It’s been
200 years.
Chapter
Three
A/N: Okay, I
fixed the glaring mistake Tempest Dynasty, I’m so dense at times
>_<
~~~~~
#Millia
It was a
cold morning.
I didn’t
even want to get out of bed. Hell, It wasn’t even my bed… How did I get into
the bed anyway? Arrg…
The mission
requires your full attention, Assassin Rage, arise from your sleep and face it.
I cracked
an eye open and slowly sat up, my legs sunken into the cushion beneath me. I
stretched lazily and smiled when my hair prickled then smoothed over my
shoulder like an animal seeking warmth.
It
practically was.
Sitting up
was the easy part, actually waking up was the hard part. I stepped into
the bathroom and washed my face –the water was cold, dammit. Why doesn’t Sol
use a heater?
I sighed
and went into the kitchen, grabbing myself a mug and disposing two tea spoons
of instant coffee into it. I sat the mug down when I realized I haven’t
prepared any hot water. With a curse, I grabbed the kettle and poured water
into it before connecting the wire and pushing the ‘on’ switch.
The rack
was cold when I leaned on it, but it was manageable compared the floor under my
bare feet.
“Rage.” I looked up to the man who just entered, looking like
he needed coffee himself.
“Badguy.” I greeted with a slight nod and passed my fingers
through my hair, it had gotten suddenly itchy for no obvious reason.
Sol’s
light-blue eyes studied the heating kettle before motioning to it with a gloved
hand, “Coffee?”
I nodded
–again- and slunk down to the floor, I was too darn tired to wait this long
while standing on my pained feet, seeing as I would do more walking around
later in the day.
“You
shouldn’t walk around in this.” I glanced up to see him jerking a thumb my
direction. looking down, I realized that he was
talking about my dress.
Or what's
left of it anyway…
The edges
were worn out and the black hem torn in a disgraceful way. what
was I supposed to do? I wasn’t going to sleep in a new dress, let alone the only
dress I have.
“You don’t own
me.” I voiced quietly. The kettle turned off, indicating that the water had
reached its boiling point.
“No I
don’t.” he opened a cabinet and reached in, but stopped midway when he realized
that the object he needed wasn’t there. “My mug…” he scanned the kitchen
briskly before his eyes landed on my morning dose.
In a flash,
I was there to hold it to myself protectively, “Mine.”
His eyes
darkened, although already shaded by the all-time-present head-protector. “Says
who?” he advanced and held the mug, but did not pull. Oh, God. His hands are
so big!
Suddenly
angry, I scowled at him and my hair prickled up into tiny needles, “Me. Now I
need my dose, if you don’t mind.”
His brows
creased, “You willing to fight for that?”
“Yeah,” I
shifted my weight, still holding on. “But I’d rather not.”
Sol’s eyes
scanned me for a moment before his expression softened and he grabbed a paper
cup from the cupboard. He studied me as he poured coffee into his cup, and
watched me fill my mug with hot water over the rim of his cup.
I need to
get away from his gaze, its driving my hair insane.
I walked
over to the living room and sat on the couch, wondering how on earth was I
going to face Jam with the same dress as yesterday? I was lucky enough to have
the pink Apron yesterday.
Sol walked
over and sat besides me, he turned the TV on, started
sipping his coffee, and decided on a random music channel. “So, changed?” he
asked quietly.
“What?”
Change what, Sol?
“Clothes.” He continued to sip his coffee calmly.
I looked
down at my drink and touched the rim with my lower lip, “No.” I don’t have any
clothes to wear anyway. “I should buy some.” When I get my first paycheck, IF
Jam liked me. I had left my whole life behind when I left the collapsing
Bureau, including my clothes- which were my only possession.
He looked
at me strangely, then.
“What?” I
took a sip out of my coffee, and flinched when it scalded my lips.
Sol only
jerked a thumb behind him and I looked back, two bags have been placed near the
door, ones I haven’t seen when I walked out to get coffee. “For
me?” I corked a brow and watched him nod silently.
