blue blooded | opal
Jul 8, 2020 2:57:26 GMT -5
Post by gamemaker kelsier on Jul 8, 2020 2:57:26 GMT -5
Victor's village.
He felt odd standing there, backpack slung over his shoulder, letter in hand and gazing down the barrel of the small circle of houses. They were all cookie cut like some weird, haunting ghost story about suburbia. Val glanced over his shoulder back the way he'd come. The street was lined by trees and quiet. Nobody else lived out here, most of the houses sat empty but for a few. One had been too hasty with houses, there weren't enough Victors to fill them.
It was fucking creepy.
He didn't have anywhere else to go through, not since his father had died and his mom had already left for her next mission. The house had rolled over to the new tenants on the first and just like that, he'd lost his home. He barely even registered the weird feeling that had brought, he'd gotten used to loss.
He'd always been curious of Opal when he'd been little. Val had collected newspaper clippings about her and her mysterious child she kept hidden away. When his mom was away for long months on a mission and the other kids got mean, he'd think about Opal and Ky in their big Victor house. His dad worked nights so he'd have to be quiet during the door and he's often be all alone after dark.
When he felt lonely, he'd take all the clippings out and arrange them on the floor at his feet.
Val had forgotten about that. He'd found the clippings in the bottom of a drawer when he and his mom had been cleaning out the house the other day and he'd tossed them out. Their place had been full of a good amount of junk, stuff his father had collected over the years and never gotten rid of. At the end of all things, he hadn't needed any of it.
Val sighed and shouldered his bag before walking into Victor's Village. He felt a chill on the back of his neck as if he were being watched. Maybe that was just knowing he didn't belong there. He felt like he was trespassing.
All he really had to prove himself as family was his mom's letter and the camera she'd given him when he was six, if that was proof at all. Anyone in their right mind would turn him away, letter or not, it could be forged. It would be better to save himself the embarrassment and just go get a part-time job or something. Maybe he could just make a bed from the safety mats at his training centre.
Opal was likely to take one look at him and send him away. He hardly looked like his mom, barely looked like his dad. Once, just once, his dad had been drunk and he'd just looked at Val and said, so damn quiet, "Bet you're not even mine."
Maybe he was right.
But his dad hadn't been a bad man, he'd just had bad luck.
Val walked until he reached the house with a golden plaque reading 'Earnest'. It felt odd to see his own last name there, unearned. Actually it kind of made his skin crawl, as if it were an omen.
"Get a hold of yourself, asshole," he muttered to himself and then before he could stop himself, he strode purposefully up the walk and pressed his finger against the buzzer.
If he was lucky, no one would be home and all he'd have to do was say he tried. The sound of approaching footsteps though promised confrontation and Val cursed his luck, probably inherited from his dad.
Well at least it might not be Opal, then he could just make an excuse and just leave, say he'd gotten lost or something, yeah.
That could work.