| Title: The aftermath (With Sukaku). Time: Tuesday, March 23, 2004 The Thespians: Sukaku Karasuno and Pascal Curio Location: Scattergood Grounds - River Notes: Bahahaha, I love Sukaku XD. |
| +---[ Scattergood Grounds - River ]------------------------------------------+ | | | The rippling waters of a fast paced river cut across the landscape, | | rushing over occasionally visible rocks 'neath its surface. The width | | varies as much as the depth does; at times it stretches wide and shallow, | | then slim and deep, then other combinations, but always seeming to go | | roughly the same speed: fairly quickly. The water's banks differ as well, | | from sandy and low to pebbly, to grassy and high with a foot drop to the | | river's surface. The slim path narrows more, the trampled dirt hardly | | visible under a collage of weeds and grasses, while on the opposite side | | trees from the forest grow, some stretching directly up against the | | water's path. | | | +----------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |
| A small huddled mass sits upon one of the many grassy banks, facing out towards the cold rushing waters of the river. The sun hardly shines today, not that it makes a difference; it'll still be cold whether or not the sun is out. Pascal Curio has a rather large frown upon her pale face as her green eyes stare out blankly at the river. Dark circles are extremely noticeable against her pale skin, and they make her eyes look extremely shrunken in. In her current position, her chin is resting on her knees and her lips are moving slowly as she mumbles incoherently. |
| Incoherent babbling isn't necessarily good . . . someone might be listening. A large, glossy raven seems to be doing just that on a branch over Pascal's head, cocking an eye to get a better look at her. Evidently deciding that the girl is far too serious and pensive for her own good, the bird poots -- for lack of a better word -- down towards Pascal's head. Hey, it was a target waiting to happen. Bird doo at twelve o'clock! (Sukaku) |
| Oh, that's not going to make Pascal any happier. The raven definitely has good aim, and the doo lands squarely atop her head. Still, it takes the girl a moment to register, and as she does, her hand instinctively reaches on her head, and a disgusted look appears on her face, followed by the expulsion of a nice little four lettered word for doo, from her mouth. Well, at least Pascal looks slightly more awake as she looks up at the raven, eyes narrowed. "I'm just going to have bleeding ravens follow me around for the rest of my damn life, aren't I?" She says sarcastically at the bird. |
| Ooh, she knows the word for doo . . . good job, Pascal. And yes, this particular raven seems to be getting you back for previously missed fun, for it explodes into a shrieking caw of laughter. Flapping down, it lands neatly beside her on the riverbank, the black feathers suddenly giving way to the figure of a boy -- rather small, actually, likely about the age of Pascal's "little friends" -- whose golden-orange eyes smirk at her in laughter, though his features remain decently somber, looking like they haven't quite gotten the hang of smiling yet. "Konnichiwa, white-handed girl." (Sukaku) |
| This sudden urge to flick an obscene gesture at the bird as it cackles is very, very carefully suppressed from Pascal's side. After all, flipping the bird, at a bird... probably not going to do much. However, as the bird lands beside the girl her eyes widen to the size of miniature saucers, especially as the bird grows and transforms into a boy. "Holy... geesus... shit!" She just about falls over in her curled up position, and manages to stick an arm out to support herself from doing so onto the grassy bank. Lien's conversation with Pascal suddenly resurfaces in her mind. "You're..." what was that name Lien said... "Sukaku!" |
| Sukaku Karasuno does love a dramatic entrance. This was an especially good one, courtesy of Pascal. He'd have to remember that . . . maybe she could be hired for parties and such. Instead, he blinks . . . news of him is spreading already? "Hai, I'm Sukaku. And you are Pascal-san. Who likes to sulk by running water." Good thing she didn't fall off down the bank; his aunt would probably make him apologize for that too. "You mean I didn't surprise you?" |
| If Pascal was surprised, which she most definitely /was/ given the expression upon her face as Sukaku made his entrance, she's going to be the last person to admit it. She slowly regains her composure, resuming her huddled ball position at the edge of the bank, though her green eyes stare at Sukaku rather suspiciously. As far as she knew, the boy, the tengu, the thing was intent on erasing her memory, or something about being turned into a mushroom. So much for paying attention to what Lien had told her. Her voice is slightly muffled and clearly sulking as she says, "I don't /sulk/." A pause. "So you're going to turn me into a mushroom?" |
| "You're sulking now," Sukaku points out helpfully, "unless I have the language very wrong and I don't think I do. I studied hard, after all." Plopping down beside her, he eyes the mess on top of her head with another smirk, tucking his legs beneath him. "Do you want me to turn you into a mushroom? I could, but it's not really comfortable. About as comfortable as for a human to become a bird." At this he eyes her sideways, a bit pointedly. |
