misfortune & obsidian souls {blackwater orphanage}

He stands, head bowed against the wind as he glares down at a miserably rebellious patch of grass, arms crossed tightly against his chest. All around, snow falls in ragged clumps, softly thumping against the ground. Somewhere in the distance, footsteps thump throughout the ghostly quiet hollow, until they stop immediately behind him. "Thaddeus?" she questions, until he closes his eyes, allows a held breath to escape, and turns with a mask of imperfectly perfect happiness- a crooked smirk tilting one side of his mouth playfully upwards. His eyes inquire, roaming across her heavily clothed body. CupidThaddeus knows exactly what she looks like without a scrap of fabric adorning her flesh. He does not answer her immediately; instead, he chooses to allow his eyes to wander.

The girl feels uncomfortable, and looks away. "I know you've been sleeping with Andrew.

"Penelope-" he begins, arms unfolding in a grand guesture. "When we started fucking, I told you we weren't exclusive." The look on her face would tear at a normal man, but it only feeds his ego. Tears well at the sides of her eyes and she stares away. His arms move to encircle her, a soft hand gently stroking her hair- she hates herself, he can feel it. "You know how I do. Humans aren't meant to be monogomous~" His voice like soft velvet sends shivers down her spine. Resentment bubbles below the surface of her skin. Honestly, she did it to herself, and she aknowledges this fact.

"Fine," she begins, pulling herself away from the poisonous grasp, throwing her hair weakly over a shoulder. "I'm not going to be with you if you're going to be this way." She turns to leave, halting for but a moment at the edge of Thaddeus' clearing, turning to look back at him only once.

His back is to her, eyes closed tight once again. Her footsteps echo away slowly, determined, and his pale eyes open once again, staring at that same patch of green in a sea of white with a frown against his countenance. "Leave... They always leave in the end anyway..."

The small form shudders on the second floor, locked away in a lonely bathroom, dribbling and whining into the porcelain bowl. Tears stream down crimson cheeks as he heaves and sobs. A companion perches upon the edge of an old-fashioned tub, hand gingerly rubbing the male's back, whispering hushed pleas of appologies and quiet prayers. The kid said he could handle it- if he died, it'd be the end for the seventeen year old.

"C'mon, Astley..." he whispers, coaxing the boy to continue vomiting. If he needs to throw up, then he's already way beyond his tolerance threshold. "I didn't mean to fuck you up, I swear to god..."

Astley shivers, and finally collapses, a moan passing through his jaws, the sour taste of acid lingering in his throat. "I-I'm 'kay." he responds, small form shuddering on the ground. His head swims and spins, the overhead lights reflecting on a small pool of dribble slipping from his lips.

"I'm putting you in the bathtub." the older boy answers, dragging the youth into the tub, hands searching to turn on the cold water. Astley groans in rebellion, hands struggling with the male holding him down. "No man, the water kills your buzz and it'll bring you back." is the answer he gets. The boy doesn't care, and eventually falls limp, sick of struggling. Aside from the whole throwing-up thing, the being drunk deal was pretty sweet. Jumbled thoughts came to him quick and half formed, and he liked sorting through the randomness- much better than dwelling on ancient history anyway. He doesn't want to come back, he wants to stay in this state for eternity lost within his own thoughts. When you're swimming through a sea of emotion, a small island of reprise is nice.

"Shit... Astley, no- don't, stay with me. C'mon..." The voice fades away into the darkness as his eyes close, a half-formed grin on his lips. He drifts away into the silence, limbs floating in his ocean of alcohol.

Hunched over, she digs through the dirt. It is spring, and birds argue back and forth overhead, screeching and cawing at each other from diffrent nests. She smiles, her copper eyes raising to the dark-barked trees, tutting gently. Every animal had plenty to be excited for- eggs would soon hatch, and her crop especially, would soon bloom. They would have food in the form of squiggling, scuttling insects soon enough.

Feet from her hands, a sparrow lands, its tiny head tilting this way and that, curiously watching the girl with beady eyes. Cecily gazes down at the earth and searches until she finds her hidden treasure. An earthworm, wiggling its way through the ground away from the burning light of the sun. Tender fingers withdraw the pink tube and toss it in the direction of the bird who greedily snatches it within its beak and flutters away to a nest nearby filled to the brim with chirping fletchlings.

Spring is her favorite season. Everything in bloom, the ground fresh and fertile from the winter snows... Everything is peaceful. Carefully, gently, she withdraws a cluster of seeds from her pocket and pushes them into the soil. In weeks, they will grow to be massive sunflowers, chock full of delicious seeds for the younger kids in Blackwater to snack on. Still, she says nothing, and wipes her hands free of grime- except for her nails. She seems to care little about her own appearance, her rumpled hair in a loose bun on the back of her neck.

Her project looks as though it took her months to complete- flowers around the borders of the dark house, trees in full bloom soon to yield fruit. to the hungry hands of the children. Pride wells within the confines of her chest, and slowly, she glides away from the overturned ground.