pris and her need for a parent -x- open by invitation

[Guest]

[i promise i'm not trying to exclude everyone! this thread continues a sl with benjamin, that's the only reason it's open by invite. =D]

most girls pris' age want to be left alone. they lock their doors, their drawers, their journals and yell at their parents to mind their own business. with seventeen around the corner, pris heard the girls she went to school with whispering things like, "why won't my mother treat me like an adult" and "my dad doesn't get i can take care of myself". when those girls turned thirteen and aged up, up and up, the kind of blossoming they did made the adult world make sense and told them it was time to be in it without help.

for pris it was different. when she turned thirteen and aged up, up and up she blossomed a different way. puberty was also the time that the chemicals in her brain got mixed up and went off track, starting her on the path that her dad and his mother before him had unsuccessfully battled. while pris' case of schizophrenia was far more mild than theirs - she could function without medication with the help of a series of compulsive behaviors that helped keep her lucid - there was always the possibility that it would one day be their kind of worse.

right now for pris it worsened when she was alone. this summer in particular was terribly difficult on her. it was the first time there wasn't someone home with her during the daytime. her brother wasn't as lucky as her mother had been, living off the money from her first and second husbands so she didn't have to work. dommy had to work hard and lots to support the two of them, so it meant this summer pris had to face something for hours and hours that she'd never had to face so much ever before:

the worsening warp of her own mind as it was forced to entertain itself.

pris knew she needed to not be alone anymore. but it was more than just getting on a bus and wandering around places she'd been or never been to before among strangers or near strangers or even friends. everyone around her that was her age was growing up into independence, and pris was growing into needing the opposite. maybe it was partially because she didn't have parents anymore, but the eccentric girl was now convinced that her father was haunting her thoughts so much because she needed one. a father.

she couldn't, after all, need a mother. her mother was a bitch and she was glad she was gone.

pris didn't understand the why of what she felt she needed, she just knew she needed it and she needed it now. and she knew that she couldn't get what she needed from dommy when he was a brother and not a parent, and she couldn't get what she needed from donnie duck because he was a friend who gave her butterflies and not a parent, and that left only one other person to talk to. one who said if she ever needed him she should call him and he would come and give help.

it was why she took the painting that poof painted of her back from her most precious doctor duck. donnie had been keeping it for her, covered up in a sheet in his closet. she really didn't want to talk to it, not when just looking at her painted self made pris' feel like things were crawling inside of her - the same thing she felt when she looked into any reflective surface. but she had no numbers for poof to punch into her phone, so she didn't know how else to call him. and without poof in front of her to ask, there was no other way except telling the bitchwitch she wanted him.

pris knew the bitchwitch wouldn't like poof being called right out of her very much at all.

it was because of the threat of the bitchwitch showing up that pris was carrying the painting out of the inn still wrapped up in its sheet. if the painting did get poof to come, she didn't want the de'ryanna finding out somehow, butting in and flapping her snotty lips all over them and the walls and any other ears listening. after what poof told her what he was able to do to de'ryanna the pris suspected that poof would be able to give her a taste of mean medicine easily, but that's not why pris wanted poof to come.

at least not this time, anyway.

it was early morning as pris carried the painting down the path leading away from the inn. normally she wasn't up this early, but duck had the first shift at the clinic. once he left, she dressed. she was wearing her special red riding hood cape that she made herself, with all those mismatching colored patches lining the inside. underneath the cape she was wearing the kind of long black dress that sophisticated women usually wore to fancy parties where food was served that was hard to pronounce. an adult dress, it had thin straps for sleeves and a v-shape that dipped low enough to accentuate her new blossoms. the dress was a little too long, brushing against the stone walkway so her rainbow sandaled feet barely peaked out when she stepped. her hair was straight, and the streaks that were all the different colors of the rainbow had started to fade so it looked like a more muted rainbow between the streaks of black.

the eccentric girl hadn't planned on taking the painting to the caverns, but that's where her steps took her. this is where she'd first seen poof, after all, and she had a feeling that somewhere this dark and dirty would be too 'beneath' de'ryanna. so was a safe spot. she plopped down right in the mouth of the ching-a-ching cave without care for her pretty dress, and pulled off the sheet that covered the portrait of her. setting the painting against a rock, pris made sure not to look at the image of herself. this would be a very bad time for her to get lost like she did with mirrors. she kept her green eyes focused on everything else instead. the rocks-trees-dirt-grass and sky around her, constantly switching what she looked at as usual.

then, pris took a deep breath and murmured down at her stomach to stop twisting into knots like it was rope. the knots were there because there was part of her that knew this might not be a good idea. the same part that didn't tell donnie duck who she was going to talk to about getting a parent, or why she needed the portrait. the same part that didn't tell dommy what she was going to do while he was away. yet she was here, because she needed what she needed and she needed it now. so when she spoke, she formed her words loud and clear and made sure that it sounded like a command, so that her portrait wouldn't tell her no."fie fie foe fum, painting tell the big bad wolf to come."

it was a rhyme because the wolf in the book that had the wolf, the witch and the way had rhymed at her in the library. so now pris believed that when dealing with big bad wolves the best thing to do was rhyme.

[B.D. Adams]

There was no one on this plane who was able to summon this 'Big Bad Wolf' even if in appearence it looks as though they had. He always kept an eye out, a listen, to the people he had taken an interest to and marked and because of that they were able to easily call for him. That didn't mean that he would answer and if he did, what would it cost that person? 

Yes, everything had it's price, a consequence whether good or bad and it was something that many never thought about when they called out for the attention of this wolf and as a general rule he hardly ever told them that there would be payment. If they didn't think about that? Had Pris thought about this before she had told the painting to bring him forth?  

It was a most pleasant thought for this man and his eyes sparkled with the many things that he could do to her. She was, after all, in his territory. Pris had come dressed as a visual delight and placed herself at the front of his cave. An unexpected gift waiting to be unraveled. 

He watched her from the darkness of the cave, studying her and picking up on the nervous feeling that she had. Pris had every right to be nervous and even a bit scared. If she had been someone else then she would not have lived long enough to feel the warm sensation of fingers walking up her back. The fingers were illusionary for he was still back within the caves darkness. It was one of the consequences that came with entering one of his domains.   

