01-17-2016, 07:57 PM
Rainbows molded itself around the slits of his gloved fingertips, weaving an unusual pattern of color to form a shape. A square, to be exact. Just a normal square. About as long as a letter and around as large. But slowly, intricate details painted on the glowing, physics defying object. First a brown, wooden frame, than a face. Then two.
Finally, after around three minutes, the summoning was complete. The green man looked down from the sky towards his hand, having to blink at least once or twice. It was a practically flawless recreation of a photo. It was black and white, but that did nothing to hide the three people frozen within. Two were tall, and both had their hands on a child standing in front of them. One was just behind the kid, and seemed to be effeminate in nature. Her left hand was tenderly rubbing the top of the child's head, while the other, more masculine looking figure, had his right arm around her. All of their faces were covered in scarves, and they all wore leather coats and gloves to match. Only the child was wearing a hat. The hat itself seemed to be a beanie that was far too big for his tiny, circular skull, which overlapped his eyes and nose. Although the scarves themselves prevented such a detail from being confirmed, Ballad could swear they were all smiling just from the way they stood and their eagerness to look at the camera.
And their eyes. They were all normal. They looked.. peaceful, uncaring, maybe even unconcerned. About the weather. About other people. About the world. Nothing afflicted them.
Just as it should be...
The green gunner's left index finger slipped up and over the photo, sliding it down to the face of the little one and covering it up. His digits started to tighten together, crunching the paper up. The paper bent in two separate directions as Ballad closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath. He brought his front teeth to his bottom lip, biting into it. He started shaking his head, refusing to look at the picture. A thought encroached within the inner workings of his brain. An insect gnawing at him, an irresistible urge filling the back of his mind. His hand started to shake, his fingers clamping shut before becoming loose, alternating back and forth. Finally, after what seemed like hours, he brought his hands to opposite sides of the photograph, pulling on both ends of it. A stream of incomprehensible growls started shooting out of his mouth as the edges of the image began to tear at the seams.
“Ballad?” A female voice squeaked from a few feet behind him.
His grip eased as his eyes opened wide, looking past his shoulder. It was Immy. Her face still had tears streaming down it. It could've been the rain, however, as the wind around Ballad had shifted, causing the branches above to move and give the flowers beneath him their life liquid. Her right hand was grasping the side of one of these trees, almost leaning on it as she looked at him. She looked confused, judging from the blank stare she was giving him.
“Yeah....?” He replied, looking away from the girl. He closed his eyes again, not even bothering to look back.
------------------
Immy's pale-white hand were somewhat caked in the dust of bark from how hard she was clawing into the tree. The soldier's hands were together, and he had been staring up into space. For a while, she had been simply observing in a passive state, not wanting to interrupt whatever it was he was doing. But as soon as he summoned the parchment and witnessed what was on it, her curiosity got the better of her.
She had asked, but she could tell something was wrong. He hadn't acted like this at all since they met. A vast array of questions zoomed into her mind, stopping for a split second before zipping past for the next.
Is he alright? Does he do this often? Why IS he doing it? Why now? Was it something I said? Should I feel-
She looked down towards the ground, staring towards the snow-white plants in the ground. She switched between looking at the flowers, to looking at the gunsmith. Back again, back again, back again. Eventually, she took a deep breath and stepped forward, planting her foot onto a single flower in a not-so-delicate manner. She paused, realizing what she just did, before sneaking forward some more, this time doing her best not to harm the field any further.
----------------
He heard her pretty easily. He knew she was coming. He kept his eyes closed, hoping against hope she'd just go back and keep staring at him. His chest felt tight as his teeth ground against each other behind his crimson scarf, pulling the photograph to his chest.
He felt a tap on his shoulder. He opened his eyes, the ovals glowing, before whirling around. His right hand was raised, clenched into a fist, prepared to swing. He was frowning, and his left hand, which held the photo, was close to his chest as if he was comforting a baby.
He did not expect the hug.
For someone as relatively skinny as the girl was, she amassed a loud “oof” from the green man as she crashed into him, her arms wrapping around his torso. Her left slid upwards until the tips of her fingers barely touched the start of his neck, while the right remained stationary around his chest. Her head rested itself against his bosom, looking towards the object buried there before staring up towards Ballad's face, now seeming to be completely shocked.
She lifted her head up from his chest, keeping her eyes on Ballad. Tears started to reappear on her cheeks as she said “C-Can you.. at least tell me?”
