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 Posted: Mon Nov 22, 2010 8:27 am
"Noah."
"Mr. Fisher to you," Noah Fisher told Enki gruffly, shifting the groceries in his arms as the pair of them walked back to the homeless shelter that the older man ran for a living. "What is it, kid?"
"Are you my father now?" Enki was doing his best to catch up, but the bags were heavy, and he wasn't as strong as Noah was. Noah had to stop and wait for him every few moments, which made conversation hard, but Enki was never one to pass up a challenge. Noah, all sternness and standoffishness, was definitely a challenge, but still Enki tried to keep up with him, in more ways than one.
Noah snorted. "I don't remember adopting a little blue skinned boy."
"I didn't mean officially," Enki replied. "You know what I meant."
"I can't tell you who to think of as a father, kid." Noah shifted again, and this time lifted Enki's bags into his arms as well as they approached the shelter. "You coming in now?"
Enki shook his head. "I'd like to stay outside for a while and look around. It's almost winter, you know."
"Suit yourself," Noah shrugged, opening the door. Pausing, he added, "Be sure to come back in time to get some sleeping space."
Enki smiled. "Of course."
There was a moment of silence after the door closed behind Noah, and then Enki let out a sigh, piercing the world's quiet reverie and letting it know he was there all at once. As far as orphans living in shelters went, Enki was fairly cheerful about his lot. As far as he was concerned, Noah was his father, and though there were other things to worry about, as long as he had Noah, he had food and shelter, that was a start. And Noah had asked him whether he was getting educated, to which he had replied that he wasn't, soon that would be fixed too, he suspected. He was lucky. When Raina had left, he had found a new home, and that wasn't something that every orphan in Cyrus City could claim. His life was fixing itself with hardly any need to intervene, which was how Enki liked it. As romantic and idealistic as he was, the boy was too passive to be the catalyst for positive change in his life; When bad things happened to him, he just let them wash right over him and accepted it.
Humming to himself, he walked down the street, letting the drizzling trickle of rain that was beginning to fall from the sky splatter on his hair and shoulders as he went. The morning had been long, and he had some time to kill before he had to be back at the shelter to get a bed. He intended to use the time to relax, so he headed towards the park.
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Posted: Mon Apr 11, 2011 1:19 pm
It had been yet another boring day in Ailin's recently hum drum lifestyle and so he had gone out for a run in the park. Though he had told Niamh he would be running, he joked about it to himself as he walked there that he was actually trotting about because the clip clop of his hooves reminded him more of a horse trotting than of a boy running. As the rain began to drip from the sky he found himself thankful he had thought to grab a hoodie and deftly tugged it up and over his purple mohawk and he jogged through the park. His goal was to reach the large tree near the central area of the park and he picked up his pace to reach it and get out of the rain.
Upon getting there he laughed out loud and tagged the bark before staring up at the sky and shaking his fist, "Take that, rain!" It wasn't so much Ailin disliked the rain as he didn't feel like getting completely drenched by it if he could help it. The branches afforded him some cover and he tugged his hood back down before thrusting his hands into his pockets and leaning back against the tree, settling on people watching as his run had been interrupted. His eyes wandered around the park as he pondered about his predicament. He had told Eremon he'd be home later and would not need a ride, and he didn't have a cell phone to call for one. So he was stuck until the rain subsided or he got too tired of the weather and ran home - something he wasn't entirely certain he really wanted to do.
With a sigh, Ailin shrugged against the tree and tapped his head back against it, staring up into the branches and the sky beyond. Why did it have to rain on a day he was already not in a fantastic mood?
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