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Post by Lexxi on Mar 16, 2009 5:36:20 GMT -5
Whispering Rock was filled with a calm silence that morning. The kind of silence only interrupted by the chirp of birds and the chatter of squirrels. The sun was still low over the mountain tops in the distance and the air was filled with the chill of the quickly fading night, but one could feel the temperature rising steadily around them. Summer had reawakened to shake the dew from the petals of flowers opening amongst the grass and set a drowsy haze for all those not yet awake. A single squirrel wandered about the parking lot quietly; flittering from car to car as if trying to remain unseen by something. Then it stopped and raised its head a bit to sniff the air with its tail twitching apprehensively. Suddenly, as if from nowhere, a large red orb fell from the sky and, with a sharp squeak of surprise, the wild rodent fled back into the trees.
“Wrong, wrong, wrong!” Reno looked almost furious as, for the fourth time, the four colored balls fell to thegroundand rolled off in all directions; scattering for the ninth time that morning. Her voice echoed through the emptiness of the lonely clearing and came back nearly a hundred times to the young girl standing before her; staring at her feet in shame. Reno shook her head as she sputtered to herself. She never did that to Epona when she fell off her horse or Atlanta when she fell from the high wire, it was always Jacques who got the short end of the stick because she was the youngest. It wasn’t the first time she’d faced her snapping remarks at a simple mistake. It wasn’t the first time she’d received that horrible death glare when the balls came crashing back down upon her head. Jacques bit down upon her lower lip as her sister pointed a long, cold finger and quietly retrieved the balls and then turned. “When you actually have a little competence, come back and find me,” she spat.
Jacques sighed and quietly began to pick up her dispersed juggling balls. The green one, the blue one, the yellow one, the re- …. Where was the red one? Wandering a ways away from camp, she continued her search; reluctant to go back when and if she did find it. And there it was. Just a few feet ahead and over the large, looming fence. Jacques gave a tilt of her head as she eyed the barrier between herself and the bright red ball. The sign above read “Whispering Rock” but that hardly seemed like the kind of place that would need a giant fence around it. After all, as far as she knew, it was just a summer camp. A very exclusive summer camp, but what were they doing with the kids? Keeping them prisoner? She sighed. There was only one way to get the ball and that was to scale the mountain in front of her. Placing her hands and feet carefully, Jacques began the climb up and over the fence.
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Post by Kero on Mar 16, 2009 6:03:00 GMT -5
There was a saying in many cultures. Almost universal, it stated only something to the effect of ‘the early bird gets the worm.’ Yet, in all the places it was said, it was both loathed (for many people simply did not want to rise as early as it said to get what they needed to get done, done) and praised as a correct application to many situations in life. Was it not true that being early often yielded the best rewards? The spoils could be anything from freshest food at a restaurant, the highest grades, the best seat at a movie theater, being the youngest Psychonaut ever…
He always got a little hung up on that one.
However, it was not because he was a Psychonaut that Raz was exploring the perimeter of the camp at such an early hour. The sleep schedule was simply drilled into him. His entire family was early risers, and even though he was at camp, the habit didn’t leave him. It might have been the knowledge that his dad would still keep him on the family schedule, regardless of if he’d changed it over the summer, which tempered his decision. Nonetheless, everyone in the cabins beyond perhaps Oleander was still fast asleep by now, and it was a perfect opportunity for the young boy the have the run of the place, his feet bringing him wandering wherever he thought was useful.
Thus, it was when Jacques was halfway over the fence when he stopped by the red ball on the ground, bending to pick it up and glancing at her struggle, “Hey… is this yours?” curious about it, as well as any girl that looked like she’d just been practicing something or other with this kind of stuff, he gave her a measuring look, his green eyes sparkling a little with his curiosity. He hand’t really heard much of her sister yelling at her. He covered distance fast and had probably been to far away, not to mention that sound wasn’t carried very well in the misty air of morning, “…. You know that fence opens, right?”
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Post by Lexxi on Mar 16, 2009 6:15:23 GMT -5
There was a moment when Jacques swore that one of the squirrels was talking to her. Previously, she hadn’t been able to get them to leave her alone and somehow it wouldn’t have surprised her if they’d started talking. That kind of stuff happened in books all the time so why not in real life too? Some of them were based on real events after all. However, when she reached the top of the fence, she found that she was not looking down at a wiry little rodent, but rather a boy maybe just a bit older than her. He was no one she’d seen and no one she knew, but that was no surprise. What was a surprise was that he was talking to her and holding the ball she had been fighting tooth and nail to get to. For a few seconds, she looked him over and gave the slightest tilt of her head so that the two small braids on either side shifted and one hung down in her face. He was certainly an odd character. In fact, he looked somewhat like he was getting ready to go fly a plane, but she wouldn’t mention that. Who knew what the styles these days were?
