She reared her head slowly up toward the orange hues dancing between the clouds, the hollow leather steps of Marlow echoing into a gradual halt as he hastened toward the crooked building. As his footsteps merged into the dull commotion of the area, the dented (and also somewhat crooked) shop bell, rang out clearly amongst the monotonous droning of the Old quarter. Watching the sky, her eyes glazed over with an eternal melancholy, she smiled slightly at the seagulls crying and overpassing them, without the whimsy of either world below or above. Her pupils dilating, should said birds have looked down, it'd appear they were swimming in the reflected black abyss, concealed beneath her lashes. She wasn't one to wish the world away, despite all the she might have said to people. If there was no world, there would be nothing to live upon, if taken literally. No, she disliked the idea of a world without people in, of all ethnic and racial backgrounds, more than she did the idea of a world without them. It was too lonely a concept to endure.
Her contemplation was once again distracted by the gentle tones of Flick's voice, ever fast paced and fluttery. Lux's eyes scaled toward her fondly, her lips curved in the corners as she looked upon her. She was much like the moth captured. Despite the circumstances, she never once submitted to the brutal forces of fate; weighing down upon her and thinning the air, making it uncomfortable to endure. Lifting the jar to be in clear view between the two of them she tapped it with her index finger: ''Insects often fascinate me. They show extraordinary resilience to the forces of negativity and the downplay of fate. I mean, as to say it were you and I to be trapped in there.'' She tapped it once again, raising the crookedly formed glass to her eyes, which in turn distorted them also. ''I should like to think it an unpleasant experience and yet, a rewarding one. Your emotional hide becomes tougher with the amount of pessimistic out-turns endured.''
Lux often spoke clearly and in rhythms of philosophy, when talking aloud to herself. Subconsciously, she was well formed; more so than expected of a kelvic of her stature albeit. Her tone snapped weakly upon her contemplation shattering. She looked softly upon Flick and stuttered: ''L-Lux is indeed my name, Madam. I've always been called it, and I refused to be auctioned or i-inherited by any other such name. Alas, my surname is long lost and forgotten. I've means of finding it.'' She pondered over the whereabouts and conditions her father was currently facing, or indeed in grim (though likely) perspectives, he faced. She paused momentarily, running her fingernail about the circular rims of the jar, scraping them slowly and listening intently to the low hum. Those of high calibre hearing, and of nocturnal origins particularly, were known of the few to hear it. It soothed her into a hypnotic, melancholic state of ease as she spoke: ''Lux means Light.''
She looked up toward Flick and tilted her head softly while another curiosity arose to her attention: ''Is Flick your birth name?'' she paused slightly. It was a fitting name, in the nature she held. Fast and attentive. To the point. Blunt and yet somewhat misleading in true intention. This was not a negative thing, by all means Lux found it to add another layer to her persona. She ran her index finger over the songbirds head, smiling as it bobbed to the weight of it. She'd noticed it shiver up and broaden it's body with it's feathers, as a singular drop of water planted to its head, from a near by cracked gutter. Having mistaken it for rain, it sheltered into her neck with a weak, somewhat grumpy, chirp. All the while, Lux's eyes remained focused on her companion, her subconsciousness attending to the needs of the little bird.
The bird's name was Iko, and was generally good natured unless addressed with the things he disliked (rare as they were). These things were: Rain water, loud noises, over-sized nuts (or anything too big to eat), cats, dogs, snakes, seagulls and a majority of other inquisitive animals. Iko was noted to preen himself at moments of stress, expand at moments of irritation, anger or in a protective state, and was noted to sneeze when over-worked. A strange concept indeed. A sneezing bird. Alas, it was one of many strange traits he possessed. At this precise moment, he was puffed up and nestled beneath Lux's mass of hair, agitated by the cold droplet. Grumpy, he separated two little segments of feathers, and flapped them wildly after Marlow, quickly enough to enter the building as another gentleman wandered in, clanking the bell with a less-musical approach. Coiling about the ceiling of the building, he located the gentleman and settled on his shoulder, fluffed up, shivering and damp.
Lux stood smiling to herself at Iko's irregular behaviour, still attentive to the answer that Flick might give. She lifted her hand softly to coil her hair behind one ear as she patiently waited, all the while smiling in a somewhat eery disposition. |
