Sorry about this extremely long (and unannounced) hiatus. .-. I do plan to continue writing though. It'll certainly be interesting trying to create a winter story in the summer, but we'll see how it goes. The good news is---I've figured out much of the general plot and characters! Hopefully it'll flow much better as the story advances. ^-^ Thank you once again for your patience!
~Leaf
Great story so far btw!
*Looks at my story set in a snowy waste land* Yeah, That's gonna be interesting for sure.
"Wise words by wise men write wise deeds in wise pen." —Lollimon the Wise
-last edited on May 22, 2018 22:05:58 GMT by TeaLeaf❀
Post by TeaLeaf❀ on May 22, 2018 22:05:22 GMT
And now, Chapter Two! ~~~~~~~
The logs are burning.
At least, that’s what he first thought when he spotted them through the window. Once the youngster invites him in, however, he quickly realizes that there is no smoke or flame drifting about in the two-story townhouse. The actual heat is coming from the vent openings up on the higher sections of the wall opposite of the dry, dusty pile of wood. Ember lights dance around the abandoned furnace in intervals, lasting ten to twenty seconds each time they appear.
Théo went upstairs a couple of minutes ago, and he is left alone in the warmth of the spacious living room. He reaches out to the lights several times, marveling at the possibility of catching the fire in his hands. Nevertheless, he fails—They are just projections, after all. What was he expecting?
Thump-thump-thump! The young boy’s footsteps echo loudly as he descends from the upper rooms. Compared to the loud bang! he heard moments ago, he can only wonder what monstrosity Théo was carrying in that bag.
“Do you want something to eat, mister?” Théo asks cheerfully over the open counter as he switches on the kitchen lights. “I may not be a cook, but I’m a sandwich-building master! Plus,” He holds up a white paper packet with glee. “This will definitely warm you up.”
“‘Sandwich’?” He tilts his head in confusion upon seeing the stacks of flat, semi-brown squares and gathered bottles of many colors in the youngster’s hands. “Also, what is that?” “Oh, you’ll see, mister. You’ll see.” Théo answers mysteriously as he tears one corner of the packet and gingerly fills a cup with chestnut brown particles. Once he sees his worried frown, however, the young boy immediately tenses and stutters out an explanation: “D-don’t worry! It’s not like…it’s not like I’m going to poison you! Geez…Have some faith in me, would ya?”
He widens eyes and stares back in a mixture of horror and confusion. Théo manages a nervous chuckle after three seconds of uncomfortable silence. “I…I was just joking around, mister. You’re supposed to laugh and brush it off.” “Oh.” He lowers his head.
At least, that’s what he first thought when he spotted them through the window. Once the youngster invites him in, however, he quickly realizes that there is no smoke or flame drifting about in the two-story townhouse. The actual heat is coming from the vent openings up on the higher sections of the wall opposite of the dry, dusty pile of wood. Ember lights dance around the abandoned furnace in intervals, lasting ten to twenty seconds each time they appear.
Théo went upstairs a couple of minutes ago, and he is left alone in the warmth of the spacious living room. He reaches out to the lights several times, marveling at the possibility of catching the fire in his hands. Nevertheless, he fails—They are just projections, after all. What was he expecting?
Thump-thump-thump! The young boy’s footsteps echo loudly as he descends from the upper rooms. Compared to the loud bang! he heard moments ago, he can only wonder what monstrosity Théo was carrying in that bag.
“Do you want something to eat, mister?” Théo asks cheerfully over the open counter as he switches on the kitchen lights. “I may not be a cook, but I’m a sandwich-building master! Plus,” He holds up a white paper packet with glee. “This will definitely warm you up.”
“‘Sandwich’?” He tilts his head in confusion upon seeing the stacks of flat, semi-brown squares and gathered bottles of many colors in the youngster’s hands. “Also, what is that?” “Oh, you’ll see, mister. You’ll see.” Théo answers mysteriously as he tears one corner of the packet and gingerly fills a cup with chestnut brown particles. Once he sees his worried frown, however, the young boy immediately tenses and stutters out an explanation: “D-don’t worry! It’s not like…it’s not like I’m going to poison you! Geez…Have some faith in me, would ya?”