The fingers emitted the same type warmth and soothing feel Pris may recognize from when they had conversed about the painting and he had moved his hand along her face, but there was something different about it this time and it was not something easily noticed. This time the tendrils of warmth were digging as they sought to merge with her own physical structure. It gave feeling of what happens after a person drank a hot beverage or had a bowl of soup. 

"Earth-child. Pris." The soothing words came from around the cave, unfocused in any direction. "Why is it that you are here?"

The question was asked and the warm sensation that was creeping up her back continued and also started at the base of her feet  Small tendrils of warmth moving over those rainbow colored shoes, under the skirt and along her legs. Up and up and up at a slow pace. 

As long as she continued to stay in the cave this feeling and what it was doing would continue. Unless, of course, he put an end to it. But why would he want to do that?

 

[Guest]

though he did no work since they encountered each other last, the big bag wolf had been granted two wishes. the day poof had delivered into her hands the very portrait that pris brought back here he'd tried to lure her into the cave, but she wouldn't go. yet there she was now without him needing to plant a single suggestion, seated by choice right where the entrance began and the exit ended. the cave's doorway, if the cave were ever to gain a door. what had caused her to be so brave, or so foolish? the effects of a summer of too much solitude was definitely a large part of that, for multiple reasons.

and other wish? the day of the portrait when poof filled her with his warmth he'd done it hoping she'd remember he was kind to her, understanding, comforting and that those things would be enough for him to swim through her thoughts from that day forward. and swim in her thoughts he had, as well as her words, and it was because he had been all those things on that day that she was convinced she needed when she left donnie duck's room this morning. that, and so much more - maker and poof. all of what she knew about him - well, besides the grandmother what big teeth you have - had made pris think calling him was a good idea.

but as the saying goes, hindsight is twenty-twenty. it had been months since pris had seen benjamin last, and some of her recollections of him had fallen victim to another wise old saying - out of sight, out of mind. poof was still out of sight, but it was the touch that fixed the fact that certain things were no longer out of mind. "teeth!" it was an irrational shriek, blurted out in a reflexive panic as her whole body jerked like she'd just been electrocuted. as she scrambled to her feet she was nearly tripped by her own cape. she hadn't expected to be touched, and pris was very finicky when it came to touches even when they weren't by real fingers. leave it to her to be touched in a soothing way and freak out. but then...her mother had some teeth scars to prove that it wasn't the first time pris reacted this way to gentle touching.

even if she could feel the subtle change to the warm touch, she wouldn't. pris was too busy turning around in circles and swatting at her back like there was an ugly bug on it. "nonononononono wait wait wait." it was a fast gasping plea as she spun and swatted, a desperate attempt to barter things to happen at the pace she needed. did she expect him to listen? pris was smart enough not to expect anything from poof besides a single thing - that he'd come when she called him. and she only expected that because he told her it would be that way.

the already eccentric girl looked even moreso hopping from one foot to another like the bottoms of her feet were burning. she was shaking both hands too, like something was stuck on them. finally she stilled long enough to yank the strings that tied the cape around her neck, pulling the cape off and tossing it in front of her as she jumped back from it. as if it was the cape's fault. maybe she realized wearing that cape to see the big bad wolf was a bad idea, that it could've made suggestions. maybe the soft red fabric had been batting its eyelashes at benjamin without her permission. if that was the case it would have to do it from the cave floor now. it lay where she'd been sitting, and since pris had jumped back from it she was just barely outside the cave. to the point where if she breathed in too deeply her diaphragm would be inside the cave while the rest of her was outside.

pris huffed. her hands touching all over herself. brushes to her bare arms, palms rubbing the fabric of her dress, fingers picking at the straps and fixing them, both hands fussing with her hair. it might be obvious she was annoyed with herself for reacting like 'such a child'. could it be that she finally hit that teenage phase, where she chastised herself for not being the sophisticated pretty blossom she was supposed to be?

it certainly might explain the tone. very different than her shrieking or pleading. it was a mimic of poof's soothing tone, but it was very feminine. " 'if you were to need me. call me.'" she punctuated it just like he had that day of the portrait. "i need a maker, a poofer," fingers fluttered in front of her, illustrating those two words with magician-like gestures, "and you said you were my swashbuckler. i don't have numbers for you so i had to ask her," a point to her portrait though she didn't look at it, "and i had to ask away from the bitchwitch."

so he got multiple answers. why she'd called him, and why she'd called him by coming here. despite the fact that she was trying to sound soothing, feminine and like a sophisticated blossom it didn't change the fact that her heart felt like it was going to beat right out of her chest. even though her nerves were in a very tight twist, the fact that she couldn't see him didn't bother her. perhaps because of the simple fact that if he were visible to her she wouldn't be looking at him directly anyway.

[B.D. Adams]

Not more than a second after Pris physically touched an area outside of his cave did the warm feeling that had sprouted at and over her back and from the bottom of her feet stop. And it stopped instantly. However, just because something stopped happening did not mean that it would not start to happen again or that there would not be consequences from what had happened even if what was set to happen had not been fully completed. Steps and gauges. For some things he liked to take his time.

If they were worth his time.

He already shared a slight connection to Pris, and now it was only stronger. What did this mean? She would be able to tell if he were physically within a hundred feet and was letting his presence be known to her. Benjamin revealed himself when it struck his fancy - like now - and if she were paying attention to herself she would know for sure that he was there for the space he currently occupied was well with the range limit.

"Wait. Wait. Wait." The three words held the deep pitch of his voice and went still in the caves darkness. Any other voice spoken from inside like that would have obeyed the natural laws of sound and gave a resonance off of the walls, or even a small hint of an echo maybe, but not his. There was no place that would brave to echo perfectly everything contained in that voice of demonic undertones, hidden in his bass. This tone held power. The lingering effects of what he had used before arriving and when what had gone into play with Pris on his doorstep was there. The end of the words brought him forward into the first sliver of light that was at the end of the darkness and he began to be exposed.

The black of his pant and shoe seemed to be made of the very darkness he was come from as they matched perfectly well. His top was the same color, a button shirt with a split collar that was turned over the collar of his burnt orange leather jacket. One foot and that side emerged first before the other. To see him would give the impression of a shadow takes form and independence from the darkness that gave it life.

