lex parsim[o]niae*

[i a h]

Monday was less economic with his time than the average scrounge. He wandered like each step was an inconsequential act – wandering and wandering and squandering in a gypsy paradigm. Isangelous and irrefutable, he stole from the rich their time and gave to the poor his own.

The boy was fascinated by the trials of the young and miserable as they wept under bridges of stone with radiant eyes and chased the tails of dreams into the dawn. He listened to the empty sisters and brothers and mothers and fathers and sons and daughters as they vomited words and couldn't stop. Talking, talking, and talking. Hoarding their pain. And when his time was spent, walking, walking, and walking. He roved the spinning globe with a sphingine smile.

There was a romance to his own story which he rehearsed, perfected by rote repetition in his mind, but never told for the sake of its romance. By Occam's razor, he told himself that he was simple and that his friends got what they saw. He told himself that Simplicity is the ultimate sophistication.** Oh, how he answered questions to the splayed bodies in the dark, their ears open to the dead of night. He was homeless, because he didn't have a home. He was alone, because he had no company. He was a son, because he had a father.

By himself, standing at the yawning mouth of the cave, peering in as if it was the great void Chaos at the beginning of the Grecian universe, the premonition of spring caressed him with a breeze. The afternoon sun elucidated his figure against the rock.

*the law of parsimony. Occam's razor. "entities must not be multiplied beyond necessity"
** Leonardo da Vinci

//lols. i can't promise that i'll respond quickly in this thread, but i wanted to write something just now. forgive the... hmm... ambiguity? i'm bad at explaining.//

[kuma]

(: I don't mind the wait if you don't mind me joining

She held herself rigid, looking at him with narrowed eyes, which glowed from within her dusky face like golden moons, and a thin, skeptical mouth turned downward. Her willowy form, half-hidden in the gloomy cavern, had not yet been seen, or if it had, he'd made no gesture that would indicate his knowledge. Like a slender statue, he stood just on the threshold of the cave, unmoving except for the exhale of his breath and the beat of his heart. She also kept still, though not for fear of discovery, but because she had no reason to move. He'd not entered, had not spoken. She returned his silence, and regarded him warily.

Who he was and his purpose for standing there, she had no inclination to guess. She saw, instead, a spindly creature, defined by narrow lines and sharp eyes, and she did not like him; though it was not for his own qualities, but because she was loathe to have company.

She rose, and slipped quietly toward him until her face was harshly lit by the bright sunlight. She was a slim girl with thick brown fur and glittering dark eyes, but thin and fading scars on her lean, sculptured face said that she was not inexperienced nor afraid. She stared at him coldly, and said, "You are not welcome here. What do you want?" Her voice was cracked and dry, like the desert lands of her birth. She had not forgotten the brittle heat, the nervous winds that moved the sandy plains like vast, golden oceans, and the cool, clear springs that were more precious than all the treasures of the world; she'd not forgotten that land, but she did not pine for it. Just as she did not revere this bountiful oasis, with frigid snows and vaulting mountains, despite its plentiful game and cold water. Like him, she was a transient, a vagabond, no home and no company, which was just as she wanted it. He could keep his time, if only he left hers alone.

[i a h]

ooc: looks like we got two desert wolves on our handssss

Monday, luculent Anubis of the undulating dunes, kept still as the girl drew forward. She was dark and scalloped with an attitude he could call spunky or devil-headed. A pair of eyes and ears. A set of teeth. A bag of bones. The sun disgorged clarity on her scars, and his eyes skimmed the old wounds. He wondered if she would notice the fresh gash, almost a foot long, across his chest. The healing tissue was still dark and puckered with scabs.

A ∩ B -- they weren't so different. His mind was wound in set theory and meta-theoretical principals, and his body was motivated by not just wanderlust but belligerence. Unsurprisingly, as he looked at her face, insensitive and cold as his, he felt his mind roll with the memory of Demon. He would recreate the dance he tangoed with that woman: he would twirl this damsel around and sweep her off her feet (romantically, of course!) and onto her knees. Court her into a painful submission then make her happily recumbent. What do you want? with the tone of a true bitch. It made him want to hear her pleasurably whimper his name. Vulnerable and petulant, just as he liked.

“What a hello,” he countered brazenly. The sun made him squint as he spoke, and his small ivory teeth glinted with each vowel. His dominant posture rivaled hers.

[karamazov]

"Seems there is manifesting affection between you two.."

The voice who spoke these words were heard, a somewhat sharp tone, echoing faintly throughout the large orifice that was the entrance to one of the caves within the vicinity.

There was indeed, a third party that was observing the aggressive exchanging of words going on between the two abrasive individuals.
The grinding of flawlessly arranged teeth, meant to forge into a half-hearted grin could be heard by the ears gifted with great audible sense.









If every single living, breathing, feeling, entity who treaded the soils of this earth was able to feel emotion within a short distance, they would have felt the content that radiated off the grin that was being portrayed in the obscurity.

[kuma]

(yess :D.. sorry for the wait)

She did not answer, but stood studying him silently.

The laceration on his chest spanned darkly before her eyes, like a crusted ornament long since disposed of luster. It was his badge to prove he could survive pain. Perhaps he thrived on it. Her sulky eyes searched his face, looking for an answer; but his motives remained irritatingly evasive, unreadable, like shadows in the night. His cold, intense eyes unnerved her.

Yet she did not need to understand why he was here to understand what he wanted. His lips hitched over slick teeth as he spoke, and he stood boldly erect, composed of smug superiority. Did she smell the corrosive hint of musk? Did his muscles ripple indulgently to some fanciful thought? Or was she paranoid? Her eyes narrowed and her jaws quivered. They stood contested in a match of wills. She would lose.

But a third voice made her falter. A trap? she thought, but the slender boy before her did not seem to be one who had accomplices - or did she mistake him? Slowly, she looked away; but kept him firmly fixed in her mind, never forgetting he stood there. She sought out the interloper with her eyes and nose, but saw and smelled no one. Yet she still felt as though she was being watched, and she wondered why the quality of the unknown stare was like a whimsical smile: shadowy and amused.

She said nothing.

[i a h]

Demon had surpassed Monday in height when they met: the puissant wariorress versus the growing child. She was versed in carnage and learned in pain, but the teenaged boy, rambunctious as they come, challenged her with his sharp tongue to face him with sharp teeth. This thin girl with a cold mouth and glacial, appraising stare didn't perturb him after that encounter.

The girl failed as an interlocutor, not taking her turn to speak after him. He regarded her slyly, trying to notice if her body trembled or jaw clenched, his eyes glittering auspiciously. Monday's sardonic self was clearly aroused by her unfriendliness, and now he fed on the silence.

And then for a moment, he deflated, faltered by the sudden interruption.

Seems there is manifesting affection between you two, the shadows spoke. Iah was admittedly startled by the presence that he hadn't noticed and still couldn't detect. Darkness mocked them, yet he smirked, delighted and perhaps a bid madly (though he wasn't crazy but rather excitable). He shifted his weight from foot to foot, pawing the ground like an antsy horse, and realizing his odd excitement at the thickening plot, he stopped his fidgeting.

Though he smiled wider and less deviously than before. “Three's a party,” and his voice was whetted into a keen invitation.


//eh, not good. will do better next time.//