At first, all that Ballad could really try to say was unintelligible muttering, all while his eyes were as wide as dinner plates as he stared at the mountain-climber like she had just proposed to him. It took a few moments for him to even comprehend what was being asked of him, which he quickly found an answer for.
“It ain't... nobody, kid. It ain't nobody....”
“Y-You can tell me... you don't need to be a meanie... there's no harm in telling me..” She whispered back, placing her cheek near his right shoulder, her eyes occasionally glancing up to meet his own.
“I-..I-I don't...” Ballad began to say, only to sigh, shaking his head in disbelief. “Parents... just... parents..”
“They're dead, aren't they?”
“...Yeah...”
Immy closed her eyes, saying “It's okay... I know what it's like... and I know it's... not easy. But it's okay... it's always been okay.... it'll always be okay...”
The green man peered into the distance, not even capable of finding words to speak. He glanced down towards the woman burying herself into him, his fist loosening in an increasingly sluggish manner. His fist morphed into a straight palm, his grip on the photo weakening.
“Listen, kid, I'm alright. This ain't stuff that I try to think about, anyway, so it's not something to worry your little head about.” He said, seeing it had no effect on her. He then tried something more typical.
“Kid, seriously, I'm in no mood for this. Don't make me make me backhand you so hard your teeth fly out.” He growls, putting as much heft as he could into the threat. Immy flinched, but was resolute in what she was doing.
“Kid, really, stop... it ain't needed.. none of this is needed.. I'm fine.... i'm fine... i-i'm...”
A loud sniffle shot out from underneath his leather bandanna, followed by his throat locking up. He continued trying to talk, to ease the pain in his chest. All it did was make it hurt more, which certainly wasn't being helped by the girl squeezing him as hard as she was. He slowly slid his left hand from his chest, lifting it over the girl's body, slowly letting go of the photo, letting it flutter to the ground. Letting go entirely.
He closed his eyes, raindrops sliding down his bumpy skin as he placed his left hand on top of Immy's head, slithering his right hand around her back to bring her closer. Nothing else seemed to make more sense than to cry, with his face hanging out behind Immy's head, drops falling down onto the flowers. Some of them seemed to bend down, as if wilting, as the duo stood, locked in an embrace, caring not for anything else.
Finally, after around three minutes, the summoning was complete. The green man looked down from the sky towards his hand, having to blink at least once or twice. It was a practically flawless recreation of a photo. It was black and white, but that did nothing to hide the three people frozen within. Two were tall, and both had their hands on a child standing in front of them. One was just behind the kid, and seemed to be effeminate in nature. Her left hand was tenderly rubbing the top of the child's head, while the other, more masculine looking figure, had his right arm around her. All of their faces were covered in scarves, and they all wore leather coats and gloves to match. Only the child was wearing a hat. The hat itself seemed to be a beanie that was far too big for his tiny, circular skull, which overlapped his eyes and nose. Although the scarves themselves prevented such a detail from being confirmed, Ballad could swear they were all smiling just from the way they stood and their eagerness to look at the camera.
And their eyes. They were all normal. They looked.. peaceful, uncaring, maybe even unconcerned. About the weather. About other people. About the world. Nothing afflicted them.
Just as it should be...
The green gunner's left index finger slipped up and over the photo, sliding it down to the face of the little one and covering it up. His digits started to tighten together, crunching the paper up. The paper bent in two separate directions as Ballad closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath. He brought his front teeth to his bottom lip, biting into it. He started shaking his head, refusing to look at the picture. A thought encroached within the inner workings of his brain. An insect gnawing at him, an irresistible urge filling the back of his mind. His hand started to shake, his fingers clamping shut before becoming loose, alternating back and forth. Finally, after what seemed like hours, he brought his hands to opposite sides of the photograph, pulling on both ends of it. A stream of incomprehensible growls started shooting out of his mouth as the edges of the image began to tear at the seams.
“Ballad?” A female voice squeaked from a few feet behind him.
His grip eased as his eyes opened wide, looking past his shoulder. It was Immy. Her face still had tears streaming down it. It could've been the rain, however, as the wind around Ballad had shifted, causing the branches above to move and give the flowers beneath him their life liquid. Her right hand was grasping the side of one of these trees, almost leaning on it as she looked at him. She looked confused, judging from the blank stare she was giving him.