His chin was lowered only an inch and his eyes betrayed a glimpse of the inner animal. He had smelled her shock and nerves over what had happened, he could smell the innocence that hung about her and he knew that she had come to see him.

"Because I could not stop for Death," Benjamin recited slowly as he moved towards the discarded red-patched cape on the ground. "He kindly stopped for me."

His eyes stayed upon her as he bent down to pick up the cape with his left hand and gave it a swift flick to rid it of any surface dirt or rocks it picked up with the throw before he moved it over his arm.

"Hello, Pris."

[Guest]

the touching stopped. it stopped and pris had obviously stopped swatting and squirming. she calmed enough to stop picking at her clothes and smoothing them. the girl went still, even her heart slowed from its rushing pace, and things were better.

she felt better, at least. but the manner in which pris felt things was different from most people. both physically and emotionally. a pin prick to her would not be the same sensation on her skin, and things like sadness or fear crashed about her mind and senses as entirely different animals. so how then would this paradoxically imbalanced girl feel something as intuitive as benjamin's presence, and know the feeling for what it was?

she wouldn't know. not this time, at least. maybe after she was taught, or maybe learned through time. for now her bewilderment was an effect from another cause. his voice. like having a trained eye that could see all the individual strokes that made up a part of a painting, she could hear a separations of tones. his words had listening layers, tiered like a cake. it was foreign, eerie, something she'd never ever heard anyone else do. pris felt the shock of her eyes, too. not at the sight of him, it was shock about her sight of him - when poof had stepped into the light her eyes happened to be ready-set-perfectly aimed to stare into his. that startled her. she didn't like looking at eyes, not unless she felt it was safe.

her shock and startlement were easily observed. her emerald eyes saw his for only a second before pris jerked her head away. she made a sound, a mimic of how an injured animal might cry. a short, blurted howl. "wolf..." she whispered the word to herself, thinking of the unopened book still tucked away in her closet.

the spoken thought went unfinished. what poof said next yanked her mind onto a completely different track. "the carriage held but just ourselves and immortality we slowly drove he knew no haste and I had put away my labor and my leisure too for his civility." pris stopped there, though her compulsive mind recited the poem silently to the end. as with all of dickinson's poems, pris spoke these words in one string with no emphasis, as if one word was just the same as the next. to her they were just words, ones that her doctor had her memorize to recite when her focus was falling apart and her vision was warping and her emotions were getting the best of her.

luckily for her, those things weren't happening right now. though she was rocking her weight slightly back and forth. "civility carriage labor leisure just immortality ourselves is that what would have happened? if i went in your poofed taxi?" the words spilled from her lips as benjamin bent to pick up her cape from the ground. already pris' skewed brain was jumping to the possible answers he could give, and she winced at those maybes. did she really want the answer? she shouldn't have asked. not until she knew if she really wanted the answer. it was enough to make the frustration itch at her insides.

so she tumbled more words. maybe he'd forget that question if she kept piling words on him. "wolf you look like your wolf today little scratches on the surface is the fur try...? - i don't want that answer." that last phrase spilled from her in a rush, followed by a soft petulant whine. she wasn't doing very well, at all. it was the moment of his eyes. the startlement wasn't shaking off. a huffy puff of air exhaled from her nostrils, as she made sure to keep her eyes darting from him to there, there being the everywhere that wasn't him. she was making herself take time now, really think about what she was going to say before she said it.

eureka. "pris. you call me pris. poof. i call you poof. my name is pris. your name isn't poof. i told you to call me pris. you never told me back." she spoke it like statements, but there was obviously a question in there. befuddled by nerves pris was convinced that if she just didn't use the question mark she wouldn't ask something that she didn't want the answer to. his name she felt was an answer she could handle. his name was safe.

"that's my cape." a helpless afterthought as her eyes landed on it draped over his arm, the words no more than a whisper. "i made it for research."

[B.D. Adams]

Many things could transfer in a single glance, even if that one particular occurrence only happened for a split second of time. It was time enough for what was needed. And what did Benjamin need but for the earlier threads that had been making their way through the body of young Pris to be sealed. Without that the forged connection, the work, would only be temporary and dissipate after a few hours.

Sealing the deal happened one of two ways: touch or eye contact. They were two things Benjamin always sought to accomplish when being with someone in the flesh. And while he preferred touch, eyes were the windows to the soul. All he needed was that single pass and Pris' eyes locking on his own for that second was all the time he needed to make
the threads permanent.

His smile grew wider as he inwardly reveled in his newly claimed prize while never taking his eyes off of her. There was something else now and it was coming from her. Some may call it fear, anxiety, nervousness, disheveled, any of those and more would do for the girl who was before him was not at ease and it was a delightful feeling.

And the more she talked the better he felt. It was due to the nature of what she spoke. The Wolf. Questioning if his fur was coming through and, if she had gotten into the cab would he have taken her on to immortality. "I can give you so much," came his sultry tones as he proceeded towards her, eyes still set on her face.

Smooth steps towards her as a predator who was heading to its prey. Her cape was secured and moved within the laws of gravity as he carried it. Pris had asked a question but then didn't want it's answer, it made him think to give the answer anyway. Even if he didn't..."Never back down from the answers you want." He continued to approach and unless she was backing away from him Benjamin was getting closer and taking up more of her field of vision. Nothing in his movements spoke that he was about to back off.

Besides, he had her cape. Though she did not specifically ask for it the fact that she had told him it was for research said she wished to have it back? Or that she was regretting having 'lost' it. She could have it back for he had only touched it. Like the three crayons she had let him borrow, and the painting he had given her. What harm was there in a touch?

If she never moved back from him he would continue towards her until he was half an arms reach away. If she continued to move, well he would continue moving forward.

"Benjamin," he said after a stretch of silence, a stress was put on the 'ja' of the word. He said it that particular way because of her ability to mimic things she heard and there was a benefit to her saying his name like that. His other hand pulled at the cape and he held it out as a gentleman would when offering to help a lady on with her coat.

"You wanted to see me. Here I am."