| He just /had/ to bring that up. If possible, Pascal seems to shrink into an even smaller ball, and her face disappears behind her hair as she rests her forehead on her knees. "/Thank you/, Sukaku, for bringing that up," she says tersely, her voice even more muffled. She apparently had forgotten that she had bird poo on her head, and for a sick and twisted minute, she actually considered asking the boy how to turn people into mushrooms. "I prefer being a human, thank you. Just human will be fine." She's still got her head ducked down, but she continues to talk. "Lien told me that you went to talk to her and Toby. We can't tell anyone we saw you." She trails off, intent on letting Sukaku finish the rest of that. |
| "So that's what you're sulking about . . . I thought so." Sukaku tips his head a bit sideways, watching her, orange eyes almost seeming to forget to blink in their calm intensity. "But yes . . . my aunt told me to apologize for the other day." Textbook bow and sigh. "So I apologize. Gomen nasai for the trouble that I caused." Oh, he just *so* sounds like he means it, doesn't he? "And the other business . . . no, you can't tell about me or about what happened or anything relating to what I am. You can either accept this and promise or I will have to take the memory out of you. Or if you break your promise and do tell, which is also your choice, my mother will likely become very angry and come to turn you into something nasty. Like a mushroom." |
| Pascal likes her mind and her own memories the way they are. She's got a bit of an issue with people or things, for that matter, prodding and poking around in there. She shifts slightly away from Sukaku as she lifts her head up, a skeptical look forming on her features. And now, question period. "How will your mother find out that we told?" She's already made up her mind on the matter, her face set rather blankly as she stares at Sukaku, waiting for his answer. "And why a mushroom, of all things?" The whole concept of being turned into a mushroom sounds too far-fetched to Pascal, and that thought is somewhat expressed in her tone of voice as she asks that question. |
| ". . . It was an example," Sukaku notes. "I don't know what she'd choose. And my mother . . . chooses to keep her eyes on many areas, and she has her eyes on this area especially now for . . . certain reasons. People don't believe we exist, you know. It's just legend . . . we'd like to keep it that way. Do you promise?" He watches her movements . . . if she's going to try to make a break for it, she may find herself with problems from him. |
| Pascal Curio narrows her eyes into lazy slits that clearly speak, 'What do you think?' She seems to have forgotten that he's not really a little boy, and can probably kick her butt pretty well should he choose to. "Yes. Yes, I promise," she breathes out after some thought. As much as she'd like to forget it, Pascal doesn't really want to, for some reason. She uncurls herself just slightly and even sticks her right hand out towards Sukaku, intending to shake on it. "So do you disappear now? And we'll never see you again, or what?" |
| If Sukaku catches onto the fact that she's forgotten what he is, it only serves to amuse him all the more. "I don't plan on it. You -- all of you -- interest me. Even if you're more angst than fun. You'll be seeing me, I think, for a while yet." Blinking, he reaches out for her hand . . . but instead of shaking it, he examines it, turning it over and then back as though looking for food, then peering at her palm. "Oh, that's too bad . . . really bad. It says here that you'll die tomorrow." |
| Pascal was still in the middle of trying to decide whether or not still seeing Sukaku was a good thing, but upon his last comment, she jerks her hand out of his with a disturbed look on her face. She rubs her palm and frowns at him, but two can play at his game. "Oh really?" Her face and voice lightens somewhat as she plasters a smile on her face. "What's going to happen? How am I going to die? Am I going to get turned into a /mushroom/ and get /eaten/?" And now the voice grows slightly darker and more sarcastic. |
| "Probably you'll sulk yourself into your own funeral pyre or drown in your own tears," Sukaku replies with a shrug, tone light. "For all the sulking that you're doing. But I suppose the mushroom would work too. You seem to be fixated on them . . . do you have a fetish, Pascal-san?" As may be noticed, the boy is not intimidated in the least by the girl who seems to be determined to be a school scourge. "So why *are* you sulking about this?" Humans were so strange. Fascinating, though. |
| Human are strange, which is why Pascal enjoys bothering /humans/ so much. She continues to scowl at Sukaku, because well, she can't annoy him like she can regular humans. "I'm /not/ sulking," she says again darkly, resting her chin on her knees once more as she continues to stare the boy. Apparently her stare doesn't un-nerve him, which is slowly beginning to get on her nerves. And here the narrator thought that Lien would be the death of Pascal. "I've just," she pauses to collect her thoughts, "Never heard of anyone being turned into a mushroom as a hex before, is all." |
| "There are a lot of hexes that you've never heard of, I should think." Isn't that nice, Pascal, that you have Sukaku around to point these things out? "And you're lying. The bird form is on your mind. Why?" Pesterpesterpesterpester. |
