[Flashback] Watermelon Woe (Millie)

by **Wikus** on January 12th, 2016, 8:50 pm

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Wikus offered great attention to the words of his guest, as he himself had a curiosity that devoured him at times. Having spent his life trapped in tents or smelling horse excrements had isolated him from the world he lived. His knowledge of what lied past the Sea of Grass was null, and now that he was so far away from home he felt like a newborn being tossed into the world. To him, listening her speak and even show glimpses of shame was almost a sin. She, a girl from the city, had spent her life safely stuck in one place. Waking up in the same location every day, seeing the same people, the same order and same scenery was a dream come true. There weren’t temporarily properties nor detachable homes, nor graves one could never visit again. Settling in a place was something unique and majestic, and it could only mean strength and confidence for him.

Having taken a seat into one of the few chairs of his home, he slowly munched on his watermelon to both thoroughly enjoy the sweet flavor and not make too much noise that would incapacitate him from following every word the female spoke. Once in a while he nodded, in case the female had doubts if he was following the gist or not. The end came quick for him, not nearly as satisfied from her short tale as he would have liked. With a few doubts of whether to keep shooting queries at her or not, he felt obliged to at least comment something. “Hmmm…” He hummed at first, trying to come up with something. His words were partially blocked as he was suspicious that the female was as vague in words as he was. Words were never his strong trait, only having learned to maintain a conversation these last seasons. “You be okay?”

In a way, he didn’t want to pressure her to speak if she didn’t want it. They weren’t friends nor anything, but merely a host and a guest that happened to begin a conversation one night. It was possible they were never to speak again once the dawn came, and perhaps they were never to even see each other in this life. That same motive however applied to indeed pressure her to speak some more. Dwelling between his options and pondering on the matter, he remained quiet. It was as if the little conversational skills he held had left him or went to sleep, leaving him lacking in any topics, comments, or words to share. He looked down and silently ate his watermelon while he focused his sight on some insignificant details around his cot.

The room was slowly gaining some heat despite the night becoming darker outside the broken walls. The candles slowly burned their remains, as the wood cracked under the heat of the fire. Wikus felt relaxed in the silence, which may perhaps be somewhat awkward for the female. No matter how it was, he enjoyed it. The one thing he feared most is the awkward questions that the female was going to ask him, and despite his actions that night, he despised talking about himself. The past is often too harsh to even remember, yet alone speak. Many times he pretended he was born in his town instead of the land of the horses, impersonating the farmers and their simplistic lives.

Before he drifted completely in his thoughts, however, his mind came up with a question. “What is family like?” He queried somewhat solemn, as he stood up and extended a hand towards Millie in attempts of stealing another slice of the watermelon. One day, if the fortune ever smiled to him, he would buy an entire wagon of watermelons and feed from them exclusively. That promise was to be absolute.

by **Millie** on January 14th, 2016, 11:43 am

The woman caught her breath, and settled back on her makeshift seat, taking another small nibble of a slice of the fruit. It was incredibly delicious, and she once again thought of the generosity of her host. A soft word spoken by said host, and she snapped out of her reverie. "Oh! Yes, I'm okay, thank you."

The soft flicker of the candles and the fire were soothing, and the girl shuffled as far back as she could go, resting her back against the cool wall, relaxing into a softly curved shape with the fur draped over her shoulders. "Oh, my family. Well, my parents are nice. My mother is hard-working and my father isn't." She smiled, thinking about them. "I have a sister called June, but she left home a year ago. I worry about her, but well, she'll be fine. She's a strong girl. And I have a brother, Yey, who's only sixteen. But he dreams of being a Knight, training all the time. Silly child."

There was obvious affection for her family in her voice, and she half-wondered about it, questioning her own reasons for wanting to live seperately to them when she loved them. Feeling a little braver, she spoke some of them out loud. "I guess it might seem strange that I want to move out. But sometimes you just need a change, right?"

She looked around the room, feeling the warmth on her skin and looking over at the fire, into its flickering depths. The night must surely be drawing late now, it had been dark when she'd entered, and she had no clue as to what bell it was anymore. "Hey Wikus, what about you, what's your family like? I suppose you haven't seen them in a long while, huh."