When she’d finished taking in every aspect from the dark hair barely visible under the cap to the hand holding the ball, she frowned a little. This was not going to make Reno happy. Jacques opened her mouth as if to speak, but all that came out was a sudden yelp of surprise as she slipped from her perch and found herself tumbling back to earth. The impact was quick and sent a shooting pain through her, but was gone quickly. After all, she’d fallen down more than once in her life, it was no longer a big deal unless she fell and hit her head. Then again, her head seemed to belong solely to the juggling balls that constantly shot back down to knock her over. One day, she would show them. Jacques would teach them who was boss, but for now, she had to get one of them back. Sitting up, she quickly dusted herself off and adjusted her headband that had fallen over one of her eyes in her fall.
Once she was back together, she looked up at him with an embarrassed smile. “Well…that was too easy,” she stated to make up for her foolish attempt to scale a fence without even checking the door. Perhaps years of sneaking around had taught her that when a fence was open, there was nothing you wanted inside. Jacques stood and eyed the ball in his hand before pointing to it. “Can I have that?” [/size]
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Post by Kero on Mar 17, 2009 4:27:46 GMT -5
At the same time the girl had stopped to take stock of him, the green-eyed boy had simply stared up at her. She looked a little ridiculous, hanging from the top of the fence staring at him, but he wouldn’t mention that. Whoever she was, she wasn’t supposed to be here; he was fairly sure of that. She didn’t look psychic at all, though most people who were psychic didn't look it, as he'd learned in just the first day at camp. Still...
He hadn’t expected her to fall, and he snapped out of his thoughts the instant she did. The events too fast for him to have caught her before she was on the ground, all he could do was run up to the fence to see if she was okay, his eyes wide until she sat up. He breathed a sigh of releif when, with a quick look over, he determined that she looked fine, which was great; Raz still wasn’t quite sure about what he thought of the mysterious new camp doctor, and didn’t want to have to bring anyone to him until he’d figured out his opinion.
The ‘too easy’ comment had him cracking a smile, though, and he reached between the bars of the gate to hand her the red ball with no complaint whatsoever, “Heh, are you always so complicated?" teasing, his smile grew a bit, and he pushed his goggles up back to the proper place, as one side had started to fall down a bit when he'd run over, "My name’s Razputin, what’s yours?” It had been a long time since Raz had met someone who he was pretty sure wouldn’t know him, and secretly, he kind of relished the idea of being thought of as a normal kid. The irony of that didn’t really reach him, though; he was too busy trying to figure this girl out, the more pressing question about why she was out with multi-colored balls around the camp parking lot burning on his tongue.
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Post by Lexxi on Mar 17, 2009 5:34:03 GMT -5
Jacques quirked an eyebrow at the comment of her being complicated. Somehow, she knew he was ether being deeply sarcastic with her or he was just the type to joke around like most people did when they saw an strange girl falling flat on her face. Still, it was an interesting thought. Being complicated for her was like Reno being cute and cuddly. It had the hint of being possible somewhere in it, but would more than likely never happen. It made her smile though, her light curve of the lips very subtle compared to the way he did it. She could already deduce from the way he spoke and appeared that he was far more light hearted than the rest of the world and possibly a bit more friendly. Jacques could only hope…
When he asked her name, she looked a tad bit surprised; as she may have been uncertain of what to say for a moment. The last time someone had asked her name, he was drunk and Reno had chased him off. In fact, the majority of the time, Reno would interrupt before a greeting got to this part saying something about how relationships meant nothing when you were likely to never see them again. At the thought of this, Jacques felt her heart sink a bit, but didn’t let her smile fade. All good performers knew how to smile through the pain. “Jacques,” she replied as she took the ball and moved to put it into the folds of her sash with the others. Of course, this only served to give the others a chance to roll free; colors scattering around her until she was left only with the red one half out of her hand. She frowned in defeat and glared at them as they seemed to form an uneven around her in the grass. She was just happy she’d gotten to use balls instead of something that could actually run away…like doves.
“And if I’m complicated, I blame these stupid things..”
