Clear SKY, Clear THOUGHTS [Bryce] Bright STARS

[The Hatterdasher]

The camp was slowly dying, in its own way. It wasn’t actually dying, though. No one was dying any time soon, as far as he knew. But the camp itself, the life it had, was slowly dying as the night went on. Couples wandered off to cuddle next to each other. Children were carried off to bed. Mother Sophie, as far as he knew, was already asleep. Everyone started to retire to their respective tents. A clock far in the distance, probably belonging to the sleepy village, chimed twelve.

Only one gypsy was left outside in the hot August night. He strummed his guitar, playing a sad melody that soothed children and adults alike in a dreamless sleep. In his mind, music showed no bias toward anyone in particular. The man playing was not tired, however; he wrapped up in his own thoughts instead. He wore a pair of light buckskin pants, patched and worn with age. His shirt was loose cotton, comfortable for his needs. He stopped playing after a while, standing and putting his guitar in its case. His pet raven woke up and fluttered his wings. He leaned over and extended an arm. The raven shuffled before hopping on, walking a crooked walk all the way to his shoulder before leaning in to nip at the male’s dirt brown hair.

Zephyr ignored Rapscallion’s irritable habit. It was his plea for attention. The raven nestled down on his shoulder and let out a satisfied, quiet caw. Zephyr stroked the bird before looking up at the sky. He noted the stars. It was a clear night, not a cloud in the sky. He pointed out a particularly shiny heavenly entity in the night. “Mars is bright tonight.” The raven made no reply. Zephyr looked around before picking up his guitar case and slinging it over his shoulder. His bare feet sought out his moccasins, which he slipped on before wandering out of camp. He figured he’d visit an old friend for the night. He had slept most of the day, which meant he wasn’t tired, even though he hated it when he wasn’t. He would’ve slept in his hammock that night.

Navigating through the woods, Zephyr rotated his shoulder, making Rapscallion get up. The bird was getting antsy, clawing his feet into his shoulder, which hurt quite a bit. “Go greet him then. I’ll catch up in a bit.” The raven flew off ahead of him to a cave, where his friend Bryce was probably sitting. He knew the boy long enough to guess where he was at, though he didn’t mind if his guess was accurate or not. He didn’t care much for anything.

Yawning, Zephyr reached the cave within a few minutes, giving a wave as he approached. “Mars is bright tonight. Did you see it?” this was his normal ‘hello’ when it came to Bryce, he wasn’t one to ask about how he was doing, not at first. It was his way of doing things. Mother Sophie’s madness was rubbing off on him. “Dried cranberries?” He asked, then procuring a leather bag of them from his pocket. They were delicious, to say the least, and he adored them. He tossed one to Rapscallion, who snapped it up greedily, the little bugger. He hopped over to Zephyr as he approached. He sat his Guitar case on the ground in front of the cave, but didn’t sit down yet, no. It wasn’t because of nervousness that he didn’t sit down, but out of thought. He was never nervous around Bryce. He was busy looking at the sky. “Venus is a little dim, but Mars is fairly bright. I think that means something, but I dunno.”

[OOC: This post feels really crappy to me for some reason. Dunno why.]
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[Poe]

Did You... Sail Across The Sun...?

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The night was clear and hot. The air was heavy, humid, stifling. And the water from the cave only provided a constant clamminess to the area around him. But still, he knew that being outside was better than being inside his caravan where he would be bombarded with memories of Lillian. Not only that, but the inside of the wooden box would have been cooking all day like an oven, and it would be hotter in there than it was out there. Ah, how he lusted after the cool breezes of fall and spring. Bryce pushed a hand through his hair, wiping sweat across his scalp, making his dark hair stand up on end.

Even without the help of his friend, Zephyr, Bryce knew some of his planets. Knew that Mars was strangely bright tonight, but he did not take quite as sharp of notice of it as his older friend did. He did stare at the stars though, studying their patterns, watching them twinkle and watch over him, a certain sadness settling over him on this humid night. A sadness that he wasn't quite used to. But today would have been his mother's birthday... If she was still alive. "Happy birthday, Mother," he whispered, voice carried away with a sudden breeze, that he liked to believe was carrying his voice up to the heavens for her, where he was sure she was nestled in the clouds with his father, wearing a beautiful gown of white, her eyes glowing as she picked flowers and sprinkled their petals down on the earth for more flowers to grow.

