peace.
As he put his things into his bag, he started to slip on his shoes and glanced to see Qliph open up a large map. In 2 years, he had forgotten about the map he had given Qliph, but seeing the familiar details that were his own, his head swam with nostalgia. It had been a map he had worked on several nights for his own pleasure, hoping to show his master how well his teachings had gone, but instead, he gave it to Qliph. It was one of his private masterpieces. He gave it to Qliph in hopes he would forget Anthony and go traveling, away from that hole he lived in and not waste his life. That, and he felt guilty even that morning for leaving him the way he was. Guilt that was now coming back from 2 years in the grave.
He averted his eyes to tying his shoes and rising, slipped his coat tighter about him. There was no doubt it was Qliph.
Anthony stood a moment, wondering if he should say where he was going, or if he wanted something from the kitchens. Instead, he gave a curt nod, and left. Anthony would rather risk throwing up to get to the kitchens than staying with Qliph while he unloaded his things. If Anthony had any luck, he could avoid Qliph for the entire trip and simple come in at night to sleep.
Still, walking down the hallway to the kitchen, he wondered if his cold would let him. It felt like he would have to stay in bed after he got his tea. At that moment, Anthony wished for a sickness a million times worse than this situation.
((Anthony is just going to get tea and come back. He'll be staying in the room. He won't be going anywhere for long.))
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Posted: Tue Dec 16, 2008 4:39 pm
Qliph had traced a trail from Salig to Erasmus with his finger. He guessed it would be at least three days. Give or take. Then again, he was horrible at timing things, missing two flights, one ship, and having to wait in line on several occasions for being too early. He needed a good reliable source of time. Standing and making shadows with your body was not only funny to look at, was not as accurate as he would have liked. Especially when it was cloudy or in the darkness. Street lights were no substitute for the sun, which moved.
He looked up at his cabin-mate an then back to his map when the other koshka left. He didn't look well. Getting air-sick himself, he knew the best hing to do was sleep your way through the days that made it feel like you were going to die. He found it ironic, living on the Xorosho, and still getting sick on trams and ships like this. He did not get sea sick, only air sick.
Then, he felt the ship leave the dock. It gave a large shake and an unsteady feeling. He knew it was the safest way to travel, but he was always afraid that one might fail and fall, or somehow malfunction and kill everyone aboard. This did not help his air sickness. He didn't like being so high, unable to touch solid ground. The Xorosho was at least big enough to host a park - ground, grass, trees, and ponds! It was different, even if it was one of the highest things aloft. It felt sturdier and safer. At least they wouldn't drown if they ran out of fuel.
He rolled up his map and tucked it under his pillow. He tied the black sting that held it rolled up around his wrist when he crossed his legs.
He forgot to go to the bathroom before leaving.
He fidgeted, waiting for his cabin mate to come back to ask if on his travels he came across the bathroom. Two, three, five minutes passed. To him, it felt much longer and he couldn't hold it. He turned sharply to his bag and left a note, saying he went to find the bathroom. His handwriting did not look like mere chicken scratches anymore; but actually readable and almost fancy. He printed in capitals, though, it was faster to him making short cuts with some letters and threw it towards Anthony's bunk.
Being a piece of paper, it didn't float all the way across the carpeted space between the beds. Qliph didn't notice it fall just shy of the other bed thinking that the longer he waited, the worse the uncomfortable feeling got. He took a deep breath when he confronted the door, and turned the brass knob and went into the bright hallway.
Through the hall, he tried his best to hold it in and not ridicule himself in front of the more higher class folk of the world. He walked as fast, but as normal, as he could.
He first went left, out of his door. He hoped that when he reached the far left of the tram, that the holy bathrooms were at the other end!