| Pascal's entire face sours and narrows even more so than usual as Sukaku brings up... dundundun... the bird form. She looks away from him and takes a deep breath, then lets it out in a woosh. "So I'm lying. Maybe I don't want to talk about it." Oh, but Pascal does, because she's still talking, her voice slowly getting more animated as she does. "Can you feel pain, Sukaku? Can you?" Her question stops there, almost as a challenge. |
| Orange eyes watch her with that visible intentness before they slip away. "Of course I feel pain. Anything that lives does. Or am I such a beast to you that you think I wouldn't?" More softly, as though he's aware of the potential damage of his statements, "I feel. We're not that much different from you." (Sukaku) |
| "I thought I was going to die, have you ever felt that?" Pascal says, the softness of Sukaku's statements seeming to calm her just slightly. She may be melodramatic right now, but she still is a teenager. "I've never felt so much pain, and it didn't stop." She frowns again, pressing her lips together and looks at Sukaku out of the corner of her eye slowly. "I suppose you're going to tell me that I deserved it." She seems a little more withdrawn after her previous statements and is trying to avoid making eye contact with Sukaku now. |
| "I can if you would like," is the easy reply. Sukaku's tone rarely seems to change, remaining light, even when discussing matters more serious. Perhaps not to fall into her angst. It isn't natural to him, and emotions of that nature feel strange. "Actually, it was silly of all of you to go wandering around in the woods off the path. But the Lost Boy's ball was sick, so you can't say that it did that to you on purpose, or that anything you did prompted it, so I'm not sure why you focus on this. Or are you upset that you hurt so much? That seems to have scared you greatly; it comes through in your stubbornness. Or . . . was it something else?" |
| Pascal seems perhaps a little grateful at Sukaku's lack of angst on this subject, and she keeps quiet for a few moments, and then just shrugs. His little lecture to her about wandering off the forest path is to be expected, but it's clear that she finds it strange coming from the body of a twelve year old boy; her face expresses that quite clearly, but as it comes, she masks it as fast as she can. On the topic of being scared however, she gets a little defensive. "I was /not/ scared." Right. She pauses again, and then says rather unconvincingly, "It just hurt. A /lot/." |
| "I've heard that transfiguration tends to hurt for humans." Sukaku picks at the grass stalks beside him, fingers combing through them gently. "It doesn't hurt for us. One form feels as natural as another . . . though three are base -- raven, tengu, and this." Yes . . . evidently he's saying that this twelve year old form is one of those base ones, so . . . he's young, Pascal. Deal with it. "You were scared. All living beings dislike pain. No one celebrates it. It infects the brain, I think, makes one feel as though one is about to lose control. Humans don't like that . . . particularly stubborn ones." He glances at her. "Did you think you were going to lose yourself to it?" |
| Sukaku has been pressing Pascal's buttons this entire time, with a jackhammer. Talk about role reversal. Her face is slowly getting some colour back into it, though with the expression on her face, the colour is due to the internal conflict that she's struggling with. She glares at Sukaku as he speaks to her, and try as she might, she can't seem to hide anything from him. "Yes." Her voice comes out as a whisper, and she frowns, but speaks louder. "Yes. It's all about control, Sukaku. And," she trails off, her lips still moving. "I didn't have it." |
| "How were you supposed to have control of a magic you're not even used to?" The corners of Sukaku's lips twitch slightly. "Do you transfigure regularly? Your group didn't even know how to control your sick ball, so how would you possibly expect to control that? Really, you're only wasting your time sulking, I think. You could do nothing then, so what is the point in blaming yourself?" His eyes flicker up toward the top of her head. "Oh . . . and I think my gift is drying." |
| Pascal Curio is stubborn, as both Sukaku and her know, and though everything he says makes sense about /not/ sulking, if she were to stop now, she would be giving in. As she stands up slowly, she's still got that sullen look on her face. Her hand again rises instinctively to that mess that Sukaku left on her head earlier, but she remembers and lets her hand drop. "You... you make too much sense," Pascal finally admits, a smile trying to poke through her dark expression. "It bothers me," she also admits, the smile winning, and then she turns away to leave, her farewell somewhat signaling her defeat. "See you around, Sukaku." |
| Woo-hoo, he makes sense. Now that's interesting. At this Sukaku actually manages to break into a full-fledged grin, exposing his teeth. (Smiling isn't as hard as they said it was; you just let yourself go. Not much thought involved at all.) "I'm glad I was able to bother you, Pascal-san. Sulking is quite boring. I'll see you again sometime, hai?" And with that he's gone again, a raven winging its way across the flow of water towards the shadows of the woods. |
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