pris and tossing family in the trash -][- open

[Guest]

sometimes friends really weren't friends. pris had learned that when she was thirteen-years-old, thanks to mandy donnelley, best friend until the day pris' daddy died. and sometimes family wasn't really family. pris had learned that when she was sixteen, thanks to marlene ganesvoort, mother until the day she was tired of pris' diagnosis. apparently just in case that second lesson hadn't hit her home base deeply enough, mere months away from her eighteenth birthday pris was learning it again.

because dommy had sent a letter. it started with 'dear pris', and it ended with 'love always dommy'. but considering what was written in between, pris didn't believe that she was a dear pris at all, and nevermind the love always.

the letter was upstairs, floating facedown in the bathroom sink on a bed of cold water with the ink slowly running off the two pages. pris was on her way downstairs, two large trash bags bumping into the backs of her legs as the contents inside were rattled and tossed around each time they hit a new stair. the bags were filled with some of dommy's stuff, the stuff that he wasn't brave enough to come get. not when the many stamps on the letter showed that it came all the way from earth. in the letter dommy had so carefully outlined and apologized for all the reasons why he 'would be' leaving rhy'din, not realizing that post offices would cry out the truth - that he'd actually already left.

hampton, virginia. dommy had moved back to his old home. without asking her if that home or the newport news that was her old home were someplace she'd like to be.

bang, bang, bang, clank, bang, said dommy's things behind her as she dragged them down two flights of stairs. this first trip she went straight past the front desk, and out the front door. the plastic of the bags getting scraped up with small tears as she pulled her half-brother's things all the way down to the curb. there pris let go of the handles of both bags, so that she had both hands free to pick up one of the bags and heave it over top her head, to drop it down at the curb with all the force her five foot frame could muster in its tip top state of upset. after it hit the ground with a smack, the infuriated girl jumped on top of it, nearly twisting her ankle and falling on the ground as she was determined to smash herself down into her brother's belongings hard and soft which made the bag a not-so-safe trampoline.

red-faced and heart racing, pris climbed off the first bag to pick up the second, holding that one over her head as well. after she slammed the second bag to the curb on top of the first one, this time she dropped to her knees, skinning the fabric of her lollypop swirled tights as she bruised her knuckles by punching the second bag as hard and as fast as she could. but she didn't make any sound - the only sounds were the heave of her breath through the gritted teeth of her snarl, and the protest of the getting-punched trash. when pris exhausted herself, she stood up and gave the two bags a harsh and angry kick with the toe of her canary yellow go-go boots, before spinning around to return inside.

stomp, stomp stomp, all the way back to room 206. there were three more bags of trash to take out, and one of those was filled mostly with pris' things. anything she possessed that dommy had given her or that reminded her of him, today it would be kicked to the curb. thinking about her mother that abandoned her had always turned out a waste of time, and today pris was pretty sure that with dommy it'd be the same way. since she'd last seen her brother, her dead father had cared more for her than dommy had. and boy was that not something everyone could say.

bang, bang, smack, rattle, clatter, said these three bags as they followed her down the stairs. but she didn't go out to the curb with them, not yet. this time pris stopped at the front desk, because she had an envelope in her mouth. inside was dommy's key and a large wad of guilt money that he'd sent her, probably the last she'd ever see from him. in the pocket of her leprechaun fashion green dress was her own key. she'd already been unofficially living in room 209 with her most precious doctor donald for months, the man who cared enough to take it upon himself to dance and squeeze paperwork through the system to become her legal guardian months ago.

it was time to make it official.

[Elessar]

When it came to having friends who weren't really friends Elessar felt he could relate on a level. He had considered and called Armandeus his friend for many years now, but given the recent incidents between the two Elessar was starting to question if perhaps he had been wrong after all. The nagging notion that their friendship had been a farce created in desperate times was something he hadn't been quite able to come to terms with and so remained in the back of his mind. As for his other friends, it had been quite a while since he'd seen them, but Elessar only had himself to blame for that and the hermit habit he could not seem to break.