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Posted: Tue Dec 16, 2008 6:30 pm
Unlike Qliph, Anthony had an impeccable sense of direction. His father would fondly say he would be the treasure of any ship, and that the skies was in his blood. A long lineage of family aviation history aside, his mother’s genetics of motion sickness and pressure sensitivity was taking hold, and he pressed his handkerchief to his mouth, feeling his stomach sway with the motion of the ship. It was the ascending to clearer skies that did the most damage, as the pressure of the air changed rapidly. Anthony already knew that a few people would be taking the bathrooms as there was always a few first travelers who had yet to experience the many joys of air sickness.
Despite being sick, he had had a mouthful of ginger candy before the departure and had taken a few motion pills he always carried before. It would keep him from puking for the first hour, and by then, he hoped to be sleeping.
Finding the kitchens, he asked for tea. By the expression of few cooks, it seemed he looked like he was about to throw up, and they quickly gave him a cup of tea before stepping back. Sitting down, he risked burning his tongue and drank down the heated concoction, glad for the soothing refreshment. At least if he spilled his cookies later, he would have something in his stomach to give up.
Done, he thanked them for the tea and left, passing the bathroom and holding the handkerchief firmly to his mouth. It had peppermint oil on it to clear his mind and nasal passages, along with quelling his stomach. Anthony had traveled enough to have every remedy in the book that he could carry aside from getting a steel stomach. (An invention he read in the paper last Sunday. The picture for the article showed a smiling tabby Koshka with a wide grin and tapping a ballooned stomach proudly, as if you could hear the tink of metal.)
On his way to the room, he noticed one of the crew members of the ship’s staff. Idea in mind, he went up and politely gave a bow to his head in greeting. The man was a fluffy white Koshka, with a stern face similar to a congested Persian. “May I help you?” Asked the Persian, tapping a clipboard in irritation.
“I was wondering if you had any private rooms I could upgrade to? I know I would have to pay a fee, but I’m in a particular situation that deems it necessary that I have a room of my own.” Anthony said, trying his best his tea down as he felt the ship jolt.
The Persian looked at his features with a bit of mild disgust, and looked down at his clipboard. Anthony took the opportunity to wipe his brow in hopes it would fix his appearance some. All these looks were really making him wish he had a mirror on hand to see how badly he looked. Was he really that sick?
“No available rooms. I guess you will just have to work though the one you have.” The man said.
“Are you sure?” Anthony said, a slip of desperation in his voice. Part of him was wondering if he had enough in his pocket to bribe the Persian, but from the stern gaze, he guessed the man was not one for bribery.
The look he got from the Persian said that he knew what he was saying, was offended Anthony wanted to double check is word, and any further discussion was not terminated.
Defeated, Anthony said a quick ‘thank you’ for the man’s troubled before skittering off to his room. The prospect of returning to Qliph was not one he wanted to bear. Unfortunately, he was far too tired to think of any new plans and would have to wake in the morning to think of something else. Right now, he was drained and he felt he would pass out.
Dizzy, Anthony opened the door to find Qliph gone. Part of him wondered if he too was looking for an alternative way to escape their situation, and hoped Qliph found better luck than he did. Breathing deep, he slipped off his shoes and went to his bed, eyes blurring from the heat from his own forehead. Not bothering to take off his own jacket, he slipped into the folds of his blanket and curled into a tight ball, curling his tail around him. He gave off a few escaping coughs, before he cuddled into his soft pillow and let himself drift.
If he had any luck, the trip would soon be over without Qliph seeking revenge in his sleep. If the Koshka decided to kill him, he hopes it was quick.
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Posted: Tue Dec 16, 2008 6:58 pm
Faster, the koshka went with a strained expression. He wished he asked before he got on where those damned bathrooms where! They were an important part of.. Everything! He didn't want to ask for directions, he decided, for it would make him seem unsophisticated and childish to be doing a dance and to ask about for the nearest godly-contraption.
Finally, he broke down and asked and then wanted to stab himself when he got a reply. Not only did the woman look disgusted, he had apparently walked past it three times in his epic journey up and down the hall. But, there were two on the ship. On here, and one down at the other end. Glad to know he didn't have to walk all the way back, he shouted a thank you to the aristocrat and ran back the way he came.