He widens eyes and stares back in a mixture of horror and confusion. Théo manages a nervous chuckle after three seconds of uncomfortable silence. “I…I was just joking around, mister. You’re supposed to laugh and brush it off.” “Oh.” He lowers his head.
-last edited on May 24, 2018 21:16:11 GMT by Sam8432
Post by TeaLeaf❀ on May 24, 2018 19:20:29 GMT
Thank you so much, everyone!! ~~~~~
“It’s okay,” The boy relaxes. “I’ll help you recognize it next time. But hey—you’re already improving a lot, mister! For someone that doesn’t remember his name, you can still tell the difference between a log and a living tree. That’s progress right there.” “That is true…Perhaps I’ll regain my entire memory soon.” “I sure hope so, mister. Your family must be worried sick!” “My family…”
He looks on curiously as the young boy approaches a small water heater and directs a stream of water into the cup. Small bubbles and half-dissolved particles spin together wildly in the dark liquid as the youngster mixes it with a spoon. Next, dots of solid snow fall from his hands onto the liquid surface and stay afloat—half exposed to the air and half below the brown, milky deep.
“Here you go!” Théo thrusts the cup into his hands. “Take it in one go and tell me what you think!” He inspects it for a while, almost memorized by the liquid’s swirling motion, but hesitates to drink it in. “About…about that ‘poison’—” Théo scowls. “Hurry up and drink it! It’ll get cold!” “Alright! Alright!” He lifts the cup to his mouth.
Sweet, sweeter still. A strong, bitter aroma—mixed with the milky liquid and bursts of white sugary goodness—melts inside his mouth as he finishes the drink in one gulp. All of it disappear seconds after the cup leaves his side, but the taste…the warm chocolate taste is the only thing he can think of. Then the heat set in. He lets out a broken scream when, without any warning, the burning water transforms his mouth into a literal lava pit and precedes to set the rest of his body ablaze.
“You…” He lets out a string of coughs. His eyes water with tears. “You did this on purpose, didn’t you?” Théo flashes a mischievous smile. “…I did say it’s to help warm you up.”
He lays back exhausted on the couch, looking on with dread as the youngster walks back to the kitchen to prepare the “sandwich”. It’s doomed to be as horrific as the burning liquid at this rate, and he can do nothing except puffing out the excessive hot air from his system.
-last edited on May 24, 2018 19:33:11 GMT by TeaLeaf❀
Post by TeaLeaf❀ on May 24, 2018 19:32:01 GMT
“I’m glad mom isn’t home yet. That scream could’ve gotten me in a whole lotta trouble.” “Is your mother really alright with you bringing strangers home?” He questions. “I mean, I can leave before she—” “I’m sure she won’t mind once I explain your amnesia. Besides, she doesn’t usually get home until five o’clock. You shouldn’t be out there in the cold, mister, when you can be here drinking hot cocoa and eating those delicious marshmallows.”
Cocoa. So that’s what it was. “What about your father? Is he also working?” The young boy stops in the middle of spreading a red coloring over the brown squares. It is only for a moment, but Théo’s hand trembles and curls up into a fist. Just as quickly as it happened, however, it was gone, and a bright smile appears once more on the youngster’s face. “Yep! He doesn’t come home during the week though. He only has time for weekends.”
“Ah…I see.”
“Here you go, mister! Sorry for the wait.” Théo brings over the “sandwich” in a porcelain plate, sized just as big as the triple-stacked quadrilaterals. He peers at the colors laying underneath the first square with suspicion. “Be honest with me,” He gestures to the red covering. “Is that hot sauce?” “No-no-no it’s strawberry! I swear!” The boy laughs. “You’re already warmed up, mister. That would be overdoing it.”
