The Amaryllis Project [ Chapter Seven ]
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
"The waiting room was weird," That was what Steven was saying when Iriel arrived, Francesca Noemi stopping next to him.
"What? How and why?" Kichirou was there too.
"Well, I don't know. Everyone was dressed like maniacal fashion rejects, and they all just looked pretty pissed off. Like... they pulled out their cell phones like weapons and glared menacingly at nobody at all. Oh, and there were babies. They all had babies..."
Iriel was suddenly not so sure about his new awaiting fate.
.x.
When Iriel returned to his room later, he was accompanied by three more people. First off was the much anticipated newly-arrived figure that he'd been told about, Steven Hartell. The other, was Francesca Noemi, still with her clipboard, glasses and slightly amused insisting that she was better off referred to as "Fran" or "Franny" rather than her full first and middle name - to which Iriel decided to forever refer her as because it sounded so... cute. In a way. The last was Kichirou, with a jacket pulled over his T-shirt and jeans and the hood pulled over his bright platinum blond hair. He and Steven were having a very hearty conversation on both sides, with quick eager replies and a lot of mutual laughter and nods.
"So how's your life?" came the initial greeting from Steven, "Still going steady with that Verdict girl?"
"Ch', of course Hart," Kichirou had answered, "Good fine and sunny is my life. Katsurou still doesn't like her though, thinks she's a psycho. I think she never got over the fact that he gave her best friend and room mate the thing she wanted most for her birthday."
"Oh you mean that," Steven laughed as he hauled up his suitcase, hefting it over his shoulder as he manoeuvred the pull-along that he had up the last flight of stairs with a bit of help from Kichirou, "Well you know Katsurou. Anybody who goes against what he likes tends to be marked a little weird. He's always like this. You two getting along fine? Katsurou still allergic to needles and noise?"
Iriel perked slightly in surprise at his question, but Kichirou went on without missing a beat. "As always. And messiness too. But that's no surprise. You've known him as long as we've known each other so you know what to do."
"Poke him with dear Stephanos of course, it's tradition. Almost," Steven bantered back, "Why..."
Behind them, Iriel and Francesca Noemi were silently tailing.
"Do they always talk like that?" Iriel whispered to her at length, Francesca Noemi had nodded at him with a slight grimace. "Always?" Iriel further pressed. The response was still the same, the muted, resigned nodding which made her poker straight auburn hair bounce. For a moment, Iriel was reminded of Xenia, with her own bouncy black curls. How similar and yet how different these two girls were! They were chatty, with tongues that seem loath to ever pause, talking and talking and talking was something they seem to always do, and they were - he dare say - specialists at it too. But Xenia was an air head, or at least very blank and airy, head high in the clouds and living in some foreign paradise that Iriel had never before nor ever will reach. Francesca Noemi however... With her glasses over her myopic eyes, strong cheekbones and down-to-earth expression that was mid-way between reproachful and demeaning was a different story altogether. Iriel had to admit, Francesca Noemi was the time that commanded attention for a totally different reason than Xenia. "They can really talk," Iriel muttered to her after a length of time, determined not to let the silence drag too long.
Francesca Noemi gave him a small resigned grin, revealing her straight, polished teeth that looked very much as though she had visited a dentist the day before, and replied in a hushed whisper. "Yeah, two chatty old women they are aren't they?" she teased silently, looking even slightly mischievous, "I think it comes with them being friends for so long. Has Kichirou ever told you? They met in here too, then realized they went to the same school, had the same co-curricular activity, interests and dislikes. I don't know about the likes, but they mutually hate a lot of things. Including chocolate," Francesca Noemi looked positively repulsed at this point, as though she couldn't bear the idea of anyone hating chocolate. "Stranger thing is that Katsurou loves it. So he and I revolt against them when these two troublemakers get up to no good. Alliance by sweet foods, I call it."
Iriel nodded, not quite processing the extra stuff she had told him, "You and this Steven Hart guy are really close eh? I understand the relationship between you and the Yamasaki brothers are childhood friends, but where does he come in?"
Francesca Noemi smiled as she adjusted her off-shoulder shirt, pulling at the white straps, "Oh, he's my cousin. We used to have this joke between us that we don't know each other. Or if we did, that he was my mother's, younger sister's, friend's, daughter's, mother's, friend's son. Which equated to the same thing though most people don't realize it at first." Her smile was charming, and with the mischief evident on her face, she was starting to resemble something like her cousin.
"Ah I see," Iriel said, though he didn't really care, "So you must be real busy huh? With everything going on, people moving in and out..."
"Oh never! It's busier tomorrow, today's still fine. The veterans all moving in today, not much fuss. Tomorrow's all the little buggers who're new. It's a whole matter tomorrow."
"Then, where were you all morning then Noemi, honey?" Iriel glanced up to see that it was Steven speaking, "You didn't pick up your phone all morning, and you didn't reply my messages either."
Francesca Noemi adjusted her glasses, not looking one bit fazed at being addressed so sickeningly sweetly, "My phone was under repair Harty, darling. I thought I told you about it so long ago?"
Steven shook his head, as he fumbled for his keys, finally coming to a stop outside the dormitory Iriel had exited minutes ago to escort him upstairs. "I've long forgotten Noemi, honey, you know my memory. Can't remember anything to save my life."
Icily, she replied. "I can sure see that, darling Harty. And I see you've gone to dye your hair. Again."
"Don't you love it my sweet, sweet honey?" he said, running his hand through the outrageously coloured hair, "fire brick red, blanched almond yellow, dodger blue, cobalt green and sienna brown. Wonderful isn't it? I see you hair is as boring as ever, dark goldenrod blond."
She tossed her own light hair, and glared at her cousin. Iriel could see why Francesca Noemi would pretend to be unrelated to him now. Someone was uptight and strict as her would be loath to admit to being the relative of such a bright, insane individual. "It's auburn, darling. It's a nice hair colour, pity you didn't do anything about your eyes, still plain black as always I see?"
Steven ignored her, turning instead to Iriel, "Well I'm sure glad you came."
"...Actually, so am I."
Iriel never knew that he would regret these words.
.xxx.
Labels: T.A.P.
about one xREDballoon
about meIt was the username that was adopted either in late August or early September of 2009. It was the combined effect of too many games on Orisinal (especially High Delivery) and also her long-time love for how the large red carnival balloons when they fly away.
about meFinalized as a digital signature only in November of the same year, it has since been used everywhere: her previous Gaia account, her account on bubbl.us, and of course every recent endeavor on web and graphic design. It was an aim of hers to use it as something of a brand. From her sketches to simple blog layouts, one xREDballoon presents is her favourite signature as of now.
about meone xREDballoon is the internet handle of a girl, born on a wet day in the early morning of late February. Although astrologically she is a Pisces, she displays many of the Aquarian traits, possibly as a result of being born near the time. She likes the concept of beauty in its most primitive classical form, ruffles layered upon each other generously for flounce or decor, detailed black lace be it crochet or woven, a whole palette of colours from turquoise to grey. She is charmed by the way an old well-read book smells on a wet rainy day, and the way the pages feel, all crinkly and wise under her fingers as she turns the page. She loves the inviting appeal of a blank notebook, and a good gel-ink pen in the colour of the sky.
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about meAndthenshe-fell@blogspot was named as such in October 09, on a whim and on a wish to match the layout that time. And Then She Fell was a lot of things back then: a roleplay layout (in bbcode), a roleplay idea (which was never developed) and also the words emblazoned in huge Ruritania upon an image which showed a falling girl. That was the beginnings of this writing blog as the all-new concept of And Then She Fell.
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