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Post by Roger Gale on Apr 27, 2013 10:42:21 GMT -8
[atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=width,480,bTable][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,100][atrb=vAlign,top] ASHES ASHES It was remarkable how ghostly white a person became after death. Roger examined the lifeless body at his feet. The corpse reeked—he had probably been there for two days, at least. As far as his health went, it didn’t look like he had suffered any surface diseases. What it looked like was starvation, or perhaps exposure. The idea of both made Roger wince. The boy’s legs were so thin he wondered how he could have supported his body weight walking on them. Nevertheless, he pinched his nose and rifled through the dead boy’s things. There wasn’t really anything of use, and the boy was smaller than Roger, so he couldn’t even pilfer his boots or clothes. He ended up fishing out a small compass from the boy’s pocket, and he stashed it away quickly. He already had one, in his brain, but it was definitely something that he could trade.
Roger stood up again and felt his gut wrench. This wasn’t the first corpse he had seen within the city—especially not one that had succumbed to a lack of food. He stepped out of the near-demolished building and leaned against the doorway. He hadn’t seen his brother in a while—two weeks, at least. Roger scowled and peeked through the doorway at the dead boy again. He whispered a curse and turned away, suddenly thinking of Tom.
He didn’t know what he was so concerned about. His brother was a smart kid. He knew Tom wasn’t foolish enough to go on without enough food. He could hunt for himself, trade stuff for food, and generally make wise decisions. Roger shook it off and abandoned the corpse entirely, setting out in search of more supplies. The night before, he had overheard something about someone in the outskirts of the city trading hunting knives. Roger had spent the last few hours gathering supplies that could be worth the trade and looking for the trader in question. He had only ever seen one nice hunting knife in his life, and it had belonged to his father. It had many uses, and it was stunning. He hoped this trader had knives that looked like the one he remembered.
Roger tightened the strap of his satchel and set out for the greener part of the city, all the while wondering if he could craft a hunting knife for himself. However, without much forgery knowledge, he supposed it would be a task beyond his skills. He’d have to settle on trading for now. The sun had only just come up a few hours ago, after all--he still had a while to ponder the matter.
Notes: btw, Roger doesn't know about Tom Tagged: dark w/ Tom Words: 419 template by pianissimo of BTN
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Post by Tomlin Oak on Apr 27, 2013 14:53:32 GMT -8
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0px,true][atrb=cellpadding,0px,true][atrb=style, background-image:url('http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lzju29VxIR1r9g6hvo2_100.png')][atrb=style, border: 1px dotted #D7E0E3] [style=float: left; width: 250px; font-family: calibri; font-size: 8pt; text-align: justify; margin: 5px; padding: 5px; background-color: #fefefe; border-left: 14px solid #D7E0E3; border-bottom: 1px solid #D7E0E3; min-height: 230px][style=font-family: amatic sc; font-size: 20pt; letter-spacing: 1px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center; border-left: 10px solid #D7E0E3; border-right: 10px solid #D7E0E3]BUT BIG ENOUGH TO CUT ME[/style] he'd been up most of the night, wandering around the city in search of his brother. he had intended to find roger's camp and leave him some food before sneaking back into the base and getting at least a few more hours of sleep, but his plans rarely seemed to go accordingly. and now he'd been wandering aimlessly for ages without a single hair of his older brother.
tom worried faintly that his brother had moved on without him. it was unlike them to stay in one place so long, but they rarely moved on without telling each other first. though they'd didn't often travel together, they almost always traveled in the same direction. what if roger had gotten tired of waiting and left the area without checking in. he might have assumed tom would follow his trail, which tom realized now he actually would. if roger had moved on, tom would return to the base, get his things, and follow his brother's trail until he found him. even the luxury of the base mattered less to him that staying near his brother.