At the moment Elessar wasn't dwelling on such negative thoughts, despite the fact that he was thinking about the past. Stretched out the length of the window seat in his room, with his journal open in his lap, the elf was preparing to write when the stomp, stomp, stomp of someone going down the hallway broke into his concentration. Now Elessar was used to the sounds of people coming and going through the hallway at all manner of the day but this was possibly the first time he'd ever heard anyone tromping through like a heard of elephants, which meant it was worth checking out.

By the time he'd moved from the window to look out the door the stomping sounds had changed into a racket that was heading down the stairs so after pulling the door to his room closed, Elessar followed. With all the noise the bags were making it was relatively easy to follow the sound and the elf caught up fast only to gape when he caught sight of Pris being the one pulling the bags. While the elf didn't know her that well, besides the brief time he'd been a mud man, the banging, clanging bags had him wondering if she was preparing to leave the inn. The pang that came with that thought surprised him - Elessar wasn't ready to loose another friend, especially one he'd just made, so when she stopped at the front desk Elessar went as well. He moved out from behind her and towards the side, almost behind the desk so he could see her. "Fanyare," since he still didn't know her real name, he used the one he had given her, "Do you need help with anything?"

[Guest]

"purr." said the disgruntled teenager when she saw elessar move into her range of view out of her eye corners. the purr was muffled because of the envelope in her mouth, but it was sincere. despite her current mood, seeing her mudman made her happy. him asking her what she needed was a lot better than who else might've asked, and pris knew that. but before she could talk to him about what she wanted, there were a few things she had to do first.

first, pris let go of the three bags she'd just dragged down the stairs. next, she turned to them, and gave each bag its own fierce kick - as if to warn the trash bags that there was more of that where those kicks came from if they refused to behave. and finally, pris parted her lips and let the fat envelop drop. after it hit the counter with a smack, pris reached up and turned it around, flipped it over, and opened the flap, all with smooth, purposeful flutters of her fingers.

dommy's key was pulled out by the very tip of her index finger. as if it was a hot potato, pris shoved it away from her across the counter so that it rolled onto the ledger with a clump. "currishp. that's dommy dunderhead's key. he's given up on taking care of me and he's not coming back." even though her actions showed otherwise, how pris reported what happened was without feeling, like she was just reciting facts. her other hand dropped down, into the pocket of her dress. she pulled out her own key, dropping it on the counter with a clatter.

after watching the key on the counter for a minute, pris lifted her here-there-and-everywhere gaze up to elessar. "that one's mine. i don't want it anymore. i'm staying next door with my duck. his name is donald blake and he takes care of me now because he's a good doctor with a boom in his heart that makes him braver than stupid brothers can be." even though the words she chose had more emotional choices than what she said so far, pris was still reporting facts. it's what she did because she wasn't good at feeling when the feelings were painful. she wasn't good at it at all.

[Elessar]

Pris said purr and Elessar couldn't contain the grin that came when he heard that muffled word. He'd only heard it once from her, but he'd taken it as a good thing then and as a good thing now. He was happy to see her as well, even if the bags she had been dragging down the steps seemed to indicate that she was in the process of moving.

Although . . . Elessar could be wrong about the whole moving part. It was probably a good thing Pris had turned away from him when she gave the bags their kicks because of the look on Elessar's face had to be priceless. It was an interesting cross between wide-eyed shock and a wince and the unrestrained curiosity of wanting to know just what was in those bags for her to kick them so hard. By the time the envelope was dropped on the desk the elf had schooled his expression into something slightly less shell-shocked obvious and reached out to take the key and the ledger underneath it.

Opening the book and flipping through it's pages for this dommy was a good distraction for the thoughts coursing through the elf's head now. He was no longer wondering what was in the bags that deserved being kicked but now wondering how anyone in their right mind could just give up on someone and leave. You had to forgive Elessar here, but abandonment was somewhat of a hot issue to him because when you got right down to it, there wasn't much difference in abandoning someone as throwing them out of a village, so he was taking it a bit personal. Besides Fanyare was his friend and that justified enough reason for him to be a tad upset about her words.

Ah-ha! Elessar wasn't horribly familiar with common names and less-so with nicknames but he was willing to bet that the Dominic on the page he'd stopped on was the Dommy she had mentioned. If the assumption was wrong then, well, he really wanted to know just what name Dommy went too. Picking up the key she had dropped he turned it over to find the number and match it to the one in the book beside the name. It looked like it was a match after all, which meant the other name written there, Pris had to be hers. Wasn't that interesting? Blue gray eyes lifted away from the book to give Fanyare a curious look.

