#serastium

     regardless  of  what  she  felt,  her  hound  seemed  to  hold  a  different  opinion.  though  the  first  snowfall  both  parties  had  ever  witnessed  was  only  but  a  brief  one  and  was  gone  by  morning,  ottie  was  undoubtedly  ecstatic.  he  bolted  down  to  the  bailey  and  directly  into  the  first  pile  of  snow,  though  a  rather  puny  one.  the  sight  of  his  eagerness,  especially  when  he  munched  happily  on  a  mouthful  of  snow,  was  almost  enough  to  warm  her  freezing  bones,  despite  the  dirty  glares  and  whispers  from  dreadfort  residences.  for  the  next  few  days,  ottie  would  run  down  to  the  courtyard  in  search  of  more  snow  that  may  have  formed  over  night,  clearly  unhappy  when  he  spied  none.

     though  people  casted  cruel  looks  upon  her  and  ottie,  no  one  dared  speak  anything  to  words  directly  to  her.  she  was,  after  all,  still  a  lady  in  the  eyes  of  the  common  folk,  though  she  no  longer  felt  as  one.  she  was  not  a  willing  residence  of  the  castle  like  most  of  them,  but  rather  a  prisoner  bound  by  an  oath  she  was  forced  to  say  before  a  heart  tree.  if  she  had  been  told  as  a  little  girl,  during  a  time  where  she  fantasized  about  being  whisked  away  from  the  terrible  keep,  that  she  was  destined  to  marry  someone,  iren  would  have  been  giddy  with  delight.  however,  the  entirety  of  this  situation  was  more  of  a  nightmare  than  a  dream  come  true.

     whereas  she  knew  of  the  looks  and  judgmental  mumbles,  her  dog  was  blissfully  oblivious  and  trotted  around  merrily,  sniffing  at  passing  people  and  things  as  his  owner  trailed  behind  him.  iren  wondered  if  ottie’s  unworried  behavior  was  attributed  to  the  lack  of  gregor’s  presence  ---  he  had  yet  to  register  the  new  threats  they  lived  with,  it  seemed.  he  would  carelessly  trot  into  the  deep,  unfamiliar  halls  of  the  castle,  occasionally  barreling  off  like  he  did  when  his  caught  sight  of  snow  for  the  first  time.  there  was  at  least  once  incident  a  day  and  that  one  had  been  no  different.

     “  he  is  not  one  of  his  dogs,  if  that’s  what  you’re  worried  about,  ”  she  said  coolly  and  seemingly  instantly,  despite  her  slight  breathlessness,  after  locating  her  hound.  she  leaned  down  to  tug  gently  at  the  dog’s  worn  leather  collar,  signaling  to  him  to  back  off,  to  stop  sniffing  at  the  person’s  clothes,  which  ottie  happily  obliged.  she  did  not  know  if  the  tenseness  and  fear  that  prompted  her  to  say  that  was  imagined  or  not.  standing  up,  she  finally  caught  a  glimpse  of  his  face.  “  he  is  harmless.  ” 

home : a volatile place ( fragile and always prone to break ) . tonight ended up like most did : with father and son at each other’s throats while mother just cries , and cries , and cries . [ ‘ STOP WHININ’ , YOU STUPID BI- ! ] opportunity : distraction !  he seizes it when other’s head is turned and throws the first punch . it doesn’t end well ---- it never does . 

so , the adolescent finds himself roaming the streets of gotham city’s narrows , with a bloody nose and anger in his fists , as the clock nears 12 a.m . . all he wants is to hurt , maim and maul ( like the mad dog you are ) , so instinctively he heads to the one place where he can do that : the abandoned car park . 

isn’t his intent to harm anyone------ not at first  . initially , he was opting to take his frustration out on discarded property . so , thats what he starts to do . finding a tire iron among the rubble , boy begins violently smashing in the laminated glass of car windows . 

SO CAUGHT UP IN DESTRUCTION that jack almost doesn’t notice the form in his periphery , edging slowly toward the exit . pivoting on a heel , violent child walks briskly over to this person . “ hello ? hey ! uh - didn’t mean t’ startle ya....look please don’t call the cops ------ i was just blowin’ off some steam , “ spoken with a nervous timbre as soon as he approaches . until its clear who this is and what they mean to do , he’d wear the mask of a contrite teenager , one who fell victim to the stupidity / the impulsiveness of youth . 

