•˚Allen˚•
After I had announced my proposition, the beautiful girl of blond shot me a look as if I were some kind of sociopath who had just wandered into her room. "What?" I questioned defensively, feeling almost prickly. "It's simple!"
She fixed her eyes on me. For a fraction of a second, I was unable to decipher her expression. "Well first... you need better clothes..." My spirits skyrocketed. We would be able to save Zuni after all! "I think..." She continued, her azure eyes illuminating with an idea. "Hold on." She rushed out of the room, vanishing down the hall. She soon emerged with a box past the brim with clothes; a surface tension of assorted garments. Plunking it onto the carpet, she directed me to select some clothes for myself.
I returned her benign gesture with a stupefied gape. "There's no wa--I can't take thi--"
"You can take a shower and change into anything in that box... except some things..." She interrupted my gracious stammering, giggling with the tinkling of a bell.
What's that
supposed to mean? I wondered, feeling as if I were swallowing a golf ball.
It must
be an inside joke or something... And what was with all this shower blather? I didn't reek that
terribly, did I?I turned towards the girl, checking for a reaction. Instead, I caught her just as she was arranging her hair into a ponytail. My heart wavered. Oh
why did she look so sexy preforming such a casual action?!
Riveting my attention back to clothes and cleanliness, I shook my head, making a failed effort to clear the tantalizing image of her hair cascading down her back.
Come on, Allen! You need to focus now! I prepped myself. I couldn't let this girl distract me again. It was because I was incompetent to stop myself from following that girl into her school that my sister wound up getting kidnapped (and most likely exterminated). Still, she was so very lovely...
Focus! I commanded. At this, I began to scan my present attire. I wore an ex-white t-shirt (meaning it
used to be white and now had morphed into a sickening mixture of soot gray and yellow) and frayed and tattered jeans. My entire outfit consisted of holes and rips that were increasing in size with each passing day. My shoes were so ancient and worn that they were practically falling apart off my very feet. To add onto this, my shoes (if you could still call them that) were also caked with dirt and mud. There was such an abundance of this that I knew I must have tracked some of the mess into the house. I felt awful about this, and silently vowed to aid in returning the marvelous house I had ruined back to its immaculate state after I had rescued Zuni. As an alchemist, I could alter my clothes, which was a relief, since much damage is obtained on our travels. Yet, my wondrous power couldn't always repair my clothes, especially after wearing the same unraveling ones for so long.
"Thank you..." I breathed as I delved into the box. What I emerged with was a striped cotton shirt and a pair of spanking new (at least in my terms) long, khaki pants. Happy Christmas to me! As a guy, I'm not exactly into clothes, but when you've been on the run for the majority of your life and you can only recall ever owning a few variations of apparel, trust me; even the least caring of blokes would be thrilled. "I haven't even known you for an hour," I proceeded with my gratefulness. "But I definitely owe you one." With that, I left for the shower her family and herself had pointed me to.
The shower? Yes, that was a good idea. A
very good idea. I could feel layers of grime sliding off of me as as I scrubbed from head to toe. When I had finished, I left feeling
loads better; better than in a
long time, in fact!
Whistling some of Zuni's cherished tunes to myself, I changed into the clothes I chosen from the box, only to realize something was...
off about them. Gazing into the mirror, I raised my arms, only to see the sleeves double over and consume my arms. My pants gravitated towards the ground in what some might call a "gangster style". I would call it "it doesn't fit, so, see ya!"
The lady had told me that the box she brought were a mixture of her father's and brother's clothes. Her father wasn't a freaking giant, though. Which meant...
"Your brother must be on steroids!" I exclaimed as I trudged back into the girl's room, Skye's garments threatening to slip off all together without a moment's notice. I compared the blue-eyed miss's petite frame to the massive, hulking bodybuilder her brother surely was. Yep,
definitely adopted!
Before I could dig up some... uh,
more fitting clothes (literally), I was struck by how amazing the girl before me looked. She appeared to be ready for a mission, managing to be a total babe at the same time. Adding a few knives to her disposal, she egressed her bedroom, carrying an air of expectancy.
((This song/video that kind of matches Allen at the moment (since he's an orphaned boy who has a British accent, kind of like the person in the song and the character in the video!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pnSVMRVd ... plpp_video ))
˚•Zuni•˚
After who knows
how long, I regained consciousness. The first image that I registered was this guy just sitting there outside of my cell...
staring at me.
Can anyone say "stalker?" I thought, eyeing the visitor cautiously. Even in the shadowy gloom of the prison keep, his blond hair possessed a quality of luminescence. I couldn't decide if this person's eyes were blue, green, or gray.
"Hey dude!" I called, waving my hands in front of his face as a way to wake him up from his trance or whatever. "Would you mind getting me out of here?!" I know, I know; I was rude. So bite me! Kindness is a waste of time!
"I would set you free if it didn't cost my head," the young man told me gently and evenly. His subdued voice was such a contrast with my rowdy one that I was actually stunned into silence. Anyone who can achieve
that feat should receive an award for accomplishing the impossible!
The guy was trying his hand at squeezing a blanket through the bars I was behind and wrapping it around me nearly simultaneously, but he failed miserably. It probably didn't help that I had recovered my bearings and was pushing the precious covering back toward him. Don't get me wrong--I was a
Zunicle right about then, but there was no way I was going to accept anything from the likes of
him. "No!" I growled, although the overly-fluffy texture of the offering was tantalizing. "You're one of
them, aren't you?" Of course I meant a Darksider. He even carried that unbearable fetor with him, the same stench that polluted the location they murdered my little sister. Even after they had removed her severed body and left with it to do who knows what, that redolence lingered there, remaining, perhaps forever.
"I wish I could promise you that everything would be okay," the man of ever-changing eyes made an effort to console me. "But I'd rather not make a promise to you that I couldn't keep."
"Of course, since you're a coward," I retorted. "Just like the rest of the Darksiders."
Duh,
nothing's going to be okay! These
monsters had slaughtered my sister Hopi, who was nothing but an innocent five-year-old. She didn't even have the ability to preform alchemy, while Allen and I did, and they
killed her, reduced her to mere fragments. Allen might as well have been
eons from me, captured, or dispatched as well. Why did I have to let down not only one, but
two of my younger siblings!? I was supposed to protect them! I clenched the bars of my cage once again, causing my hands to yowl in pain. I didn't care.
The blondie however (much to my irritation),
did seem to care. One after the other, he carefully took my hands and set the fractured bones back to where they belonged, so they wouldn't heal incorrectly. I didn't even wince as he snapped them back into place, even though the pain was so searing that it felt like someone was having a barbecue on my knuckles. I had acquired many injuries over the course of my journey, but that didn't mean the pain ever disappeared. Most of the time, either Allen or I popped the bones back into place. This time though, my enemy was taking over the job.
After an agonizing second, the pain subsided. My knuckles were no longer sticking out at odd angles. I couldn't refrain from releasing a sigh of relief as the Darksider bandaged my hands.
"I'll do what I can to prevent you from being damaged any further though," he told me. "All I ask is for you to trust me."
"
Trust you!?" I snorted obnoxiously, "Not even in your
dreams will I ever trust you!"