Pris. It wasn't the strangest name Elessar had heard, but it was pretty close. He liked it and that got Pris another grin, but could she forgive him for being a bit bias and thinking that he liked Fanyare just a tad better?

The other key was dropped on the desk, snapping Elessar out of his thoughts and raised his head to look at her. Whatever he had been about to say was lost because she was speaking about moving next door with a "Duck?" He parroted with a rather confused facial expression to match. Had he heard her right? She was living with a duck, like the animal? Oh. The rest of her words as well as the name caught up to him then and Elessar's pale features colored slightly as he realized that the duck was not a duck after all. Not just that, he had actually met the man once before. "I met him once. He's a good man." And he gave her the same grin as earlier because this meant she would be staying. "Do you need a key to his room?"

[Guest]

elessar would probably be relieved that when pris kicked the bags there were no sounds of yelping, crying, or whimpering, or any other signs that would suggest some form of life was trapped within the bags. just sounds of clanking, cracking and crumpling could be heard, the moaning sounds of belongings that were about to be shown the curb. and once the kicking was complete, pris didn't give any of the bags even a tiny glance. the items were forgotten while she dealt with currishp and the issue of keys.

this meant that while he flipped pages and fiddled, miss pris was watching him like a hawk. big green eyes didn't even do a whole lot of here there and everywhere, instead they stayed on him to study the different parts of his face. so when he gave her the curious look, her emerald eyes were ready for it. and her answer was ready too, because the oddity that was her mind connected and reconnected dots based on everything she saw. "ganesvoort. forward-goose. like the the one at the front of the v. daddy was dutch and the dutch like geese." that last part she didn't know for a fact, she'd just always assumed. just like she assumed that's what her mudman's look was for. because she got that look a lot when people saw her last name. the look was even worse when they had to speak it aloud and had never heard it spoken before. like teachers on the first day of school.

"yush." a bit of mush-speak and a pleased as pie smile from pris when elessar mentioned her most precious donald blake, caretaker of this girl who was quickly becoming She Who None Will Care For. "he's a doctor and he lets me paint his walls and hang new walls and even though he makes me go to school when i don't want to he loves me and he feeds me potatoes." through pris seemed a kind of ornery teenager because of her often detached and odd demeanor, considering the list of what she needed out of a proper guardian in actuality the girl didn't seem hard to please. she just wanted attention, and affection. was that too much to ask?

apparently so, since her past guardians dropped like flies. but elessar had asked her about the current one, by way of a key. after a moment of thought about it, pris puffed her short five foot self up like a proud peacock, giving a queenly nod of her head. "yes. misses prisses of ganesvoortshire would like a key to sir duck's roometh, hey nonny." through she'd been staying with him for months, pris didn't have a key to donald's room and he'd left it largely unlocked so she could come and go as she pleased. on those rare occasions when it was locked, she just went into her old room next door or outside to amuse herself until donald came home.

pris' gaze dropped down to the envelope, her finger flicking against the stack of bills inside before she started pulling them out one by one. "currishp. how many of these are you supposed to have? dunderhead gave me guilt money." at least she was hoping it was guilt money, and not just money to pay off the room. the girl had dreams of going to the mall and buying hair colors and paint colors and fabric colors and any colors she found in between.

[Elessar]

Elessar may have had a curious streak a mile long, but he was indeed glad that there wasn't any whimpering, moaning, or otherwise 'alive' sounds coming from the bags. On the other hand, all the clanking, cracking noises just made the elf that more curious about what was inside those bags. Dumpster diving, anyone?

If Pris was looking closely at Elessar's face then perhaps she would be able to notice the ragged white scar that ran from below his left eyebrow down the side of his face to end at his chin. It had faded to white from age and set against his naturally pale skin, making it hard to see unless one was looking close or specifically for it. When she spoke her last name Elessar was more than grateful because like the teachers on the first day of school, he hadn't a clue how to pronounce it. Now that he had heard her say it he committed it to memory, just in case. Though he has to ask, "Geese?" That was an animal Elessar had yet to learn about. The talking-box's educational program about animals was still in the D's. This week's topic was about dogs.