There was a feeling of stillness over her. Stillness and calm, perhaps the first hints of drowsiness. "It would be weird to be so far away from home, I think. But I think I will one day, leave Syliras that is. My sister's younger than me by a couple of years and she managed it, so why can't I? I guess it'll take a lot of strength though, and I don't know where I'd go."

Her half of the conversation trailed off, and she simply awaited a response from the man. She found it hard to judge what was going through his head, and that intrigued her. She was interested by people, what they did and said and how they behaved. She'd never met anyone like Wikus before, so despite anything she was going through personally, she couldn't help but try and analyse a little. It was one of the great reasons why she liked to people-watch, so she could see life in all it's forms.

by **Wikus** on January 14th, 2016, 11:04 pm

Biting on the fruit once more, Wikus rose his eyes and laid his attention on the female. She was still young, very curious and thus immature. She did seems somewhat lost in the world, not in the way that he was but rather in what her objective in life was. Her words were often vague and almost empty of any meaning, cautious at times and very open at others. Often he imagined her life being like a maze she herself had crafted, hiding some details and moments in a corner while offering pieces of information in its core. Wikus followed her story, barely able to imagine how her family was despite her explanation. It did however made him aware that he and his kin were definitely nothing similar to what she explained. Her family seemed jolly and simple, happy and well thought out if that expression was valid. He could imagine their blurry faces with wide smiles and laughter being the soundtrack present in their homes.

“Sometimes change is good, yes. Best if close to family.” He said after she had finished, somewhat dubious on how to react. “One day you go out and you know where you walk, where you go. Even if you lost, I believe. If you keep walk, you reach a place you want to be.” After a couple of big bites on his piece of watermelon, that were unfortunately somewhat loud and perhaps rude, he wiped his beard with his hand and spoke once again. “Family sounds good and happy. Good people.” He couldn’t help but yawn, as the night was all over them and he was usually in his sleep long ago. Working the fields was hard and performed daily, and he had to get up early. He didn’t mind staying up late in exchange of some conversation, especially since Millie offered words that almost hypnotized him. Getting to know the world, even if it was only by vague mentions of her family, was utterly appreciated.

“My family not that good. Very… uhm… cold?” Wikus, although open to share details of this world Millie believed he came from, was at a lack of words. How was he to explain the beatings, the abuse, the fanaticism or their disgusting doings? The slaves, the children, the gratuitous death, the orgies and the ink… It was all too complex to put into words. Plus, whenever he thought of them, he got the hints of remorse trying to invade him once more as he was the one to put an end on said family. Even their names were unknown to him, as all they ever did were share a big tent that bounded them as family. Drykas were truly a disgusting race, and he was proud to have left them behind. “I leave winters ago. They made me leave. I come here and try to be happy now.” It wasn’t much, but he hoped it would suffice. Standing up, he would now openly yawn. With some luck he would be able to avoid further questioning, and maybe she would forget his promise.

Leaving the rind on the table, Wikus would move to the fireplace and toss carelessly some more logs of wood before heading towards the bedroll that lied on top of some stones. A man of his size often struggled to find comfort, even more when he was condemned to live in a place not fit to his needs. “I lay now.” With that said, he would remove his shirt and leave it on the cairn that stood on the feet on his bedroll. As imagined, more ink was revealed on his flesh now that his shirt was gone, the man not removing his pants for courtesy to the female. He did remove his sandals though, and with some effort began climbing his improvised bed. “Don’t come live here. Not many good people here. Other places surely better, believe.”

by **Millie** on January 26th, 2016, 10:45 am

The woman nodded, her chin tucking down a little with tiredness as she nodded. "Yes, they're good people. I like my family." She smiled again, giggling internally at some half-remembered, sleepy memory. Something about a day out. But it didn't really matter, and it was soon forgotten. She pulled her attention to Wikus again, and watched his face openly, very curious and innocent, suddenly more tired than she cared to admit.

A stirring of sympathy woke her a little though, as the man talked about his family, some unreadable tone in his voice. "I'm sorry to hear that." She stretched, her hands out in front of her, and spoke softly. "But I'm glad you try to be happy here. I suppose it's interesting to travel the world and go to new places." Her conversation felt stuck in the mud, to her a least, but the woman yawned at his yawn, discreetly covering her mouth with her hand and then blinking as she turned away slightly, embarrassed though she knew she didn't need to be.