I placed
the mug on the coffee table and went to check out what was in the bags out of
curiosity.
The first bag
had a few shirts crumpled inside, along with a single white denim pants. The
other bag had two pairs of shoes, a hair brush and a bottle of perfume.
Why all
this?
I put my
hands on my hips and watched as he sipped his coffee in silence, watching the
muted music channel. “What's the gig?”
His spiky
brown hair shook when he turned around partially to glance at me, “No gig, you
dress and go.”
Why was he
speaking like a machine?
I stood
next to him and grabbed my mug, only to see that it was missing about half its
contents. “Okay, what did you do that for?”
He smirked
for an instant, then got up for a refill, standing his full 6’ something and
looking down at me. It was only then that I had a good look at his eyes, steel
blue with just a little hint of grayish brown.
And tons of misery.
“Move.”
I realized
then that I was in his way, but instead of moving to allow him a path, I just
poured whatever was left in my mug into his cup.
He looked
down at the newly half-filled cup and then looked at me before looking back at
his cup again.
Confused, Sol?
“I don’t
want it if you want it.” I said simply before turning around, attempting to
leave.
“Me
neither.”
I walked
over to the bags and as I opened the bedroom door, I heard him put his cup down
and rise the volume.
~~~~
“Hurry up!
This is for table nine!” Jam ordered in her high-pitched voice. “You are slow!”
she joined her thin brows in displeasure.
I sighed
quietly and balanced the trays in my hands. I definitely should get a better
job…
I placed
one tray of beverages to a suspicious-looking group. One of them –he had a
paper bag on his head- grabbed a glass and tipped it to the other guy’s glass,
the other guy grinned. That was when I realized that he was actually giving me his
back, but with his head facing the table.
I turned
around and served table nine and tried to ignore the way my hair shivered and
crawled up my neck.
“Hello miss
moving-hair!” May greeted me as I placed her plate in front of her.
“Hello.” I
greeted back and noticed that they were all here, although missing a black-clad
flirt. Thank goodness.
“Umm, what was
your name again?” the pretty girl with blue pigtails peeked at me from behind
the curtain of her blue hair shyly.
I smiled
politely and served her curry, “Millia Rage.”
The
orange-hat girl grinned, “You forget quickly, Dizzy-chan!”
after a spoonful of her rice, she pointed with her spoon behind me and noted,
“And There’s my sweet Johnny-Kun!”
My hair
shook only seconds before a large, fingerless-gloved hand rested at my
shoulder. “Well, well, who do we have here? Who is your friend May?”
I angled my
head only slightly to look at the ‘sweet Johnny’. I was met with a huge grin,
followed by a finely shaped nose and round dark sunglasses. “May I help you?” I
pushed his hand off my shoulder.
Only to
have it rest on my hip.
“Why yes!
I’d love it if you helped me!” he leaned down so that he was at eye level with
me. “What's your name, Darling?”
“Millia.” I took two steps away and fought the urge to rub at
my hip. “Same name as yesterday.”
“SRUVICE with a SMILE!” Jam shrieked into my ear before she puppy-faced to the pirate and batted her eyelashes. “The usual, Johnny?”
He grinned
and bent down enough to whisper something into her ear.
Jam blushed
and pranced to the kitchen, humming a merry tune. I rolled my eyes and followed
her.
This will
be a long day.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
#Sol
I yawned
and turned the TV off. My daily show was over, not that I care what the story
is. I only watch it out of boredom and the lack of anything better to watch
daily.
Living 200
years can never be good to you, if you know what I mean.
*Notification:
Stomach requires nourishment.
Hungry would have
been much easier…
I stretched
and got up, popping my neck and lighting a cigarette. Opening the fridge, I
grabbed a beer and shut the fridge carelessly. I popped open the bottle and
then went out to get the morning paper.
~~~~~~
Noontime. Almost time to get dinner from Jam’s.
The truth
is, I hate
Almost
always, anyway.
I stubbed
the remaining head of my tenth cigarette off and then grabbed my Fuuenken.