“Yeah....?” He replied, looking away from the girl. He closed his eyes again, not even bothering to look back.
------------------
Immy's pale-white hand were somewhat caked in the dust of bark from how hard she was clawing into the tree. The soldier's hands were together, and he had been staring up into space. For a while, she had been simply observing in a passive state, not wanting to interrupt whatever it was he was doing. But as soon as he summoned the parchment and witnessed what was on it, her curiosity got the better of her.
She had asked, but she could tell something was wrong. He hadn't acted like this at all since they met. A vast array of questions zoomed into her mind, stopping for a split second before zipping past for the next.
Is he alright? Does he do this often? Why IS he doing it? Why now? Was it something I said? Should I feel-
She looked down towards the ground, staring towards the snow-white plants in the ground. She switched between looking at the flowers, to looking at the gunsmith. Back again, back again, back again. Eventually, she took a deep breath and stepped forward, planting her foot onto a single flower in a not-so-delicate manner. She paused, realizing what she just did, before sneaking forward some more, this time doing her best not to harm the field any further.
----------------
He heard her pretty easily. He knew she was coming. He kept his eyes closed, hoping against hope she'd just go back and keep staring at him. His chest felt tight as his teeth ground against each other behind his crimson scarf, pulling the photograph to his chest.
He felt a tap on his shoulder. He opened his eyes, the ovals glowing, before whirling around. His right hand was raised, clenched into a fist, prepared to swing. He was frowning, and his left hand, which held the photo, was close to his chest as if he was comforting a baby.
He did not expect the hug.
For someone as relatively skinny as the girl was, she amassed a loud “oof” from the green man as she crashed into him, her arms wrapping around his torso. Her left slid upwards until the tips of her fingers barely touched the start of his neck, while the right remained stationary around his chest. Her head rested itself against his bosom, looking towards the object buried there before staring up towards Ballad's face, now seeming to be completely shocked.
She lifted her head up from his chest, keeping her eyes on Ballad. Tears started to reappear on her cheeks as she said “C-Can you.. at least tell me?”
At first, all that Ballad could really try to say was unintelligible muttering, all while his eyes were as wide as dinner plates as he stared at the mountain-climber like she had just proposed to him. It took a few moments for him to even comprehend what was being asked of him, which he quickly found an answer for.
“It ain't... nobody, kid. It ain't nobody....”
“Y-You can tell me... you don't need to be a meanie... there's no harm in telling me..” She whispered back, placing her cheek near his right shoulder, her eyes occasionally glancing up to meet his own.
“I-..I-I don't...” Ballad began to say, only to sigh, shaking his head in disbelief. “Parents... just... parents..”
“They're dead, aren't they?”
“...Yeah...”
Immy closed her eyes, saying “It's okay... I know what it's like... and I know it's... not easy. But it's okay... it's always been okay.... it'll always be okay...”
The green man peered into the distance, not even capable of finding words to speak. He glanced down towards the woman burying herself into him, his fist loosening in an increasingly sluggish manner. His fist morphed into a straight palm, his grip on the photo weakening.
“Listen, kid, I'm alright. This ain't stuff that I try to think about, anyway, so it's not something to worry your little head about.” He said, seeing it had no effect on her. He then tried something more typical.
“Kid, seriously, I'm in no mood for this. Don't make me make me backhand you so hard your teeth fly out.” He growls, putting as much heft as he could into the threat. Immy flinched, but was resolute in what she was doing.
“Kid, really, stop... it ain't needed.. none of this is needed.. I'm fine.... i'm fine... i-i'm...”
A loud sniffle shot out from underneath his leather bandanna, followed by his throat locking up. He continued trying to talk, to ease the pain in his chest. All it did was make it hurt more, which certainly wasn't being helped by the girl squeezing him as hard as she was. He slowly slid his left hand from his chest, lifting it over the girl's body, slowly letting go of the photo, letting it flutter to the ground. Letting go entirely.
He closed his eyes, raindrops sliding down his bumpy skin as he placed his left hand on top of Immy's head, slithering his right hand around her back to bring her closer. Nothing else seemed to make more sense than to cry, with his face hanging out behind Immy's head, drops falling down onto the flowers. Some of them seemed to bend down, as if wilting, as the duo stood, locked in an embrace, caring not for anything else.
C&C Thread
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New to OV? Need a question answered? Want a C&C of your work? Send a PM to me!
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