The Amaryllis Project [ Chapter Two ]
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
When Iriel woke up later that day, it was to the sound of three very loud and highly indignant voices. Groaning, he rolled over and cuddled up against the cold white-washed wall for some much needed comfort. He could have sworn he heard a giggle when he did that.
"How could you have not told us Katsurou! I thought you promised that us four should share everything!" came the first voice, shrill as can be and just about as calming as a foghorn.
"Well... It was three in the morning, you all were asleep... It, isn't a big deal anyway. It's not like I never have friends over for projects..."
"But this is different!" Prim and prissy this second voice was, Iriel scrunched his eyes tightly together as he tried to block out the foreign voices assailing his ear mercilessly, "We've never actually let them stay over before... And jeez, did you really have to squash in with your horrible prick of an elder brother? You could've just dropped by and gotten the spare mattress from us you know!" The tone, was growing steadily more condescending, despite how young it sounded in comparison to the more severe, matured voice of whoever it was supposed to be.
"You were all asleep! And you know how you're like when you're sleeping. Especially you Lira," the mature voice now sounded a little bit more disapproving, maybe even that little bit reproachful as the addressed — Lira — probably let out a small 'hmph' of dismissive distaste. "And anyway, we'll all be moving off to the Channing's boarding facility tomorrow morning. You all need your sleep if you're going to remember to pack everything." It was amazing, how mellifluous this voice sounded, in its full richness and maturity. Like fine wine left too long in its barrel, thought Iriel, before he resisted his urge to smack his forehead and settled for a mental version of the same action instead. He had to be going crazy. He suspected this to be attributed to the very faint but very sweet and rather pleasant smell of flowers that seemed to perpetually haunt the pillow.
"Aiden! Aiden you prick! What did you do to poor Mimi Catique! And Otto Von Schnurmeister! you're getting it this time Aiden!" That voice, that voice he did definitely recognise. The very sound of it brought to mind the painfully clear and gut-wrenchingly graphic image of the withered old hag that brought about this whole hullabaloo. The pale wispy hair twisted up neatly, the papery wrinkled skin, the old but resolute face with its incomprehensible and perpetual stubborn look... It was not helping Iriel resume his rest. But he was not about to show that, no. He was going to stay here and gather whatever knowledge he could by listening in to them, then decide what he could do. So it was not particularly heroic, his chosen course of action, but at least it was rational and not... well, stupid. No, but even now he refused absolutely to admit that what he did earlier that morning was the very definitive epitome of stupidity and recklessness. Alright then, maybe on one count: he was brash. But heaven help him, he was definitely never going to admit that he was... was... imbecilic.
Somewhere in the background there was a screeching yowl, as well as the hasty pattering of heavy footsteps as it ascended the stairs and came to a halt somewhere Iriel judged to be outside the door. Right where the three loud voices where located. "Good morning Katsurou," he started, sounding way too exuberant for someone who had just been shrieked at — if it was him anyway — by the infamous hag, "Good morning Naomi, Lira and dear Amaia. I see our guest is still asleep," he quipped cheerfully. By the sound of his voice, he apparently had stuck his head past the door frame to check on his "sleeping" figure and make sure.
The one with the mature voice however was not appeased. "Kichirou, what did you do to Catique and Otto this time? You know how Auntie Letty hates it when you disturb her cats. I know they're prissy, but you don't have to go all—"
"Yes yes, my dear darling little brother. I understand. I'll try not to step on their tails with muddy sneakers the next time they monopolise the entire doorway. Okay?" He sounded completely unrepentant. No trace of guilt whatsoever, as he spoke. But Iriel's mind seemed to catch. Was this strange Kichirou character the one who had bullied the two cats Mimi Catty and Otto von whatisits? If so, why did that hag call him Aiden? Was his name not 'Kichirou' as the other one had said? This really was a crackpot family, he was not to be mistaken.
"Good morning Adair. I see your friend is still asleep, young people these days— Aiden! So there you are you bad child!" From the sounds of clattering on the stairs, It would seem as though the speaker had taken off in a wobbly run of sorts. The heavy footsteps resumed, this time at a quicker pace, and it was not soon before both the footsteps had descended down the stairs and out of audible range. There was a small sigh in response to this.
"I think I'll go wake him up now. Naomi, Lira, Amaia... You all better help Auntie Letty with the breakfast. After she's done punishing Kichirou I doubt she'll be in any mood—"
"We know Katsurou," piped a new voice, this one sweeter and much more soothing to the ear than the whiny complaints before, "We'll get the table all set up by the time Auntie is done. Come on Lira, Amaia!" And with that, there were three pairs of footsteps descending the stairs.
Iriel however was more focused on the fact that there was now a pair of footsteps coming towards him. "Um, Iriel was it? I think you had better wake up now before Auntie Letty gets angry. You're... hungry right? Hello?" Now there was a hand on his shoulder, shaking him cautiously as though approaching a scary bear or at least, some carnivorous creature, rather than the eighteen-year-old brunet that was Iriel Azrael. "Well, aren't you going to wake up? Or would you rather I have the girls take over? I assure you that I am a much more merciful alarm clock than they are." That voice, the impertinent manner of speech — it was remotely familiar. If given a bit more time, maybe Iriel could figure out who it belonged to. But no, Iriel had had enough of listening. It was time he gave his brain some visual information to mull over, rather than offbeat words and disjointed sentences. Thus, Iriel rolled over, and very slowly sat up, rubbing his left eye as it attuned to the light. "Oh, you were much easier to wake than Kichirou. I assure you he wouldn't wake up until the IBKOD starts to shriek... Oh, anyway... Why don't you come down for breakfast first then we'll see what we can make out of you?"