"Ahhhhh..." a long hard sigh of relief shivered out of his body as he relieved himself. He was in too much of a hurry to get here on time to pee at his rental. Yep. He decided he would definitely get a watch or something at their next stop.
He swayed happily, and sickly, as he walked back to his room, with an expression like a child who just went potty by himself. He decided to take the walk leisurely and counted how many doors he saw and other great 'land marks' to make sure he got to the right place and to say 'Passed the hall! Almost there!" in encouragement as he ran back later.
For the second time, he stopped at the door that read 212. His room, as well as an old.. acquaintance. He sighed. He knew he was going to be over-conscious of Anthony and probably won't get any sleep.
He opened the door and closed it swiftly and shouted" Hey Anthony! I'm Back!" He yawned and took the rest of his white shirt off and threw it atop of his collection of his clothing at the foot of his bed. He stretched, too, and attempted to touch the ceiling of the cabin, but was way off.
He swayed. The air ship had a lift under a wing which made him queasy and anxious. He staggered towards his bed and flopped onto the soft sheets. He curled up in them and rolled over when he saw his cabin mate curled into a ball on the other side of the room. He blinked and smiled. It was cute.
he decided, after a few moments of being too conscious of everything- sounds, mostly- he sat up and leaned over the bed. He fell out, of course, but at least he was closer to his bag. He opened the biggest compartment and took out a large book and a pencil. He smiled and regained position in the middle of a nest of blankets and leaned against the wall.
Pencil and paper in hand, he decided to pass the time, to sketch the koshka. It would calm him and keep his mind off everything else.
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Posted: Tue Dec 16, 2008 7:17 pm
Anthony jolted when he heard his name, but he barely had the energy to jump up surprise. Instead, he stayed where he was laying, and listened as Qliph walked in and listened to the bed creak as Qliph sat upon it. Apparently his cabin-mate had shrugged off the ‘stranger’, and he wondered why he sounded so joyful just now. The tone and his actual name was not something he expected Qliph to use together in this entire trip, at least not with Anthony pulling some miracle (and probably an apology).
Part of him was touched and deeply wondered if he was somehow forgiven, but suspicion, apprehension, and guilt stomped that idea down. Anthony knew that if someone had slept with him one day and just left the next morning, that he would….well, okay, not him, but a normal person would have been angry, and would have held a grudge. Then again, Anthony remembered how cheerful Qliph was and how things like grudges and hate didn’t seem to be a option that lasted long for the Koshka. Even when the mechanic told him of all the people that wronged him, the neighbors who shunned him, and the parents who dumped him, that he didn’t feel the need for revenge. Still, it seemed wrong. Anthony felt he deserved it.
Laying there, he didn’t turn, and instead listened. “You’ve changed.” He said, in reference to both the fact he changed from his previous glaring when they first met, and also to how he looked now.
Part of him wanted to talk to Qliph. To know if he did the things he had wished for, brimming with hopes, and also to speak to someone from the past. Anthony rarely had lovers that lasted long, and the temptation of a emotional connection was sweet enough to lure him in conversation for a few moment, not matter how much he told himself that he would stay back emotionally and physically. He didn’t want to hurt the Koshka a second time.
He wondered if Qliph would talk to him or ignore him, but either way, he laid in his bed, back to the other with his eyes closed. If he didn’t speak, then the distance between them would made it easy for them to leave without thinking each other, and he could just sleep now. If he talked…he could at least find out if he had somehow crushed Qliph from pursuing his dreams. He didn’t want to feel responsible to breaking Qliph’s wings before he took off in life. He was still younger than Anthony.
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Posted: Tue Dec 16, 2008 7:37 pm
Qliph's ears twitched. Glad he didn't move to disrupt his drawing, depressed he didn't roll over to talk. A talk was something he wanted. There was so much to catch up on from a two year part.
"Changed? Two years is a long time. Of course I did." he ignored the fact he had ignored him then shouted at him as if they were back in his home again. "A lot of things have changed."