"He lets you paint the walls?" Elessar was not an artist, although he had proved he could tell a pretty good story, but the idea of painting the walls intrigued him. Stuck in solitude by his own choice, watching the cream colored walls of his own room closing in around him - was it any surprise the thought to paint them had crossed his mind once or twice before? "What do you paint on the walls?" While the thought may have occurred to the elf a time or two, it had never struck him just what he would paint if he could.

Wasn't attention and affection something, deep down, everyone wanted from someone else? In a world full of wants it was not such a big thing to ask for, but asking and getting were sadly polar opposites most of the time. She wanted the key and Elessar saw no reason she shouldn't have it. She was living there so it only made sense that she should have a way to get in. Both he and Armandeus had a key to their own room. Bending back of the book he checked for the room number again before turning to dig into the basket of keys. There was the clink of metal against metal as he rummaged around for it, but there, at the bottom he found it and turned with a triumphant grin to Pris. Pulling the key from the basket he stretched his hand out and offered it to her. "Here you are."

Elessar was a hermit, a mud man, and at the moment an impromptu desk watcher, but a money counter this man was not. When it came to money Elessar was just as lost as he was with the geese, though the geese had a slightly better chance at being understood, eventually. So while Pris asked him how many of the bills she needed and his gaze flickered between said bills and the ledger the elf was suddenly struck with an idea. Taking up the book, he flipped it around and sat it back down facing the girl. The grin of triumph was still in place, because he'd just figured out a solution - letting her figure it out for him, as he pointed to the amount listed on the page beside the room number. "That's how many." Hopefully Pris knew more about money than he did because well, guessing was the second option.

[Guest]

"geese," agreed pris. the girl looked up from her task of pulling out the money in the envelope one-by-one. so she could set her here there and everywhere eyes on the elf's face for a moment, adding with factual confidence, "they own wawa." a chain convenience stores back on earth that she used to ask for sandwiches from when her mother insisted she eat something other than potatoes, pris' mind had mixed up the reason behind why the store was named after the native american word for geese. the birds didn't actually own the place. how could they, when they had to migrate for winter?

elessar wasn't the only one who watched walls close in on him sometimes. because of the chemical imbalance she'd inherited from her father and his afflicted mother before him - and the fact that she wasn't medicated for it and was trained to deal with it through the application of compulsive behaviors instead - there were times when pris saw her walls closing in on her. they also melted, a lot. usually at night, if donald wasn't at home and she was trying to find sleep on her own. maybe her answer to his question about her paintings would provide him with a clue that this girl didn't see the world like most others did.

"i paint people's inside portraits," she explained as she fidgeted her weight from left foot to right, and her fingertips fiddled with the corners of the crisp money. her emerald green eyes were back to their here-there-everywhere gazing, resting in no spot longer than a few seconds. "what i see when i stare. duck has a field of corn and it swoops up into a mountain and over the corn it's a very blue sky but over the mountain it's a very stormy sky and the mountain is rumbling and sometimes you can see a fist coming out the top of it while there's a very big boom."

pris had abandoned the money to illustrate the contours of the landscape with hand gestures, and when she reached the 'boom' she exploded her fist upward as if it was coming out of the rocky mountain. what she saw when she stared at donald, besides the peaceful field of corn that was his nature, was also the mountainous stormy nature of the god he was a vessel for. "but sometimes boom is quiet. i guess he sleeps." pris really didn't know much about thor.

something else pris really didn't know much about were numbers. because her vision warped whenever she stared at things, both reading and 'rithmetic were difficult for her. especially the latter, because the numbers always fell off the pages or slipped down to join other problems on the page where they didn't belong. her grades in math were terrible, and her last year teacher Mister Math was very happy to hand pris off to a new teacher this year after having her in his class for two years of doing things like drawing benches on her page during what he'd called their benchmark exams.

it was why pris was looking at elessar with suspicion as he offered the key and spun the ledger around. shoulders and spine slinking into a lean away, as if the book he'd turned to face her was going to give her bites if she didn't feed it money. quickly she reached forward with one hand, snatching the key from his palm and stuffing it into the pocket of her leprechaun dress before the book changed its mind. "um." she was shifting her weight back and forth again, and this time her gaze was ping-ponging from side to side as if she was hoping for hero to save her from her numeric fate.