he was in fact very much enjoying the luxury of the base, though. he would be very sorry to leave his comfortable cot in the barracks and two regular meals a day. he wouldn't miss having to be a steward, but cooking and cleaning for others was better than worrying about food every day. and food and shelter weren't the only benefits, either. living at the base, tom had begun eating a far more omnivorous diet. now that it was well into spring, the garden was producing more and more produce for meals. it had only taken tom a few days to notice the different vegetables made in diet. he felt hungry again much quicker, but also felt much healthier. his hair felt less coarse, his nails grew a little thicker, and he could have sworn he'd gotten a little bit taller. as a nomad, you had to be really careful which plants you ate, but now tom could eat as many as he could fit on his plate. (taste-wise, he still preferred meat, but that was a sacrifice he was willing to make.)
tom ducked around the corner of a building, adjusting the strap of his bag. it wasn't very heavy; there was no way he could sneak off with a large amount of food. but as a steward, no one noticed if he took a few bits of produce here and there. he'd even snuck off with some leftover chicken, wrapped carefully in a towel. if he didn't find roger soon, tom might just get hungry enough to eat it all himself.
just as he was thinking that, though, he heard footsteps nearby. he knew it could easily be someone dangerous, but tom told himself he knew right away it was his brother. sure enough, he came up to another former city block and saw black-haired roger striding from a building. tom surprised a grin. "there you are!" he called over to him.[/style] [style=margin-top: 6px; width: 100px; height:100px; float:right; font-size: 7pt; font-family: calibri; text-align: center; border: 5px solid #fefefe; border-bottom: 30px solid #fefefe; margin-right: 5px] [style=font-family: amatic sc; font-size: 10pt; letter-spacing: 1px; border-left: 10px solid #D7E0E3; margin-top: 5px]TOO SMALL TO MATTER[/style] [style=border-top: 1px solid #D7E0E3; font-family: georgia; font-size: 6pt; padding-top: 10px; text-transform: uppercase]coded by mtqc of ote[/style] [style=font-family: georgia; font-size: 54pt; color: #D7E0E3; z-index: 1000; margin-left: 80px]}[/style] [style=background-color: #fefefe; padding: 2px; margin-top: -65px]WORDS: 512[/style] [style=margin-top: 5px; background-color: #fefefe; padding: 2px]TAG: YANNI/ROGER[/style] [style=margin-top: 5px; background-color: #fefefe; padding: 2px]STATUS: IT'S GO TIME[/style][/style] |
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Post by Roger Gale on May 1, 2013 17:39:11 GMT -8
[atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=width,480,bTable][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,100][atrb=vAlign,top] ASHES ASHES Roger heard the familiar voice of his kid brother, and he spun around to face him. A wave of relief washed over him—after the encounter he had with the dead boy earlier, he was elated to see his brother looking fine and healthier than ever. Of course, he didn’t show it. When he met up with his brother, he merely smirked and punched him on the arm. “Think you mean there you are,” he snarked in reply. “Thought we were meeting up earlier, dummy.” The dark-haired brother walked onward after adjusting his knapsack. He fished around it for a few moments before grabbing the compass he had snatched earlier.
“Got this from a kid. Looks like it still works,” he explained, leaving out the detail that he was dead. No need to conjure up that image again. Roger turned it over in his hand and looked it over with a scrutinizing glare. The more he looked at it, the less likely he thought he’d get anything out of it. But it was worth a shot—maybe if he traded multiple things. “I heard someone’s out here trading knives. Have you seen anyone around?” he asked, glancing at his brother. Having two pairs of eyes out and about was handy.
Suddenly, Roger stopped and narrowed his eyes. What… What was that smell? It seemed like it had come on rather suddenly, but it also seemed faint enough that it might have been from a distance. Whatever it was, it smelled heavenly. Roger hadn’t eaten properly in over a day, and he could feel his stomach growling before he heard it. With a look of utter confusion, he turned to his kid brother and his eyebrows cinched.
