Post by RUBY on Mar 3, 2013 11:28:05 GMT -5
Some days are good, some are bad.
It's hard to tell when you wake up in the morning. You don't know what kind of day it will be, and that can be quite confusing on occasion. You can't say what's going to happen. Maybe you'll find a dollar on the street, maybe the weather will be nice. But you never know if there's going to be more death today. Sometimes death is taken literally, and sometimes it isn't. Death can be the passing of actual souls and people, but there's the occasional bad day where death is the loss of hope, the empty stomach, the crawling hunger, that eats the optimism out of the many people living in Hoenn.
Maybe other people knew that this was destined to be a bad morning, but Ruby neglected the thought that came into his head. It wasn't because he was ignorant, no, Ruby paid attention to happenings and days, and it often seemed like a day would be bad, but it turned out good. it was the lack of noticing how exactly the day began. That was quite a funny thought. Ruby had always observed a day in it's middle, noticing how the clouds spun above the tree tops, or how the beggars got their daily money to feed themselves rice and water. He was even observant of the day towards it's end, watching the sun set and glancing out the window as people left the streets and returned to their half-starved families. But he had never been observant of the day in it's beginning. Ruby didn't know how days started.
He supposed the sun just rose out of the ocean, but it didn't quite seem enough to make a difference. What was the distinguishing point? When did the days really change? Where did today start? Where did yesterday end? Much to Ruby's surprise, he didn't know. Because this was the first time he had ever really observed the morning. Looked at it, studied it. Befriended it. But something felt off at this time, maybe it was this new idea of watching the morning occur. It didn't feel right. The morning twisted his stomach and stung his nose. Maybe the morning wasn't meant to be observed at all. Because maybe it's the suspense of what's going to happen that keeps Ruby waking up every morning. Maybe it's the guessing game that was played that distinguished the days.
Because who's to say that the night isn't just when the sun goes to sleep? That doesn't mean the day's over. It just means the sun's resting. The sun acts like a child, beaming, smiling brightly and shedding light on everyone's day. Because just a little smile is beautiful, especially in these times. And the sun is the only one smiling at this point, so it must get tired. Children take naps.
Ink, paper, desk. That's what he needs to do right now, he needs someone to speak to, and Ruby nows just the person. His arm quivers, dragging ink across the page and writing carefully out a few words, before continuing slowly. And he writes to her again, forbidden words for forbidden friends. And he signs it, eyes glowing, with a heavy John. She'll know. She always does. And Curly will fly it like always. This is a pattern, it's been repeated over and over until his hands are spotted with ink in different colors. She'll reply like always, and Ruby will sit at the desk again. Not because he wants to. It's dangerous and they could both be caught and killed even. He doesn't want that. He doesn't write because he wants to. He writes because he loves her.
She's his best friend, his sister, a waitress, a champion, a winner, and in the end, she was a piece of him. Forever strewn across the thoughts of Ruby's mind, dancing, running, spinning, playing. Just like kids. And they still are kids, but this is a game of adults. Ruby knows he can't last long in this game. Someone's going to shoot him down sooner or later. But he's confident in her because she's always been tough. Wild, she runs with the wind and Ruby will never really be able to hold on to her. She's too strong and free. These letters are the only piece of her he has left, because people have taken her away, sheltered her, stolen her.
Perhaps she was never his at all. Ruby knows that's probably true. She is free to do what she wants to do. And her judgement has always been correct before, but she made a mistake. It's Ruby's job to fix it. He needs to be there for her, loyal to the bitter, rotting end. He's promised that before, and he never breaks his promises. Especially when they involve Sapphire.
