http://swollenfoot.livejournal.com/ (![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
swollenfoot.livejournal.com) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
31_days2005-09-16 10:16 pm
swollenfoot.livejournal.com) wrote in 31_days2005-09-16 10:16 pm
[Sept 16] [original] Sai's father
Title: Sai's father
Day/Theme: Sept 16 / Older ghosts
Series: original (characters of an old unfinished story)
Character/Pairing: Sai, Cherise
Rating: G
20:11
The sun was a red disc strung out among the trees. Vaguely decipherable was its backdrop of grubby gray behind the thickness of the leaves and the low-lying fog. Well above the hazy ground, the sky brightened to a subdued sort of peach, a rather sad color that went well with the damp, chilly morning.
“Is it usually like this here?” she asked quietly, glancing beside her. “Sai?”
The tall young man appeared, seemingly taking shape from the thick fog itself. “More or less,” he answered.
She shivered.
“Sorry. I....don’t get cold; I forgot to warn you.”
They began to walk uphill, and warming up to the task, she no longer felt uncomfortably chilled, except when the wind whispered and the iciness of its breath sent horrid little tickles up her spine. Pine trees and their shadows hulked on both sides of their path, but their endless presence gave her mixed feelings. Sometimes, they felt protective, sometimes merely lonely. But sometimes, too... Sometimes, she wanted to run in horror at the maleficence some trees exuded. Those trees didn’t look any different from the others, but they felt evil.
She, meanwhile, felt stupid thinking all these things.
“Hey,” she spoke, if only to fill the air with something else. “Is this really your home? It’s huge. I mean the ground’s so big. We’ve been walking for ten minutes now.”
Sai grinned at her. “You think I’m pulling your leg?”
She growled at him, her brown hair impossibly bristling in her irritation. “You don’t have time to fool around.”
His smile vanished. “It’s not exactly what you’d call a home.”
“I can’t believe it.” She peered at him suspiciously, at the boy she found a month ago with his chest blue with bruises and his clothes torn and bloody. “You were a rich kid. Why were you pushing drugs then?”
“It’s not exactly what you’d call a home,” he repeated coldly.
She was silent as they trekked across a few wet yards of well-trimmed lawn. “So this is your father’s house.”
“Yeah.”
“I see.”
Sai looked at her speculatively, then shook his head, chuckling.
“What is it this time?” she snapped. The tingly feeling still ran up and down her spine now and then, making her irritable. And there seemed to be figures walking among the trees. But then, the wind still blew, as well, and even the sturdy pine trees shifted, their shadows seemingly swirling with the fog.
“You’re so sheltered, kid,” Sai said almost disbelievingly. “You’ve never been around this area at all? Never heard of it?”
“Well, it’s supposed to be the affluent area of the metro,” she said defensively. “What else is there to know? My social standing doesn’t give me reason to go gallivanting in these hills.”
“It’s blood money, Ma-che,” he murmured. “All of it.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“These woods are haunted by the victims of my ancestors.”
She rolled her eyes. “From which horror movie did you rip that off?”
“You barely see them. They’ve faded with time.”
Uneasily, she looked around again. The swirling figures were no longer there, and standing among the trees were only rare shafts of sunlight, a little bit more yellow in color, now that the sun was a bit higher in the horizon. “There are others... here?”
He nodded. “Remember the old fortune teller? She said, I needed to finish my business here, or else I’ll linger and I’ll forget. Then eventually... I’ll fade, but never totally disappear.”
The girl struggled with this. She was a rational person, a stubborn person. What he was saying was stupid, beyond ridiculous.
But he was there, wasn’t he?
“Why can’t I see them?” she demanded.
“I told you,” Sai said, gazing up the big house that loomed up before them. “They’re older than me.”
“It doesn’t work like that always,” she reasoned. “What about those famous ghost stories from all over the world?”
“Yeah, I think something else makes them persist. Who knows? I’m kinda new at this.” He grinned at her again.
“What if he doesn’t believe me?”
“You’re a persuasive kid. You can do it.”
Helplessly, she squared her shoulders. She stepped before the intimidating door and rang the bell.
“That wasn’t so bad.” Sai was chuckling in her ear. “We’re a team. Sai and the Icy Sepulcher.”
“Shut up,” she hissed, as the front door open.
The man who opened the door was middle-aged, but his resemblance to Sai was unmistakable.
She cleared her throat. “Good morning, sir. Um, is this the residence of Castor Sy?” she asked politely. Of course, she already knew the answer. “My name is Cherise Sepulcherero. I’m a friend of his.”
“Castor lives with his mother,” the man answered. “You must have gotten the wrong address.”
Cherise glanced behind her for help. Her companion was nowhere in sight. She swore mentally.
The man was looking at her, expressionless. “I can give you the address to her mother’s, if you want,” he offered dully.
She lifted her head and looked straight at the man’s eyes—same as Sai’s but different. It was then she understood what Sai meant by older ghosts, those that have lost hope. There were those spirits that lingered without purpose, and it was because of this she couldn’t see them. Ironically, some of these so-called older ghosts were actually still alive, people you couldn’t strictly call living because of how they treated life. Her head pounded. If she thought more about such irrational things, she’ll have an apoplexy.
“Ah, Mr. Sy?” she said suddenly. “I’m actually not here by mistake. You see, Sai needs your help.”