Tears pricked at his eyes and he didn't even realize it. Slowly they melted down his cheek as he burrowed his face into a blanket that he wished still smelt like her, but her scent had vanished from the soft fabric long ago. A shudder ran down the length of his body and he stroked the fabric, pushing a hand through his hair again, running it back over the locks to let it lie flat on his head. Sweat beaded on his forehead and back, dripping down his white shirt, his light brown slacks sticking to the sides of his legs. With a quiet groan, he stretched out in front of the cave, letting his joints pop into place, the blanket now acting as a pillow between his head and the rough rock of the cave wall. He wasn't expecting visitors. Most people knew to stay away from him on the date of her mother's birth and of her death.

Still, just because he didn't expect something didn't mean he'd actually get his way, did it? His bright blue eyes shot up and watched as a raven flew into the clearing by the cave. A slight smile appeared on his face, and he greeted Rapscallion with a silent nod, stubbornly beginning to wipe tears from his cheeks, knowing who would appear next. And, as if on cue, there he came. Bryce watched the man walk in, raising a hand in greeting, hoping his eyes didn't look too red and puffy...

Chuckling at Zephyr's greeting, Bryce nodded. "You know, I did notice that, but I do not know what it means either. And I couldn't quite remember the position of Venus. So thank you for reminding me." He shook his head in amusement, itching his nose, before looking over at the bird. "No, thank you. I'm not that hungry." In truth, he was fasting. He'd had nothing to eat all day, but he wasn't sure if his mother would approve of or not. But no one had said anything at either the camp's breakfast or lunch, so he figured she couldn't care too much. "Thank you though," he added, quickly remembering his manners toward the older gypsy.

ooc: Bah, mine sucks.[/center]

[The Hatterdasher]

Zephyr had picked up more than a few of Sophie’s talents. He had been around the woman for a long time. She helped him down a rocky road of a childhood. She had managed to pass on a few of her talents. He could only repay her by watching her and helping her out by running things that were to troublesome for her to run on her own, or to run altogether. He settled arguments and the like. He helped move and set up tents. He ran festival season, most of it, anyway. But he was digressing. He had picked up a few of Sophie’s talents over time, and one was observation. So even though Bryce hoped his eyes didn’t look too red and puffy, which they didn’t. But Zephyr still noticed them.

He didn’t say anything, though. He was busy trying to remember what day it was and why it was so sad it made Bryce cry. He remembered with a click, almost instantly after he began to think. It was Esme’s birthday. How could he have forgotten it? He had practically grown-up with the woman. True, it wasn’t like he had been a close friend or anything; their relationship was nothing like his and Bryce’s. It didn’t even come close. But it was like going to school or to church with someone your whole life, sitting next to them, talking to them. Then one day, they were gone. Zephyr remembered the raid that had taken Esme away. He was too busy protecting Mother Sophie to see her carted off, but those who had relayed him the sad truth. It was after Esme’s kidnapping that he and Bryce became so close, if he recalled correctly. The male looked up at the sky still. He knew Esme was delicate subject with Bryce. But her birthday couldn’t go unnoticed. It was an important day. Technically, it was over already, since the day before had been her birthday, but it was still worth noticing.

“Maybe...” He started, sitting on a large rock. “It symbolizes those who’s lives have passed?” He offered. He didn’t say anything directly about Esme, but the message was clear. The older man pulled out his guitar and strummed the beginning chords of Danny Boy. He paused and tuned it a little bit before starting again, then stopping to tune some more. The guitar itself would never be fully in tune, of course. Zephyr knew that. The wood was old and warped and so it gave off a slightly old, ‘twang’ sound with each note. It was good at festivals and the like, and especially good for strumming or for cheerful, quick songs. But as a slow song instrument, it wasn’t good. He liked it though, and that was all that mattered. He paused in his reverie, as if remembering something, before speaking, his voice low.

“Mother Sophie tells me that everyone who dies becomes part something in the night sky. Those who are mostly pure of heart become part of stars. Those who are evil become black holes and stars on the brink of death. And those who are the purest of heart become the best thing possible: part of the planets themselves. So maybe…” He pointed up to Mars, in all it’s bright glory. “Esme became part of Mars up there. And she’s making it shine as bright as possible just for you. You’re lucky. My parents probably became stars. I think Maggie would’ve been a planet, though. She was a good girl, she was. She liked Venus, though.” If he had been with anyone else, his sanity and honesty would’ve been questioned after that statement. Most people didn’t believe he understood Sophie. Others thought that he was crazy too. But he knew Bryce never thought he was crazy, and that’s what counted. He was a good friend.

