literature

Puck and Peri

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Ambidextrous- When you've lived as long as Robin, you get better at things. Fighting, lying, waiting... it all gets easier. However, for Robin, there are just some things that he can never improve, no matter how much he tries. His penmanship is one of those things. He was originally left-handed, and although he can stab and shoot things either way just fine, he still uses his left hand for writing. Whichever hand he uses, though, his penmanship is awful, and Ishiah often remarks that it's the absolute worst he's ever seen.

Blurred- Ishiah doesn't much like paintings. Artists tend to bend the things they paint too much to their own liking for the finished product to be pure and real. He'd rather remember things exactly as they are, and cameras do that perfectly. He loves cameras, because they preserve precious memories so completely, but... cameras hate him. Whenever he tries to take a picture, it comes out terribly, and this always rather upsets him, because it makes him wonder if maybe someone's not trying to tell him something. After a good while of watching him struggle with the camera and trying not to laugh, Robin will always offer to do it for him. Ishiah never lets him.

Cigarettes- Robin hates it when Ishiah smokes. "You should know better, you damnable pigeon. Those wretched cancer sticks never did anyone any good." He thinks that someone who looks so much like an angel shouldn't smell so much like an ashtray, but Ishiah doesn't seem to care. It's not as if the smoke will have any truly unhealthy effects on the peri, and he doesn't do it that often, but still. It makes him taste like an ashtray sometimes, too, which annoys Robin a lot more than he likes to admit. He may hate it when Ishiah smokes, may hate the taste it leaves, but that doesn't stop the puck from kissing him every single chance he gets.

Dark- "C'mon, Ishiah! Why so unappreciative? I got you chocolate! I know you love chocolate, you feathery bastard. It's Easter, anyways! Lighten up."
Ishiah sighs and rubs his temples in an attempt to lessen the headache he just knows is coming on.
"Yes, Robin. I do indeed like chocolate, but only when it's the dark stuff; milk chocolate tastes like year-old dog food, if you're lucky."
Robin wonders faintly how that's even possible, as he doesn't ever recall seeing cocoa as an ingredient on a label for a can of dog food, and he's fairly sure that canines don't take well to chocolate. He also wonders how he never noticed Ishiah's favorite kind of sweet, but dismisses the thought after a moment of guilty consideration. There's always next year.

Envy- Robin envies human, envies their mortality and their fire. They die so fast that it's no wonder their lives are so bright. They love, they laugh, they learn... all that shit, and then they die. And when they die, more often than not, they leave him behind to mourn. It saddens him, sometimes, because he can't help but think that most of those humans deserve someone better than him to remember them. Immortal companions are so much more convenient, he informs Ishiah breezily, because at least you can count on them not to drop spontaneously stone dead on you. Ishiah whacks him irritably and tells him he's being callous, but secretly, he agrees.

Faith- The Israelites come across Ishiah one hot, dusty day in the desert. They see him soaring effortlessly over the sands, and they stop. Slowly, one by one, they drop to their knees, whispering to themselves, "Malach. Malach! Malach Adonai!" Ishiah sees them kneeling, and his initial reaction is one of alarm, because now he's been seen, and they think he's an angel. He hovers uncertainly for awhile, but he descends eventually, because it's been quite a while since he's seen any humans, and, truth be told, he's a bit lonely. The Israelites stand in awe of him, because, after all, he's an angel. Then, after a long silence, a tiny child, no more than five years of age, reaches out and picks up one of the feathers that drifted to the ground when he landed in front of them. The humans hold their breath and try not to gasp, and the child's mother whimpers. However, when no flaming sword appears to strike, they grow bolder. They've been wavering in their faith for a while, beaten weary by the harshness of the sun and sand, and now they're desperate for some touch of holiness. Soon they're grabbing at his wings, pleading for his feathers. He's trying not to run, not to hurt them, and he tells them to stop, please, stop, and the Israelites are fleeing now, afraid that they've made the angel angry. It happened so fast, and there were so many of them... he could have killed them, but he's not a monster. He's not a monster. He trudges onward, trailing feathers and blood from his wings and wondering just how far this cursed desert goes on, until he sees a figure in the distance, a figure with red-brown hair and green-gold eyes and one hell of an attitude.
"My, my. What happened to you, peri? You look like some sort of avian sacrifice."
Robin never was one for tactful sympathy.

Guilt- "Does it ever worry you, being one of the last of your kind?" Ishiah asks Robin searchingly. "Knowing that so few are left? Knowing that quite a few of those that died were killed because of you?"
Robin gives Ishiah a disbelieving glare and demands, "Really, peri. What right do you have to ask me that?"
"Oh, just answer. How long have I known you? Need I remind you of the exact number of centuries?"
Robin scowls and shakes his head, defeated. "Very well. No, it doesn't worry me; as long as there's at least one of us left, the race can still reproduce, so no problem there. And yes, you annoying creature, I do feel guilty, which was what you were really asking, wasn't it?" Green eyes flash an irritable emerald, then soften into something like self-reflection as he adds, "Truly. I'm not proud of what happened." Ishiah nods and gives a smile that's almost invisible if you don't know what to look for, and the issue is forgotten.