[Guest]

some eyes were safe to look into. others weren't. the only reason pris knew that was because of what she saw when she stared. her sight warped no matter where she stared on a person but when she looked at eyes there was always so much more. she'd learned long ago from benjamin's 'grandmother what big teeth you have' that his eyes wouldn't be good to look at. which is why pris reacted the way she did when their eyes met when he emerged from the cave, and it was why she wouldn't look at his eyes again.

she made the same animal sound as he came closer, even while he spoke. quiet, short, injured little howls. she was even hopping back and forth one foot to the other, alternating between wringing and shaking her hands. but the sounds and the movements of her body weren't connected to nervousness or fear this time - she wasn't even backing away as he came towards her. the fidgeting was the result of something else - pris trying to shake a question out of her head that wouldn't leave her alone. her stupid stupid mind, fixating again and trapping her out of all her other thoughts until it got an answer. she had to try to answer it, somehow, someway, or else she would remain stuck.

"wolf...wolf...wolf cape woods grandmother what big teeth you have give you me so much don't don't don't ask a question unless you really want the answer!" after the string of disjointed words pris spat that out rather hotly. she stamped her foot, turning to pace a few steps away and a few steps back. making sure to keep benjamin no closer than the distance he was when he stopped in front of her. maybe the jerk of her movements, and the fact that she was taking down at her hands, told poof her temper wasn't for him. it was for herself. "daddy said that. shut. up." after that growled command to herself she clapped her hands together hard, so hard that it stung. her punishment. she was obsessive about her hands and keeping them safe, and she knew punishments were supposed to be things that people wanted the very least.

when she struck them together she winced and her lips formed an 'ow' but there was no sound. her eyes closed. suddenly she pointed her index finger in the direction she thought she remembered he was and she said firmly. "don't. touch. not fair not fair not fair. my eyes need a break." did poof play by the 'not fair' rule? pris had no choice but to hope so. she wasn't just closing her eyes for fun, what she said was true - if she was going to get unstuck her eyes needed a break. what a terrible time for this to happen, when she was with pirate-maker-grandmother-what-big-teeth-you-have-poof. but it was because of him that it was happening. all from what she saw in one second of looking into his eyes. so many questions and her mind wouldn't rest until there were answers.

deep breaths. in. out. in. out. in...stupidstupidstupidbrain! out. she wasn't feeling any calmer. her brain wasn't behaving any better. maybe if she kept going with the poem. yes yes yes. "we passed the school, where children strove at recess in the ring we passed the fields of...school." that word was said with inflection, a realization which stopped her from continuing the poem. her eyes popped open, looking up at the sky to make sure she didn't look at him by accident. "school. that was you. was that you? you're in my room. are you? in the book. the wolf. 'i only have so many answers to your questions'." mimicking the book's gritty voice. it was amazing how well she could do it, the girlishness of her tone almost entirely gone during the mimick. if he only had so many answers...there was no reason to ask the questions!!

there was the answer for her mind. immediately it quieted. and pris was free. "benjamin," she said his name just as he'd said it to her and she always would, just as he suspected. her eyes still looking up at tree canopies and sky. but that didn't mean she wouldn't be able to tell if he moved, she'd long ago trained her peripheral vision. "i need a parent. a new one. do you need a cape?" maybe she was looking to trade. from her research she'd learned that big bad wolves liked red hooded capes.

[B.D. Adams]

Ben-ja-min.
Benjamin.

A three-syllable word comprised of double the amount of sounds. It was those sounds and syllables that when put together and spoken verbally caused an act of power. An invocation. A request. A specific calling function that would call his attention from anywhere he happened to be and beg his presence. That did not mean that he would automatically appear, but there stood a greater chance of that happening. What it would do is cause him to listen in specifically.

Another person could day his name in the same manner and it would evoke no result because they would not be Pris.

Something else those chosen sounds put together to make those three syllables that formed this name was something Pris would be able to feel. When spoken there would be a tug upon her heart. It was a single tug that caused the heart to stop beating for the count of one. It was just another mark.

"I did not physically touch you Pris." and he hadn't. It could be that he was still going by the first request so told him months before: to not touch her. He said that he wasn't. He has touched her things, but he had yet to actually place his hands upon her. "And as for the book," the wolfish grin rested upon his face. Benjamin took a slow step to the side and began to walk around her left side.

"That was me. And it wasn't me. For you see, I am no book," he almost chuckled but held it in. The smile staying as he saw that now she was trying to keep her eyes from him all together. "I sent the book to be with you. To guide you. To lead you to the safety of your precious Donnie Duck when you ran." need that she remember that the book told her how to find the Doctor.

In his circle about her he kept the cape held up and open. He stopped when at her back - that is unless she turned as he walked. In that case they would be locked in a game of turn-around and he could circle for near countless rotations before getting dizzy and not have a break in his stride.

He pulled in a deep breath of her scent bringing his face closer to her ear. "Do you want your parent?" The way it was posed it sounded as though he was suggesting making the girls parent appear where they were.

Benjamin pulled his head back and stood straight. "Or are you asking me to be your parent?"

So he stood there. The cape still held out.

[Guest]

ba-bum, ba-bum, ba...ba-bum, ba-bum. like her heart went statue-still. she wouldn't have felt the stillness except that there was a 'bum' missing. so well trained in fixations and details to keep her in control of her own mind, when regularity went irregular it was something pris noticed. of course she didn't know why. but it was enough to knit her eyebrows and pucker her up with a lemon face. with a short quiet whine, she made each of her hands pet the other. as if the punishment had the caused the missing 'bum'.

"my most precious donnie duck," she whispered. to her that 'most' was very very important and she felt benjamin needed to know it. pris was still, just her eyes shifting to change which piece of sky she looked at. her neck craned to do so, at most. but it wasn't any piece of sky that mattered. it was keeping poof in the corner of her eye. she needed to know where he was in relation to the rest of the landscape. every time either of them moved it changed the painting.

then benjamin walked behind her. pris was a very particular girl, beyond just touches and voices. things over her shoulder...the injured little howl was back as pris spun in the opposite direction to face him again. he was walking around her counterclockwise, she moved clockwise. the choice was instinctual, with the hope that they would meet in the middle, face each other and be still. but benjamin kept moving, so she kept moving too. her spin slowed to match his walking. an adjustment she had to make to ensure she and benjamin would remain face to face.