“But let’s step away from that for a bit.” He said a little bit afterward, strumming his guitar quickly; as if he was chasing the subject away. “How have things been around here? Anyone stop by?” Zeph habitually asked this question, mostly as a joke on his part. But tonight he seemed to have a more serious tone, as if he subconsciously knew something. He did know something, actually. The other night, something had happened. What exactly, he didn’t know. What he did know, however, was that it involved a teacher and a student from Florence’s, and Bryce. The teacher in question was evil; he had tried to rape the girl. He knew this because one of the gypsies who had saved the girl had told him about it. He had too, he wanted in Mother Sophie’s tent, and Zephyr needed to know the reason. He told them not to tell anyone else unless it was necessary, and they swore not to. If there was trouble raised about it, he’d take care of it. It was good to have authority sometimes.

He wouldn’t ask Bryce about it outright, though. No, he’d give him a chance to explain before he started asking questions. He knew, and Bryce probably knew that knew, because why wouldn’t he know? He knew. “Anything knew? New, I mean?” Pesky ‘knew’s. They got his thoughts all jumbled. Maybe it was the evil, too. This place had to have a bit on it, like gum on a shoe. Rapscallion even noticed it, because he hopped to a spot away from the cave, by a tree, and cawed loudly, angry that evil had decided to come near his favorite place other then Zephyr’s shoulder.

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Post Length: 894 words
Notes: Zephyr’s such a dork. A mad dork, but a dork nonetheless. If I messed up any details with the ‘red scarf warning’ thread, tell me and I’ll fix it.
For: Poetry!
Lyrics: Second Chance, Shinedown

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[Poe]

Did You... Sail Across The Sun...?

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Bryce wasn't stupid, he'd picked up several things from Mother Sophie too. No, he couldn't totally understand the old woman, but as a gypsy in this camp he often visited her tent to pay his respects to their leader, to the old woman. So he knew all about observation, both from her and his own job here at the cave. He knew that Zephyr saw his eyes, though they were barely able to be seen in the dark anyway. But he was grateful that the older man had said nothing about his mother, at least not yet. He didn't need a new wave of tears when he was supposed to be acting strong. When he was supposed to be sitting a vigil for her, wishing for her to appear in his dreams like she used to when he was younger. A sigh fell from his mouth, and he glanced at Zephyr, who had pulled out his guitar, starting a sentence. To Bryce, it seemed like he was trying to channel his words through the strings of the instrument. He rubbed his eyes, grinning slightly. "Maybe it does," he said, to appease the man, to not appear to be too distraught- though he'd probably see straight through that disguise. Maybe. Bryce sure hoped not.

The beginning notes of Danny Boy floated through the air around Bryce's head with a twang, as if words were still struggling to make their way out of Zeph's throat, still lining themselves up behind the gypsy's wise mouth. And when they were ready, they out poured and spilled before Bryce like the stars above them. Each shining with what Bryce hoped was truth. He felt like a child though, as he gazed up at Mars, hoping that his mother, Esme, was really up there, glowing as a part of a planet. Though, he almost wished she was in heaven where he knew she'd be eternally resting. He sighed, glancing at the man who sat on the large rock, shrugging his broad shoulders. "Where ever she is, I hope she's happy and safe. That's all I can hope for," he said softly, shaking his head. Of course, thinking her so close as a planet was a nice thought, he didn't want to be selfish and keep her there. He had nothing to say for Zephyr's own woes, staying quiet, sure that it was a sign of disrespect, but he was hardly paying attention.

In truth, his mind had gone all the way back to the raid. He'd seen his mother dragged off with his very own eyes. He sniffed slightly, passing a hand down his face, barely able to pull himself back into the conversation here in the presence, still very focused on his mother's bloodied hand reaching through the bars of the prison wagon toward him, her shrill voice calling out her love for him one last time. It was breaking his heart all over again.

Once again, the guitar was used to chase away the last conversation, used to start a new one, and Bryce watched the man for a long moment, his eyes suddenly hard. "If you want information, Zeph, I'd rather you just flat out ask me instead of dance around it like you normally do." He scowled for a moment longer, his pride injured as well as his heart as he thought back on the past events. "Lillian Macarthur, I don't know if you know her... Girl from school, new professor, a shifter, from Florence and Realms," he jerked his head in the direction of the cave. He didn't know if Zeph knew of their... dangerous relationship, and if he did, if he approved of it or not- probably not. He took a deep breath. "He, ah, caught us together? And almost raped her on the way back to the school. And I couldn't f- do anything about it." He cut off the cuss word at the last moment, his blue eyes closing to the world as he pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to forget about those nasty events. Swallowing hard he looked at Zephyr, studying his face.

And then that fateful question fell from his lips.

Why?"[/center]