[html]
Despite how much she had healed over time, it still felt like everything was hurting. If she stepped a certain way or was not careful enough, she would hurt. It was weird to come back to this place but she knew she had to find her son. It had not been her intention to desert and she almost wanted to stay back there to avoid any kind of conflict. He had to be over it by now, she assumed, and her returning would make matters worse. Her throat constricted and it suddenly became hard to breathe as she stepped awkwardly. Even though most of the healing had taken place, there was still a deal that needed to heal. She had left the pack AMA, but Maria knew she could not hold out much longer. Her own heart ached to be with her son, to tell him what happened, and if no one from that pack was going to help her then she would help herself.
The young girl traveled far with little help, only being able to scavenge any food nearby. Once a small group of wolves had helped her out and she carried a bit of meat with her (although dangerous) and had eaten quite greedily. Her body was thinner than it had been when she left and she was tired now. The sun had just disappeared below the earth and she was trying to find a place to rest for the night. It wasn't often she came across a city like this and she thought she might be close and had even thought she smelt her son somewhere. Cringing at the thought, she rested a hand on a the closest building and took weight off her leg. With a cringe and a deep breath, she kept going... looking for a vacant place to rest.
[/html]
[html]
i fought in the old revolution
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
How wandering did ease the soul. Beppe had almost always been in passing lately, wandering through old human buildings or skipping hopeless stones into the Atlantic. He stopped only occasionally to speak to someone, let some of his neglected English squeak its hinges, but other than that he had been keeping to himself. His mother had gone, Empusa had gone... The boy's personality, soul itself, was so dependent on his mother that when she was gone he wasn't sure how he should act, and it was through her absense that Beppe was beginning to figure out who he was.
In the meantime he had found himself a new friend, someone who seemed to match his mood at the time, and he hoped they would grow closer. Beppe had never really had a friend before; Empusa came close, but he hadn't seen her for quite a while. The boy had always thought himself as a bit of a clown, a fool for hire, but after spending two months or so of being a pensive, quiet thing he was beginning to reevaluate that. He did not like attention as much, he was not driven to ecstacy by the raucous laughter of others. He liked fleeting demismiles and gentle gestures. Anything that showed that he was not just a passing fad.
He should have known better than to wander around the human city in the dark. The shadows of tall buildings engulfed his black form, and the stars that were so clear from where he slept looked as if they were twinkling shyly through rust stained glass. This world was not nice; Beppe could tell by the stench that filled the alleyways, the broken glass and the crude paintings; oh, what had he gotten himself into? He didn't know the way back, he had become disoriented in the dark, and now the boy could only hope that he would stumble on a familiar street or building and be able to make his way home from there.
In midstep, he paused. Beneath the heavy scent of old alcohol and soggy cigarettes, the boy sensed something else. For a moment he couldn't even put a name to it, but it made his heart lift a little. Funny, how the way something looked at a certain angle, or a certain scent, could do that to someone. Eyes wide, he looked around, knowing that whatever it was should be so close he should be able to see it. Black is a difficult color to see in the night, though, and he didn't see the form until it started to move again.
For a moment he just stood there, scolding himself. That old ghost again, that old ghost that had been following him around for so long. He knew better than to chase it, it would only disappear and leave him panting and cold fingered and even more miserable than ever. The boy's eyes followed it for another moment; something didn't seem quite right about it. The thing that he had been seeing everywhere was cheerful, and this one was decidedly not. In one moment he was unconvinced; in the next he was running towards it, ignoring the threat of glass on the ground, ignoring any inhibitions. "Mamma?!" he cried as he ran, stopping in front of her as he remembered the pain with which she seemed to be walking.
Bending his knees to look up into her face -- boy, had he grown since she had left -- he lifted a hand to her jaw. His breath heaved in his lungs and he didn't speak again, leaving his shimmering brown eyes to do all the talking.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
on the side of the ghost and the King
|
[/html]
[html]
Maria had not expected to see her boy so soon. A boy that was not a boy anymore but nearly full grown and felt like he towered over her. She had frozen in her steps when his scent came around and when she saw the figure not all that far away. Her heart leaped into her throat and she was quick to swallow when it was her boy that was running toward her. The touch of his hand against her jaw made her lower her head in shame but she couldn't hold all of her emotions anymore. Her golden eyes searched his and she tried to find the easiest solution to her problem. How could have have possibly abandoned him for so long? It may not have been entirely her fault but she let it happen. She left the area completely to look around and had gotten into quite a mess.
As if her body depended on it, Maria leaned in and tightly wrapped her arms around him and held him close. Her frail arms squeezed him as much as she could (however, due to her fatigued and hungry body it was not very strong at all). She didn't want to let go of him. She didn't want to let the boy leave her sight in case something were to go wrong again. What if he decided to leave her here? Her efforts in trying to get back to him stomped into the ground but it could not be so. Tears welled up in her eyes and her breathing became heavy, though distant, as she cried into his shoulder.