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Post by Kero on Mar 17, 2009 5:54:22 GMT -5
“Jacques…??” There was a moment in which the boy wondered if he was quite hearing her right. He’d thought Jacques was a boy’s name. Or at least, it seemed to him like it should be one. But there was no question this girl was, well, a girl. He might have even said something about that, but… well, the kid had had some trouble with his own name, at times. People thought ‘Razputin’ was a little over the top most of the time, or thought he was joking. That was why he usually used his nickname. “Nice to meet you, then. Ah-”
Just about to ask the question that he’d had in mind, Raz was interrupted yet again by the balls scattering in all directions. Being next to useless where he was, the boy looked up, taking hold of the fence a bit to test it’s sturdiness before, with a few easy moves, he’d vaulted over it and come to land by her, reaching over to take one of the nearer objects and holding onto it as he straightened up.
“Here, I’ll help out. So what are you doing with all these anyhow? They look like juggling balls…” of course, Raz would have seen juggling balls before. His father preferred bowling pins, of course… he remembered he’d used to play catch with the things all the time. Catching sight of the yellow one rolling away, he ran to go get it before it went under a car. When he came back, he looked her over again… Being a performer himself, and more observant than people gave him credit for, he could tell her smile was fake, but what he couldn't figure out was why. More questions kept bubbling up every moment he was with this girl, though he finally decided on just one, “Uh… Look, is there anything wrong?” he really wasn’t good at being too sensitive or leaving anything be, like any young boy.
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Post by Lexxi on Mar 17, 2009 6:03:07 GMT -5
Jacques took them carefully from Raz and looked away for a moment. She had seen his act of pure agility and felt a certain jealous fill her. If she could do that, she wouldn’t be in this mess. Jacques wouldn’t be traveling the world just to find more people who would laugh at her. Letting her smile drop, she sighed and gave a light shake of her head. “Yes, they’re juggling balls…” she started. It was almost difficult to say. She knew she should be ashamed, but she was. She was ashamed to be part of the most ridiculed troop in the world. “I’m part of the Vegas Sister’s Circus…I just….I can’t do it.”
She retrieved the rest and held each in her palm as if weighing them tentatively. Each felt like it was made of lead and made her feel a bit uneasy. For years, she’d been using these and for years they’d done nothing but come back down on her and caused her sister to treat her with scorn. That was how she knew. That was how she couldn’t deny that she couldn’t do it. Since she was able to walk, Reno had been training her like a slave and she’d failed every time. Not once had she even come close to succeeding and the chances of it happening this time were slim to none. There were no miracles left in the world for her, but that didn’t stop her. She was determined to show the world she wasn’t a complete failure. She was out to prove herself for once. Taking in a deep breath, she tossed one into the air and began another vain attempt to juggle.
At first, they stayed moving in a fluid arch above her like a rainbow after a spring shower, first red, then yellow, then green, then blue, over and over again, but then it became unsteady. Red then, then green, then yellow, then green again. She couldn’t keep it going and lost control after only the third rotation; all the orbs raining down. Even when one knocked her on the head, all Jacques did was bite her tongue and stare down at her feet as if waiting for Reno to appear and bark at her in that harsh tone or for Razputin to laugh at her and her foolish attempts. Even he must be able to see that she couldn’t do it even with years of practice. She was hopeless. Clutching the only one left in her grasp, she grit her teeth and threw it; her toss like a bullet that hit a tree with a loud thud before the ball fell to the ground. She was so sick of it. “If there is anything wrong it’s the fact that I’m about as coordinated as a newborn horse…” [/size]
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Post by Kero on Mar 17, 2009 6:24:37 GMT -5
The change that came over the girl’s face once she dropped her smile was mesmerizing. Like watching the curtain unfold onto a stage full of old, dusty equipment in the midst of a tragic scene, Raz watched her with a thoughtful expression while she spoke, his own eyes puzzled by the familiar glint he saw in hers. Wasn’t it not so long ago that he himself had been seeking desperately to prove against impossible odds that he was good enough to be taken seriously? He didn’t need to really be told straight out all that she was feeling, and it wasn’t like she was hiding it, really. She looked almost lost when she started juggling again.
Raz stepped back, giving her some space while he looked on at the beginning of her act. Noting the unsteadiness of the arc with the eye of someone who was well practiced in the same kind of skill, he was aware that the balls were going to drop before they did. But he didn’t say anything at the moment, just wincing when it happened. If she thought he’d want to laugh, she was dead wrong. Raz knew what it felt like to be laughed at, too. He wasn’t going to do that.