"colors-book-painting-cape, things so many things." the turning made it so much harder to figure out where to put her eyes. thoughts crashed like cymbals and now they were tumbling out her lips. "my things. asked for things. but..." she screwed up her face into a lemon again. letting a held breath out in a huff. the colors and the cape were hers and he was trying to give them back. the book and the painting she'd asked for, one from the library and one from him. she was good at making connections between dots and dots but...but what?

"but i have to keep the painting in a closet under a sheet!" she lowered her gaze to look at the negative space just over benjamin's shoulder. her eye-corner could see him better this way. she told him where she kept the painting to see how he felt about that. "i'm afraid she'll talk." that was true. "if i had opened the book again what then?" rhymed on purpose, because she attributed rhyming to the book.

was she getting dizzy? she was used to a constantly moving world, since she'd lived for years by changing her gaze every few seconds. "new parent, new!" a rocket fast answer. "my dad is dead. my mom's a bitch. you're a poofer maker pirate big bad wolf benjamin - "

ba...ba-bum. again. when she felt it pris stopped like she was flash frozen. her left leg slightly forward, her right leg extended back with just her toe touching the grass, her arms extended with each finger thinking of its own separate posture, her eyes a bit wide and her lips agape, she made for a very striking statue-girl. a very lucky statue girl, since all of her was in the light of day and none of her was in his pirate cave. she stared at that blank space just next to his ear. at that she stared and stared.

pris whispered like she thought everything around them would break. "parents don't say to the sky that never fades, 'i think you're lovely' and then..." the fingers of her one hands fluttered as she swept her arm up, putting a name to the gesture. "poof. i've had one of those parents. my mother had enough. and she went poof." her jaw was very tight. trying to keep her lip from trembling. usually she managed to talk about her mother not wanting her anymore flatly like a fact. not this time. coming here was a plan that pris was suddenly realizing was not all the way thought through, and now because of his question she was stuck. "...you already said with you i wouldn't be okay." her voice was shaking with the emotions she was trying to keep quiet. "and he's my most precious donnie duck!"

to him her last words might seem unrelated. to pris it very much wasn't. even the slightest possibility that anything would ever take her away from donald blake filled pris with cold panic. did she think benjamin would? she felt like she didn't know right from left right now. which is why she had to say it. she was still standing like a statue and she hadn't really answered his last question.

[B.D. Adams]

"And so you shall have your most...precious Donnie Duck, for why would I take you from him?" It was a rhetorical question but he didn't doubt that she may attempt to answer.

The whining that she did was like a sweet sound for he was beginning to learn that whenever she did it in response to something he said or did that it meant she was bothered in some way. It was always pleasant to know that he affected people. It was something that made him smile. Like now.

Benjamin was smiling. A slight curl to the corners of his lips even as they engaged in the impromptu dance of the red patched cape. Even as they went round and around his stride was smooth and steady. Even pace with an even step with the illusion of a constant glide instead of individual steps. That was the smoothness of his gait. He watched her as she moved and he even would give her the satisfaction of being face to face and stopped when she did. There were some people who wanted to see death coming for they thought themselves to be brave. Others preferred otherwise.

Then she said his name. The heart missed a beat and the smile on his face grew a fraction of an inch. He felt that band growing and increasing it's hold upon the girl. How many times would she say my name, he wondered. If she said it to often more would begin to happen than a simple skipping beat of the heart. This time she realized that something happened whenever she spoke his name and she was currently frozen in place.

Benjamin tipped his head to the side, oh the delight that rested behind his dark brown eyes. He let go of one side of the cape and let it dangle from the fingers of the other as he studied her form. He had seen females frozen in motion before - some he had even done himself - and it was always to look at the lines they made with their bodies. And so he studied her while she continued to talk, his eyes traveling down the curves of her neck, arms, fingers and the pose of her foot.

"Parents, take pride in their children." He spoke as he flicked his wrist, which still held the cape, and then gave it a shake. "To them their children are lovely, the best, capable. A parent watches over their child." He took a small step forward and stretched out the hand with the cape to reach behind Pris, unless she was going to move.

"If you were with me you wouldn't be okay, but you would be disciplined, and taught." His words were smooth and directed straight to her as he threaded them along the ties that had already been set in her when she was in the cave. There's nothing to fear, the words seemed to say, he speaks the truth. And he did.

He held out his other hand to her side. Never did he touch her. "All you have to do, Pris, is accept me and you will not have to fear that the painting will talk or anything the book might say. You will have me." This could turn to a very fortuitous situation for him. Not that she would be an apprentice, but there were so many uses for her ability that could be put to his use.

And she would gain so much. "And you will be able to keep your most precious Donnie Duck." If she was separated from the man she felt strongly towards he knew that his plan would not work. For the moment she had to have him in her life.

So Benjamin stood there with his arms extended to either side of her and waited.

[Guest]

it's a thing of wonder how much importance, faith and need are put in words when they are arranged in a certain order. the schizophrenic mind, while a behemoth to endure, is also a thing of wonder. as benjamin spoke to pris these two wonderments joined as if they were thunderclap and lightening - two large forces finally striking together in the same instant.

when they did, the floodgates within pris' mind were unleashed. she saw handfuls and handfuls of memories, all at the exact same time. like a person standing in front of a wall that is made of nothing but small television screens, each projecting its own sound and image. to the regularly functioning mind the litany of visuals and sound would be a senseless din. to pris, it was simply a collage and she comprehended it all at once. perhaps for her it was so simple because the images were all connected. the sound from every screen was either one voice, or another - hers, or her fathers. all the images on each 'screen' displayed her or her daddy as well, though some featured others, too:

her first day of school, clinging to her father's leg crying, "prissy, i promise you'll be okay."
the first fall off her bicycle, making the worst cuts she'd ever had, "prissy, i promise you'll be okay."
her best friend moved to a different state when she was nine, "prissy, i promise you'll be okay."
the pillowed walls of her grandma's room smothered grandma to death, "prissy, i promise you'll be okay."
the doctor said he wasn't sure, they needed pris for brain tests, "prissy, i promise you'll be okay."
but not even a month after that, her daddy was no longer okay.
he was gone.