He finally gives in and chews on the “sandwich” carefully, surveying his surroundings as Théo goes to clean up the kitchen. The house, though small and the living space is all squashed together, is still lovely to behold. All the furniture are laid out for convenience and easy-access, and the windows unfold a direct view of the lake and the skybridge. Night lights are already on due to the dark atmosphere caused by the earlier blizzard, and the crossing shines proudly in its turquoise coat of paint, further enhanced by multiple projections of white lights installed under the surface of the lake. Dozens of yellow lamps fully envelop the opposite bank, yet the distance makes it impossible for him to make out details of East Birchwood (or north, really, from where he’s at).
Sweet, sweeter still. A strong, bitter aroma—mixed with the milky liquid and bursts of white sugary goodness—melts inside his mouth as he finishes the drink in one gulp. All of it disappear seconds after the cup leaves his side, but the taste…the warm chocolate taste is the only thing he can think of. Then the heat set in. He lets out a broken scream when, without any warning, the burning water transforms his mouth into a literal lava pit and precedes to set the rest of his body ablaze.
“You…” He lets out a string of coughs. His eyes water with tears. “You did this on purpose, didn’t you?” Théo flashes a mischievous smile. “…I did say it’s to help warm you up.”
He lays back exhausted on the couch, looking on with dread as the youngster walks back to the kitchen to prepare the “sandwich”. It’s doomed to be as horrific as the burning liquid at this rate, and he can do nothing except puffing out the excessive hot air from his system.
*** Cocoa. So that’s what it was. “What about your father? Is he also working?” The young boy stops in the middle of spreading a red coloring over the brown squares. It is only for a moment, but Théo’s hand trembles and curls up into a fist. Just as quickly as it happened, however, it was gone, and a bright smile appears once more on the youngster’s face. “Yep! He doesn’t come home during the week though. He only has time for weekends.”
“Ah…I see.”
“Here you go, mister! Sorry for the wait.” Théo brings over the “sandwich” in a porcelain plate, sized just as big as the triple-stacked quadrilaterals. He peers at the colors laying underneath the first square with suspicion. “Be honest with me,” He gestures to the red covering. “Is that hot sauce?” “No-no-no it’s strawberry! I swear!” The boy laughs. “You’re already warmed up, mister. That would be overdoing it.”
He finally gives in and chews on the “sandwich” carefully, surveying his surroundings as Théo goes to clean up the kitchen. The house, though small and the living space is all squashed together, is still lovely to behold. All the furniture are laid out for convenience and easy-access, and the windows unfold a direct view of the lake and the skybridge. Night lights are already on due to the dark atmosphere caused by the earlier blizzard, and the crossing shines proudly in its turquoise coat of paint, further enhanced by multiple projections of white lights installed under the surface of the lake. Dozens of yellow lamps fully envelop the opposite bank, yet the distance makes it impossible for him to make out details of East Birchwood (or north, really, from where he’s at).
~~~~~ Double update. ^)^
ō.Õ Hmm. . . that kid ain't being completely honest.
Sweet, sweeter still. A strong, bitter aroma—mixed with the milky liquid and bursts of white sugary goodness—melts inside his mouth as he finishes the drink in one gulp. All of it disappear seconds after the cup leaves his side, but the taste…the warm chocolate taste is the only thing he can think of. Then the heat set in. He lets out a broken scream when, without any warning, the burning water transforms his mouth into a literal lava pit and precedes to set the rest of his body ablaze.
“You…” He lets out a string of coughs. His eyes water with tears. “You did this on purpose, didn’t you?” Théo flashes a mischievous smile. “…I did say it’s to help warm you up.”
He lays back exhausted on the couch, looking on with dread as the youngster walks back to the kitchen to prepare the “sandwich”. It’s doomed to be as horrific as the burning liquid at this rate, and he can do nothing except puffing out the excessive hot air from his system.
*** Cocoa. So that’s what it was. “What about your father? Is he also working?” The young boy stops in the middle of spreading a red coloring over the brown squares. It is only for a moment, but Théo’s hand trembles and curls up into a fist. Just as quickly as it happened, however, it was gone, and a bright smile appears once more on the youngster’s face. “Yep! He doesn’t come home during the week though. He only has time for weekends.”