Just as he was about to speak, though, his words cut off before they began in a yelp, moving quickly out of the way of the ball she threw, and once it had bounced off from the tree, he ran to get it automatically, gathering up the others. It was obvious that Jacques was upset, and being a young boy, the only thing he could think to say after he gathered up everything and went back to her was, to his mind, a little inadequate. Usually, he was able to make up grand speeches or the like. He liked to, even. Then again, less was probably more…
“You know, thinking you can’t do it tends to break your concentration. You’re not bad; c’mon, I’ll help. Us circus freaks need to stick together.” He tried to smile reassuringly, but the effect was a little lopsided, “I’ve never seen a newborn horse juggle even that much!”
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Post by Lexxi on Mar 17, 2009 17:55:50 GMT -5
She didn’t seem to pay attention to him at first, lost in her own mental scolding, and crossed her arms tight across the front of her chest. Even when he scurried to retrieve the rest of the balls that had rolled off in all sorts of directions, she could only stare down at the one ball still left in her possession. Her reflection in the glossy blue surface showed no sign of a happy child. No smile, no sparkle to her eyes, just a certain sadness that covered every inch of her skin like a mask. She resisted the urge to chuck it at the tree as she had the other and side before pulling her gaze away from it. It wasn’t worth it. It wasn’t worth hating herself over. Jacques attention turned back to Razputin as he spoke in hopes she might forget her failure. However, she did not smile at first. For a moment, she looked at him like he was insane. Perhaps it was the fact that he had very bluntly referred to her as a “circus freak” or perhaps it was that he had called himself the same thing, but either way, she looked both confused and appraising. Did he mean to say he was like her? Or was he just making a crack about his normality?
Jacques hadn’t a way to be completely sure and felt her head tilt to one side in an unconscious show of deep thought. Then, very slowly, her frown was broken by laughter. Between the smile he had and her own will to laugh at herself to chase away her downhearted mood, she couldn’t help it. Plus, the thought of a horse juggling had struck her as near hilarious and she found herself quickly overcome with giggles no one could hope to suppress. She had to admit that, for a complete stranger, Razputin was quite witty and kind; not like everyone else she’d met on the road that brought her there to the front of the camp. Taking the rest of the balls from him, she glanced between the boy and their glossy surface as if trying to decide which was true. It was quite possible that he was right. Her negative attitude could have been part of the reason for her lack of improvement, but what could she do?
It wasn’t like she could simply change her attitude and outlook in a matter of seconds like one of the trained dogs Reno had kept for the first year on the road. All her life, she’d lived with nothing but can’ts and wonts and it was all she could hear now and all she knew. “It’s not like I don’t try..” Jacques trailed off and shuffled her feet, eyeing the ground as if focused on an ant the scurried over the top of her shoe. She had no excuse for her incompetence other than herself. Moving one of the her braids back behind her ear, she tried her best to keep a confident smile despite how weak and uncertain she felt. “So, are you in a troop too?” she asked quietly. It seemed a proper subject change. Just enough to keep herself from more humiliation. [/size]
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Post by Kero on Mar 18, 2009 5:49:25 GMT -5
There was a lot to be said about trying. People tried for things all their life. They tried to find love, they tried to find acceptance, they tried to reach their dreams, and they tried to do everything they could to make the world better for themselves. Trying was as common as water. But trying and succeeding… those were two different things. Sometimes, one could try their entire life and die never reaching what they wanted to reach. Sometimes, people who tried weren’t trying the right way, and sometimes, they just needed a little help.
Well-versed in trying, himself, Raz tilted his head a little back at this strange, somewhat familiar girl who stood there. He was glad she’d been willing to take the balls from him; he didn’t know what he would have done with them if she hadn’t, and they didn’t belong to him, anyhow. When she broke out into laughter, though, his smile cracked wider, and he started to laugh, as well, moving a little closer and gently moving to ease one of the multicolored balls from her hands. Tossing it up into the air like a miniature sun, he shrugged, sticking his tongue out as the last question faded away.
“Yeah, my family and I…. we’re ‘The Flying Aquatos’. We’re acrobats and all that. It’s not bad. Least not now…” he steered clear of mentioning his psychic powers for now, halting the tossing of the yellow ball and just holding it in his hand, tapping it with a finger from the other, “Well… This is gonna sound stupid, but... when you first started out, could you juggle at all? I know I couldn’t, and you can toss them a couple times now! That’s better than most everyone I know.” he glanced over to her, grinning somewhat, “So how about it? Can I help? My dad used to drill me a lot until I could do it; I promise it’ll be fun! If we get tired of juggling we can just play catch with ‘em.”