The voice was really very familiar. As he watched the individual move off to the to desks securely positioned between the two beds, something seemed to start the cogs clicking. He seemed familiar enough. Now that he considered it, maybe he was related to that girl he saw last night, the estranged character who was the personal embodiment of the term 'crackpot'. He did look a lot like her, what with his pale hair and beryl eyes. Even the slight, pixie-like build with the rather narrow shoulders and boyish figure were exactly alike his previous impression. He yawned, mostly on accident since it did catch him by surprise, and rubbed his other eye as he clambered out of the bed. He stretched, making sure that every inch of his five foot eight inch body was firmly accustomed and ready to begin the day before he turned around and, out of politeness, began to tidy the bedsheets. It would just be rude if he left the covers all over the palce, even if it was customary for him to leave it as it was. When he finally straightened however, he found the blue-eyed boy standing by, arms crossed and looking quite pleased. From the expression, Iriel thought for a moment he was about to be praised by this odd character. Instead, he held out a hand, as though initiating a handshake.
"Good morning Iriel. I don't think I've introduced myself yet," he smiled at him in a familiarly awkward manner, while Iriel pondered about how he could possibly have known his name, "My name is Katsurou. Katsurou Yamasaki, really, but I don't think my surname is going to come in useful anywhere." Iriel blinked at him, for lack of anything better to do, then took the proffered hand a little suspiciously and giving it a firm shake. The other teenager tipped his head mildly to the side as though studying him, "You didn't seem quite so tall yesterday. Basketball player?" He was really random, almost identical to that girl he met yesterday. But now that he had taken a good look at him, maybe the girl could justify why she never seemed to show how she minded sharing a bed with him. This was a innocent guy, and from how alike they were, had to be twins. It would explain why they looked alike, why he had been arranging that immaculate shelf of books and why he knew his name! Gradually, Iriel relaxed. This family was not crazy, they just happened to have a pair of identical twins of different genders! Somehow there was immense relief flooding through his being at the moment, and it was absolutely inexplicable. After all, he could not have really suspected an elder brother violating his younger sister in any way could he? He was sure he had more sense than that at least!
Then, realising that he had yet to reply to this shrimp of a teenage male's question, he shook his head mildly. It was only then that he actually realised that Katsurou was no longer paying any attention. He was, instead, preoccupied with staring at a somehow offending vase on the table. Iriel had wondered why the blond teenager was restraining his obvious urge to move over and do something about it. That is, he had wondered about it. Until he realised that he was still holding onto his hand in a lax manner, upon which he immediately let go. As he had probably done before, he offered him a sheepish smile. Katsurou however simply moved over to the glass vase and adjusted it, fiddling a little with the stems of the plants that were positioned in it.
So that, was the source of that sweet faint flowery scent came from. Curious, he followed him and peered over his shoulder at petite collection of pink, violet and alabaster velvety blooms. They were only clippings of flowers, with only flowers and stems in the relatively empty display vase. Despite this, there was a slight presence of water in the glass vase. It was an obviously cared for plant, if the beautiful retention of its colour and even an inkling of its original scent was not enough of an indicator. Iriel wondered if that girl and her brother here were, apart from neurotic, potential gardeners. "What are these?" He'd asked, conversationally while Katsurou continued to fuss over the flowers, arranging and desperately trying to get them to stay in a fixed position.
"Sinningia speciosa. Also known as gloxinias," he replied, without looking up, "Doctor Channing and his wife gave us a whole potful of them together with a terracotta jar filled with beautiful amaryllises to commemorate the resounding success of their project. But I can't very well bring them, pot and all, upstairs can I? Kichirou'll spill the pot within the hour, and it takes an awful lot of trouble to get soil of the carpet. Not to mention Auntie Letty's insufferable cats—" Here, he abruptly paused as though suddenly realising that he may have said too much. "How about breakfast then? I think Naomi and the rest should have the table set by now." In a very unsubtle method of avoiding the topic and bringing an unsatisfactory end to the conversation, Katsurou left the beautiful, deep-throated flowers as they were, then clattered down the stairs. Iriel studied the flowers, slowly reaching out to touch on of their velvety petals cautiously before he withdrew and carried on studying them. That Katsurou guy did seem very attached to these undeniably frippery collection of blooms, though it was strange that a fellow male would be into such things, Iriel decided that he was not going to be the one to judge. He was the twin of that strange girl after all.
At the thought of the strange girl, he immediately straightened. Maybe he could catch a glimpse of her at breakfast? That sounded feasible, everyone had breakfast together didn't they? Satisfied with that simplistic explanation, Iriel turned away from the narrow-necked glass vase and headed towards the stairs. Maybe he would get better answers from her.
.xxx.
Labels: T.A.P.
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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.
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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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