t h r e a d & f e a t h e r s >> meghan

t h r e a d & f e a t h e r s >> meghan Nov 14, 2013 11:27:38 GMT -5

Post by semper on Nov 14, 2013 11:27:38 GMT -5

I don’t really know why I joined this organization in the first place. Perhaps I had some unconscious decision that I wanted to see what else was out there, beyond the fences of One; go exploring, you know? I’ve spent my days wandering these clean streets in the hopes of bringing a new reform, making things run smoother and have fewer people tempted to vandalize or rob. I do try to be lenient, but not too much. There are instances in which robbery is okay, but you rarely find Peacekeepers that ever feel that way. I tend to think of myself as a sort of “revolutionary Peacekeeper,” willing to bend the rules to help those with innocent intentions. I’ve seen quite a few fellow officers who only abuse their power and superiority by picking on others, so I stray away from that destructive concept. I did not swear an oath to harass people or distort the law in order to throw more people behind bars – I’m here to protect and serve, fulfilling my duty by keeping the peace.

But lately I’ve been itching to expand the horizon. I still believe that’s why I joined the Enterprise’s crew: their entire mission is to help people, much like what I already do, but they’re out and about searching for things, exploring where no one’s gone before. That means new terrains, new people, new species to discover. It’s particularly exciting to me (and to Lucy too, of course) that there are things yet still to be discovered; I find that Lucy enjoys wandering around foreign lands as well, flying from tree to tree and squawking whenever she finds some new edible fruit or nut. She brings me back samples, too, like some odd game of fetch. (Once she even brought me back an old shoe and I still have it sitting on my desk.) I’ve found that I like analyzing new fungi or plants, finding out what they’re like, how they thrive, things of that nature. I keep a notebook logged with every detail and I treasure it like a bible, tucking it away safely or in a pocket on my person, always keeping track of it. (There may or may not be a few scribbles in there from when Lucy has taken up my pencil and tried drawing.)

Lucy sits perched on my shoulder, curiously watching everyone and everything that’s going on at the train station. She’s used to the hub of human life so she appears quite relaxed on my shoulder, occasionally chattering in my ear. Every so often I reach up and pet her head, letting her know that I’ve not forgotten about her being there. I also slip her a dry piece of apple, too, in order to keep her from doing her little mutterings. (I’ve already eaten about half of her supply of dried apples.) She takes the piece in her foot and begins to munch while I stand and gather my bearings.

There’s quite a few people milling around, mostly workers but there’s a few citizens too. No familiar faces, unfortunately. Perhaps I’ve incorrectly remembered when I was supposed to be here? I look down at my watch and note that it’s 11:10 in the morning but it doesn’t ring a bell of any sort. Maybe I’m just wrong entirely. I lower my hand back down and give a low sigh, deciding to wait just a little while more before giving up for the day.

I meander through the crowds, stopping to let Lucy climb down my arm and allow a kid or two to pet her. (She’s an attention whore so she loves it.) I must admit, though, that it makes me smile to see the little kids grin when they feel her feathers or when she spits out a word like “hello” and it scares them into giggling. The kids scamper away and she crawls back up my arm to my shoulder. I continue on my way, coming to a bench that’s halfway occupied by a lady knitting.

”Pardon, miss, but would it be alright if I joined you on the bench?”

Graphic credit to Onyx <3

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t h r e a d & f e a t h e r s >> meghan Nov 30, 2013 10:53:07 GMT -5

Post by Meghan on Nov 30, 2013 10:53:07 GMT -5

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Escaping through crowds to get away from conniving parents was starting to become my specialty. All morning every word they spewed had to do with some sort of brutal murder that had occurred within the latest Hunger Games. "District One tribute's did this, or District Eleven did that. Say, Bianca, you'll do better when you volunteer, right?" Volunteer? Did they really think that Bianca Sandrino was stupid enough to put her neck on the line for somebody else? No sir-ee, not me.

Yeah, yeah, I was just their little puppet, whatever. The Games really must be my dream come true, or something, and honestly, what other purpose do I have in this nation? Oh, besides to, you know, live and be merry and other crap like that.

What my parents failed to understand is that I had a dream, and it did not involve them. I had hobbies, and friends, and really, just a life to live that didn't involve brutal murder and surefire death. I could never be a victor, not with my attitude.

I wanted to save people, not destroy them, and it was because of this reason that I found myself rushing from the incessant chatter of my parents as soon as they had their backs turned. My head ducked through the crowd as I navigated away from the rows of merchant shops and towards a nearby train station. There was really no other purpose to go there other than to hide away and become just another face in a sea of nobodies.

It was here, knitting innocently on a bench (of course, always innocent) that a young man approached me with polite words, an adorable jewel-bird on his shoulder. He was wearing the distinct uniform of some special unit peacekeeper or another, so it certainly was a shock for him to speak to me. My eyes drew away from the gusset of the yellow sock I was working on (I was making a pair for Nathaniel, he wore too many dark colors), and locked dead center into his.

Blue-green overwhelms my vision as he stares at me with every bit of kindness any other citizen would exhibit. Aren't peacekeepers supposed to be rude and demanding? Who was this guy to break the apparent mold? I bite my tongue from giving him venom for his appearance, I wouldn't want to make the wrong impression to a peacekeeper. Besides, perhaps his presence would be enough to explain away any explanations from my parents.

My stomach can't help but tie itself in a knot as I nod slowly, still lost in the features of his face. A small mouth, a thick nose (but not too thick), thin eyebrows, a square jaw. He seemed to be an odd-wash of thick and thin. Where his clothes were rather tight (was that even legal?), the muscles on his arms were anything but, and in fact, they must be contributing to the outgrown look of the rest of his uniform.

I hide my face in shame, turning away from him to look into the distance, as if I had some greater purpose than to speak to a man (and he had to be much older than me) like this.

For once in my life I felt flustered. Not because of anything this fellow had done to me, per say, but because he was incredibly handsome and he had spoken politely. Okay, maybe I hadn't escaped the teenage boy-craze as much I would have thought before this afternoon (I had always surrounded myself with men, and never before did I feel such an instant attraction). But was this really a bad thing? I could feel attracted to a perfect stranger, especially if he was leaving and I would never have to seem him again. That was perfectly acceptable.

For a minute, I busied myself with turning the gusset and picking up stitches, a task that took no shortage of concentration. Yet something about the way his bird ate a piece of apple, and the way the man breathed just a little too anxiously, did not help me stay focused. I stole a glance at him, and then another, until finally I was just outright staring at the little animal. Ripred, it would be fun to knit something for a thing that size, and it wasn't often that life gave me any challenges.

Still, something of that nature would be inappropriate to say to a complete stranger. So instead I settled for giving him a flighty smile, and four, nervous words. "I like your bird."

My head dropped again, as if I had not just given him (and his pet) a compliment. No, nothing to see here, just a busy girl on a busy day who had no intention of getting to know a man she felt entirely too drawn to, and was certainly too young for. Nothing, nothing, nothing.