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Post by Lexxi on Mar 18, 2009 6:04:52 GMT -5
There was a thoughtful look about her expression as she eyed him and tried her best to think things through thoroughly. It was like her to jump into things without thinking and very much like her to end up with only disappointment and sadness to show for it. Times like that were what made her want to stay near the caravan, but here she was with someone who she supposed counted as a friend and a circus child even. Just like her. Just like she was…. Jacques suddenly furrowed her brow a bit and took a step back; looking him over with a deep concentration. She knew why he looked familiar. She could remember those times when Reno would take her to see other circuses to get her in the mindset of what she would be doing the rest of her life and she could remember that name, but she didn’t believe it. It wasn’t possible.
“You’re an Aquato?” The question came out in the fashion a stunned fan might be when they stumbled across their idle on the street. Jacques had seen their act once before a mere two years ago and had witnessed the amazing acts of daring from each family member. It had been like watching a dream of what their circus should have been like. A dream she had taken back with her and tried so hard to strive for, but had only failed in the process knowing she’d never be good enough. Still Jacques felt her heart skip a beat at the name. The Aquatos, her heroes and right up their with the Galochois, and one of them was right in front of her. She smiled. He was going to help her juggle. “Well, I could juggle somewhat….it’s why Reno decided I would do it in the first place, but I haven’t gotten much better. I could only do three back then and just barely got started on four…” She paused and took in a deep breath as if preparing herself for the worst. “Alright, let’s give this a try.”
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Post by Kero on Mar 18, 2009 6:32:11 GMT -5
Raz… hadn’t really expected to be recognized.
He supposed it was the name that did it. His family weren’t exactly small fry in the circus community, and he had to imagine there were ripples. He’d definitely gotten a few fans to come up and ask him how he did it all after his acts and such. But to be recognized way out here in the middle of nowhere? The thought hadn’t even occurred to him that anyone in this place could know him for anything other than how psychic he was and how young he’d been made into an Agent. The two lives... they just didn’t intermingle.
Seeing them start to wind together now, he wasn’t sure what he thought on the subject. All he was intensely aware of, though, was his sudden nervousness, a hand moving to rub the back of his head a bit as he blushed slightly, “Yeah…” coughing, though, he shook it off, taking a deep breath and reaching over to gesture that he’d take one of the other colors from her, “Two person juggling is easier. We’ll toss ‘em back and forth, and then I’ll slowly give you the balls to juggle with. It’ll be easy if you’re used to juggling four at a time!” at least, he really hoped so. He barely knew this girl, and it occurred to him that most of the other campers probably would have been too wrapped up in themselves to care that she was practicing, but he really wasn’t one to leave something if he thought he could do anything at all to make it better.
Taking a few steps back, Raz waited until Jacques signaled that she was ready, before he’d toss the yellow ball in an easy arc in her direction. He was ready to catch the ones she threw at the same time, his muscles well used to this kind of practice, and his eyes always on the balls. If she started to falter, he’d be right there to help her, trying to keep the paths steady. It actually felt good to practice like this, too, and not worry about how cool he looked, since just him being there seemed to impress this girl enough that doing any more seemed… overdoing it.
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Post by Lexxi on Mar 18, 2009 18:14:53 GMT -5
She was still caught up in the thought of her realization. He was an Aquato. One of the famous Aquatos. He was her idol in the world of caravan performing and she found herself complete taken by him like a child to their parents. Eyes of soft blue looked up into Raz’s own boyish greens with a wonder she could no less hide than she could escape the world. She was smitten in terms that she couldn’t help her own fascination with him and how he, like her, had been raised up (though far better) in the ways of performing. Jacques hardly noticed when he took the ball from her. She noticed only partially when he began to toss them to her and almost fell but caught on quickly; her mouth suddenly dry and her hands trembling.
Jacques moved her hands slowly to get the feel for the balls’ rise and fall. One by one, she tossed them up into the air in order to get them back into Raz’s capable hand, and one by one she caught them again. It felt almost natural to go at such a steady pace without needing to scramble desperately in order to keep up and her heart no longer beat like a mouse being chased by a relentless cat. As she watched them lift into the still forest air into their arch and then slip back down, she felt as if she could actually keep up. As she caught them and held them, she had no need to hurry because she could almost sense when the next would come. However, the doubt in her heart was as nagging as it was cruel. It gripped at her until it had tied her stomach in a tight knot and she felt the balls begin to fall out of line. Even when Raz tossed them back, she would only send them back with rapidly fading confidence and then, it all fell apart. As one of the balls came back at her (ironically enough, the red one that had brought her there) she didn’t move in the least to catch it, but rather froze like a deer in the headlights and watched as it came closer and finally impacted with her face and sent her to the ground; the rest tumbling around her as they always seemed to.