Hardest- "Mmm... go back to sleep, 'shiah... 's too early..."
"Well, what time would you consider to be acceptable?"
Robin mumbles sleepily, "How about... never?" Getting up is always the hardest part of the day.
"My point exactly. I swear, Goodfellow, you have laziness down to a science. Now get up.
"Vlaka... as to diavlo, touvlo peri."
"Swearing at me won't change things, Robin. Get up."
"No. It's way too early."
"It's ten o'clock!"
"And?"
"Oh, forget it." The bastard always gets his way; what's the point of fighting? Ishiah sighs, Robin smirks and drifts off again, and both of them try not to think about how divine the other looks when they're sleeping.

Innocent- When things get too stressful, or when daily life just gets to be too much, Ishiah goes someplace green and wild and innocent with lots of animals. He used to go to pet shops, just to see the birds, but it would make him more angry and disgusted than he already was, seeing all those cages. Ishiah hates cages, hates them far beyond anything words can capture, and seeing a bird, of all things- a creature with wings- trapped in one always made him sick. So he goes places where nature is free and untouched. However, despite his love of natural things, he finds that sometimes solace can also be found in a dark, crowded bar in the middle of New York... just so long as Caliban doesn't take to melting patrons again.

Jagged- It's almost dark when Robin sets out for the forest. He knows why Ishiah went there, but not when. He brings his sword, hoping he won't need it, but he's not naive. He knows he will. It takes him a while to get there, but what he sees lying on the damp ground almost makes him wish it had taken even longer. There it is, the proof he needs, and he doesn't want to see it. A single feather, streaked with blood. His breath catches, and cursing, he turns toward the forest. A rustling in the trees makes him turn sharply towards it's source, and standing there, just like the villain in some ancient horror movie, is a creature whose ilk he had hoped never to see again. "Auphe," he snarls, crouching and drawing his sword. The monster doesn't seem overly concerned by him; in fact it seems almost to be enjoying itself. It gives a gloating laugh and holds up long, bony fingers covered in blood for closer inspection. "Looking for your white-winged companion? I'm afraid he isn't here. He fought too hard." Eyes burning with rage, Robin brings his weapon up and hisses, "Where is he, you disgusting creature? Where?" The Auphe's only answer is another poisonously gleeful laugh, and it's too much for Robin to take. Soon the Auphe is missing a few vital organs, and Robin's tearing through the quickly darkening forest, looking for Ishiah. He doesn't have far to go; as soon as he starts running, he finds what he's looking for. "Holy... by the gods, peri, what happened?" Ishiah's sitting there, looking miserable, with blood running down his face. His sword lies broken beside him, edges jagged. Jagged just like the wound, etched by foul clawes, on his face. Shattered and broken just like his voice when he speaks. "I thought I could stop it. I should have stopped it. It was killing innocents, Goodfellow! Children, do you understand? I- I had to." He winces and puts a hand to his jaw, feeling the damage. "Why are you here, anyway? I thought I told you to stay away."
Robin turns away for a moment, unbelieving, before saying quietly, "You son of a bitch. I save you, and this is all the thanks I get? You could have been killed, but did that stop you? No, because you're just another would-be martyr. Stop trying to be a hero, Ishiah. It's not fair to the people who care about you." He falls silent, and despite the blood and cold night air, despite the dead Auphe lying not too far away, there's something precious in the moment.
Robin starts to walk away. "Now go clean yourself up, and good luck explaining about your face to everyone else. I won't cover for you."
Far after Robin leaves, Ishiah stays in the forest, alone with himself and his thoughts. "Hero," he whispers bitterly, tracing the soon-to-be scar on his jaw. A reminder, he now knows, to never forget what he is.

Knowledge- When Ishiah takes off in the cold night air, carrying an unconscious Robin, all he can think about is how far away Nushi's office is. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he worries about trivial things, things like maybe he's flying too low, maybe the humans will notice, but mostly he's concerned with the fact that Robin's pouring blood from a bullet hole in his neck. Too far away, too far... Finally he gets there, but he doesn't go through the door. He goes through the open window. Nushi's in his office, sure enough, but he doesn't look exactly happy with his unexpected visitors. "You... what..." He's at a loss, but who can blame him? The healer catches sight of Robin and sputters, "Oh, fates. What happened to him?" Idle words, but even as he speaks, he's working, checking the puck's pulse, inspecting the growing pool of scarlet. "He was shot, as I would have thought to be obvious," Ishiah growls, wings fluttering. "He's bleeding heavily... and if that doesn't change within five minutes, you will be too." Nushi looks up sharply at the threat, but something in Ishiah's eyes makes him look down again. He'll save Robin, if only because he's a healer, and that's what healers do, but it will be hard. "A close friend of yours?" he asks sympathetically, and Ishiah replies cryptically, "You could say that." Later, when no one is in danger of dying, Niko will ask him how Robin is, and he'll say, "The idiot's fine. Tell him that the next time he nearly gets himself killed he can count on me not to save him." Niko will give Cal a knowing glance, and neither of them will wonder when they see the peri's hands shake slightly as he stalks away. In truth, Robin just made it, and that knowledge makes him shiver.
Twenty-six snapshots of Robin and Ishiah, and the adventures and musings thereof. INCOMPLETE; forgive my sloth.
________________________________________ _______

I dunno. This was an idea that I came up with in the middle of History... I'm going to do one little story-thing for each letter of the alphabet. (XD once I get around to actually working on it for real) So, here you are- letters A through F. Feedback is nice... *puppy dog eyes*
© 2009 - 2024 Wistfulhowling
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ferret-assassin-nin's avatar
Aw...I love this piece. It's very nicely written and I believe you've handle the alphabet well. I also love how you kept them in character. You have to love the two of them; they're almost like Cal and Niko. XD