Build me up

Pripyat Soul · 05-13-2011, 03:06 PM

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WC: 548

Simply his father expected it of him, and still Pripyat Soul worked out of perceived obligations much of the time. It never crossed his mind to search for happiness elsewhere, somewhere that wouldn’t remind the youth daily of his shortcomings and his mother’s palpable absence. The boy was old enough to go out on his own and thrive-- or survive at least--yet that wasn’t an option. It never had been, never would be. So it didn’t matter how miserable he was, or how much the boy didn’t feel like working with some idiot from Aniwaya, he was going to anyway, it was just that simple.

Two reluctant feet carried him, as idle hands tossed the sack he carried with him. When he wasn’t lingering like a ghost, hoping to run into his sea shore lady again, he was out in Halifax, rummaging. Lately his rummages had been for nails, usable wood, any tools he might come across. None of these items were for him of course. It was all with his father, and the others in mind. Xeris and Noah especially, to whom he had grown quite distant through no fault of their own. It wasn’t that he didn’t like to contribute to his home any longer, it was only that he wished he wasn’t forced to be around others when he did it. The more he avoided them, the more he could avoid saying out loud all the realities he wished weren’t true.

There was that one light, he mused. That one being with whom when he talked the words came easy and natural. His father hadn’t been overly pleased that Pripyat had offered her sanctuary without prior consent, he hadn’t meant to bypass Jefferson’s law. It was only that, how could anyone turn away that creature? Pripyat stayed pleased, to whatever extent he could, if the golden lady just stayed. And so far she stayed. For this reason he wasn’t in completely sour spirits when he finally emerged from the depths of the Valley, tossing the sack of nails loosely at the woman’s feet.

”Hey.” The slate boy stood tall, large although not one couldn’t call him bulky, or even muscular exactly. He still had the lanky-youth look to him, gaunt but energetic. The girl before him was the color of cream, with dripping honey eyes. For a moment he was silent, overly so, uncertain as he looked her over. This wan’t what he had expected. She was nearly his age, maybe even a little younger. Before this, Arye was the only creature close to his own maturity level he had come across. The others had all been adults when he was a child, and even now after living alongside them in the adult ranks, he feel inferior to them and their age.

“I’m Pripyat.” One hand reached up to scratch the back of his head, wondering just what next they were going to do. The inexperienced man had been expecting someone who would direct him, tell him how to build the stupid barn. And surely they couldn’t keep running back to Jefferson for directions, that would only annoy the gruff man. Hopefully she knew enough about constrution, he mused with a some sarcasm. “I guess we’re gonna help build this barn together?”

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