[/html]
[html]
i fought in the old revolution
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Oh, she was not a ghost, but even as Beppe held her chin he felt like she would pass right through him. His fingers were numb, perhaps, but now he could feel her bones poking against his body, and he wrapped his arms around her as she cried. Even Maria's fingers seemed so skeletal against his shoulder blade, and he mumbled to her, "Mamma, non stai bene..." The boy shuddered a little bit. Perhaps his mother's presence made him more worried. He had no clue what to do with her, and no clue how to find the way back. Wandering would be dangerous -- deadly? -- with her in tow, and he didn't want to risk that. "Rimani qui, per uno momento." The boy knew better than to take her back to Clouded Tears tonight; the way home would reveal itself in the morning.
Prying her fingers off his shoulder, he rested them once more against the wall before turning around to go inside the building. Surely there were chairs or something inside.
Sure enough, there were. There were flimsy little wire and plastic ones in one corner, but Beppe took a moment to look for something better, and was rewarded for it. Behind a curved desk there were chairs that were stuffed with cotton or something like that, the boy wasn't in the mood to guess. Lifting himself onto the surface and swivelling his legs to the other side, he braced himself before lifting up a chair by its arm rests and hauling it over the desk, placing it on the floor on the other side. After hopping off he pushed the chair out through the door and carried it over the rough sidewalk to his mother.
"Siediti," he said gently, rolling the chair close to her.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
on the side of the ghost and the King
|
[/html]
[html]
To hear his voice was hearing angels sing. He spoke words that she knew well and had not heard in so long. Her native tongue had not been used much in her absence. His second statement scared her which made her cling even more but he managed to get away. Her golden eyes watched him as she dropped her hand from the wall and just stood there. Maria hoped he would not disappear from her as he fell into the darkness of the building. She heard movement inside and remained outside, standing and bringing her hands to the top of her muzzle and pushing back tears into her fur.
The girl looked up at him as he brought out a chair and it took her a moment to follow his order. She just wanted to hold her boy again, like a baby he used to be, but she knew she could not. She finally sat down, her thin fingers gripping the chair as she did so. Before she spoke, her hand reached up to touch his soft fur. Not wanting to let his touch disappear from her own in case he were somehow an illusion, she left it there. "Sono spiacente. Sono così spiacente, il mio bambino," was all she could manage to say.
[/html]
[html]
i fought in the old revolution
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Beppe was going through the motions robotically, and after he delivered the chair he merely stood in front of his mother with all his thoughts stuck as if they were all trying to get out the door at the same time. He had lasted this whole time without his mother, ended his childhood without her, and now she was the one that needed his help. There was a twinge of some ugly feeling deep in his gut, a spiteful, jealous feeling. Deep down he resented the fact that the tables had already turned. She was supposed to care for him until she was so old she could not anymore, but already he was the one carrying her weight in his hands.
"Sará bene," he said softly in response to her hand in his fur. He held his hands together in front of him, digging his claws into his palms. The boy was making a large effort just to keep himself from crying, from yelling, from doing something that would upset his mother. All these days he had been wishing for his mother to come back, but did he miss Maria or did he miss love, attention, being fed? He was realizing right now that he didn't know his mother much as an actual soul, rather than just a source of life. The wolf's claws were clenching so hard he might make himself bleed, but he could not unfurl them. He had recognised the spite in his belly and all he could do was scold himself for it. Egoista, egoista, egoista.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
on the side of the ghost and the King
|
[/html]
[html]
Maria was afraid to look up and see his expression but she had to. Her golden eyes watched him and she hated herself. She had missed so much. She cursed herself for exploring that one day and even cursed herself for coming back and facing this. "Non ho partito apposta," she said and dropped her eyes. Her hand reached up and tried to grasp his, to hold it. "Ho inteso vedere ciò che era fuori lí ma sono caduto e ho rotto la mia gamba," she explained and put a hand on her left leg. It was smaller than the other one, it seemed, from the break. Even touching it was sensitive and walking this far was making it throb. Sitting down was good for her, despite how much she wanted to hold him instead of him holding her.
"Non potevo muovere. Ha doluto così molto. Un pacco me ha trovato e me hanno aiutato e ha corretto la mia gamba," she added on and brought her head back up to look at him. "Ho voluto ritornare ma non me lascerebbero o è venuto anche con me la trovare," she said and leaned forward in her seat. "Me hanno detto non dovrei aver lasciato quando ho fatto, ma sono dovuto," she paused, taking a breath. Her free hand reached up and pushed tears back into her fur, trying to stop herself. "Ho avuto per trovarla," she finished, her voice soft.