"um," she repeated that and then made a dissatisfied face when the repetition didn't help. down she plunged her other unpocketed hand, to catch five of the bills and push them forward towards the book for it to eat. pulling her hand back just as quick, she said with curt satisfaction. "there." not that it matched the amount he was pointing to on the page, she barely even looked at that. she'd given him what she wanted to pay. when she couldn't manage numbers very well what else was she supposed to do? besides, this meant she could take this extra money with her shopping for color.

[Elessar]

Score one for Elessar because he actually knew what Wawa was! It may have surprised some to know that the elf was semi-knowledgeable about things from earth despite never having been there himself. It was all thanks to that magical talking television box and the all earth channel that premiered during the 2:00 a.m. hour. Elessar found it morbidly fascinating in it's own way, but it left gaps big enough the inn could fit into. Take the geese that owned Wawa for example - the channel may have covered the convenience store but it didn't mention the geese at all. That's what the educational programs were for. Still the elf rather enjoyed it, although he'd have to say, if asked, that he really held no desire to see this earth for himself. It had been an adjustment coming here to Rhy'Din and all it's differences but earth seemed even different still and frankly Elessar just wasn't up for another round of world changing.

She painted people's insides and Elessar watched with rapt attention as she explained what Donald's insides looked like to her. The idea was fascinating to him and he couldn't help asking, "Are people's insides as different as their outsides?" It was something to be curious about as while the elf had met many different people of different races, he had yet to see anyone's insides. There was no word in Elvish for autopsy.

If Elessar had known that the book was going to eat her if she didn't feed it money he never would have flipped it around to her. It was too late to take it back however, and he watched her reaction to it with trepidation. See, this was prefect proof that Elessar needed some schooling himself, at least for when it came to numbers and money. If he'd had a clue of any kind then perhaps he wouldn't try setting a man eating book out for the customers.

At any rate guessing on the actual amount for the room had been Elessar's second choice of action so when Pris fed the book those five bills the elf had a very hard time not breaking into crowing laughter of triumph. For him it worked out - he had needed money and she had given him some. Whether or not it was the right amount , , well Elessar wasn't above leaving that for someone else to figure out. De'Ryanna might come kill him later for it, but it wasn't his fault really, or was it? Shrugging outwardly to his unasked inner question, Elessar reached back across the desk to grab up the ledger and money before flipping both around to face him again. The money was taken first and slipped into the cash box before the elf lifted his head to Pris again with a hint of a smile. "I'll mark paid on it and you're all set." And as soon as he found a pen he would do just that. Bending back over the desk the elf began rummaging around to find one.

[Guest]

the eccentric girl didn't seem at all put-out by elessar's question. "insides don't change as much as outsides. because people can make their outsides lie. their insides can't lie. but people make their outsides lie about their insides all the time. and most other people don't know it. because most other people can't see insides." unlike her, that was what was implied.

while pris answered her mudman, she was sliding the leftover crisp bills back in the envelope. one by one. part of why she did it with such care was because she really didn't know how much was in there. in fact, for all pris knew her dunderhead-dead-to-her brother had given her enough to pay for a room here for a month, six months, or even a year. terrible at numbers as she was, she relied on the honesty that was inherent in people giving her change when she bought things. the girl spent money until she ran out.

this time, the always connecting and reconnecting dots of her mind were telling her that maybe she should ask her most precious donald how much was in the envelope. just in case.

for now, what pris did know was that once she pushed the bills back in the envelope there were enough in there to make it a little fat. to her that was a lot of money, even if every bill was just a u.s. dollar. she noted this fact with a pleased, "purr," as she closed the envelopes flap, tucking it away into the biggest pocket of her deep green leprechaun dress - a pocket so big that really it looked more like a pouch. the envelope would be safe there until she got back to her room.

while elessar was rummaging back behind the counter, the fidgety pris was ping-ponging her gaze over the three large trash bags at her feet. the last of her brother's things combined with the things she possessed which would remind her of him, after these things were thrown away pris would be officially moved out of where she and dommy had once called home. while the rest of the bags had been taken to the curb and kicked, pris had kicked these bags while she was here at the counter and…well, she wouldn't be a teenager if she wasn't both finicky and lazy.