He continued to sketch, frantically erasing a wonky line that just would not straighten. His sketching had gotten faster and cleaner, and he thought he perfected the picture from his favourite book with the lady coming out of the water and materializing. He actually sold one thing to a child's mother, once. It was the highlight of that month.
He continued to scribble and refine shapes and lines, filling in shading here and there. He wished Anthony had turned over. It was no fun drawing a lump. He could just jump outside on the streets of Salig and a draw lumps. Anthony looked like the shape of a snow bank he used as a land mark near his rental. A lump.
Deciding it was 'good enough' he tore it out and tossed it, having it fall between the beds again. He was too lazy to lean over and pick it up. He doubted Anthony would want a scribbly image of a lump on a bed, either.
He silently waited for a response, not sure how to continue, or start, the conversation. He leaned back again and stared at the new blank page in the book figuring out what to draw next.
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Posted: Tue Dec 16, 2008 7:49 pm
A conversation it was. It seemed despite it all, both was eager to know what 2 years time had done to the other. A man from aristocratic upbringing, the mapmaker knew the etiquette of conversation. Even sick, one had to present themselves and the person they addressed with respect, and having your back to that person was not a good form of manners.
Despite wanting to lie down, Anthony heaved himself up, hair flat and a bit wild from laying on the pillow, with a few pieces sticking to his hot brow. Slowly turning over, he sat on his bed, arranging the blankets about his lap and looking up with dull eyes at the other across the room. He gave a curious glance to the sketchbook on the man’s lap and wondered if he had been drawing or wanting to draw. Not much in the room really for artistic purposes really. A nightstand, a overhead lamp, and four walls.
“I guess that is true. Things are bound to change in 2 years. You certainly look older, and may I comment on your attire. Can I gather that you are being successful in…pardon, what are you doing now these days? Still working in mechanics, or have you gained the dream of flying around the world?” Anthony had a image of his mind of Qliph proudly standing alongside a brilliant aircraft, smiling proudly. “ I see you are at least traveling.” Which was something. If he could rationalize that Qliph was doing better now, then he wouldn’t feel as bad about leaving him suddenly that one night. Instead, he could dismiss that he had no effect on the lad and that he was doing just find.
Breathing deep, he reached over and into his bag, fishing out a wrapped ginger lozenge and slowly slipping it into his mouth. If he continued to talk without something to soothe his throat, he would start coughing and his throat would dry up, becoming more raw, which would make talking impossible.
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Posted: Tue Dec 16, 2008 8:05 pm
Qliph gave up thinking and tucked the note book and pencil under his pillow along side the map. It was true. Nothing much artistic the room unless Anthony posed. And he knew he would never, ever, do that!
He cracked his fingers to relieve stress and smiled. "I guess you could say that. I have an animal care clinic along side my mechanics shop. No more baby sitting." He was almost glad. Too many little rascals were popping up. Moving in, growing up, allowed outside, curious. What ever. He felt as if there was a baby machine somewhere.
He folded his hands and brought them to his mouth to think. "Mmmm. I was called to Salig to fix an aircraft. One I've always wanted to be near since I was a child. It was a dream come true, but I nicked myself bad on the arm," He pointed to a cut lined with blue thread-like stitches. It was already healing over. "and scratched the paint. I felt horrible about the paint."
Again he fetched his bag and pulled out this time a photo. It was of a white and gray animal. Feline. He handed the glossy print to the other and leaned back in his comfy bed again. He pulled a blanket around himself like a cloak, his chest no longer exposed. He blankly stared off into a low corner on the floor, away from the conversationalists eyes. " I had to help the poor kitten. It was malnourished and needed a certain type of nutrient. I don't have a degree in animal care, - or Mechanics - but I know enough to keep me going. My two jobs has gotten me to travel a bit." He gave a sly grin and looked up. He leaned in close and spurred his lips. "This ride, was free." he whispered, and leaned back.