[/html]
[html]
i fought in the old revolution
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
The stars were still struggling to puncture their little holes through the smog in the city's sky, and Beppe left his eyes there for a moment before bringing them back down to his mother's. He didn't wanter her to talk anymore; he didn't think he would be able to hold back sobs, and he certainly didn't want to do that in front of his mother. He clenched his stomach and let his mother take his hand, eyes moving back up to the stars. Beppe would keep his mother's story in mind but would not pester her about it now. "É bene," he started, squeezing her hand gently, "Sei a casa."
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
on the side of the ghost and the King
|
[/html]
[html]
She took a deep breath as he squeezed her hand and she returned the squeeze. She brought it close to her body. "Non voglio mai partirla ancora," she said as he stepped away to sit against the wall. Her body turned in the chair slowly, careful with her leg, and looked at him. Her son was beautiful and she couldn't believe she had missed so much. Swallowing hard, she felt the chair spin a little and her hand dripped the arm when she realized it was supposed to. Her eyes looked down into her lap for a moment. He did not speak much and she didn't know how to handle it. "Lei è arrabbiato?" she asked, her voice quiet, afraid of his answer.
[/html]
[html]
i fought in the old revolution
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Beppe allowed his mother to clutch his hand, feeling a great fondness but also awkward, unsure of what to do. It was going to be a long night, and he was tired; she was probably half-delusional, for heaven's sake. In his sleepiness he was not interested in making conversation, and he didn't want Maria to get worked up, say too much and then upset herself.
"Lo so," he said quietly, letting his eyes rest on his folded knees. Hopefully the morning would come soon and he could take her back to the territory and find someone who might be able to put her leg back in place, if it needed it. Perhaps the wolves that had helped her had done that; either way, she needed some sort of medical help.
The boy was just about to open his mouth when she spoke again. "No," he replied, hating the situation, hating that she had to ask. This was not something that the quiet boy wanted to deal with at the moment, in any moment. "Dormiresti."
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
on the side of the ghost and the King
|
[/html]
[html]
The girl knew she needed rest. She was tired from walking and her leg was not helping her. It was already set but walking on it for so long was not helping. It was silly of her to leave so soon because she had to come back. She offered to have someone come with her but no one would. Cringing as her leg throbbed, she put a hand down on the top of her thigh and squeezed. "Lo so," she said and looked into her lap. "Dove?" she asked, looking up again. They were in a city that had many houses and buildings and back in Italy, it was something she was used to. However, this city was destroyed and yet rebuilt and she didn't know how safe it was.
[/html]
[html]
i fought in the old revolution
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
The world had stopped spinning. This, perhaps, was the only explanation. Night still hung over them like a heavy blanket, and the sun didn't seem to be coming up anytime soon. The darkness was eternal.
"Mm," the boy murmured in response, not knowing where he could let his mother sleep. He was getting a little sleepy as well. "Resisti strenuamente," he said at length, standing up. Carefully, he turned his mother around in the swivel chair and started to push her along the sidewalk, trying to avoid the rough patches. Maybe there would be a cafe or something along here that had comfy chairs. "Se vedi un posto bene, dimme."
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
on the side of the ghost and the King
|
[/html]
[html]
Beppe began to move her and her head tilted to look up at him. She gripped her hands in her lap and picked up her feet slightly so they did not get caught beneath them. Looking up as she was instructed to let him know of anything that would work, her eyes scanned the area as best she could. Being so dark did not help but there was something not too far from them. She couldn't read the broken sign but there were several doors, some open, and remembered the buildings in Italy that looked like this. "Questo, qui," she asked, lifting a hand and pointed toward the motel.
[/html]
[html]
i fought in the old revolution
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
A smile flitted across Beppe's face as his mother pointed out a crumbling little building. He wasn't exactly sure where the smile came from, or what it meant, but it was there and perhaps that was all that really mattered. The idea of the whole situation, him rolling his injured mother along on some wheeled human chair contraption seemed rather comical. That moment of levity was over quickly, though, and he stifled the smile by biting his lip.
"Va bene," he said quietly, and leaned over to prop the door open and pull her in. The inside was musty and quite disgusting, the floral wallpaper peeling and revealing a sticky brown mess underneath. The boy pushed his mother down the hallway, stopping at the first door and nudging it open. There were beds in there, much wider and elaborately made than the ones he had become familiar with on the ship. The boy had never slept in one.
He rolled the chair up to the edge of the bed and lifted his mother up, carefully resting her on the bed. "Dorma," he said quietly, and walked across the room to rest in a plush chair with arms. He was ready to have a nap, and hoped his mother would fall asleep quickly. Tomorrow would be a bit of a struggle trying to get her back, and it would be best that they got some good sleep.
Eyes drooping, the boy waited to see his mother drift off into a relaxed sleep before letting his own mind wander away.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
on the side of the ghost and the King
|
[/html]
|