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐄 : 𝐁𝐎𝐘 𝐅𝐈𝐃𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐒  / 𝐁𝐎𝐘 𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐒 . ‘ be not afraid ‘ is thought with the utmost sarcasm . ( remember  / isaiah 35 : 4 ‘ your god will come , HE WILL COME WITH VENGEANCE , with divine retribution he will come to save you  .  .  .  )  a lovely thought indeed , but truth of the matter is that no one would be coming ; there is no savior ------ 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐇 𝐍𝐎𝐑 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐓 . ( pity  .  .  .  ) * & as good doctor approaches , corners of plush lips would turn up into a welcoming smile . its an expression that’s well practiced * & yet  .  .  .  one that still feels off ( AS IF IT DOESN’T BELONG ) . “ good evening ---- i sincerely apologize for the wait . MY NAME IS DR. CRANE * & YOU’LL BE UNDER MY CARE for the duration of your ‘ stay ‘ here at arkham asylum . “  well rehearsed line is spoken as easily as taking a breath . “ if you feel up to it i’d like to ask you a few questions . “ 𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐇𝐑𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆 , 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐁𝐑𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐈𝐓 𝐂𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐈𝐒𝐍’𝐓 𝐀 𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓 . “ shall we begin ? “ 

It had been about a week, maybe two since Fayren had started living with Shingo. The cat had given him the couch, if you could call it that. And his only blanket. Compared to the small, lumpy and uncomfortable bed he slept on, the sofa was far more comfortable. The cat didn’t really mind though, he was used to sleeping on bare floors behind alley ways. Or in  cardboard boxes. So the warmth of his small apartment, regardless of it’s comfort was a blessing in disguise. 

‘I got the wrong idea. Somehow, I’ve been fooling myself into thinking we could be family.’

The words were floating in his head, lingering in the air as the two of them ate their instant noodle cups. Shingo didn’t look at Fayren, his eyes INSTEAD watching the string of noodles as he  brought them up to his mouth. The steam from the cup was filling up the air around him, infecting the house with a brothy smell. It was cozy, it was warm. The two of them here, eating together, sleeping in the same room- on occasion sharing their troubles from the day. It wasn’t like Shingo came home every night, and when he did he always was arriving late, rolling back in off the streets at 2 am, or even later some nights. But still...

   JAPAN  -

goodness  how  much  she  loved  Japan.  of  course,  ahí  es  donde  estaba  fay  (that  is  where  fay  was).  she’s  worried  sick  about  him  ;  it  was  time  to  take  this  MATTER  into  her  hands.  she’s  aware  how  unhealthy  this  place  was  for  him  .  .  . PERO  por  qué  se  queda  ahí ( but why does he stay there ? ! )  ? !  

As  she  COMFORTABLY  (  a  little  TOO  comfortably  )  walks  around  the  estate  she  begins  to  wonder  WHICH  house  is  his.  hm  -  a  ver  -  cual  casita  ,  cual  casita  ? (  hm,  let’s  see  -  which  little  house  is  it  ).  a  crash  grabs  her  attention  &  she  hears  his  name  being  yelled.  quickly  she  grabs  her  wand  -  she  follows  the  noise -  seriously  did  this  place  not  have  SECURITY  ?  but  any  questions  EVAPORATE  as  she  sees  someone  standing  over  fay  -  

  oh.  hell.  no.

  who  the  hell  did  this  person  think  they  were  doing  to  him  ?  anger  fuels  the  hufflepuff  ;  was  this  the  reason  why  he  wasn’t  answering  her  posts  ?  ?  she  gets  between  fay  &  the  mysterious  raven  who  was  harming  him.

❝  ya   -  basta.  (enough. it’s  over.)  Fay  ;  we’re  LEAVING, you  don’t  belong  with  TRASH .  ❞ she  spits  the  word  (  full  of  hatred  )  towards  the  other  individual.  quickly,  she  gently  takes  his  hand  and  leads  him  out.  she  looks  behind  her  and  a  couple  of  people  begin  to  follow  them.

  ❝   fay ;  close  your  eyes  &  don’t  open  them  -  we’re  apparting the  hell  out  of  here.  ❞

The mutt was pleasantly surprised to see that Fayren had stayed right where he told him, rather than disappearing off while he went to fetch some bandages. It was all up to what the boy felt like, and apparently he’d rather sit tight for bandaid or two rather than sulk alone elsewhere in his muddled uniform. 

One hour ago, Masaomi & his associates rode up to the docks to check their shipment, guard their territory from any unwanted visitors. Forty-five minutes ago, Masaomi’s keen hearing & senses picked up on a body that wasn’t supposed to be there, & he quietly alerted his brethren to investigate, while ordering the others to keep a lookout. Thirty minutes ago, those that went searching stopped responding to their radios. Fifteen minutes ago, one of them called their boss on his cellphone, & just before he was able to get out what was happening, there was a knife in his throat. Ten minutes ago, Masaomi was the only one left with any fight, as he was the only one able to keep up with the assailant, but it wasn’t going to last when he got pinned to the ground with a knife millimetres above his throat. 

Five minutes ago, something inside the attacker broke. He came to his senses ( Did he know the name of the family he was picking a fight with? ), dropped his blade, & ran off to wash the blood on his hands in a puddle by a shipping container. 

Now he was curled up & crying. Masaomi has just gotten off the phone with his brothers. He walks up to the impotent mess & kneels down beside him.

❝ H-Hey you. Listen. I need to talk to you. ❞ Oh boy. This would be... fun. 

"no one says spunky, obasan"

“Just take the damn compliment.” This kid.