What a wretched day. Nothing to do at all. One foot against the wall as she leaned against it, balancing all her weight on the other outstretched leg, expressed the utter boredom and frustration of a rather boring and docile day. Wavy brown hair was kept down, brilliant red streaks randomly dispersed amongst the brown. Jade eyes looked to the ground for a moment as she moved away from leaning against the wall and started kicking at a squished cigarette bud on the sidewalk.

Sabia was definitely bored with her brother away. He had something else to do which obviously didn’t include her and it frustrated the hell out of her. What’s a girl to do with no playthings?

Wearing a white frilled mini skirt and a black tank top with a smiley face and a halo above the face on the front of it was definitely a misleading look for the girl. Everything pointed out that she was a good girl which was definitely far from the truth. Black flip flops were still kicking at squished buds or rocks that were on the ground. Every now and then her gaze would travel around the street hoping that something would come by to entertain her.

Ivan is defiantly something entertaining. He’s walking down the sidewalk, on his way home from classes at the college. Slung over one shoulder, the strap coming across his very flat and very thin chest, and laying at his side, is a saddlebag, brown leather, stuffed to the brim with books, papers sticking messily out in every direction, and the front covered in pins with smart-ass remarks on them. Slung across the other shoulder, crossing his chest in the other direction is a guitar strap. Laying flat across his back is a soft case, this one black leather, with a classic four-string bass guitar inside. A wire ran up from his pocket to connect to a head set on his ears.

He was dressed in a pair of pants, his favorite pair I think. They settled on his hips, low enough to show the top of his boxers if his shirt didn’t cover that. The right leg had a long zipper from below the leg all the way up to mid-thigh, the left leg had two zippers, diagonal across his thigh. Both legs had Cargo pockets and long white straps cross in the back. He wore three belts. On was a handcuff belt, all metal, holding his pants up. Another hung just below that, a pyramid belt, two rows of pyramids, and below that the belt of false bullets hung diagonal across his hip. His feet were completely covered by the pants. His shirt was a white, button down that fit almost snuggly, with a sharp collar and the tip three buttons undone. The sleeves rode three quarters of the way down his arms. Under it was a black fishnet shirt, the sleeves reaching the wrists, the neck showing where the white shirt was unbuttoned. Around on wrist was a black arm warmer and on the other was a bunch of gel bracelets, a pair of handcuffs, and a beaded something that resembled a girls hair scrunchy.

His hair was pink. Light pink. The roots blond. It reached shoulder length and was tied back, many strands hanging in his face. A hansom, young face. Behind a pair of thin glasses are green eyes, so light they’re close to blue. He smiled at her when he neared, an atrocious flirt he was. He leaned, uninvited, next to the spot she’d been leaning, in the same position only he was leaning his shoulders carefully, trying to not hurt his guitar. He put a foot up and leaned onto one as she hand, stuffed his hands in his pocket and watched her kick the butt of a cigarette.


(I rambled a lot on that one. Sorry)

Well this was an unexpected yet very interesting development in her obviously boring day. At least it wasn’t boring anymore as she watched the boy with light pink hair lean against the wall. No longer was she kicking the cigarette as her eyes were fixated on him and looking him the same way a person looks over a new car before they buy it. Of course she wasn’t picky with finding possible playthings. Especially not today as the boy was the only person around now besides her.

”You look like pack mule.” Commenting on the several items he was carrying from his stuffed book bag to his guitar. Skirt swayed back and forth on her hips as she walked a little closer to him and then stopped, sandals clapping up and down against the side walk. A hand raised and fingers ran through her hair teasingly and index finger curled a strand of brown hair around it.

”Live around here?” Of course it was just idle chit chat for now until she got bored and wanted to play some.

Bored? With Ivan around? It's hard to do. And with this particular girls idea of 'playing' it's probably a good thing for him that he isn't very boring.

He smiled when she moved closer, watched, not her hips moving, but the sway of her skirt. Of all things that a boy would watch, Ivan watches the motion of her clothing, not her body. He's actually, in a sense, studying it's motion, and when his eyes come back to her face, he's still thinking about the skirt. His eyes are too old for him, some initiates think he's not human (which he is, very much human) and that he is much older then he looks (which he is not, in fact he could be fourteen instead of sixteen except that he's tall). Really, the look in his eye just means he's thinking about three or four things at once without being distracted by them from what is at hand.

And what is at hand is her. He smiled warmly, straight white teeth (thank Aunt Sarah that she ignored Ivan's youthful protest to braces). "I feel like a pack mule." He nodded to answer her, his glasses slipping down his nose, more strands hanging around his face. "Yes, not very far from here. Do you?" His voice is almost past the changing point, almost a smooth bariton.

”Yeah. Nothing special, but it’s a roof over your head.” She shrugged as she spoke about the crappy run down apartment she and her brother lived in. Sabia really needed to get more hours for a job even though she hated actually having to act nice around people in order to get money.

More swaying of the skirt as she walked over and leaned against the wall once more a few feet away from him.

”I take it you’re a nerd considering all the books.” Schooling never did suit her liking. The only thing that was fun was telling other kids things to do to get in trouble and then laugh as they got sent to the principle’s office.