“Hey, were you cooking earlier?” he questioned bluntly. “You smell like… food.” After a moment he realized how animalistic he sounded, and he snorted. Still, he couldn’t help how hungry he was, or how his nose suddenly became much more aware. Roger playfully shoved his brother and chuckled over the matter. “Have you been holding out on me? I’ve been looking all over for a good patch for hunting.”
Code words for: Cough up your food, Tommy. I’m starving.
Notes: short post is short ;_; Tagged: dark w/ Tom Words: 365 template by pianissimo of BTN
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Post by Tomlin Oak on May 3, 2013 14:15:07 GMT -8
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0px,true][atrb=cellpadding,0px,true][atrb=style, background-image:url('http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lzju29VxIR1r9g6hvo2_100.png')][atrb=style, border: 1px dotted #D7E0E3] [style=float: left; width: 250px; font-family: calibri; font-size: 8pt; text-align: justify; margin: 5px; padding: 5px; background-color: #fefefe; border-left: 14px solid #D7E0E3; border-bottom: 1px solid #D7E0E3; min-height: 230px][style=font-family: amatic sc; font-size: 20pt; letter-spacing: 1px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center; border-left: 10px solid #D7E0E3; border-right: 10px solid #D7E0E3]BUT BIG ENOUGH TO CUT ME[/style] he was almost glad for a nice punch on the arm. he knew they'd never been a very sentimental family, but a good arm punch was a nice welcome after being apart for a few weeks.
he gave the compass a confused glance. "why would you need one?" he asked. he and roger had known how to tell directions about the time they learned to walk. he couldn't imagine someone actually needing a bit of metal to tell which direction was which. perhaps on a cloudy day it might come in handy to someone who didn't travel much, but to tom the sun wasn't necessary to tell which direction was west. he simply knew. even in the dead of a blizzard, he could point out north. he understood, though, when roger mentioned a trader. if he were more wiley, tom would consider going into trading. he and roger already traveled around a lot, might as well be making money off of it. but he'd always known traders to be a bit too intelligent, always planning something. they always seemed able to tell at a glance if you had more on you worth trading. they weren't the type of person you wanted to be around very often. tom figured he wasn't smart enough nor mean enough for all that. in response to roger's question, he only shook his head. perhaps the scouts knew something, but word hadn't reached the kitchen yet.
he didn't miss the hungry way roger asked about food. a sense of guilt flooded through him. here he'd been eating to decent-sized meals a day, while roger was probably struggling to find a single small one. "have you been holding out on me?" tom didn't answer right away but smirked. of course he was always holding out on roger. growing up, roger was always the bigger one, which meant he thought he could eat more than his younger brother. if tom wanted much of any food to himself, he'd had to hide his leftovers carefully. this was definitely different, of course. if nothing else, they were the same size now. roger couldn't steal his leftovers now without getting a good fight for it first.
"i've been looking all over for a good patch for hunting." again tom smirked. "good hunting's that way," he said as he gestured in the direction of the forest. he knew roger wouldn't be very eager to go back there any time soon. sobering, he turned his head in the opposite direction. "there's a good place that way, too. where the forest has taken over part of the city." he'd never seen it himself, but the scouts had told him about it. it was a good place for collecting plants, but it was also the farthest point from the base the scouts would dare go.
knowing his brother wouldn't wait patiently much longer, tom rummaged through his pack and removed the chicken first. if he pulled vegetables out first, roger would know right away something was up. that was the second part of his excursion. tom had waited long enough to tell roger that he'd joined the base. best get it over with.