“Ah…I see.”
“Here you go, mister! Sorry for the wait.” Théo brings over the “sandwich” in a porcelain plate, sized just as big as the triple-stacked quadrilaterals. He peers at the colors laying underneath the first square with suspicion. “Be honest with me,” He gestures to the red covering. “Is that hot sauce?” “No-no-no it’s strawberry! I swear!” The boy laughs. “You’re already warmed up, mister. That would be overdoing it.”
He finally gives in and chews on the “sandwich” carefully, surveying his surroundings as Théo goes to clean up the kitchen. The house, though small and the living space is all squashed together, is still lovely to behold. All the furniture are laid out for convenience and easy-access, and the windows unfold a direct view of the lake and the skybridge. Night lights are already on due to the dark atmosphere caused by the earlier blizzard, and the crossing shines proudly in its turquoise coat of paint, further enhanced by multiple projections of white lights installed under the surface of the lake. Dozens of yellow lamps fully envelop the opposite bank, yet the distance makes it impossible for him to make out details of East Birchwood (or north, really, from where he’s at).
~~~~~ Double update. ^)^
ō.Õ Hmm. . . that kid ain't being completely honest.
*watches Guy eat sandwich* It'z gud, rite??
Wow. . . that sounds so pretty. . .
*claps*
*resists urge to "moar"*
Hmm...I wonder why...
*he nods then stuffs the whole thing into his mouth*
-last edited on May 26, 2018 20:00:24 GMT by TeaLeaf❀: Spacing. Spacing. Spacing. :P
Post by TeaLeaf❀ on May 26, 2018 19:58:38 GMT
He can hear people greeting one another several streets over and asking about their day. There are little laughs and noises of on-going conversations slipping through the thin walls, and life flourishes in all the townhouses surrounding Théo’s home. He holds in his breath and listens with full intensity; the only sounds he can hear in the young boy’s home are the soft humming of the air vents and the running tap water. Other than that, silence is all there is.
The boy rinses the plate and the cup then places them in the dishwasher. Wiping off the water from his hands, the youngster finally notices the creeping stillness. Something flickers in his eyes…or, at least, that’s what he thinks he saw. He’s not sure since Théo returns to the living room with just as much energy and optimism as before.
“Tell me, mister. What do you remember?” “I remember…walking…” He closes his eyes. “I was already heading toward the Community by the time I was…aware. I…I wanted to go home, but I don’t know where it is.” “So…no head wounds? Headaches?”
“No. Not at all. Should I?” He asks worriedly. “Hmm…maybe? Like I said, you seem to remember everything else perfectly well, mister. Maybe it’s just a tiny part of your memory that’s missing.” “I wonder what—”
Click.
The knob twirls gently to the right. A few seconds later, the front door swings open and a new figure enters the living room soundlessly. It is a woman late in her prime, dressed somewhat unprepared for the snowy weather. He takes note of the half-shrunk winter cape hanging loosely around her neck and the rhombus-patterned sweater she has on, both a dull shade of black with grey lined designs, before realizing that her attention is on them, the weird duo sitting on the couches.
He looks at the time: five o' clock, not a moment too soon.
![[derp]](http://storage.proboards.com/6672327/images/YqNTPqyQUocVMYXZgUAI.png)
![[*]](http://storage.proboards.com/6672327/images/xIQZyTih4o7KUiSh9m3I.png)
![[y]](http://storage.proboards.com/6672327/images/WYWPH2VRo26pOFDid7QZ.png)
) 
![[heart]](http://storage.proboards.com/6672327/images/SynFAxjClulYuSIRbDRN.png)
![[lenny]](http://storage.proboards.com/6672327/images/7elNEqtPK2hcSAiIMFNh.png)
![[uni]](http://storage.proboards.com/6672327/images/mPKcREJAtrpeAXSOgaOH.png)
