Flashback Never Peach (Koruma)

Two young boys meet in the chaos of Sunberth

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A lawless town of anarchists, built on the ruins of an ancient mining city. [Lore]

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Never Peach (Koruma)

Postby Timothy Mered on December 10th, 2014, 6:05 pm

8th of Spring, 513AV.

Timothy hurried out of the market, clutching a small basket tightly to his chest. In Spring, people weren't as hungry and he could easily dodge the bony hands of those who'd have his bread and vegetables for free. Even though Timothy knew where the shady types were holding up, it never hurt to be on your guard and move quickly, not in the least to prove to mother that he could handle himself just fine.

She'd probably berate him for going out barefooted, but Timothy thought it much wiser to keep his shoes safely at home until he actually needed them. After all, anything that wasn't glued to your skin could be taken from you, particularly in Sunset quarter. Besides, it's not Winter anymore, Timothy thought to himself as he entered the slums.

The rickety wooden houses -piled upon the collapsed foundations of even smaller, dirtier buildings- didn't look like a slum to him. He lived in one of the creaky, drafty old places after all, and at least he wasn't as low as an orphan. He hated having to walk past the ashen building, it made him feel sad and he couldn't stand to meet any hungry eyes or they'd think him prey and steal all his food. Little though they had, Timothy would much rather live in the mud and stink in freedom than to be caged in that orphanage and he pitied those who were without father or mother.

Still, he slowed down as he approached the dull building. Living just across from the institution didn’t really help make him think less of the boys and girls who were trapped in there. Like any other Sunberthian with a soft spot, Timothy knew the orphans were taken good care of, as good as a few mizas could afford at least, but he had also heard that they only ate watered down cabbage soup. Perhaps that was why most of the children looked so ghostly pale and sickly thin. They could probably slither between the spokes in the fencing, or jump over it, and Timothy often wondered why they didn’t. Maybe they were afraid, just like all other passers-by –some of whom where lice-infested drunks who muttered curses under their breaths- moved in a slight arch around the orphanage’s entrance, as if to avoid the stink of rotten youths that lived there. Any other day, Tim would’ve done the same, but the sun hit his eyes, causing him to cast his gaze to the other side where his eyes found two grey orbs staring at him. They weren’t the eyes of a vulture but belonged to a boy with amber hair and round cheeks, standing slightly taller.

Timothy frowned, clutching the basket even tighter to his chest. Some slouching drunk bumped into him, sending him stumbling forward, towards the mysterious youth behind the fence. “Little P-p-petcher,” the man struggled to say before continuing his limping strut. Aside from a scowl, Timothy paid the man no heed.

“What you’re looking at me for?” he demanded from the boy behind the fence. A good five feet of no man’s land separated them and should the strange boy make any sudden moves, Timothy would have plenty of time to run away. As he gave the boy another look-over, he noticed a long scar underneath the dirty hair. His shoulders relaxed a bit. “Are you alright?” Maybe he’s just hungry…
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Never Peach (Koruma)

Postby Koruma on December 10th, 2014, 6:34 pm

His Masters were getting more and more frustrated with him by the day. The loose group of these and cut throats that had take Koruma in couldn't figure out why their "prodigy" had failed. Although Koruma lived at the orphanage, he spent a lot of time trying to train and learn from the little gang. They were his source of companionship and the closet thing he had to a family. Yet, they were growing tired of him. He still couldn't wield a blade with any decency and the red scar above his forehead was proof of his failure. Although weeks had passed since he had sustained the injury thanks to his own carelessness, his Master's still hadn't forgiven him for the failure.

The sun was high in the sky and Koruma had yet to set out for his training lesson. It was his birthday and the last thing he wanted was for the gang to make him feel miserable. Ashen eyes fell to the piece of wood in his lap as the familiar sound of children's shouts echoed in the background. Jillene's voice rose above theirs, snapping at the children to quiet down and behave. Koruma heaved a sigh as he leaned one thin shoulder against the gate. In his left had was his dagger. Wiry fingers played mindlessly with the hilt and balance while his right hand toyed with the piece of wood. Parts of it had been shaped by the dagger, but it really looked more like a dysfunctional blob than anything else. Odd edges and strange curves gave the hunk of wood an unrecognizable shape. He had been trying for a bird.

Koruma's eyes wandered over the street that stretched out before the orphanage gate. A few passed him by with very obvious attempts to look away. Koruma's gaze followed each of the with quiet observation. After a bell, Koruma spotted a younger boy walking down the street. His scrawny arms clung desperately to a basket of food as his green eyes gazed suspiciously at anyone he passed. Their eyes met and Koruma couldn't help but think that he looked like all of the orphans. The boy boasted twigs for limbs and his sunken eyes and hallowed cheek bones were the same as the rest.

Koruma only blinked when a drunk stumbled into the other boy and mumbled profanities at the kid. Ashen eyes followed the older man for a brief moment before his gaze flicked silently back to the kid. Acting as if Koruma's stares had offended him, the kid accosted Koruma and demanded an answer. Koruma stood silently for a chime as he tapped the flat of the dagger against his leg. Finally, without answering, he turned his head away from the boy and decidedly watched the other side of the street. It was the next statement that really got Koruma's attention. His head snapped back to the kid and he blinked. "Alright? Um... maybe... Why?"
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Never Peach (Koruma)

Postby Timothy Mered on December 10th, 2014, 7:53 pm

Timothy shrugged. "Because..." he sucked in a deep breath, pointed his index finger at his forehead and traced a line, "your scar." He took a small step forward, noticing the odd bits of wood in the boy's lap, and the dagger too. Instinct told him to back away from anyone with a knive, but by the looks of it the boy was just carving figures and Timothy found it hard to believe that such sullen eyes could mean anyone harm. He doesn't seem to be very good with a knive, Tim thought as he eyed the misshapen lump of wood in the boy's lap, but he decided not to say anything of it.

