Topic: Don't shoot the messenger, please.

Rekah Illyriana

Date: 2009-06-14 16:06 EST
Normally, it didn't take long to get to the West End from the Inn but this was Rekah and she was easily distracted.

This time it happened to be a shop full of watches and clocks. She was mesmerized by the pendulum of the grandfather clocks that lined the shop window. Back and forth they swung, back and forth she swayed.

We need more of those!

It was then that she decided to buy a clock on her way back home. Nevermind, the thing weighed about twice her. Dante seemed antsy and nosed her hand as if trying to get her to hurry towards Fio's loft.

Fine, fine. We're going, puppy! The hound's tail wagged and he trotted along side her. She had only been to the loft a handful of times, so she knew the basic direction, and knew what to look for. And once she had been set on the right trail she found the place easily.

All right, Dante we are not allowed to disturb Mister Ali.

Quiet as a mouse, like she promised, she slid the letter under the door. Straightening to leave she was struck with an idea. Pulling out a button and a piece of thread. She threaded the button and tied it off. Then tied the thread to the door knob. So that the button hung freely and moved with the slightest breeze. Dante was watching her quizzically.
Seeing the dog's expression she was forced to explain.

Okay, that is so Mister Ali knows it was me who dropped of the letter and that it can be trusted!

The task completed. Rekah turned and bounded off towards the docks and in turn the water. She was taking Dante swimming!
The hound silently padded along behind her with no idea what was in store.

Michael Maleficio

Date: 2009-06-21 11:12 EST
?In every deed of mischief, he had a heart to resolve, a head to contrive, and a hand to execute.? ~ Edward Gibbon

The old man stood on the stoop of the dilapidated brick and mortar building, sweeping refuse from the steps and muttering under his breath. Shabby and hunched, he might be eighty, he might be eight hundred. No matter his age, it was clear from his appearance and his dwellings that he was one of those who late in years fell upon hard times; and whilst he was unable to recover, his pride drew him out every day to erase the outrages committed on the property by passersby and gang members the night before. And so he swept and muttered and another day went by. It was not, perhaps, the circle of life made manifest, but it was certainly a circle.

So it was that he was on the steps with his broom when the girl and the dog turned the corner and skipped along to the building next door. As she came along the street, the little chatterbox maundered on and on about what sounded like clocks, the dog wagging encouragement with each mincing step beside her. He stopped his sweeping, shaded his eyes, and watched them climb the stairs to the top landing.

?All right, Dante, we are not allowed to disturb Mister Ali,? she said as they trotted up the first few steps.

Mischief. He could always smell the potential for it. He watched, and strained his old ears to listen. She fussed about on the upper landing with something for a few moments, and then he heard her voice carry clear and cheerful back down to him from the heights.

?Okay, that is so Mister Ali knows it was me who dropped of the letter and that it can be trusted!?

Interesting. He waited until both of her feet hit the sidewalk again. They landed on a crack. Pity. As she started to run off toward the docks with the dog, he raised his frail voice in a shout and called after her, ?Oy! Girlie!? Want some candy? Blue eyes set deep in a weathered and creased face glittered after her, eager for a response. ?What?s your name??

Rekah Illyriana

Date: 2009-06-22 00:38 EST
She had one of those put the brakes on, stand really still and slowly turn around moments. Head tilting to the side as she caught sight of her summoner. He seemed harmless enough. But, she didn't move any closer to the elderly gentleman. She had been given a set of rules to follow. Now, it would seem that she was probably going to break at least one of them. Shifting her weight from one foot to the other, she didn't like to sit still for too long. And, she really wanted to go swimming. But, she did not want to be rude. It was all very trying.

Besides, Dante was sitting besides her with his tongue lolling out the side of his mouth. She patted the top of his head which was the button for tail wagging. Dante didn't seem too upset, so she took her cues from the hound.

A happy wave to the fellow.

"Hello, hullo, hallo!" She remained in the same concrete square, not so motionless. A little jig of a dance followed (which was normal for her.) Vast amounts of energy can not be contained. Rekah was the poster child for perpetual motion.

"I'm Rekah.. Who're you? Why are you here? Do you like cupcakes?"The litany of questions was done without a breath. No, that was taken at the end with a gasp and her ever present grin.

Michael Maleficio

Date: 2009-06-23 09:03 EST
"The Candy Man makes everything he bakes satisfying and delicious,
Talk about your childhood wishes, you can even eat the dishes." ~ Candyman, Sammy Davis Jr.

"I'm Rekah.. Who're you? Why are you here? Do you like cupcakes?"

The smile inside grew long as a Sunday afternoon shadow. She was sweet. He loved cupcakes. He liked to lick the frosting off and then devour them, bite by delicious bite, until there was nothing left but the wrapper to be thrown away. Rekah. Mmm. And she knew his new neighbors. A cupcake with sprinkles on top.

None of these thoughts registered on his outward expression. He peered at her through ancient blue eyes and set the broom aside to cup a hand to his ear. When he did, the handle slipped on the railing and the broom clattered to the bottom of the steps. His face twisted into a look of dismay.

"I'm afraid I couldn't hear you, dear," he called in his quavery, aged, voice. "Could you help me? I can't bend these old bones well enough anymore to pick things up, and I've lost my broom."

Rekah Illyriana

Date: 2009-06-24 16:23 EST
Smiles, for Rekah, were contagious so she smiled to the elderly gentleman. And moved in closer, raising her voice so that he could hear her.