and there were so many more screens than just those, so many more. pris saw them all, and it lasted no more than ten seconds. a tiny handful of seconds which made the lonely girl understand completely where her needs were coming from for the first time. when the realization sparked to life within her, the transformation of her expression and the details of her eyes was like watching dawn light the horizon.

why did priscilla grace ganesvoort need a parent so desperately?
to keep daddy's promise that she would be okay.
what 'okay' meant to pris was probably different from it was for anyone else in the world, but to be okay meant more to her than the world.

because it also meant so much to her father. "but i need. to be. okay, poof." each word earnestly emphasized as pris stepped around and to the side. she repositioned herself parallel to the mouth of the cave, not inside of it. as she faced benjamin with his arms reached out, her eyes were imploring. and he would be able to see that because pris also changed where she looked and how. while she still wasn't looking into his eyes, the eccentric girl was now looking at different points of benjamin's face - the nose, the cheek, the forehead, the eyebrow... she had been so reluctant to gaze anywhere on poof's body after that moment they met eyes, but now those green eyes were darting point to point on poof every few seconds like she'd never had the hesitation to do so.

because the fear that kept her from looking at him was gone. there was nothing to fear even now that she could see where his arms had been reaching. nothing to fear because he spoke the truth. it just so happened that the truth he spoke became the roadblock between pris and getting what they both wanted - poof the parent. "daddy promised i would be. i have to keep his promise." pleading was in her emphatic tone, because to pris staying 'okay' was as important to her as air. "you said you can be many things. be what needs to be so you can be my parent that keeps me okay. that's what a swashbuckler would do." and poof had told her he could be that, too. her swashbuckler.

"and a parent. because 'a parent watches over their child'." said just as he had spoken the words to her not a moment ago. another incredible mimic. pris folded her arms across her chest with an obstinate manner that was definitive if she were able to, she would have coupled that with a stubborn teenage stare. she was sixteen-years-old and she was the recipient of exceptions to the rules all the time because of her illness.

so she was a girl plagued by compulsions who couldn't help wanting what she wanted just how she wanted it.

[B.D. Adams]

He had already told her that she would not be 'okay' but the context of that word could be so many different things. For instance he was under the impression that 'okay' for her meant that he would not harm her and that he could not promise.

He could, but it would be a lie. Though what was a lie to him but simple words tossed out without a care. Lies were useless, over the course of years he had come to that conclusion. What was the point in telling a lie when the truth was much more effective and was often harder for the other person to hear and had better results for him. When all that was taken into consideration why would he lie?

Parents disciplined their children and by ways of causing them physical pain and as he watched her movements and listened to her words he thought of other meanings. When he was a boy, long ago when he was different than what he was today, Moms use to say that everything was going to be 'all right' whenever the men came to the house looking for Pops. That everything was going to be 'all right' whenever they had to move.

When a man approached him a few years after his fathers death, that man had told him that that everything was going to be 'all right'.

Maybe 'all right' and 'okay' were the same thing in this regard. When he looked at it through that perspective he understood. Now, he would be able to answer her in the way that she needed him to answer. Benjamin's stance was steady still, his arms not wavering, as they stood open awaiting for her to accept his embrace a ghost of a different smile over the grin. And he spoke.

"You will be okay, Pris. You will be okay."

And it was believable because it was the truth.

[Guest]

"that's all you have to say." an unimpressed teenager, how sweet their sound. pris clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth and heaved a most heavy sigh as her eyes wandered away to consult the sky. she was even about to stamp her foot to show her displeasure, but she was distracted by a tickle on her forearm. she looked down to see a plump red ladybug crawling up towards her elbow. "bug. did you hear that? poof the sayer of 'you won't be okay' twice just said 'you will be okay' twice." pris told the ladybug that as she slowly unfolded her arms. creeping her hand towards the ladybug with her index finger extended. but the bug flew off just after pris finished her sentence. surely it was a coincidence, but to pris' unconventional mind it meant something. "see. even the ladybug knows words don't work like that. they're not integers positive and negative. you can't make them cancel each other out."

her math teacher would have been shocked to hear her say that. and her english teacher too, since she'd used math to make an analogy which was english. but those were the teachers that didn't like her because she wasn't like all their other students. more importantly those two men were the teachers that underestimated pris the most. and for the first time since she'd met benjamin she felt like he had underestimated her just now. opening his arms and changing his tune like she'd forgotten everything he said before.

it was enough to make her frown. pris crossed her arms tightly, her eyes staring up at the cloudless sky above benjamin's head. staring at that particular patch meant she'd be able to see if he moved. "the big bad wolf couldn't really turn into grandmother. it was a disguise." muttered. was she talking to him, or herself? she rocked forward onto the balls of her feet, and rocked back on her heels. repeating the motion back and forth. "i don't like your now disguise. the 'i'm just like everyone else you'll be okay' disguise. you were different. the right poof, if i said to him 'planet what are you doing out of the sky,' the right poof would say back 'earth child don't play games with me neither of us are dumb'." a strange little smile after pris said that. as if she was imagining the day she was tapping for secret passages with benjamin there instead of venis.

"i like that poof. the one who doesn't underestimate me and who would know if i was testing him or playing games or using my brainsick to avoid making a real answer. that's the poof i'd want for a parent. so stay him and really talk to me about whether or not i'd be okay. because i know you say things and leave out lots of words so you don't give away the end of the story. i know that about you." pris dropped her eyes as she said that last sentence, looking between each of his cheeks and sometimes his forehead too. she was still rocking back and forth slowly, and she felt very calm. there was nothing to be afraid of. they were just having a very important conversation.

pris' distant little smile was back and brighter this time, and she rocked a little faster. her voice dropped to tell the secret of that smile. "i like that you want to parent me, poof. it makes my insides dance. because i'm different and you're different and you would show me a real world. no 'don't look prissy' or 'don't ask prissy'. i know being allowed to see the real world has risks." she knew, it's not like pris was ignorant of the potential dangers of what she was considering. she didn't want to be babied. she didn't want to be sheltered. but she didn't want to be given carte blanche and 'just be careful's either. the latter was all she was getting right now because all she had in her life were cool older brother figures, and no parent figures.

she clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth and stopped her rocking. "but your arms are rushing. why are they rushing?" her little frown was back as she looked to his open arms. "tell your arms we haven't talked about important things. like 'you will have me'," a mimic of his tone as usual. "does that mean you would move into the room next to mine? not duck's room but the one on the other side? and if you were poof the parent would i have to be nice to the bitchwitch?" the look on her face, it was obvious pris wasn't keen on being nice.

as she asked those things pris crept a step towards him and a little to the side. there was about a foot between them when she crouched down a little to peer at the position his arm made. now she was the one studying a person in stillness. like she was trying to figure out a puzzle. "that's why i don't get why your arms are in a rush."

