atmospheric argon — areto & bubby
Jun 9, 2021 14:00:53 GMT -5
Post by calla on Jun 9, 2021 14:00:53 GMT -5
A R E T O
The train makes her feel unsteady. A pair of Peacekeeps had ushered her inside when visitation ended, doors shutting behind them with an automated hiss. The gentle sound of the engine starting had made Areto jump, the purr being almost unnoticeable to the Keepers that were used to it.
But it ends up being smoother than sea travel, and it's weird to stand by the window and see the landscape of Four whip by without feeling the sway of inertia. She places her palm against the wall and feels the smoothness of the metal, cool despite the heat outside, with the slightest whisper of vibration.
The Keepers bring her partner into the car and she tries not to wince.
Bubby Caro. A boy from the mainland.
Something inside Areto raises its hackles, Lysippe's words echoing in her mind. She recalls the stories from the girls of the island and the towering mannish brutes that had plagued them. There's a reason men aren't allowed on their island, but it's more for their safety than the Amazons'.
The Keepers leave them alone and Bubby's eyes are red from crying. He looks so much younger than he actually is. Areto tries to feel nothing, she really does. She tries to embody her mother and ignore this boy, but the longer he sits there sniffling, the more her heart seems to crack.
Aren't career children supposed to be ruthless? She's heard rumours of the mainland mentality and all of its pitfalls, but has yet to see it. This boy that sits crying in front of her hardly seems like a killer.
There's a convenient box of tissues on the table and Areto pulls one out, holding it out to Bubby without really looking at him.
"They won't want to see you cry." She says, and it's an olive branch, something they have in common. She's a nurturer, but she's a warrior first, and her guard refuses to lower.
She sits then, across from Bubby, and meets his eyes.
"You're not what I expected." She says bluntly, but not unkindly, "Haven't you been training for this?"
But it ends up being smoother than sea travel, and it's weird to stand by the window and see the landscape of Four whip by without feeling the sway of inertia. She places her palm against the wall and feels the smoothness of the metal, cool despite the heat outside, with the slightest whisper of vibration.
The Keepers bring her partner into the car and she tries not to wince.
Bubby Caro. A boy from the mainland.
Something inside Areto raises its hackles, Lysippe's words echoing in her mind. She recalls the stories from the girls of the island and the towering mannish brutes that had plagued them. There's a reason men aren't allowed on their island, but it's more for their safety than the Amazons'.
The Keepers leave them alone and Bubby's eyes are red from crying. He looks so much younger than he actually is. Areto tries to feel nothing, she really does. She tries to embody her mother and ignore this boy, but the longer he sits there sniffling, the more her heart seems to crack.
Aren't career children supposed to be ruthless? She's heard rumours of the mainland mentality and all of its pitfalls, but has yet to see it. This boy that sits crying in front of her hardly seems like a killer.
There's a convenient box of tissues on the table and Areto pulls one out, holding it out to Bubby without really looking at him.
"They won't want to see you cry." She says, and it's an olive branch, something they have in common. She's a nurturer, but she's a warrior first, and her guard refuses to lower.
She sits then, across from Bubby, and meets his eyes.
"You're not what I expected." She says bluntly, but not unkindly, "Haven't you been training for this?"
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