he passed over the chicken and started pulling out potatoes and a few tomatoes. "listen, there's a reason you haven't seen me around much..." he started slowly.[/style] [style=margin-top: 6px; width: 100px; height:100px; float:right; font-size: 7pt; font-family: calibri; text-align: center; border: 5px solid #fefefe; border-bottom: 30px solid #fefefe; margin-right: 5px] [style=font-family: amatic sc; font-size: 10pt; letter-spacing: 1px; border-left: 10px solid #D7E0E3; margin-top: 5px]TOO SMALL TO MATTER[/style] [style=border-top: 1px solid #D7E0E3; font-family: georgia; font-size: 6pt; padding-top: 10px; text-transform: uppercase]coded by mtqc of ote[/style] [style=font-family: georgia; font-size: 54pt; color: #D7E0E3; z-index: 1000; margin-left: 80px]}[/style] [style=background-color: #fefefe; padding: 2px; margin-top: -65px]WORDS: 560[/style] [style=margin-top: 5px; background-color: #fefefe; padding: 2px]TAG: YANNI/ROGER[/style] [style=margin-top: 5px; background-color: #fefefe; padding: 2px]STATUS: IT'S GO TIME[/style][/style] |
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Post by Roger Gale on May 4, 2013 14:46:51 GMT -8
[atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=width,480,bTable][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,100][atrb=vAlign,top] ASHES ASHES Roger gave a curt nod when Tom pointed toward the forest. He knew it was only a trick in his head, but he felt a slight stinging sensation where his ribs were bruised and cracked only a few weeks previously. He had tried to forget everything about the incident with the stupid moose—but he couldn’t forget that, or the nervous ghost of a girl that the brothers had met during the ordeal. Thalo. Sometimes he thought about her and what she was doing, but for the most time he tried to put her behind him. Still, Roger knew that he would have to go back to the forest at one point to find some more meat. He had been practicing with his bow and with his hatchet, so he thought he stood a chance against the wildlife of the forest. When Tom mentioned another good hunting patch, though, Roger looked in that direction. He had been up there once or twice, but not enough to really look around.
The older brother watched as the younger brother pulled food from his pack, beginning with chicken. Wait… That was for him? Roger looked between the food and his brother for a moment before taking it into his hands carefully. He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, but he didn’t hesitate to begin eating the chicken. It tasted as good as it smelled. Despite that, something seemed different to Roger. Usually he didn’t get food so easily. Unless he was starving, his jibes at making his brother hand over his food were usually fruitless. He tucked some of the leftovers into his bag, planning to eat it later, but when Tom spoke again, he stopped. There’s a reason you haven’t seen me around much…
Roger spotted the greens and other vegetables that Tom was going to offer him. He offered him the vegetables, but the older brother didn’t move to take them. He wasn’t planning on it. Not until his baby brother explained himself. Suspiciously, the older of the two looked at the other through narrow slits. “What’s that supposed to mean?” he questioned. “Where have you been, Tom?” After he asked the question, his mind began putting the pieces together. His eyes darted to the juicy tomato in Tom’s hands—he couldn’t have grown that. Especially not in the few weeks that they had been apart. But Roger hadn’t heard of anyone trading produce around here, and he knew that Tom hadn’t been into bartering lately.
The dark-haired brother reached into his sack and pulled out the chicken that he’d been given. He suddenly got a bad taste in his mouth. What had he just eaten? The fruits of a stranger’s labor? Roger felt his grip tighten, angrily. He didn’t like to be left in the dark, and he especially didn’t like it when his little brother kept secrets. “Where did you get this?” he asked in a low voice. He didn’t want to hear the answer on his brother’s lips, because he suspected that he already knew.
