Flashback [Solo]Fool Me Once...

[Matthaus]

4th of Fall, 507AV He didn't know how he had gotten away with it and he didn't care. He just needed to keep moving. To run. The steps behhind him echoed, heavy and determined. They were calm. They knew, knew they would catch him. In their minds he was already a caught. Splash. Rivelt ran down his back, face and chest and he blinked stinging water out of his eyes. He didn't even want to know what was just dumped on him, he didn't even spar the apologizing voice above a glance. Rather, the boy flattened against the wall and continue his hurried scarmbling, his legs twisitng under him, his eyes darting nervously. But mostly his heart. His heart was going to beat itself against his ribs until it was able to tear free, he was sure of it. Trying to suck in as much air as possible he forced himself to walk. To keep the bag clutched to his chest and walk. Now walk faster. Good, faster. He needed to go faster than the footsteps. Jogging. He was jogging now, every inhale burning his throat and every step sending them closer and the bang clinking. A walk target. He couldn't escape with all this. But he had too. In front of him he could see the moon's reflection of the water and behind him the footsteps pounding in tune with his pulse. He pushed harder, forced his legs to do more than jog. A slow run, just until he reached the docks. That was as far as he had to get. Clink. Clink. Clink. He stumbled, more coins spilled but he didn't bother to stop. It was all the coins fault anways. All the coins fault and his stomachs. And his parents. And Ravoks'.

[Matthaus]

He had known. He wasn’t an idiot. But it was still painful. He felt his body curl into itself and something akin to a crying well up somewhere in his throat that made it painful to swallow. They had left the moment he had gotten off the ship. The footsteps were close now, practically behind him. It was over. The game of tag was finished. His one chance was sailing off somewhere else. Sailing off somewhere without him. And no matter how hard he tried not to he could feel the tremble in his lip and new the warmth on his face was not ocean spray from the docks. Now what was he supposed to do? He was still hungry and about to be caught. Its probably why they let him run, they had known too and that made him angry. How could they have known? It wasn’t supposed to happen like this! So when the hand touched his shoulder he threw the bag into the face of his soon to be ‘guardians’. Guardians. Ha! He was going to be a slave just like those weird people-animal things except he wouldn’t have a literal collar. “Well, that ain’t a very nice thing to do now.” “Petch off.” In the dark he still couldn’t see the man properly and he watched solemnly as the other two came up behind him. In this light there was only a flash of green and faint tinting of red where the bag of coins had slapped him. “Good vocabulary. He could be a runner. He’s got decent feet.” But there was sarcasm and it was obvious the men hadn’t actually been running, just stomping. It sent a flush across the boys cheeks and he took a step back. “Just get him and lets’ go.” “I tried to! And did ya see what he did?” The man shook the bag for emphasis and then turned to the boy, he didn’t say anything, just held out his hand. But the boy shook his head, he wouldn’t work for anyone, there was nothing wrong with him! “Ain’t no one gonna hurt you, kid.” A second of childish trust because they had never attacked him. Never actually stopped him and they didn’t look bad, just tired and bored. And green eyes kept smiling and hadn’t even scolded him for smacking him with gold. He heard himself sniffle quietly but didn’t rub his face, it was bad enough he was crying in front of them. Rather he reached out his hand in resignation and seen a look of triumph from the man in front of him and a solid pain in the back the back of his head. Such a liar.

[Matthaus]

When he woke up he was in the same room he had last seen his fami—them in. Sitting up he felt his head pulse and watched the room twirl into a pretty spectrum of colors that made him grimace and fall back on the floor. Which was also a bad idea because the moment his head tapped the ground he rolled onto his side and emptied his stomach of whatever was left in it. “I ain’t cleaning that.” Blinking to clear his vision the boy followed the shoes, legs and torso until his eyes reached a face grinning down at him. “Yer awake finally. Thought maybe I got ya too hard.” “Pet—“ “Petch off. Is that all ya know? They said ya didn’t speak yer language but maybe they lied. Do yer eyes change color too?” The face loomed closer as the man squatted, obviously inspecting him. Inspecting him like he was some sort of insect. He hated that but there was nothing to hide behind and instead he settled for gazing blearily up at the man. Finger poked at his cheek while the other offered a mushy looking fruit that he snatched up hungrily but hesitated to bite. What if it was poisoned? Would they buy him just to off him? He began to set the food down but a small ‘tsk’ stopped him. “Eat it, kid. Or ya gonna try and tell me ya want a cracker?" Stubbornly the boy said nothing, only slowly biting into the fruit and hoping it didn’t come back up. Would he get clothes and things before they put him to work? Because judging by the smell whatever was dumped on him last night was not water. Head beginning to dull into a background ache he looked around, the room was the same but different. Different because he was sure the other room he had been in had a view of the sea while this one had the view of a wall. “Yer gonna be easier to hide with a cloak, yer eyes don’t change so I ain’t gonna worry ‘bout the color. But we gotta get ya some new clothes and bath.” He blinked curiously, “What?” “So ya can talk!” the idiotic grin was still in place and cold cloth attacked his face, while quick fingers manhandled his shirt and pants off. “Finish it up and then put this on. We gotta leave here quick.”