"ahem," she said for her mudman's benefit, so he would know she sought his attention still. "currishp. i don't want these anymore." in case he couldn't see the trash bags she was referring to from his vantage point, she would give one of them a boot, resulting in some shifts and clanks inside of it.

[Elessar]

Elessar was a tenacious man so it was on the tip of his tongue to ask just what his own insides looked like but at the last moment he snapped his jaw shut, deciding against it. Some things were better left to the imagination, he decided, especially when you weren't sure what they would contain. Elessar would have bet a sizeable chunk of money, had he had any, that there wasn't a peaceful cornfield living inside of him. A gaping black pit full of heavy chains perhaps, but not a cornfield. Then again Elessar couldn't see his own insides so who knew what lurked inside? Did he mention he had quite the active imagination to go along with that insatiable curiosity?

Pris' tucking away of the remained of the money went largely unnoticed by Elessar due to the fact the elf was too busy staring at the long black thing that had been laying on the desk that inveterately turned out to be the pen he was searching for. What an odd thing . . it was round, heavy, and didn't have a feather anywhere in sight. If the cap hadn't came off in his rummaging it would have been one of the last things Elessar pegged as a writing instrument. Fighting the sudden urge to roll his eyes, in amusement or annoyance, he mentally added this pen to his list of things mortals made needlessly complicated. After four years it was getting to be quite a list.

At the 'ahem' Elessar looked up from writing paid in the book and glanced over the counter at Pris. From where he was standing he didn't have a direct view of the bags, but since he'd followed her dragging them down the stairs he knew what she was talking about. The booting helped too, although the clanking that came from the bag this time made Elessar stop trying to look over the desk at the bags and give Pris a look with a slightly raised eyebrow. "What is inside them?"

Many things could be stuffed into a trash bag and although they had clanked and cracked when she drug them down the stairs and given them the last kick that didn't tell Elessar anything beyond the fact whatever it was wasn't alive. That didn't mean it wasn't already dead. Among other things, body parts could be forced to fit rather nicely in a trash bag as Elessar could attest to. It was an interesting situation and Elessar couldn't help that he was giving Fanyare another look because of it. To him she didn't look like one capable of stuffing dead body parts into a trash bag, but then again that could probably be said of him and he had actually done it before. Wasn't that a quote somewhere? If you think they have the capacitity to get you they probably can? Something like that. Either way he couldn't wait to hear her answer.

[Guest]

among other things, the eccentric girl was an unusually gifted mimic. the talent peaked its way out at the most useful of times, but also at the most unexpected of times. for the teenager, this moment was somewhere in between, because for all she knew the contents of the bags could shape her mudman's viewpoint on whether or not he felt it reasonable to take them to the curb. mimicry helped her dance around this question until she could make a better decision, as she adjusted the square of her shoulders and the position of her neck to mirror the elf's posture, raising her eyebrow in a shape that echoed his and even her voice was commendably similar as she asked him back, "what is inside you?"

slight emphasis on the you. which was ironic (or fitting), since they'd been talking about her insides-portraits.

big green eyes stared right at him for the next few seconds that tick-tocked by, before she dropped her eyes to the trashbags at her side. her compulsive mind was making a long shopping list for her of the things it was sure were in these bags, like her half-brother's video game box and all its games, but pris was currently arguing with her own thoughts about whether or not it was a good idea to spill as much specificity as that. when she made her decision, the girl's posture straightened with triumph and she lifted her chin regally as she turned her attention back to the elf ready with her reply.

"dunderhead's things." v for pris victory. it was true, the bags were all filled with dommy's belongings. even the things in the bag that where hers that he'd given her, before he'd given them to her those technically were his things too.

[Elessar]

Pris the mimic meet Elessar the master of evasion. Elessar had never come across a mimic before so as Pris mirrored his stance the elf met it all with the raising of the other eyebrow and the twitch of a smile. Imitation is supposed to be the sincerest form of flattery. The elf found it all curiously amusing and pitched forward to where he was leaning on the desk out of the irresistible urge to see if she would do the same.