The cold morning is heating up slightly, but Ruby's skin is still reptilian with goose bumps. Curly has left, letter curled up and tied to her firmly, so she doesn't lose it. The cycle begins again, a new letter ready for reading. Ruby can't be sure she'll read it. But he's sure she wants to. And with that thought, Ruby really wakes up, starts to brew coffee and make what food he has left. He puts the mug down as crawls under his bed to grab a book. It's the only book he has left, and Ruby's read it seven times. Literature never fails him though, and soon he is placed deeply within the old, philosophical words. Unlike his letters, the words are carefully written in books. Revised, edited. And even though he's read it before, the suspense gives him the exact same feeling as before.
Had Ruby been listening to the radio, he would've known by now.
Across Hoenn, an Altaria is flapping furiously as she reaches a familiar, small town, flooded with soldiers. She glides down to the trees and perches, scanning the surroundings with a small squawk. No one's around, only the blood-stained forest floor. Altaria isn't surprised to see blood, as there's always blood stains on the ground here. The small town has turned into a place of sin and death, a prison for the dear Lux champion. But the bird looks again, slightly surprised. Eyes widen as the cloud-like wings bring her to a lower branch. This blood is fresh. It certainly smells that way, at least. And although there's little left, the Altaria pecks a small clump of hair from a twisted branch, broken and hanging off the tree.
The sun guides Curly home now, leading a path of light and rainbows for the bird to tread and rest on, as she speedily dashes back to the tree houses.
Chapter XII: The Princess. Ruby's read a quarter of the book by now, a thought that's quite surprising to him as he notices. It's been four hours, and afternoon has come and blessed Fortree with a glowingly warm day. Curly shall be returning soon with a letter from his princess, trapped in hertowntower with the evilsoldiersdragon. He couldn't save her yet. This battle continued further, and there were no ways to keep her alive and get her out of Littleroot. That's all he wanted. There wasn't a desperate need to be breathing for Ruby anymore, he just wanted her out, and out now. Out of Lux's grasp, away from the evil that was about to come to her. She'd be overwhelmed with battle. It was the sad, inevitable fate of the wild one. She was heading towards death, instead of letting Ruby carry her away from it.
A cloud comes to the window now, breathy and exhausted as she perches on the flowerpots. A letter is tied to her ankle, a blank envelope. And as Ruby eagerly rips the paper open, he sees his very own words stare back at him tauntingly. Disregard the letter. His thoughts tell him, and Ruby follows blankly, rushing back over to the bird. "Did you see her?" Empty, monotone and lifeless. A question full of nothing, as the bird chirps quietly and shakes it's head, still panting from the vigorous flight. "What did you see?" A question, the same tone as before, except this time, desperate. Ruby is desperate to know. Sapphire always replied, she always did. Even if it took a day, Curly always came back with something.
Curly did come back with something. A clump of hair in her beak is revealed to Ruby now. Brown hair, the kind that billows in the wind and gets in the girl's face and makes her look even more beautiful. But it's not on her head anymore. It's in Ruby's hand. And he recognizes it. No emotion is shown, just another thought ringing out in his head. Disregard the hair. And then he looks back to his Altaria. Her leg is outstretched and red with crusty maroon blood. "Who's is it?" A small reply came from Ruby, his voice cracking as he examined the blood. The messenger says nothing,.
What can he disregard now? There's nothing left to fight it. A girl is dead. Let her be happy, let her be happy, let her be happy Thoughts overflowing out of Ruby along with the saltwater, dripping down his face. The chair is beside him, but he does not sit. Instead the boy takes off the hat and sets it down on the table. She's gone with the wind, just like he predicted. And Ruby's been left behind, with no piece of her to hold on to. Nothing of her's to cling to. She's wiped out of existence, and lives only in his mind now. Dancing, running, spinning playing.
"Just like kids? The bird calls to John, asking a question.
"Just like kids." Are the words that reply, broken up with heavy, inhales, broken up into weird patterns. Crying is exhausting. Sapphire's shed enough tears for her life, and Ruby knows resting is good for her. She found a way out. Hopefully he'll join her soon.
For Sapphire, he'd give the sun; a hundred times over.