Now that he was closer to the slumped sack of potatoes, Tim could tell he was certainly older, though not by too much if the boy's round cheeks and big eyes were anything to go by. Only...he looked so very serious. Why isn't he playing with the other children? But then Timothy reminded himself that he didn't really have friends to speak of either. A mild curiosity swelled in his chest, filling him up with warmth. There was something familiar about the bag of bones though he didn't recall having seen the slightly taller lad before. The few boys he had met were bastard sons of some blacksmith or stonemason, hell-bent on knocking all his teeth out before he'd even grown a full set. Then there had been a boy called Tristan , half a dozen summers older than him, who he'd hanged around with for a couple of seasons. Only Tristan had robbed the wrong sort and had been stabbed to death not two alleys from his house. It’s better not to have any friends, then you can’t lose them, Timothy sighed inwardly. Besides, he wasn’t like most of the kids here. Even the orphans, those lowly little mice, seemed love scrapping with each other more than he did. Some, he knew, were even involved with adults that did bad stuff. He’d received such offers as well, from his mother’s clients mostly. He’d been promised mountains of gold and fame and glory, but he knew that the blacksmith’s kid had lost a hand and the stonemason’s son missed a few teeth, all so they could call themselves part of some silly gang.

Awakening from his contemplations, gentle green eyes settled back onto the whittler. “You hungry?” he asked, though he didn’t wait for an answer as he stepped forward, put the basket down and tore a slice from the bread therein. “Here,” he extended his hand. “It’s a bit squashed, but it’s fresh.” No small amount of genuine concern was audible in his voice. In truth, this wasn't all that different from that pidgeon he'd saved and fed once...

If Koruma were to dig into the food like a wild animal, as Timothy expected him to, two green eyes would observe the other as if he were some rare, exotic bird. Cocking his head, Timothy frowned at the thin scars that criss-crossed the other boy's skin. "Do they hit you in there?" he jutted his chin at the orphanage, disbelief seeped through his voice. "Mother always said the matron was nice to the orphans...Are you..." he swallowed, "are you one of them?" his eyes flitted towards the other orphans playing in the courtyard. He immediately regretted having asked it. Of course he was one of them. Why else would the grey-eyed boy sit on the wrong side of the fence? Unwilling to offend the other boy Timothy quickly added, “I only live with my mother, so I know a bit what it’s like and-“ he cut off his sentence there, a grin tugging at his lips. “Sorry, I forgot…I am Timothy,” he extended his hand again. “Timothy Mered. What’s your name?”
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Never Peach (Koruma)

Postby Koruma on December 24th, 2014, 5:27 pm

Koruma's hand shot up, almost dropping the carving, and tenderly touched the scar the other boy pointed to. Cheeks growing hot, Koruma roughly brushed his bangs over the stop and let his head dip in a poor attempt to hide the line. "It's nothing." Despite the futility of it all, Koruma's hand still continued to pat down his hair. His cheeks grew hotter until he was sure even his ears were bright red.

Ashen eyes glanced up and his brow furrowed as the boy's eyes inspected him thoroughly. His lips turned down into a small frown and he shifted uncomfortably under the scrutiny. Koruma's hand dropped back into his lap and he grabbed hold of the precariously placed wood. His thumb rubbed the grain and he could feel the smooth wood press against his skin. Koruma silently watched the other child, his quiet eyes gauging the boy's reactions. His gaze seemed to drift off and the silence stretched between them. Biting his lip, he wondered if he should simply go back to carving; or maybe just go inside. Although, going back would lead him into a world of trouble with the other kids. Koruma spent as little time as he could possibly manage around the other orphans. All of those who were bigger than him, including the girls, picked on him and took advantage of his weak nature. Heck, even some of the younger kids picked on him. Not that Koruma could blame them. Everyone had it tough in Sunberth and it was a fight for survival. They lived on strength and willpower. Koruma lived on luck.

The sudden question snapped Koruma out of his thoughts and he glanced incredulously at the younger kid. Still, he wasn't going to turn down free food. "Yeah." Even as the word tumbled from his mouth, the other boy had already stepped forward and was rifling through the bag. A slice of bread brought a smile to Koruma's face and let go of the carving. It tumbled onto the dirt with a thunk, forgotten. Koruma reached out with and he gratefully added, "Thanks." He brought the bread greedily to his lips, but paused mid bite. Clearing his throat, Koruma let the bread simply touch his lips as he bowed his head and offered a silent, and very quick, prayer. The first bite was like magic as the fresh bread practically melted into his mouth. Warmth still clung to the slice and his smile only grew. Half of it was gone before he could blink, but Koruma forced himself to slow down and enjoy every bite.

The other boy spoke again, asking a question that made Koruma spit and laugh. "Jillene and Noven? No way." Koruma took another grateful bite as he eyes the younger child with amusement. Each new question brought a giggle to Koruma's lips. "Yeah, I'm an orphan." His answer was made in a matter-of-fact tone before he shrugged and continued. "Always have been. But no, we don't get hit. I can't really say Jillene is nice but... she doesn't hit us."

The kid was revealing more of himself than he probably intended to, but it was somehow refreshing. Koruma relaxed and a small smile graced his lips as the conversation turned to introductions. "I'm Koruma." He paused as a thought popped into his head. The words simply tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop himself. "But no, I don't think you know what it is like. I-I don't mean to be rude or anything but... I couldn't imagine loosing a parent. I've never known one so, I don't really feel their absence. But you? I think it's harder for you." Koruma turned bright red and scratched at the scar on his forehead. "Sorry, that was rude. I'm not trying to pity you or belittle the others here... just... I didn't really think. Sorry."
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