Impossible as it sounded, she was going to help Sai. This was her new project, to make sure Sai eluded the fate of the older ghosts, and Cherise Sepulcherero never delivered anything less than perfect. She swallowed hard, braced her jaws, and determinedly stepped into the mansion’s threshold.
~21:49
Day/Theme: Sept 16 / Older ghosts
Series: original (characters of an old unfinished story)
Character/Pairing: Sai, Cherise
Rating: G
20:11
The sun was a red disc strung out among the trees. Vaguely decipherable was its backdrop of grubby gray behind the thickness of the leaves and the low-lying fog. Well above the hazy ground, the sky brightened to a subdued sort of peach, a rather sad color that went well with the damp, chilly morning.
“Is it usually like this here?” she asked quietly, glancing beside her. “Sai?”
The tall young man appeared, seemingly taking shape from the thick fog itself. “More or less,” he answered.
She shivered.
“Sorry. I....don’t get cold; I forgot to warn you.”
They began to walk uphill, and warming up to the task, she no longer felt uncomfortably chilled, except when the wind whispered and the iciness of its breath sent horrid little tickles up her spine. Pine trees and their shadows hulked on both sides of their path, but their endless presence gave her mixed feelings. Sometimes, they felt protective, sometimes merely lonely. But sometimes, too... Sometimes, she wanted to run in horror at the maleficence some trees exuded. Those trees didn’t look any different from the others, but they felt evil.
She, meanwhile, felt stupid thinking all these things.
“Hey,” she spoke, if only to fill the air with something else. “Is this really your home? It’s huge. I mean the ground’s so big. We’ve been walking for ten minutes now.”
Sai grinned at her. “You think I’m pulling your leg?”
She growled at him, her brown hair impossibly bristling in her irritation. “You don’t have time to fool around.”
His smile vanished. “It’s not exactly what you’d call a home.”
“I can’t believe it.” She peered at him suspiciously, at the boy she found a month ago with his chest blue with bruises and his clothes torn and bloody. “You were a rich kid. Why were you pushing drugs then?”
“It’s not exactly what you’d call a home,” he repeated coldly.
She was silent as they trekked across a few wet yards of well-trimmed lawn. “So this is your father’s house.”
“Yeah.”
“I see.”
Sai looked at her speculatively, then shook his head, chuckling.
“What is it this time?” she snapped. The tingly feeling still ran up and down her spine now and then, making her irritable. And there seemed to be figures walking among the trees. But then, the wind still blew, as well, and even the sturdy pine trees shifted, their shadows seemingly swirling with the fog.
“You’re so sheltered, kid,” Sai said almost disbelievingly. “You’ve never been around this area at all? Never heard of it?”
“Well, it’s supposed to be the affluent area of the metro,” she said defensively. “What else is there to know? My social standing doesn’t give me reason to go gallivanting in these hills.”
“It’s blood money, Ma-che,” he murmured. “All of it.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“These woods are haunted by the victims of my ancestors.”
She rolled her eyes. “From which horror movie did you rip that off?”
“You barely see them. They’ve faded with time.”
Uneasily, she looked around again. The swirling figures were no longer there, and standing among the trees were only rare shafts of sunlight, a little bit more yellow in color, now that the sun was a bit higher in the horizon. “There are others... here?”
He nodded. “Remember the old fortune teller? She said, I needed to finish my business here, or else I’ll linger and I’ll forget. Then eventually... I’ll fade, but never totally disappear.”
The girl struggled with this. She was a rational person, a stubborn person. What he was saying was stupid, beyond ridiculous.
But he was there, wasn’t he?
“Why can’t I see them?” she demanded.
“I told you,” Sai said, gazing up the big house that loomed up before them. “They’re older than me.”
“It doesn’t work like that always,” she reasoned. “What about those famous ghost stories from all over the world?”
“Yeah, I think something else makes them persist. Who knows? I’m kinda new at this.” He grinned at her again.
“What if he doesn’t believe me?”
“You’re a persuasive kid. You can do it.”
Helplessly, she squared her shoulders. She stepped before the intimidating door and rang the bell.
“That wasn’t so bad.” Sai was chuckling in her ear. “We’re a team. Sai and the Icy Sepulcher.”
“Shut up,” she hissed, as the front door open.
The man who opened the door was middle-aged, but his resemblance to Sai was unmistakable.
She cleared her throat. “Good morning, sir. Um, is this the residence of Castor Sy?” she asked politely. Of course, she already knew the answer. “My name is Cherise Sepulcherero. I’m a friend of his.”
“Castor lives with his mother,” the man answered. “You must have gotten the wrong address.”
Cherise glanced behind her for help. Her companion was nowhere in sight. She swore mentally.
The man was looking at her, expressionless. “I can give you the address to her mother’s, if you want,” he offered dully.
She lifted her head and looked straight at the man’s eyes—same as Sai’s but different. It was then she understood what Sai meant by older ghosts, those that have lost hope. There were those spirits that lingered without purpose, and it was because of this she couldn’t see them. Ironically, some of these so-called older ghosts were actually still alive, people you couldn’t strictly call living because of how they treated life. Her head pounded. If she thought more about such irrational things, she’ll have an apoplexy.
“Ah, Mr. Sy?” she said suddenly. “I’m actually not here by mistake. You see, Sai needs your help.”
Impossible as it sounded, she was going to help Sai. This was her new project, to make sure Sai eluded the fate of the older ghosts, and Cherise Sepulcherero never delivered anything less than perfect. She swallowed hard, braced her jaws, and determinedly stepped into the mansion’s threshold.
~21:49