When it Rains - It Pours. [Kire]
Jul 22, 2012 23:59:17 GMT -5
Post by Eastern Orange on Jul 22, 2012 23:59:17 GMT -5
[/color]It had been a long day for the poor Peacekeeper with a kind heart, but deceptively callous appearance and very merciless job.Fahrenheit wanted nothing more than to escape into his house and try to forget the skinny face of the boy and ear-spitting cries of the girl from earlier today. He trudged down the street toward home, bits of fruit and other food fell off his ruined uniform. Cats came running over to greet him, and lick the food off his boots. He didn’t stop to pet them as he usually did, but kept his stride and practically threw himself through the entryway of his house, and slammed the door, missing the tails of a few cats by mere centimeters. He sighed heavily, plopped into the nearest chair, leaned his head back, and tried to relax his tense muscles.
The morning had started off fine. Fahrenheit had been patrolling the town square where vendors sold all sorts of things from fruit, to cakes, to little knick-knacks for children. The general mood of the place was positive, nothing like the angry mob it had turned into a short while later.
Around noon, the squalling of a little girl and harsh yelling of an adult rose above the busy din of the crowded market. Peacekeepers and citizens alike were attracted to the noise. Fahrenheit had to push his way through several layers of people before he caught sight of the disturbance. A middle-aged man was shaking a youngish boy by the arm, and yelling at the top of his lungs about stealing. Next to them, a little girl was crying. The boy was probably around sixteen and was nothing more than a sheet of skin stretched over some twigs. It probably goes without saying that the boy had been trying to steal food. Fahrenheit stepped forward and took the boy from the merchant. The boy looked up at Fahrenheit with pure horror and immediately started to beg for forgiveness.
Fahrenheit had no intention of arresting the boy. He planned on dragging him away and setting him loose down a side alley. That is, until another Peacekeeper showed up. Maximus held up his hand for the boy. “I’ll take him in for you, you deal with that girl.” Fahrenheit pulled the scrawny kid closer to him, as if to protect him. Maximus raised an eyebrow. Fahrenheit couldn’t refuse him, not again. In any case, Maximus had seen the boy: there was no setting him free now. Fahrenheit gulped and gently pushed the boy into Maximus’s arms. Fahrenheit turned toward the girl who was no more than eight. “Where is your mother?” Fahrenheit said over his shoulder to the boy. There was no answer. “Do you want her arrested too?!” He snarled, angry not at him but at the situation. “They’re dead” Was the harsh reply. Fahrenheit's shoulders sagged; he had suspected that they were orphans, but had hoped differently. He sighed. “Well, it’s off to the orphanage for you.” He said to the girl, grasping hold of her arm. At that, the little girl started sobbing and trying to reach for her brother.
What followed were desperate pleas from the siblings to be kept together. Fahrenheit dragged the girl one way, and Maximus took the boy another. It had been such a nasty sight: the brother and sister screaming and struggling to get back to each other. Maximus struck the boy on his head with his baton to stop his struggling, which only made the girl’s scream more hysterical. The crowd turned hostile then. An unidentifiable source had thrown the first thing. It was an overripe tomato and it hit Fahrenheit squarely in the head. The rest of the crowd followed suit; their numbers made them brave and rash. It also made it impossible to arrest anybody. Food rained done upon Fahrenheit and the girl. Stones, too. He got struck everywhere, from all sides. Finally, he picked up the girl and run down a side alley, twisting and turning until the last of the crowd fell back. He took the girl to the orphanage, reported back to HQ were he found out that the boy would be whipped the next day, and then began the long trek home downtrodden and ashamed.
Fahrenheit settled deeper into his chair, hoping to sink into the oblivion that is sleep. No such luck. A knock at the door chased away all hopes of a nap. He heaved himself out of the chair, dodged a few cats, and stood before the door, hesitant. He looked down at his food-speckled uniform and grimaced. He should have changed first thing when he got home… Oh well. Nothing he could do about it now. He opened the door.