He rand a hand over the front of his hair when he nestled back into his nest of blankets again. His hair was tied back in a neat pony tail like he had two years ago. But now, less strands stuck out; it took less time to tie it up, too. "What about you? Certainly you did something more than run around and draw maps in two years. That's obvious. Anything real interesting?"
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Posted: Tue Dec 16, 2008 8:30 pm
Anthony listened with half open eyes, but perked attention, curling into the blankets as if hearing a story before lulling to sleep. His tail curled about his slender legs as he listened, inwardly pleased that Qliph’s life had changed for the better. No longer was he the subject of insults in his hometown, being used for cheap labor, barely making end’s meat at his shop, and never leaving his home, dreams stunned. Now he was seeing aircrafts he always wanted, opening a animal clinic that made Anthony think of Qliph’s deep love for Tantan, and traveling. He had changed, far from the sheltered youth from before, and was more mature, experienced, and traveled. The tiny nick on the man’s arm made him think of the time Qliph burned his hand on the weird aircraft he was trying to put together, and the kitten made him think of Tantan. Qliph had too large of a heart, and it was that heart that made Anthony worry that he would have and would be hurt easily in the future. Thus far, he seemed to have faced the world just fine. Maybe it was all in Anthony’s head.
Leaning, he returned the picture to Qliph, though was lost as to what to say. Everything about Anthony’s life was secret. He did not tell his family what he did. The blackmail with Taka and running errands for a cruel man who could potentially ruin his family’s reputation. The fact he met his older sister and talked about his ‘father’, and an offer to deliver maps to secret Koshka organizations to fuel Koshka supremacy. All of these things were not things he wanted to talk about. Essentially, he did nothing more than make maps in the end. He did not change, and he felt a inward sigh that he made no progress in the long run.
“I’m sorry to disappoint, but I still am making maps. I have been certified now, though I still work under my own master since it creates the most work. I actually have my own map-making shop, but I have someone else look over the workers while I take on bigger projects to gain more experience and notoriety. I am still not as notorious as my master was, and it’s best to get experience while I’m still able and run a shop when I’m too old to be rushing about. Aside from that, I have nothing to note. I simply work to maintain my family. I came to Salig to make a map of one of the mines they are excavating. Typically I do not go as the air pressure and cold do not work well with me, but I needed more underground experience and the commission was from the Salig’ Exploratory and Resources Department, which I could not argue against. It makes a nice reference in the end. Still, such harsh weather has only left me with a cold.” He didn’t feel to much had happened in his life. He did not even open the shop himself. His mother wanted him to expand and break from his master, and entertained herself for a month by creating the business, yet was disappointed that Anthony did not stay in it. He did not like the responsibility, but picked the workers to know that they would not damage his name of the shop. It did help that a percentage of the overall commission of the shop went to his family, which meant he did not have to work as hard…or so his mother said. He probably could take a vacation and live off of the many small businesses his family had, but he could not be idle. He didn’t want to be home, but he didn’t have any other places he wanted to be at either. Work kept his mind busy and gave him an excuse as to why he never did anything more with his life.
Anthony found it ironic that 2 years ago, he pushed Qliph to make something in his life, which Qliph did, and in those 2 years, he had done little. Then again, he didn’t have any dreams to pursue. He lost that when he was much younger.
Not liking to think of himself, he looked back up at Qliph. “I see you have done a lot. You are doing well, have your own practice, and even have seen the ships you admired 2 years ago. I’m glad you have pursued your dreams. You have done more than half the people in the world have done, and that is actually pursue your dreams. You should be very proud of yourself.” He commented, bowing slightly in respect and politeness before rising. He felt a bit dizzy from it, but instead leaned against the wall, moving the lozenge in his mouth as it melted.
“So the question is now, what will you do now after this? Are you going to pursue a degree in Mechanics or Animal Care? Look into aircrafts? Travel more? I hope you do travel more. There is plenty to see.” He didn’t want Qliph to stop now. He wanted Qliph to become everything he wanted. Anthony could see freedom and possibility in Qliph. He had not family, no obligations, and had life before him, with many paths to take. Inwardly, he was envious of the other.