Notes: ohhhh Roger Tagged: dark w/ Tom Words: 506 template by pianissimo of BTN
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Post by Tomlin Oak on May 7, 2013 20:42:32 GMT -8
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0px,true][atrb=cellpadding,0px,true][atrb=style, background-image:url('http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lzju29VxIR1r9g6hvo2_100.png')][atrb=style, border: 1px dotted #D7E0E3] [style=float: left; width: 250px; font-family: calibri; font-size: 8pt; text-align: justify; margin: 5px; padding: 5px; background-color: #fefefe; border-left: 14px solid #D7E0E3; border-bottom: 1px solid #D7E0E3; min-height: 230px][style=font-family: amatic sc; font-size: 20pt; letter-spacing: 1px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center; border-left: 10px solid #D7E0E3; border-right: 10px solid #D7E0E3]BUT BIG ENOUGH TO CUT ME[/style] he could tell right away that this wasn't going to go very well. he hadn't even begun to explain, but roger was already glaring at his suspiciously like he'd given him poisoned meat. immediately, tom felt defensive. without really meaning to, he thought of all the times roger still treated him like a child. they weren't even a full year apart in age; did his brother really think he couldn't make decisions on his own? perhaps if roger had begun the discussion a little more rationally, tom would have felt more understanding. as it was, though, he felt he had to defend the base. after all, they had been feeding him for going on three weeks.
he could see roger connecting the dots without further explanation. the black-haired brother pulled the chicken back out of his bag and stare at the vegetables like they were grenades. "Where did you get this?" roger asked in a voice like a hiss.
since it was already pretty obvious, tom didn't feel the need to elaborate too much. "well, i cleaned and cooked that one,"( he gestured to the remaining chicken) "but someone else grew it and butchered it," tom said jokingly, but there was a note of anger in his voice.
he honestly couldn't understand why roger would react so negatively so quickly. hadn't their father always taught them to think? well, tom had thought about it, and he decided the benefits of the base outweighed any cons. sure, he was stuck cooking and cleaning for a bunch of kids he hardly knew, but in exchange he was guaranteed a warm, dry cot and dependable meals. on top of that, for the first time since their father had left, tom had a chance to get an education. he was still having trouble with reading; their father had taught them, but tom had already forgotten most of his letters. he was relearning it, though, and there was a chance he'd be able to pick up some magic in his occasional free time. bed, food, education; how could that be a bad thing?
tom shook his head faintly in frustration. "look, i work, and in exchange i get food and a bed. always. everyday," he specified deliberately. he wanted roger to understand that he never went hungry while he was at the base. there wasn't any uncertainty or worrying about the next day. "is that such a bad thing?" he added a little desperately.[/style] [style=margin-top: 6px; width: 100px; height:100px; float:right; font-size: 7pt; font-family: calibri; text-align: center; border: 5px solid #fefefe; border-bottom: 30px solid #fefefe; margin-right: 5px] [style=font-family: amatic sc; font-size: 10pt; letter-spacing: 1px; border-left: 10px solid #D7E0E3; margin-top: 5px]TOO SMALL TO MATTER[/style] [style=border-top: 1px solid #D7E0E3; font-family: georgia; font-size: 6pt; padding-top: 10px; text-transform: uppercase]coded by mtqc of ote[/style] [style=font-family: georgia; font-size: 54pt; color: #D7E0E3; z-index: 1000; margin-left: 80px]}[/style] [style=background-color: #fefefe; padding: 2px; margin-top: -65px]WORDS: 413[/style] [style=margin-top: 5px; background-color: #fefefe; padding: 2px]TAG: YANNI/ROGER[/style] [style=margin-top: 5px; background-color: #fefefe; padding: 2px]STATUS: IT'S GO TIME[/style][/style] |
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Post by Roger Gale on May 8, 2013 11:53:57 GMT -8
[atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=width,480,bTable][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,100][atrb=vAlign,top] ASHES ASHES Tom’s characteristic snark didn’t catch Roger by surprise. He looked down at the chicken again and wondered what kind of person might have bred the chicken, and butchered it. Roger immediately judged them. Suddenly everything that was great about the chicken only moments ago became a list of negative qualities. It barely had any meat on it, the cut was wrong, it tasted like the chicken had a starved diet… He preferred the savory taste of venison he butchered himself after a long day of hunting. And up until now, he thought that Tom did as well. The older brother cocked and eyebrow and smirked humorlessly. “Cooking and cleaning now, huh?” Roger sneered. “That’s cute.” He was sure they’d have his brother picking flowers as his next job. What a joke.
