童话故事里的狼心

Tall and proud.

Fake smiles.

This was the life of an aristocrat.

—“Young master, please mind your manners.”

—“Young master, learn to please others.”

—“Young master, be a perfect being.”

The rain feels almost vindictive in the way it chilled her – and it was more than a reminder that she was still painfully, smartingly alive amidst the grey tumult overhead. That even earth and space itself needed times to be completely fucked up as well lest it stopped spinning on its axis and imploded like a supernova collision lent some comfort in the biting cold of void—

There it was, one of the few voices in Barry’s life that could make his mouth and thoughts stand still for a moment. Even though almost years had passed, Chali Dan’s voice still had that familiar melodic ring to it, as if nothing had changed. But things have changed, Barry thought with regret, remembering what he once had and watching old feelings rise painfully to the surface of his memory.

Do you know her? –Blonde hair and a purple eyepatch. 

She freezes; hearing the tentative crackle on the other end of the line that signified a pause, a breath (hers, held) as the boy's lips turned into a smile and a kindly thanks was hung on his lips as though she were the good person who found the ring and wished to return it. No, no — it was all wrong! But one miscalculated steps and she could be ruined altogether;

Lumiose's most wanted; arrested by a foreign vigilante? The fairytale girl scowls and attempt to shimmy away from his grasp – but it is firm and untrusting and she is certain she's done for. 

"I think he misses you, miss! Better tell him that's an engagement ring you've got there and not just a piece of sparky rock!"

Distraction – and with a sharp jerk she escapes from his grasp and laughs a little with a curtsey and a bow (almost mocking in nature, and condescendingly sweet, it smothers;—)

"Why don't you bring it to her and fight her fiancé for it? I mean he's just some famous actor; nothing you can't handle – am I right, monsieur? Your lady is getting away, and you're merely

                                                                              w a t c h i n g?"

                                                       Is he really my brother? 

It's been so many years that Corinne reckons that she could hardly remember a time in her life when the familiar stranger wasn't there; was she four(?) when he joined their little family and made it a little more whole? Perhaps— 

                                                       Are you my new brother? 

Those were the words she had first spoken to him when the slightly older child had been introduced by the fosterers that took him in temporarily. And she remembers her parents nudging her forward to him (admittedly indulgently – like parents admonishing their child to be friendly; to be responsible for helping the other fit in a little more comfortably— but it was never to any avail. He was always far away and out of reach, like a kid who was always more mature that his age granted; just so... i n a c c e s s i b l e—) With that thought stagnating, Corinne pauses with her fingers dangling idly over the sniffling Azurill while her sight fixated numbly and absently on Archer's face as though his words had materialized into physical copy over his cheekbones and lips and nose. 

Which it didn't, instead prompting her to look stupid and square as she shook her head lightly to the question.

"No, thank you; maybe some extra lined paper if it's convenient for her to be at the bookstore, if not I'll purchase them tomorrow in the school shops instead." 

Her eyes cast to the ground quickly as soon as eye-contact is regained, a heat rushing to her face while she scruffs her feet into the thick carpeting and holds the pokémon considerably tighter to her chest in reflex, halfway hoping that her words haven't prompted him to look over to her desk full of balled up waste papers and his name written on the bulk of them—

"Is there anything else you'd require of me?"

Oh, she interrupts her thoughts with a punctuated pause, bending to release the Azurill from her grasp before continuing with her tentative thoughts; an attempt at small talk (maybe) with a high chance of earning a condescending duh instead;

"—!

The moment he had made a comment towards Corinne about riding the Ferris Wheel, he couldn’t help but notice the younger girl gaping at him, unable to respond. Perhaps it was merely because he saw just how badly she wanted to hop on the contraption, revel in its works, see from its heights that had made him actually give in. Or perhaps it was because he knew the feeling of being held back from some kind of childish desire due to the rules that bound him to the two individuals that were known as parents. Maybe that childish innocence that Corinne so visibly possessed both irked him and fascinated him. It was an innocence he once held and the moment his parents’ snatched it away from him, it was something he could no longer retrieve. Whatever the case was, Ryo just knew that he had just allowed a complete stranger to get to him. He began to wonder how that was even possible, his gaze trailing towards the Ninetales which was giving him an amused expression from his actions.