[B.D. Adams]

Benjamin scoffed at what he heard. Now Pris was on the verge of being insolent and it was something that he did not have much time for. "They are words Pris. And words can mean whatever you want them to, whenever you want them too, as long as you know how to use them for the situation."

Her study of his arms would come to an end for they would lower and come back down to his sides but only after flinging the cloak over his right shoulder. There was no need for him to continually hold it with his hands as long as it was on his person he could continue to infuse himself in the fabric. What was the purpose of that? Did there have to be one other than it being something that he wanted to do?

It was only a way to better track her. Sense her. Feel her presence whenever she had it on. That was all for now.

"You will be okay and you won't be okay. The same as people who are alive but also dead. An oxymoron. Words. By now you should know that I don't lie to you." To you. That left open the possibility that he may lie to other people, even if he didn't, but Pris had no way of knowing that did she.

He was looking down on her in the regard that he was taller and she had moved in closer. There was nothing to do but look down upon her or look away, and why would he ever not look at his target? "I am the same name you call me be then as I am now but yet you say that I am different merely because of words. It is not my words that should concern you but my actions." Such as his current action of closing the foot of space by half the distance. The action of his fingers flexing at the side in eager anticipation for what he could have which was right in front of him.

He could end this game right here. Right now. All he would have to do is reach out and touch her. Grab her. She would be his. There would be no point in this though and so he stilled his desire and kept his patience. Pris was worth more than that. Was better than that.

Pris was sure to have heard the saying of actions speaking louder than words and this was especially true for him. Benjamin was not a man who had a lot to say much of the time as whatever he wanted to convey came through in actions.

"I will not move into the Inn and you will not have to be nice to anyone you do not feel like being nice to, that includes myself. Everything has consequences." Even the things that he did though they were hardly known.

"Decide for yourself Pris, don't base your decision on what you want and fix justification for your actions by leaning on something so frivolous as words."

He drew the cloak off of his shoulder and held it out to her in an open palm to take of she wanted. It was the cloak that separated them now.

[Guest]

benjamin was about to see a pretty rare thing. rare unless it was dommy or donnie duck or maybe lumie the fox-boy creature who were with her. a bright, brilliant grin lit up the girl's face. now that was blossoming. not what flowers did or the silly growing up females did, no it was that smile that just bloomed across pris' face like a flower spreading wide to be filled with the light of the sun.

"yes!" was the thrilled exclamation that came with it. the sort of whoopee sound an adoring fan would make at a sporting event, or that a child would make at getting exactly what they wanted for christmas. the latter was right on. all benjamin said to her and what's more how he said it to her was another reason why she was considering his offer to be a parent instead of running back to the second floor of the inn to ask her most precious donnie duck. poof wasn't afraid to be stern with her. he didn't lie and his stern wasn't the kind of stern she got from teachers or people in restaurants or elsewhere that were that way just because they didn't like her.

it was the stern of caring. he cared about her. she was sure of it now, as sure as sunrise coming before sunset. or did sunset come before sunrise? or were both true? that was the kind of sure pris was about benjamin's caring - the kind of sure that came with paradoxical questions. because while she knew he cared - just like she knew there were sunrises and she knew there were sunsets - she also knew that there were just as many ways to care about a person as there were ways for a person to be okay. including oxymoron ways of caring.

still, he cared. in a way that pris felt was good. so she would care right back. "i love you poof. even if you are a big bad wolf. i think that's okay." she spoke that as a decision. there were as many ways to love someone as there were to care about someone or be okay, after all. how pris meant those three words to benjamin were different than how she spoke them to dommy or donald, and how she meant them was probably very different than most people ever meant those three words. then pris sucked on her lower lip thoughtfully, her eyes bouncing from cheek to cheek to forehead on him. finally she added with a little nod, "sometimes teeth are handy." she knew. she was a biter.

after that first decision, pris took the cape. to her it wasn't a big important moment or symbolic of anything, nor did it have any other meaning besides it was her cape and she was taking it back. in fact her choice to take it now was simply because of how he changed offering it to her. now that he wasn't hovering behind her like a looming larry the cape was officially okay to take. "they used to call me oxymoron at my old school. at my new school they haven't thought to call me that yet." while the fact they called her that had bothered her very much back then, it didn't now. or if it did, it didn't show.

she did not put the cloak on. she held it in her two hands, the bottom of it crumpled in the grass as she held it by the hood. she did not step back, because she didn't think there was a need to. what she did do was hold up one hand as high as her head, flexing her fingers in the exact same way he'd flexed his own. besides the height difference of the gesture she was quite the copycat. her way of pointing out to him that she already paid attention to actions. actions were were part of the landscape and pris obsessively paid attention to how the canvas around her changed, always. she noticed details that many others missed because of it. as she flexed she made the snarl face that she did when reminded of his teeth, and she said, "grr." when she did that she looked right in his eyes. for a second. a daring second. that was a decision in itself.

but just in case he didn't know what that moment meant, as her eyes darted to trade between his cheeks and her hand lowered to clutch the cloak again with both hands she said, "yes. poof the parent can raise the oxymoron. so long as she can still keep her most precious duck."

now if he had said she had to be nice to the bitchwitch, that totally would have been a deal breaker.

[B.D. Adams]

The shout of jubilation did not go unnoticed. Even if he were not standing directly in front of her and off at one of his locations he still would have been able to hear and feel the happiness she shoot out with that single word yes.