She felt like crying. She wanted to throw a tantrum like a child and blame Raz for everything, but did neither. Jacques was more inwardly hurt than anything and just wanted him to laugh and go before she made a bigger fool of herself yet wished he would remain and keep her company. Raz was her friend and she’d only just met him. If he left, she’d have only her sisters and the caravan. She’d have nothing. Sitting up, she wiped the start of tears from the corners of her eyes and sighed. “Well that could have gone better….I’m sorry.”
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Post by Kero on Mar 19, 2009 14:37:15 GMT -5
It had started out so well.
Optimism was as natural to the boy as his psychic abilities; it was just something he was born with and would always have. So when Jacques had fallen into the rhythm of the throws, he couldn’t have helped his rising hope that she would lose the doubt for a while and just have fun, his own spirit lifting as he thought that this might actually be that simple. He had certainly been starting to have fun! Raz didn’t like to admit that he often missed having other people with the same skills as he did to talk to or hang out with. Though the other campers didn’t look at him with awe or anything like that (certainly not like Jacques embarrassing but flattering gaze that she’d looked at him with), they didn’t really have too much in common with him to talk about beyond… well, the latest gossip. The boy didn’t much care for the latest on who was snogging who, or who’s homework had just been thrown into the river, or who was Bobby’s latest victim…. In fact, he spent a lot of time trying to keep on his toes so he didn’t become the latest on that last list. It was fun most of the time, but some times, he just wasn’t up for the rivalry.
Ever since he realized that he was mostly… alone… at camp, he’d really just kept to himself, and wished for a friend. One his own age, who didn’t talk to squirrels more than him. At this point, he couldn’t hold out hope that Lili would be here. He didn’t like to think about it, since it was depressing, but he couldn’t help but think he’d done something wrong.
It was that same kind of thought that passed through his head as he saw the ball fly through the air toward Jacques face, wincing in sympathy when it connected and knocked her to the ground. There was really no need for thought about his next reaction. Running right up, the boy knelt by her, almost frozen when he saw she was starting to cry. Just like any guy, when a girl started crying, he was about as helpless as a waterlogged Chihuahua.
“Hey, uh… Jacques…?” he tried to smile a bit, tilting his head a little at her, “….you alright? That looked kinda painful…” his voice trailed off a little, though it did brighten a bit after, catching on one bright point in the midst of al the down feelings, “Did you count how many revolutions that was?”
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Post by Lexxi on Mar 19, 2009 14:55:17 GMT -5
“Ten.” It was a one word answer, but not nearly as bitter as one might have expected from her. A real juggler could have gone for hours on end without so much as a stumble in form, but for Jacques, more than one turn of the wheel of colors was enough to be counted as a triumph. Even the bruise forming just underneath her pale blue eye was well worth it for the fact that she had accomplished something. She’d once been told that what didn’t kill her made her stronger and so far, she was alive as ever. Apparently, she had made progress somewhere along the line. However, it was cut short by an all too familiar call. One who wasn’t listening clearly might have thought it was a crow with a bad cough, the shrill noise rising to jostle a few squirrels from their trees and across the grass, and it even made the girl wince a bit as it met her ears.
“JACQUES! WHERE ARE YOU!” It wasn’t the type of yell that came from concern for a dear missing little sister, but more the kind you would rather run away from. Jacques looked up at Raz then back in the direction of the voice as it came again. “JACQUES MARGRET VEGAS, YOU HAD BETTER GET BACK HERE!” That was her cue to go and go fast, but she couldn’t. Running back with her tail between her legs would get her nowhere if she had no way to prove her whereabouts. Reno would never believe she had been out searching for a rouge juggling ball and she’d believe she’d been practicing juggling with a strange boy even less. Unless she had proof, she was doomed. Ignoring the still stinging pain in her cheekbone, she gathered up the balls and dropped them into the folds of her sash and then turned to Raz with a certain urgency in her expression. Without even thinking, she grabbed his arm and attempted to drag him along back to camp. “Please, you’ve got to come back with me. Reno will throw a fit if I don’t prove I wasn’t trying to run off. Please, come back to camp.” She almost sounded like she was rambling, but was trying her best to remain as calm as she possible could. It wasn’t working.
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