The street
was crowded as usual, people coming back from work, or going to their nightly
shift. Teenagers looking for trouble on the streets and homeless hobos looking
for a place to stay the night.
I pushed
the double doors and was met with the familiar atmosphere of sounds and
visions.
*Recording
of day 245 of year 206. 1-5-2176.
*Location: Jam’s
*Time: 4:34
*Task: Find Millia Rage.
There she
was, weaving through the crowd of pirates and avoiding a certain Johnny’s stray
hand.
“Che…” I moved over to one of the many empty tables and
seated myself as comfortably as the wooden chair allowed.
Jam pranced
over to me and grinned widely, “Sol-Sol! What can I getcha?”
I glared at
her from beneath the headband and lightened a cigarette. “Nothing.”
Her grin
faltered and she put her hands on her hips, “Sol-Sol, please. No Smoking and
you have to order something!”
I shook my
hand in annoyance, “Water.”
She pouted
but went over to fetch my order.
I let loose
a thin string of smoke before I realized the pair of eyes staring at me.
“Yes?”
“What are
you doing here?” Rage shifted her weight and placed the tip of her pen over the
pad, preparing to take my order.
“Smoking.”
I studied her face as she pressed her lips in a straight annoyed line.
“Want me to
get you something?” she rested her hip to the hard wood of the table and fixed
me with a long studying gaze.
“What do you
want to have for dinner?” After all, we will be having dinner at my place
tonight. Not that she has a place.
“Me?” she
gave a cold unbelieving face. “Why?”
I gave a
one-shoulder shrug and exhaled another line of white smoke.
She looked
around the restaurant, almost empty but a few Jellyfish pirates enjoying the
last of their meal. Rage seated herself in front of me and placed her pen and pad
on the table. “Jam offered me a room at her apartment.” She started, absently
braiding her hair. “I’ll be out of you hair starting tonight.” She glanced up
quickly before looking back down at the table. “Thank you very much for taking
me in with you.”
Damn, and
here I was hoping for a settled daily schedule with somebody. Anybody.
“Che…” I leaned back and lifted an ankle over one knee.
Her hair
kept slipping form her fingers. “I’m sorry if I bothered you.” She started to
get up.
If Jam ever
kicks you out, call me… I wanted to say, but changed my mind. It wouldn’t
really do to let her know how much I’m in need of company.
Anybody’
company.
She took
two steps back before turning around completely. Was she waiting for me to say
something? “Rage.”
She stopped
and turned around, her hair flying around her face.
“Anything
that doesn’t have shrimp. To go.” I lit another cigarette and crossed my ankles
on top of the table.
…
“Excuse me,
Sir.” I opened my eyes only to see a pair of blood red ones regarding me. “You
dropped your sword!” I looked down to see my fire seal held in her small white
hands.
I
definitely fought a smile when I took my treasured swords and looked back up at
her. “Thanks.”
She giggled
shyly and put her hands on the table, “Um, does it really make fire?”
I put my
ankles on the floor and touched the cold metal. “Yeah, but I don’t want to set
fire to this place.”
She smiled
and her eyes shone, “Yeah, Jam-chan wouldn’t like it
if you did!” she looked at the table of her friends and waved back to them, her
wings swaying behind her, “Nice talking to you! I have to go now!”
I nodded
and watched her go.
They said
she was only three years old…
*ID: Dizzy_
Origin:
Unknown_
State:
Gear_
Gender:
Female_
Special
ability: Necro and Undine_
Age:
Human(19) Gear(3) _
I stretched
and sighed before I stood up and stubbed the cigarette butt into the table.
Millia cleared her throat behind me and I turned around to look down at her.
“Your
dinner, Sir.” She offered me the bag and I took it from her lazily. “If you
have any trouble, you know where I live.” Why I was saying that to her was
beyond me. Male human instincts kicking in, dammit.
“Yes, thank
you.” She nodded and continued to look at the floor, as if she wanted to say
something but couldn’t.