As for the question of what was inside him, well Elessar wouldn't be the master of evasion if he couldn't turn a question back around at the person it had came from which is just what he did. "What do you see inside of me?" She had said she could see people's inside portraits so wouldn't she be able to see what was inside of him?

If she actually could see his insides then she would be able to see that instead of a cornfield a seashore lived inside of this elf. It was a shore unlike any found in Rhy'Din; great trees flanked the foreground, taller than the inn itself. From there they stretched and thinned out until they disappeared altogether and gave way to sparkling black sand. Beyond that was the sea itself, full of turbulent waves of blue-green water.

Clear bluish gray eyes locked with the big green eyes staring at them and for those few seconds he stared right back. In those seconds his mind was wandering, wondering how she felt about being stared at. To Elessar it wasn't the most pleasant thing in the world, but it was hardly the worst, although he had been told that the direct stare of an elf had the tendency to make some mortals uncomfortable. When she dropped her eyes away he did so as well, looking back down at the pen in his hands as if it'd just become the most fascinating thing in the world.

Ah-ha! Victory was for Elessar as well because she'd told him what was in the bags! The elf's head snapped up and the pen was forgotten again as he looked at her. Now that he knew what was inside of them would he help her get rid of them? Of course. What kind of good mud man would he be if he didn't help the one person who'd made him into a mud man in the first place? Leaning over the desk a bit further he glanced from what he could see of the trash bags then back to Pris again. "What would you like done with them?"

[Guest]

while pris was watching him with her big green eyes, the mimicry continued…mostly. while she lifted her eyebrow to mirror-match his and also copy-catted the lean, there was no twitch at all in the curvature of her lips. with the day she was having, pris' lips didn't at all feel like smiling, not even a twitch's worth and not even in the name of mimicking her mudman.

but it was true, in the name of mirroring him if he was going to stare at her she would have to stare at him right back. this stilled pris' normally ping-ponging gaze long enough that her vision could and would warp, tripping the chemical imbalance in her brain to 'misinterpret' what her eyes saw, allowing her to see the deeper truth of things. her stare was still, interrupted by a blink much later than the gaze of most people, and the rest of her was just as still. when pris put her mind to it, she made a very good statue, one that didn't at all think twice when it came to staring. and one that was accustomed to being stared at, as the eccentric girl caught stares from strangers all the time. all kinds of strangers, all kinds of stares.

"lots of your sand is missing. the waves took it. i bet they have your toe prints too which means they'll find you in the shower." the fact that pris believed the ocean had archives of people's toe prints that they could use to find a person in any body of water - including the aforementioned shower - was epiphany's fault. hopefully elessar didn't find this verdict from pris alarming. pris' brain-doctor found out firsthand that no amount of yelling and even flipping unsuspecting chairs would get the girl to change her story when it came to his insides. she saw what she saw and what she saw she painted, or drew.

elessar's last question brought a heaved huff and puff from the teenager. breaking her mimicry completely, pris folded her arms across her chest and looked generally put-out. "they're dunderhead's things," came her answer. spoken in that challengingly factual tone that only a teenager could truly perfect. "my things are done with they're already in duck's room." in large all over the floor piles. "these are dunderhead's things and i already kicked the rest to the curb." in other words, the girl wanted to have her hands washed of the three bags at her feet. inside of them were dommy's things, and she wanted no say in the 'done with' part of the process because she herself was done with.

done with dommy.

[Elessar]

Perhaps she didn't find him as amusing as he did her, was the thought going through Elessar's mind as he watched Pris move to copy him save for the smile. It made sense in a way though, she had started the mimicking and he had only moved to see if she would continue to do the same so the fact that she did not smile when he had seemed reasonable to him.

Staring back at her staring at him Elessar would agree that Pris could probably make an excellent statue as still as she held herself. It was a feat Elessar could say he'd never seen another mortal do before and in the same breath it made him think about the mud statues in the sculpture garden. He really needed to get out there and visit them, he hadn't done so since he'd run away again with his mud hat.

