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31_days2009-07-28 03:30 pm
seta-suzume.livejournal.com) wrote in 31_days2009-07-28 03:30 pm
[July 28][Original] Kojay in the Reeds
Title: Kojay in the Reeds
Day/Theme: July 28, 2009 "loneliness is anger given a better name"
Series: Original
Character/Pairing: Kojay, Bashir, Fado, etc.
Rating: G
The situation between Fado and Kojay seemed to have made some sort of progress, Bashir thought. Then he took another look at their cooly neutral expressions and amended that thought. Their situation had changed. There was no telling whether or not this change meant progress.
Instead of Kojay needling his unwanted guardian and Fado blithely responding to every barb Kojay could hurl at him with a nearly inhuman good humor, they were now ignoring each other. Honestly, Bashir had been beginning to find Fado's action as frustrating as Kojay's so he wasn't about to complain.
The region they were entering was dotted with small lakes and much of the ground was marshy inbetween and covered with river reeds. While some of the reeds were green and growing, many were dry and hollow and they rattled noisily against one another if bumped or shaken by the wind. Whenever the reeds grew particularly noisy Kojay would narrow his dark eyes and look around for the source of the racket. He was always tense, as though he were expecting a surprise attack at any moment or perhaps seeking the perfect opportunity to escape his unwanted companions. It was easy to see he was something of a social misfit. Just traveling with the others was hard for him.
"I hate these reeds."
What had made him chose to break the silence with that peculiar remark? In general he seemed to have no problem going miles without saying a word. Of course, during that time the others were usually filling the empty air with their own conversations. Now all he had been left with was the clenk clenk clenk clenk of the dry reeds. Bashir thought they sounded like the percussion section of an orchestra falling down the stairs.
"I kind of like 'em," Simcha countered honestly.
Kojay looked incredulous. "How can anyone like that racket?!" was what Bashir imagined he was thinking. The copper-skinned troublemaker shook his head and sighed. Maybe was he was still feeling uninterested in staring an altercation, or perhaps Fado was the only one he liked fighting with. In any case, he closed his mouth and the reeds rattled on.
Day/Theme: July 28, 2009 "loneliness is anger given a better name"
Series: Original
Character/Pairing: Kojay, Bashir, Fado, etc.
Rating: G
The situation between Fado and Kojay seemed to have made some sort of progress, Bashir thought. Then he took another look at their cooly neutral expressions and amended that thought. Their situation had changed. There was no telling whether or not this change meant progress.
Instead of Kojay needling his unwanted guardian and Fado blithely responding to every barb Kojay could hurl at him with a nearly inhuman good humor, they were now ignoring each other. Honestly, Bashir had been beginning to find Fado's action as frustrating as Kojay's so he wasn't about to complain.
The region they were entering was dotted with small lakes and much of the ground was marshy inbetween and covered with river reeds. While some of the reeds were green and growing, many were dry and hollow and they rattled noisily against one another if bumped or shaken by the wind. Whenever the reeds grew particularly noisy Kojay would narrow his dark eyes and look around for the source of the racket. He was always tense, as though he were expecting a surprise attack at any moment or perhaps seeking the perfect opportunity to escape his unwanted companions. It was easy to see he was something of a social misfit. Just traveling with the others was hard for him.
"I hate these reeds."
What had made him chose to break the silence with that peculiar remark? In general he seemed to have no problem going miles without saying a word. Of course, during that time the others were usually filling the empty air with their own conversations. Now all he had been left with was the clenk clenk clenk clenk of the dry reeds. Bashir thought they sounded like the percussion section of an orchestra falling down the stairs.
"I kind of like 'em," Simcha countered honestly.
Kojay looked incredulous. "How can anyone like that racket?!" was what Bashir imagined he was thinking. The copper-skinned troublemaker shook his head and sighed. Maybe was he was still feeling uninterested in staring an altercation, or perhaps Fado was the only one he liked fighting with. In any case, he closed his mouth and the reeds rattled on.