“What?” I
took a step back and glanced at Dizzy laughing at a stunt one of the pirates
did.
“Nothing.”
She gave me a half-smile and then turned around to attend the only customers
left.
The sky
must have ripped apart or something when I was inside the restaurant. how did
my ears not catch the sound of rain and thunder? Damn missing files, they
always delete themselves when I go out.
I did the
only thing I could right now.
Run home.
I was practically
wearing puddles on my feet, my shoes squished when I closed the door behind me
and looked disgustedly at my shirt. Well, so much for a clean shirt day, and I
thought I’d be lucky enough to not do laundry.
Damn…
After
changing into a pair of sweat pants and an old shirt, I adjusted my headband
and sat down in front of the TV to watch the same old lame programs.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Fredrick!
What do you think you are doing?”
“Ahh, Eating?”
“Eating
what?” *taps foot*
“Something
very delicious…”
“Why?”
“Cause I’m
hungry and doctors need their meals?”
“No. you
are eating my charity! I’m supposed to give that to people who are needing!”
“But its
too yummy to waste on other people!” think think,
“The people at the lab are starving too! So I’m just gonna
go give it to’em!”
“Fredrick
come back here! Fredrick!”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I woke up
with a taste of rice cakes in my mouth. Why the hell was I dreaming of those
times? I thought I deleted all those damned files already.
Great, just
great. Some files delete themselves when I need them and others restore
themselves after I delete them myself…
Must be a
damned virus…
The door
was knocked, an urgent knock at that. I glanced at the clock and frowned when I
saw the little neon numbers.
3:35
“What?” I
rubbed my eyes and pushed my headband off my brows.
“It’s… me…”
Analyzing
voice sample…
Processing….
-Millia
Rage,
Fema-
I frowned
and flung the door open, light from the hallway stinging my eyes.
She looked miserable,
her hair clung to her face and cheeks and her clothes stuck to her body in wet
tangles. She was probably walking in the rain.
“You look
like death warmed over…” she only hung her head. “In a microwave.”
“Can I talk
to you?” she looked up and I realized that her eyes were rimmed in red.
“There are
phones.” I sneered and allowed her in. my threshold became wet again.
She took a
few deep breaths but didn’t say anything.
Sleep.exe
is about to activate. Allow?
No.
I rubbed my
temple and knew how annoying this program could become. “Rage, if you don’t
want anything I’ll just leave you to get comfortable while I sleep.”
I glanced
at the clock and then to her, then at the clock again.
“The
restaurant burned down.” She looked up at me, “To ashes.”
I groaned,
“Again? What does that woman cook with, petrol?” I pulled the headband over my
eyes and dropped into the couch. “Have a seat.”
She shook
her head, her tangled soggy hair shaking. “I just came to tell you that there
will probably be investigations. You are the first on the list.”
Sleep.exe
is about to activate. Allow? N
“Really?
I’m honored.”
I heard her
sigh before I heard the shuffling of her shoes on the now-wet carpet.
Sleep.exe
is about to activate. Allow? N
“Um, do you
happen to have a spare umbrella?”
Sleep.exe
is about to activate. Allow?
“No
dammit!” I sat up and pushed the metallic band of my eyes before rubbing my
cheeks and eyes.
“I’m
sorry.” She pushed back her hair and turned around to leave.
“No, no I
don’t have an umbrella.” I shook my head. Great, now I hurt her feelings. I
hate it when I hurt a females’ feeling, she gets all mushy…. “Hey, Rage.”
she paused
with her hand on the doorknob.
Sleep.exe
is about to activate. Allow? N
I cant
believe I’m asking this. “Uh, do you have anywhere to stay?”
“Jam’s.
I’ll take care of myself tomorrow.” She started to leave.
Words died
in my throat before they could get out with the sound of the shutting door.
Damn…
Sleep.exe
is about to activate. Allow?
I sighed
and cursed.
Yes.
Dammit.
End of
chapter three.
A/N: yes I do
hate Jam, with a passion. She’s loud…