Behind his thick layer of dry jokes and sarcasm, Roger felt himself sinking. He didn’t know what kind of life he might lead without his brother around—that was the only life he knew. Ever since he could remember, he’d had Tom at his side. Even if they split up for days at a time (especially recently), Roger always knew that they would meet up again, ready to take on the world that was in shambles. And now he was conflicted; while he was happy to see that his brother was safe and taken care of, he was disappointed that it came at the cost of losing him to the Base. Roger knew that he never wanted to join that place, but with Tom living there now, he wasn’t sure what to do. Especially after their father gave him clear instructions as a boy to watch out for him and keep a brotherly eye on him. Most importantly, Roger learned from their father that he could rely on no one but his own family. No one was out for his safety and wellbeing but Tom and himself.
Is that such a bad thing? Tom asked the question that lingered on Roger’s mind. But he had already made the decision by the time his brother tried to explain himself. He was angry that Tom had joined the Base, but not nearly as angry as he was at the fact that he had done so without telling him, or even consulting with him first. Until then, Roger believed that they were a team—them against everyone else. His eyebrows set in a deep scowl, and he gazed at his brother without moving an inch. He hadn’t even dropped the food he was holding.
“Seems like a nice deal, doesn’t it?” Roger began. His voice began to sound like a growl—he wasn’t sure if that was anger in his voice, or sadness. “They abuse your skills so that you can have a bed, and so that you can help feed the deadweights. Sure, sounds nice,” he could feel the anger and betrayal rising in his voice. “But what happens when they don’t need you anymore, hm? When they have too many bottom-feeders, and there aren’t enough resources to go around?”
He was smirking, but in reality he wanted to throw the food on the ground and punch the nearest tree. Or maybe even slap his brother around to knock some sense into him. Instead, he motioned his arms toward their surroundings, “How do you think this place got this way, Tom? Too many people. Not enough resources,” Roger scoffed. He shoved the food back into his brother’s arms a little too forcefully.
Under his breath, he muttered, “Didn’t you learn anything from Dad?” After he said it, he wished he’d kept it inside his head. Trying to recover from it, Roger nodded his head toward the food. “Why don’t you go run that back to your new friends. I’m sure those saps need it more than I do,” the older brother grumbled. “I don’t need their charity.”
Notes: ohhhh Roger Tagged: dark w/ Tom Words: 647 template by pianissimo of BTN
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Post by Tomlin Oak on May 10, 2013 14:09:19 GMT -8
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0px,true][atrb=cellpadding,0px,true][atrb=style, background-image:url('http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lzju29VxIR1r9g6hvo2_100.png')][atrb=style, border: 1px dotted #D7E0E3] [style=float: left; width: 250px; font-family: calibri; font-size: 8pt; text-align: justify; margin: 5px; padding: 5px; background-color: #fefefe; border-left: 14px solid #D7E0E3; border-bottom: 1px solid #D7E0E3; min-height: 230px][style=font-family: amatic sc; font-size: 20pt; letter-spacing: 1px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center; border-left: 10px solid #D7E0E3; border-right: 10px solid #D7E0E3]BUT BIG ENOUGH TO CUT ME[/style]with a sinking feeling, he realized there wouldn't be any convincing roger. he'd never had any intention of pursuading his brother to join him, but he would have hoped he could have gotten him to at least understand. it seemed even that was too much.
roger, on the other hand, didn't even try to convince him to leave the base. to tom, his brother's words were nothing but insults, both against him and the base. if roger's arguments had simply been for his brother's well-being, perhaps tom would have felt more sympathetic, but instead he felt his anger growing. he clenched his teeth and scowled at the air next to roger's head, unable to meet his eye for fear he'd snap and give him a good punch.
