07-04-2015, 01:18 AM
She remembered this smell.
What was it?
Flowers? …
… maybe …
Lilies?
When Belle awoke, she only did so reluctantly. Crawling her way out of the coddling embrace of unconsciousness, she became uncomfortably away of her body. Her limbs ached, her head ached. It hurt just to turn her neck. Her eyes, when they opened, were slow to adjust.
She was laying on the floor of a large, rectangular room, tucked under the covers of a thick futon. The hardwood flooring was polished, the faded color of mahogany, and was sparsely occupied along the edges by cabinets, empty racks, and what Belle assumed was a shrine. This last feature was the source of the smell – a fresh bouquet of flowers were placed in a tall-necked glass before it. The incense sticks on either side stood unlit.
Double sliding doors stood open on her left, letting the fading red light of a waning Tier Four afternoon spill inside. How long had she been out of it? It was actually harder to tell than one might expect. Along with everything else in this part of Coruscant, the hours of daylight bowed to the rule of credits, and no one else had more power than the kinds of people who preferred the concealment of night. Some days, the sun would rise and fall in the space of an afternoon nap.
Still, she figured it had to be at least a few hours. With a groan, Belle pushed herself up into a sitting position. Someone had changed her clothes, as well; her scuffed uniform lay neatly folded beside the bedding, and she was dressed in a simple button-down sleeping shirt and pants.
Belle was starting to wonder if she should call out for someone, pondering if it wasn't a better idea to get dressed and sneak out, when she heard a scampering scuffle of tiny feet coming from just outside the open doors. A moment later a brown streak shot into view. Barely bigger than a loaf of bread, the dog from before skidded on flailing paws as it overshot its intended path, paddled in place, then leaped into the room. It circled her several times, yapping loudly, before coming to an abrupt stop and sitting.
“You're awake.”
She looked up. Silhouetted against the setting sun, the old woman stood in the door, casting a long shadow into the room. As she had during the fight, she stood straight, her arms folded behind her back. Her clothes were strange – strange for Coruscant, anyway – and seemed to resemble a martial arts uniform, only cut in a way that resembled a set of oriental armor. Her eyes were bright and hard, silver shards of flint that seemed to cut into her, demanding she say something.
“Oh? Uh-...” Belle started to say, then coughed. A searing pain shot through her chest, stabbing like a dagger under her ribs. She held her side, wincing and stifling a hiss through gritted teeth. “Sorry,” she managed.
The woman held her eyes for a moment, then grunted. “No apology necessary. It's expected, I suppose, after what your body went through.”
Belle probed the shirt with her fingers. She was sore as the devil's asshole, but...
“Nothing broken,” the woman confirmed. “Anymore,” she added with a barely audible mutter.
“Thank you,” Belle said at last.
The dog barked. The woman shook her head. “I wasn't about to let some fool die on my doorstep. I have enough to deal with without the local 'authorities' poking their noses in.”
“Then the others...?” Belle trailed off.
The woman laughed. There was little humor in it. “Oh, them? A little worse for wear, but don't worry: they're still very much among the living. They won't be seeing the outside of a bacta tank for a while, though.”
Belle tried to think back and remember the moment she had lost consciousness. “How did you save me?” she asked, frowning. She had been pretty sure at that moment that she was about to meet her maker – or Omni, more likely.
“I didn't,” the woman said. She chuckled at the expression on her face. “It doesn't really matter. You're alive. Enjoy it.” She rolled her neck and shoulders. “You may rest here for a few more hours, but after that, I'd prefer it if you left.” Her eyes flicked down. “Keep her company, Mister Pickles. Make sure she doesn't do anything suspicious.”
With that, the woman turned and left. Belle had so many questions, she wasn't sure where to begin. First on her mind, though...
“Mister Pickles?” she asked the dog sitting by her side.
Pickles barked an affirmative.
“Nice to meet you.”
What was it?
Flowers? …
… maybe …
Lilies?