"I am Rekah!! Who are you?! Why are you here? And do you like cupcakes?" Repeating her previous statement then as an afterthought.

"Oh yes, sir! I can help you with your brooming! Sit and stay, Dante." Holding a hand up in a stop motion so that the hound would know she meant business. Tightening the strap on her messenger bag she skipped over to the fallen broom.

"If you drop things at home how do you pick them up?" said as she knelt down to grab the wooden handle which was then held out to the man as she straightened back up with a bounce.

"Here you go, sir."

Michael Maleficio

Date: 2009-06-26 08:28 EST
"Come with me honey, I'm your sweet sugar Candyman.
Run like the wind - fly with me to the Bountyland.
Bite me, I'm yours - if (I'm) hungry, please understand." ~ Candyman, Aqua

"My name is Galt, and this is my home," he answered with a flap of his hand back to the door. "I do like cupcakes, very much, but I don't get them very often." His weathered face was a mass of wrinkles and regret at the general absence of cupcakes.

"If you drop things at home how do you pick them up?" she chirped as she skipped over to the fallen broom. The dog remained on the sidewalk. All the better.

"Oh, it's a sad thing. If I need them badly, I manage, but I hurt for hours afterwards. Sometimes, I just leave them on the floor until some nice young person stops by to help." Mournful, the quaver in his voice.

She knelt down to grab the wooden handle and held it out to him, straightening back up with a bounce. "Here you go, sir."

"Oh, child," he accepted the broom with another wizened smile. "You're an angel." He leaned the broom against the side of the doorframe, thoughtfully. "I don't suppose - but, no, you're busy. Still - I don't suppose you would mind coming in for just a moment and helping me reach a couple of things that I haven't been able to pick up there?"

His blue eyes focused on her so plaintively. How could she refuse? "I can replay you for your kindness with chocolate stars. I don't have any cupcakes, sadly. And you can tell me about my new neighbors while you eat." He glanced to the upper floor of the building next door. "I've heard them, but have never met them."

Madison Rye

Date: 2009-06-26 08:57 EST
This route through town was always a short cut to take her back to Zeal's. Or away. With her first shift done she made her mosey through the warren of streets, taking her time, listening and watching. It was usually on this very section of the street that her steps would slow and she would smile, at the sounds out of place, unnamed calls - of clucking roosters, of wooden or plastic chimes rattling their notes like hollow bones, of the smooth wave of plants that mimicked the shore and the sea meeting at night just outside a window...

But this time around she saw a sight she couldn't help but linger for. There, beside the apartment that stole her attention, was an elderly man in conversation with a young girl. A sight that had her double take as she went striding by. Now Madison didn't go getting suspicious on everyone, no, she was aware but not paranoid. However, gut feelings were always tested their weight with the 'slinger, and they were on overdrive as boots kicked stone in the slowing of her pace to throw long leg over long leg to rest against a street lamp. Her flask was taken out, her eyes pulled away as she feigned a thirsty, lethargic pose. But well conscious of this unlikely duo that gave her the heebee jeebees and then some.

With them in her peripheral, she gazed down the street, relishing that moonshine, but not the nagging feeling that kept her feet where they were, glued to that spot. No, something wasn't ok here.


It was easy to chalk it up to her recent involvement with kids who had been mistreated, to start seeing her work pop up when away from it, but it was also very, very simple to walk away, and after what she'd learnt of late, she couldn't. So she lurked a little longer, sipping and glancing.

FioHelston

Date: 2009-06-28 09:26 EST
Dante was a good dog. She had said "Sit." She had said "Stay."

He sat.

He stayed.

He planted himself on the sidewalk and watched her as she skipped up to the man and gave him back his big stick. He understood the conversation, mostly. He knew chocolate and he knew stars. He'd never seen stars that looked like chocolate, though. There had to be a trick.

This one felt tricksy. The lady by the lamp post smelled it, too. He could tell. The magic prickled around the old man like something that would bite and burn if he touched it. Dante's back rippled beneath his short, brindled fur with just the thought of it.

Nerves made him lift his butt off the hot sidewalk, shuffle his feet anxiously. Come back, he said, his tongue lolling post-bark. He swung his tail side to side as fast as he could with the wanting of it.

But he was a good dog. She had said "Sit." She had said "Stay."

Rekah Illyriana

Date: 2009-06-30 15:47 EST
"Hallo, Mister Galt. I'm sorry you have a lot of trouble picking things up. Maybe you should try picking them up with your toes. That's what I do if I don't want to bend over to get something." She said hopping from one foot to the other in typical Rekah fashion.

Then the man asked if she would come inside to help him. He looked so serious. However, at the same time she could also imagine a few disapproving faces if she did go in. Mister Ali, Miss Fio, Best Friend Sal, just to name a few. But, it was to help someone! How could anyone be mad at her for offering to help!?

"I don't know what chocolate stars are? Are they just chocolate in the shape of a star or are they more special? And can I bring my puppy. He has to come with me. I will get into much trouble if I leave him here."

A quick look back to the now agitated Dante. She waved happily to the hound and turned to face the wizened old man. And another barrage of statements and questions.

"How come you don't get cupcakes? And why only chocolate stars? If I eat a lot of chocolate it makes me sleepy. Do you get sleepy when you eat a lot of chocolate?"

It was highly unlikely she would have seen the woman by the lamp post. She did keep an eye on Dante, and motioned him to come along not even bothering to await the man's reply about whether or not the dog could come along. Rekah tended to jump the gun a lot of times. And this was no exception.