Run Free // [Tags + Vespolis]
Sept 21, 2013 22:24:17 GMT -5
Post by L△LIA on Sept 21, 2013 22:24:17 GMT -5
[bg=FFFFFF][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=width,400,true][atrb=style,width: 400px; background-image: url(http://i40.tinypic.com/315okg8.png); background-repeat: no-repeat; padding-left:40px; padding-right:40px; padding-top:40px; border-left:1px solid #000000; border-right:1px solid #000000; border-top:1px solid #000000; -moz-border-radius-topright: 25px; border-radius-topright: 25px; -moz-border-radius-topleft: 25px; border-radius-topleft: 25px;opacity: 1;] The ocean slips by in a blur as I bike down makeshift dirt paths along the coast, passing groups of abandoned sandcastles as though they're ghost towns. During the brighter hours of the afternoon, families escape the urban dizziness of downtown for these quiet beaches, children building their daydreams with the aid of a bucket and loving their royal homes like crazy until it's time to leave. When the sun begins to dip in the sky, their memories follow and all of the sudden they just forget. Those miniature houses of imagination they devoted so much care to will soon be swept away by the water and no one will be around to know — except for me. Each time a wave laps up, I find myself wondering if I'm about to witness the end of that world or if those grand little castles will live to see sunset. Already, the clouds are lined with shadows and the sky is bruised with punches of electric pink and the first evidence of dusk's purple haze. My own imagination must be at work today as well, because I swear I hear the faint beating of a drum, as though someone is calling out to the softly approaching evening. I didn't realize it would take quite this long to reach my destination or I'd have left the city earlier, but when Bastille asked me to pick something up for him real quick, I thought he was being literal. There are worse ways to spend an hour than a scenic tour of the District, however, so I'm not too upset about it. It's been a while since I've found my way to the outskirts like this. Usually I'm so caught up in the excitement of back alley underworld dealings or uproarious warehouse parties that I don't pay much attention to the sea, but the salty breeze feels nice today and I can't help smiling despite the way it should feel relatively boring. I'm kinda boring too, so I can't really judge the ocean too harshly. More than anything, I'd like to be someone made of pure adrenaline and danger — a legacy of stories yet to be told — but I walk the edge instead, the way the tide laps at the same stretch of land over and over again. If anything, this little excursion is more exciting than what I'd have been doing otherwise. In all likeliness, I'd probably just be sitting on a curb somewhere if Bast hadn't sent me on an errand, tossing rocks at the gutter and wishing I were riding along for an adventure in his gondola or wondering about whatever became of my partner in crime from the Libertine's recent masquerade party. My daydreams don't stray very far these days, looping between the same faces and thoughts of where I might find them. Reaching up to tug at one of the straps of the canvas rucksack weighing down upon my back, I slow my speed as I turn off the main road and head toward a more secluded patch of wilderness. A massive splay of rocks shoot up to my left and I know I'm not lost, remembering them as one of the landmarks I was told to watch for. Crossing my fingers that the Vespoli's home can't be far now, the ground gets so rough that I have to dismount and walk my bike the rest of the way, idly kicking at pebbles as if that might help the minutes pass by a little faster. My footsteps find a rhythm that starts to sound an awful lot like the one haunting the dimming air and I get so distracted by it that I don't notice the huge ship that rises up from the horizon until it's close enough for my jaw to drop. Rejected from the water, the vessel is anchored to the earth as if it had grown from the soil, like a strange new breed of tree hewn from metal. "Oh my god. This is so rad!" A squeal of excitement rushes out of me and I drop my bike so I can sprint toward it freely, my boots thumping loudly as I rush by a sprawling garden and up to meet the people wandering around outside. Smoke begins to wisp up across the technicolor explosion of the sky, evidence of the first breaths of a fire. Here, the air is warm with more than just new flames, thick with unfamiliar scents, distant laughter, and a thousand hints at secrets I'd like to take a closer look at. When Bast told me I'd like the family he was sending me to retrieve a package from, I didn't take him very seriously, but now there's a skip in my step as I make my way forward. These people look like an adventure and I want in. "Hey! I mean... hi. Hello." I'm a little out of breath by the time I skid to a stop in front of someone, not really knowing what to say, but my voice still bubbling energetically. "I'm looking for the Vespolis? That's you, right?" Even as I speak to the guy I've approached, I'm still staring at the boat run aground, wondering how it got there and if it's been there for a long time. My curiosity is itching within my mouth and bouncing in my heels, certain that the story of someone's lifetime is sitting right there. "The Ferry Man sent me to pick up a package from you guys. I don't know who I'm supposed to talk to about that, but —" As quick as the tide swallowing up a city of forgotten sandcastles, my attention is carried away as both the sun and my imagination slip a little closer to the horizon. "— do you live there? I've never seen a boat that big out of the water. How cool is that. Seriously." |