He glanced over at Corinne who appeared to be just as confused as he was in this entire matter. He couldn’t exactly blame her for that, after all, strangers rarely if not ever, went out of their way to do things for another stranger’s benefit. Shoujo, however, seemed to have encouraged the girl the moment she had pushed her towards the Ferris Wheel. Ryo observed as the Lolita Magical Girl’s eyes lit up in complete fascination at the mere sight of the attraction, her arms eagerly reaching towards it as if wanting to hold it in her grasp. Shoujo nudged her trainer’s leg, her tails steadily wrapping themselves around his legs in an affectionate manner. Looking at his Ninetales, Ryo rolled his eyes at Shoujo before nudging her playfully back.

"Is it really that amazing?" he voiced in a blunt manner, staring at the big wheel that stood before him. He supposed it was better to ride this than a roller coaster.

The moment her revel and awe over the attraction ended, Ryo felt tiny hands grab his own and begin pulling him towards the Ferris Wheel in eager longing. He suddenly felt as though this reality girl thing was a little different from his typical 2D girl dating SIM interaction. A kind of giddy, utter joy was clearly evident in the girl’s actions and present nature as she began to converse with him once again. Her tone rapid, excited and jubilant, her gestures childish and almost silly as she entwined her hands with his and rocked on her heels.

"You’re definitely a Magical Lolita type. Are you gonna turn into some fluffy bunny rabbit out of pure delight from all this?" Ryohei told her, raising an eyebrow before letting out a sigh, holding her steady to make sure she didn’t fall to the ground. "Of all people, Shoujo. Really?" he was looking at the Ninetales who simply let out a cheery recital of her name as her many tails gracefully encircled her.

"Hey hey hey. Huge planes with gaming devices and wide screen tvs are not geeky" he snapped, crossing his arms over his chest. "They are cool" he finished, adjusting his glasses as he spoke. He may have stashed a tv and some gaming consoles on his family’s plane, but that was not the point of the conversation. "And of course it’s a whole plane! If it weren’t it would still be a blueprint."

He was already feeling exhausted from Corinne’s boundless energy and they hadn’t even gotten on the Ferris Wheel yet. As the Lolita blonde knelt down to Shoujo the Ninetales immediately greeted her with a hug and nuzzle of her cheek. Ryo placed a hand over his face. Women. Kiddie women. His thoughts were soon rattled when Corinne made an exclaim, her finger pointing towards the revolving wheel. He said it once, he said it many times again, this girl was the real life version of some Magical Girl persona being in Lolita appearance.

"A whole plane, Ryohei!" Corinne exclaims as her pigtails danced with the movement of which she made toward the air-conditioned entrance of the attraction; euphoric and quixotic, her feet pointed and poised like a ballerina’s to which she stops – en pointe – before the automated doors and turns to face the older male as he approached with his pokémon. It had felt so good to finally have this dream tangible before her, and she presses her digits against the cool panels of the the window in wonderment—

                                               it’s beckoning her. —

The first step into the waiting area, and already she’s floored by the various languages of which announcements were made. Every where she turned, there would be visitors of all walks and colors; ethnicities and exotics of whom she would have loved to stop and befriend. A smaller child runs past her and collides promptly into the back of a Kanto man’s leg, a stifling sob escaping while the gentleman simply watched with a finger to his chin, wondering what had just happened. 

                                                               什么？he says, and Corinne simply shrugs and wanders off quickly to the bulletin board that had held up the photographs of many, many happy faces. 

It’s a little curious though – how most people in those pictures looked so alike; like families, or lovers; a certain closeness inexplicable that had been captured by the in-cabin cameras. Glancing briefly around for the head of brunette hair, she considers – that maybe their shots would never look as natural as these;

not friends, even. Barely acquaintances. 

"Hey Ryohei—" she beckons to the male as the ticketing queue takes another step forward (the movement like mechanics, a single step; a stagnant pause). "You’ve been here before haven’t you – Unova I mean; have you ever been on the Ferris Wheel then?" Another step; it’s closer now – she could almost hear the kindly voices of the ticketing woman. 

                                                            Tickets for two please;

                                                             all around the voices echo in                                                                  pleasantness— mixing in with                                                                   keyboard clicking; stubs tearing.

For developing both your muse and the way your muse writes. This was all rustinspencercohle's idea.

WRITE...