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Posted: Wed Dec 17, 2008 6:27 pm
"Did you find any new places of the world?!" he exclaimed excitedly, taking back the photo with delicate fingers and grasped the corner of the photo. He held it delicately in the palm of his hand. He stroked it with his thumb. His tone depressed as he continued. "I'm not sure. Maybe Animal Care. Ever since Tantan passed on..." He trailed off. It pained him to think of her, now. She died a year ago when a child gave her some chocolate. Though the child did not know better, Qliph blamed himself for not keeping an eye on her and the children. He knew something was wrong when she barely moved for three days before becoming a stiff, cold, lifeless carcass of a jigsaw piece deep in his heart. When she died, he started taking care of some animals, knowing how hard it was to lose someone you considered so much as family.
He returned the photo into his bag. He sat upright again to pull on the blanket to tighten it around his and slouched over again. "Thanks..." He said, a little embarrassed at the compliment. "I try my best. I accomplished my dreams. I have a thought... that in your life, you accomplish all the dreams you want and those who don't obviously didn't try enough. Or didn't try at all. I quote I read, "You can accomplish so much more than you think you can. All you have to do is try." , seems to be more true than it seems.
He shifted his weight, wiggling his hips back a little. His tail wasn't as groomed (as if it ever was!) than two years ago. Random tufts poked out here and there. He was almost too busy in Salig to groom!
"Mmmm...." He tried to board the train of thought, "So.. Found any love yet? Settle down? Kids?
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Posted: Wed Dec 17, 2008 7:16 pm
Anthony had wondered why Qliph was not traveling with Tantan, though had chalked it up to Qliph being too busy and probably leaving it in someone else’s care. Possibly someone working at his Clinic. At the news of the creature’s death, even Anthony gave a moment’s silence in respect. He wasn’t particularly fond of animals, but Tantan had managed to grow on him in the short time he was with Qliph, and he new that with time, he could see himself growing tender to the red panda.
“I’m sorry to hear that. You gave her a good life.” He said, hoping to soothe the sting, and not pressing the grave topic.
When marriage was mentioned, he was tempted to go back to talking about death instead, and glanced to the side, coughing with a slight blush he hoped Qliph would think was his feaver. “No. I am not married, though my own mother is working with the local ladies to corral me into a pair of wedding bands. It’s partially the reason I keep myself busy and traveling. I know at some point I will marry. It would become too unusual if I did not, and someone to maintain a house does have it’s perks. However, I’d like some well established funds before I bind myself to someone who will surely like to spend them.” Anthony talked about marriage in the tone someone would talk about adding a new wing to their house, or opening a new account at the band. Buisness. Anthony had little regards for marriage aside from the fact that it would create good family ties with other families from higher circles, and it would make him and his family look presentable. As of right now, he looked well for taking care of his sister and mother, but there was a point where his dedication to his family would be seen as odd if he did not marry.
It wasn’t much of a big deal, but Anthony would have to find someone who did not desire passion and instead would like the comforts of running a house with a husband who was away often and who would not demand children from him or his company. Someone who did not desire her husband’s comfort, but would also not run off with the nearest servant. He had mixed feelings on children. The fact that he would not have any heartfelt love for his wife aside from the obligations of society stabbed at him, though it wasn’t like he didn’t engage in physical acts with women without loving them before. It was the idea of having children that spooked him. He didn’t know, as his father’s son, if he would be any good, and he feared he would do more harm than good. He’d rather not have any if he could, or as few as possible.
He just had a very low view of marriage. After Charolette and Mardicho, he had lost faith in strong connections. His lover’s ideas he had in the past had been long stomped out by bitterness.
“I simply do not feel the need to rush. I’m not much of the marrying type to begin with.” He admitted, and glanced back up to Qliph.
“How about you? Have you met anyone? Children?”
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