Luckily for Pris the elf didn't seem too alarmed about the waves having his toe prints if only for the fact that he was trying to sort out just how exactly sand was going to get into his shower in the first place. He hadn't been around sand since that one time with Epiphany but that was of little matter now. Although you could bet during his next shower he would be looking to see if there was any sand in there with him!

Poor Elessar didn't have much experience when it came to dealing with teenagers, especially since he hadn't been around one since, well, since he was one and that had been a lot of years ago. One thing he was rapidly learning was mortal teenagers were rather scary creatures. The huffing and puffing Pris was taken in with a nervous look and Elessar the chicken, as he shall now be named, straightened out of his lean across the desk just in case running seemed to be the safer option.

Now Elessar wasn't the smartest man in Rhy'Din despite some people's misconceptions that since he was an elf he should be among the wisest creatures on the planet, but he did get the hint when it was given to him and Pris' came across clear as a bell. The three bags sitting there on the floor were destined to be kicked to the curb like the ones before them and Elessar got to be the moving man. Stepping around the corner of the desk he moved towards the bags to gather them up, but not before lifting his head and giving Pris another look and quirky grin. "Then I shall kick them to the curb for you!" If she had no objections then that was just what he was going to do.

[Guest]

the conundrum with pris was that while she meant almost everything she said and took almost everything that was said by others quite literally, what was literal for her was usually very far off from what was literal for everyone else. so while what she saw inside elessar could almost be likened to waves eating away at a sand dune or even stealing droplets of sand from an hour glass before they could finish their fall, and while she was convinced that those waves - since they were already stealers - had stolen his toe prints, the likelihood that actual sand would be in his shower would be precious little. if there ever was and he told her so, in fact, it'd probably put pris in quite a shrieking state. because to her, it would mean that his insides were leaking out.

pris, even in an un-shrieking state, could absolutely be a scary teenage creature unless one learned how to master her behavior, demands, needs, episodes and mood swings, which usually took time. she was a girl that not only needed to be understood in her unconventional way, but she also needed to be doted on, or at the very least placated, and some people just never got that through their thick heads. but the up side was that individuals who had compulsive behaviors like she did had a lot of patterns, and those patterns could be cracked like code. it was something that her most precious doctor duck was now very good at. and dunderhead had been good at it too, before he stopped trying and sent her a hampton virginia stamped white flag in the mail to tell her he'd tossed in the towel.

and nervous looks only encouraged her. because the dots connected by lines in her mind knew that looks like that meant that there was a very good chance she was about to get what she wanted. it didn't seem to matter to pris that the payoff was likely because she was making the person in question uncomfortable or even afraid. want was want, and when she wanted, she wanted. so when elessar gave her the nervous look, pris slipped her arms into a criss-cross over her chest and she tap-tap-tapped her one foot on the floor impatiently until he came out from behind the desk and started gathering bags.

when he told her of his plan, she seemed satisfied. it was the correct plan. but that didn't mean she didn't have more demands. in fact she did. "they need at least three kicks, hey nonny. each of them. i don't want any of them crawling back, i don't take apologies from trash." was she talking about the things in the bags just then, or her half-brother? considering pris, she probably meant both.

[Elessar]

If nervous looks only encouraged her then Pris had just hit veritable pay dirt with Elessar. If a little huffing and puffing could make him twitchy one could only imagine what reaction would come from Pris in a shrieking state. Although the odds of such being caused by him telling her he found sand in his shower was as slim as actually finding it.

Who knew the phrase about kicking things to the curb involved actual kicking? Until Pris said something, Elessar hadn't known. It was a good thing to know because by that time he had already started heading towards the door with the bags but when he reached the door he paused to open it and to spare Pris a glance to show he'd heard what she'd said about the kicking. "Three kicks each, got it."

For the rest of the trek to the curb the bag carrying Elf was silent, although if looked at closely perhaps it would be noticed the way he was giving those bags a cursory look. Pris had more or less told him what was in them, but then wanted them kicked so they wouldn't go crawling back, all of which left Elessar wondering just what was really inside them after all. Severed body parts couldn't go crawling around anywhere, could they? Nevertheless, even if there wasn't any bodily remains in those bags Elessar wasn't taking any chances so when he reached the curb the bags were released and each given three swift kicks to them. Deeming it a mission complete he then turned and began heading back inside.

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