It caused the right corner of his left eye to twitch. It wasn't an obvious twitch and if you happened to blink at the moment of the twitch or were not watching his eyes at that moment it would have been missed all together. That is how subtle it was and how quick it passed. Then again, if anyone happened to catch it the act could easily be attributed to him being thrown off and unprepared for the sudden burst.

Though that was not case at all. The twitch was due to the sudden burst of innocent happiness. She wasn't happy because someone got what they deserved or because she was rescued from a dastardly foe. Pris was happy for the sake of being happy and there were no strings attached. It was needling.

Experiencing someone who emitted that type of energy was rare and he suddenly found himself wondering if Pris had many of those moments and, if she did, whether they lasted any longer than her 'yes'.

Pris continued to talk and he continued to listen, hardening himself against all the happiness she continued to release. Aside from the twitch there was nothing suggestive to be seen about how he was handling the situation.

He didn't say anything to her 'I love you' confession but he would do something. After she took the cloak back from him he tipped his head to the side by an inch as he looked at her. That cloak, what was in it now was obsolete but that didn't mean it would be undone. Would she think his arms were in a rush now, after what she just said?

The right hand came up from his side, brushed along the air less than a hand span away from her body. Outlining her from the bottom up yet never touching or giving the illusion that he was going to touch. The warmth was just that: warmth. It wasn't invasive or intrusive. It didn't seek to sway her opinions or get her to do what he wanted. There was no need for that as he already had his ties in her, and she had his name.

It moved slowly, inch by inch and gave her every opportunity to move away from the hand that was climbing the air alongside her. There was even a faint smile cast upon his lips. Arguably a caring smile. "You're mine now Pris. I won't let any other force claim you.".

It was his response to her confession. Those were his words but they were coupled by his actions. The left hand stayed steady at his side. His right hand was up now at her face and he took his first two fingers and pressed them against her third eye. It was a light and quick press and the only thing to be felt was a momentary wave heat that was gone as soon as it was there. When it was done he removed his hand and took a step away from her and towards the cave.

"It's done, my oxymoron. Pris. You know how to reach me." there was nothing in that touch to be afraid of. It felt like him because it was him. The only thing it did was let her know that he was there. With her.

"Be well with your most precious Donnie Duck."

[Guest]

even though pris had picked on his words before and called the way he arranged them faulty mathmaking, she was a girl of actions. she was an art-maker, after all, and her art never included words or letters unless there was absolutely a reason for it. in fact, one day benjamin might discover that pris was rather apt at communicating and interpreting actions to the point where she and he could have entire conversations of them without needing any silly stupid words. if he'd ever want to do such a thing. if he did pris would likely find it liberating. and a very fun game. like mimes, or dancers, or birds flying higher than sound cares to go.

so pris was watching benjamin's actions like a hawk. especially since he was the one that told her that's what she should concern herself with. had he noticed how the manner of her gaze changed since he advised her to scrutinize him? there was a single concentration crinkle on her brow, a little squint to her eye, and the dart of her eyes seemed determined. if only she could stare. she would. for this eccentric girl it was the best way to see actions. the actions inside that no one else could see.

when he tipped his head, she tipped hers in mimic. as soon as his hand moved towards her, her gaze shifted to follow that movement. immediately she knew - he was fluffing her feelings again. she remembered the gesture from the day they stood outside the cave last, and she interpreted that moment as him petting her feelings because of the warm purr that had filled her that day which filled her again now. that had been a very good day with poof. without that day, she certainly wouldn't have accepted his offer to be a parent now.

it a was a moment she was happy was repeating. to show this, pris would fluff his feelings back. moving her hand in the exact same pattern that he had moved his around her the day of the painting. maneuvering around his hand which was traveling around her with ease and without a single accidental brush. did poof enjoy having his feelings fluffed? she hoped so. the warmth she felt now from him as she moved her hand in return was almost enough to make her say purr. which was pris-speak for happy.

but then he touched. it was something pris didn't expect, he'd never ever touched her before. when the two fingers landed on her forehead it was much like pressing a button. when a button is pressed, something happens. in this case he pressed the invisible eye in her forehead and it brought out a surprised squeak. pris the squeaky toy. as the wave of heat spread through her, the girl looked still as a shocked statue. the only movement she made was the part of her lips into an 'o' just like the painting he'd made of her, and through that 'o' shape she inhaled a bewildered slow motion gasp.

the wave felt different from when he'd fluffed her feelings. but she wasn't sure why it felt different. or what felt different. she just knew it was now - different.

as he took a step towards the cave, she took a step away from it. her eyes darted around the area fast as lightening. as if something in the trees or grass or sky or dirt could tell her how things were different. but they couldn't. and yet...to her all the things she looked at were different too. normally, something this curious and confusing would have her mind nagging her with a question demanding to be answered and she would be huffing one of those high-pitched whines. she wasn't doing that though. instead she was quietly transfixed in the mystery. with a lack of fear or frustration, pris was just plain fascinated.

"yes," she whispered that word outward. eyes shifting here there and everywhere as if she expected to see the word she said show in the air somehow. testing. "yes yes yes, parent poof. i know how." she leaned forward as she slowly dropped each word from her lips. she even carefully crept in a small circle around trying to catch the spot where the words would show. she was convinced they would, but she couldn't find them. and yet she felt like she had. it was a very surreal moment for a girl who already lived with one foot in the surreal as it was.

because she had turned around, she was facing benjamin again. when her eyes finally landed on him, the bright green pools quickly shifted from this spot to that spot on and around his body and she leaned forward in a sneaky crouch to tell him a secret. "i am going to go in your cave someday, parent poof. i am going to go in and be okay." she punctuated that with another rare thing. a laugh. it was an impish little laugh, like the kind a pixie would make after doing mischief.

and then? pris scampered off feeling sunny as a summer day and surreal as rain falling upwards towards the sky. to find the path to find the inn to find the stairs that would take her to find her most precious donnie duck.

what made pris feel she could enter the ching-a-ching cave someday and be okay? well, somehow things were different. so maybe it wasn't the cave that changed. maybe it was the oxymoron's definition of 'okay'.

[fin!]

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