The fresh wood on the fire cackled and spit, and the woman nodded in agreement with the man. The night was drawing in. He was soon lying down, and the woman looked over, as discreetly as she possibly could. She was admiring once again the tattoos which she had been so interested in at the start of this most unusual evening. She was a woman who was alight with curiosity, but a woman whose mind was cloudy with sleep, and whose body was already falling down onto the bed, lying on her side.

"I don't know much about this place. I don't really know much about good people. I don't know if there are any in Syliras itself, anyway. I guess some people are. My family is. But that's all I really know. Anyone else are just... faces. Faces without stories." She settled down a little, as she was uncomfortable due to being so unfamiliar with the situation.

In a half-daze, she continued. "I'm glad we met though. You seem nice, and I'm very, very grateful you lent me your house. Your home. Not everyone would do that. Some people... most people would just leave someone be." She nodded, assertively. "It's nice that you helped. I know you don't, didn't want paying at all. But if there's ever a time that you need something from me, then you'll have it."

by **Wikus** on March 5th, 2016, 11:17 pm

Wikus laid on his back, the pile of stones having already arranged themselves for a proper sleeping positions moons ago, as each night he helped shape his perfect bed with his frame. He listened on the female’s words, taking his time to translate most of it and reasoning the rest afterwards. In a way, it was good to have met her. She, so innocent and young, with so much road to walk ahead, had chosen his company over anyone else’s. He didn’t underestimate himself, not usually, yet he still felt girls like Millie would have chosen someone more decent to share an evening with. She too carried her own burden as much as every other ‘face’ as she had called them that roamed around the streets. Spring was his favorite time of the year for that reason, because the endless slumbers of winter were slowly being removed and a small window opened in the hearts of the population. That window let on a small portion of the soul of an individual unprotected, to be felt and tampered with temporarily. There was no consequence to doing so, only perhaps the connection those two souls could form over the mutual caress of their nature.

This connection they had formed was surely somewhat minuscule in the eyes of the half-asleep woman, yet it meant a great deal for him. The simple pleasure of enjoying an evening, the conversation and the words of somebody else was enough connection for him while it could be seen as insignificant by others. He would have liked to believe he would see her again, that they would speak again and maybe smile to each other again, yet that was not only improbable, but unadvised. The more the connection formed between them, the more he and his ‘condition’ would work on shattering it, just as much as his presence was shattering the peace of the otherwise peaceful settlement. It was always a struggle to be forced to sever these kinds of connections, be it friendship, love or whatever else there was possible in this world. Turning on the side, he’d look towards the interior of his half-demolished home and the few possessions he had left after such a long life. A half battered house that would be demolished next season, a whip and a couple of slices of watermelon. This was no way to live, not after all these years.

“Stay home.” He’d say, shifting a bit in his bedroll. “Nothing good out there. Only pain.” Overall, it had been a good night for him. The sleep was starting to wash over him, for tomorrow he had to rise early and being work in the farms once more. It was tedious to think of the infinite amount of work that was farming. There was never an end to it. Building a house and crafting a weapon were tasks in which there was always an end, in which after all the effort one could stand up and look at what was built with their own hands. In farming, there was never an end or good news. If the crops grew bad, the stomach growled in hunger. If they were good and prosperous, the pockets ached for more wealth. He had grown a dislike for his profession of choice, yet the townsfolk would never allow him to work on anything else due to their prejudice. He was scared of finding himself on the road once more, alone as usual, for people like Millie were always scattered around. These sorts of people were the ones that made him stay. Even if it was for a few words and a couple of watermelon slices.

Not resisting anymore, Wikus fell into the slumber of sleep as the wood cracks were the soundtrack of the upcoming sleep, the winds that filtered behind him were the hand that gently rocked the cradle and the cold of the night was the kiss that let his problems fade away to only return in the morning.

Conclusion :

by **Aladari Coolwater** on August 14th, 2016, 4:44 pm

Again, both of you need to subtract your seasonal expenses from Spring 516 AV. Once you've done so, PM me and I will post your grades.[/spoiler]