When Belle awoke, she only did so reluctantly. Crawling her way out of the coddling embrace of unconsciousness, she became uncomfortably away of her body. Her limbs ached, her head ached. It hurt just to turn her neck. Her eyes, when they opened, were slow to adjust.
She was laying on the floor of a large, rectangular room, tucked under the covers of a thick futon. The hardwood flooring was polished, the faded color of mahogany, and was sparsely occupied along the edges by cabinets, empty racks, and what Belle assumed was a shrine. This last feature was the source of the smell – a fresh bouquet of flowers were placed in a tall-necked glass before it. The incense sticks on either side stood unlit.
Double sliding doors stood open on her left, letting the fading red light of a waning Tier Four afternoon spill inside. How long had she been out of it? It was actually harder to tell than one might expect. Along with everything else in this part of Coruscant, the hours of daylight bowed to the rule of credits, and no one else had more power than the kinds of people who preferred the concealment of night. Some days, the sun would rise and fall in the space of an afternoon nap.
Still, she figured it had to be at least a few hours. With a groan, Belle pushed herself up into a sitting position. Someone had changed her clothes, as well; her scuffed uniform lay neatly folded beside the bedding, and she was dressed in a simple button-down sleeping shirt and pants.
Belle was starting to wonder if she should call out for someone, pondering if it wasn't a better idea to get dressed and sneak out, when she heard a scampering scuffle of tiny feet coming from just outside the open doors. A moment later a brown streak shot into view. Barely bigger than a loaf of bread, the dog from before skidded on flailing paws as it overshot its intended path, paddled in place, then leaped into the room. It circled her several times, yapping loudly, before coming to an abrupt stop and sitting.
“You're awake.”
She looked up. Silhouetted against the setting sun, the old woman stood in the door, casting a long shadow into the room. As she had during the fight, she stood straight, her arms folded behind her back. Her clothes were strange – strange for Coruscant, anyway – and seemed to resemble a martial arts uniform, only cut in a way that resembled a set of oriental armor. Her eyes were bright and hard, silver shards of flint that seemed to cut into her, demanding she say something.
“Oh? Uh-...” Belle started to say, then coughed. A searing pain shot through her chest, stabbing like a dagger under her ribs. She held her side, wincing and stifling a hiss through gritted teeth. “Sorry,” she managed.
The woman held her eyes for a moment, then grunted. “No apology necessary. It's expected, I suppose, after what your body went through.”
Belle probed the shirt with her fingers. She was sore as the devil's asshole, but...
“Nothing broken,” the woman confirmed. “Anymore,” she added with a barely audible mutter.
“Thank you,” Belle said at last.
The dog barked. The woman shook her head. “I wasn't about to let some fool die on my doorstep. I have enough to deal with without the local 'authorities' poking their noses in.”
“Then the others...?” Belle trailed off.
The woman laughed. There was little humor in it. “Oh, them? A little worse for wear, but don't worry: they're still very much among the living. They won't be seeing the outside of a bacta tank for a while, though.”
Belle tried to think back and remember the moment she had lost consciousness. “How did you save me?” she asked, frowning. She had been pretty sure at that moment that she was about to meet her maker – or Omni, more likely.
“I didn't,” the woman said. She chuckled at the expression on her face. “It doesn't really matter. You're alive. Enjoy it.” She rolled her neck and shoulders. “You may rest here for a few more hours, but after that, I'd prefer it if you left.” Her eyes flicked down. “Keep her company, Mister Pickles. Make sure she doesn't do anything suspicious.”
With that, the woman turned and left. Belle had so many questions, she wasn't sure where to begin. First on her mind, though...
“Mister Pickles?” she asked the dog sitting by her side.
Pickles barked an affirmative.
“Nice to meet you.”
Uh oh. Those boys got me all tingly...
![[Image: ezgif-1-a370e630e1.gif]](https://s7.postimg.cc/elmiaogd7/ezgif-1-a370e630e1.gif)
I must calm it.
I must calm it.