“how do you think this place got this way, tom? too many people. not enough resources," roger felt the need to tell him, and it made tom feel like screaming at him. did he think he was stupid? too stupid to make his own choices or know who to trust? as if roger was such an expert on the war anyway.
"didn't you learn anything from dad?" the comment was biting, and tom decided he'd had enough. he didn't need to stand around being insulted. he stuffed the vegetables back into his bag and didn't even listen to whatever other insults his brother was throwing at him.
he looked his brother in the eye only briefly, lips tight and face drawn. "goodbye, roger." then he turned around and left, taking the street to his right which he felt certain would get him back to the base the quickest. he refused to look back or listen to anything else roger had to say. he kept his head high and his eyes straight ahead.
all the same, he felt tears stinging at his eyes. he felt as though roger were abandoning him like father had. this time, though, it hurt even more because he was the one walking away. [/style] [style=margin-top: 6px; width: 100px; height:100px; float:right; font-size: 7pt; font-family: calibri; text-align: center; border: 5px solid #fefefe; border-bottom: 30px solid #fefefe; margin-right: 5px] [style=font-family: amatic sc; font-size: 10pt; letter-spacing: 1px; border-left: 10px solid #D7E0E3; margin-top: 5px]TOO SMALL TO MATTER[/style] [style=border-top: 1px solid #D7E0E3; font-family: georgia; font-size: 6pt; padding-top: 10px; text-transform: uppercase]coded by mtqc of ote[/style] [style=font-family: georgia; font-size: 54pt; color: #D7E0E3; z-index: 1000; margin-left: 80px]}[/style] [style=background-color: #fefefe; padding: 2px; margin-top: -65px]WORDS: 339[/style] [style=margin-top: 5px; background-color: #fefefe; padding: 2px]TAG: YANNI/ROGER[/style] [style=margin-top: 5px; background-color: #fefefe; padding: 2px]OOC: SORRY FOR SHORTNESS[/style][/style] |
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Post by Roger Gale on May 18, 2013 18:27:23 GMT -8
[atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=width,480,bTable][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,100][atrb=vAlign,top] ASHES ASHES The glare on Roger’s face didn’t at all reflect the sorrow he felt deep within his chest. Just like that, his younger brother looked him in the eyes and muttered the dreadful word—goodbye. Just like that, he had abandoned him. Roger’s hand clenched into a tight fist and he watched Tom turn around and leave. “I thought we were in this together,” he began, a little louder than he intended. Somewhere inside of him he knew what he needed to say. But how was he supposed to ask his brother to wait or explain himself further when he was already so prepared to leave him?
“Well don’t come running back to me like a sappy little shit when they kick you out!” Roger bellowed as he began to back away. Tom didn’t turn around. Roger didn’t expect him to. Wait, Tom, come back. We’re a team… The words wouldn’t escape him, no matter how hard he tried. “You got that?” I swear I’m not like Father. Just listen to me. Instead, the words froze in his throat, and Roger ground his teeth angrily.
When Tom finally disappeared into the distance, Roger turned around and set off in the other direction. His pace was barely above a slow stalk, but he couldn’t get his feet to move any faster. After a few steps, he leaned against a nearby building and stared at the ground. For the first time in a long time, Roger had no idea what to do. All of the anger and frustration he had felt earlier transformed into confusion.
Angrily, he punched his fist against the demolished mortar of the building. His skin was tough, so it didn’t split or bleed, but he felt something in his hand crack under the pressure. Roger cursed loudly and slumped onto the ground. “Damn it… God damn it.” He ran his hands through his hair and rested his head against the concrete.
He suddenly remembered the dead boy he had encountered earlier that afternoon. Roger suddenly thought that between the two brothers, perhaps Tom wasn’t the one he had to worry about ending up like that. Roger felt his gut heave, but he hadn’t eaten enough for his body to vomit anything up.
Notes: /cries Tagged: dark w/ Tom Words: 373 template by pianissimo of BTN
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