He watched her skirt again, then his eyes dropped to watch her sandals. He himself never wore sandals. It was either boots or bare feet. No in between. She leaned on the wall again and he reached up to push the headphones off of his head and drop them around his neck. You'd be suprised. He's not listening to the 'smash your head into a wall and lick up the blood music.' Actually, what comes loudly from the headset is typical to the eighties, maybe even the seventies. A guitar, bass, and a saxiphone.

"A really big neard," he added to her comment, leaning forward a little with the words. "A hot nerd?" He asked. Sure, he knows he's cute, and he's a major flirt. His tone is joking and serious in the same moment. He's not even sure how he manages that.

”Don’t flatter your self.” She has a half smile as she looks away from him and down the sidewalk acting as if he was the most boring thing on the planet. Yeah, he could be hot, but that doesn’t mean she’s going to say it out loud. That would go against her image of hating everyone and thinking that all people were her toys. She can’t go around saying her toys are hot now can she?

”Why do you keep staring at my skirt?” She said finally pulling her attention back to him. It hadn’t gone unnoticed how his eyes seem to divert to her skirt as she started walking. Hearing also made a curious look come across her face as she heard the music he was listening to. Definitely not what she was expecting. He was keeping her entertained for now so far.

"Aw. That's disappointing," he replied, pouting his lip outward just slightly when she told him not to be flattered. His almost blue eyes dropped involentarily to her skirt when she mentioned it, and then came back up to return to her face. And he smiled again. "I don't know," he shrugged one shoulder with little effort, though it was the shoulder which the weight of the book-stuffed bag hung from. "Studying it. The way it moves. Can't help it. I've always done it."

He caught the curiouse expression on her face and wondered if she liked or disliked the music, or was simply confused by it in combonation with his dress. "Like it? They're called Stray Cats." He pat the edge of his guitar case. "I can play this song." Hand in his pocket he turned up the volume a little more.

...nging the blues while the lady cats cry, wow stray cat your a real cool guy...

He turned it down again.

”That’s kind of weird that you have an obsession for skirts don’t you think?” Eyebrow raised and then lowered as he turned up his music. She wasn’t sure what to think of it. This play toy was surprisingly keeping her from getting too bored at the moment. It had to be the first one in a long time as usually she was messing with them by this point. That and the fact that her brother wasn’t around could have something to do with it. He always made the torturing more entertaining with his vines. Two small pockets on the back of her skirt actually held her switchblade and lighter making a slight bulge above her butt on either side where they were located.

”Good for you.” She responded to him saying he could play that song. He seemed like a show off, trying to impress her. It took a lot more to get her interested in a toy and to think of him anything but a toy at this point.

"No. Not with skirts." He replied. He left his hands in his pocket. "Just everythign in general." He shifted his weight to the other foot and let the other come up against the wall this time. He may be keeping her entertained enough, but she was boring him. She wasn't flirting back, and it's no fun when they don't play along. He would have pouted, only it isn't that important to pout over.

"Soo." He looked around, made a show of looking around by looking to one side, then leaning forward to look around her to the other side. Then he straightened again. "What are you doing alone?" He removed his glasses, folded them, brought his hand out of his pocket and played with them.

”An interest in everything? That must get tiring.” She was looking him over again as he asked what she was doing out here all alone. Waiting for someone to come along that’s what. And now she had that someone and the idea of playing was becoming a very amusing idea in her head right about now.

A hand went to her small back pocket of her skirt and pulled out the switch blade. Hands pulled the blade out and pushed it back over and over again in a bored fashion.

”Waiting for some entertainment.” She looked him over again. ”Guess it came along finally.” She pushed herself off the wall and walked a few paces away and then turned back around to him.

”What are you doing out here all alone?” She threw back at him as her hands continued to play with the knife.

He watched the blade come out, stared at it a moment, and then returned his eyes to her face. No fear or worry, just interest. In the knife now, not the skirt. He slipped his glasses into his bag and put his hands back in his deep pockets.

"Entertainment? I'm not very entertaining," he replied, but he smiled nonetheless. He knew she'd meant him when she'd said 'it finally came' because he's not stupid. Actually, if there was one thing that he was not, it was stupid. He measured the blade with his eye, began to make a formula in his mind as she walked a few paces away.

"I was going home. But then this girl looking for entertainment caught my eye and i just had to stop." He didn't follow her.

A rather eerie and playful smile came across her face as the boy spoke that he wasn’t very entertaining. ”You’d be surprised how entertaining even the dullest of people can be. Just have to know what makes them entertaining.” Blade still flipped in and out as she spoke and then listened to him.

”Stopping isn’t always a good thing, for others anyways. People can just be blind with the danger given right in front of them.” She put emphasis on the word blind and magic surged through her to accompany the word as she stared at the boy. Indeed he would go blind within a few seconds of her saying so.

"Some people are just too trusting," and yes, he knows that he is one of these people. He's always known it. And then he's just blind. He blinked several times then, quick sweeps of eyelashes. He tilted his head downward and to the side a little and blinked again. He put a hand to the side of his face.

"Wow." He blinked again. "my photosynthisizers in my retina must have just...like..." he made a blinking motion with his hand. "blinked out on me." He shook his head. "I can't see." He didn't sound worried in the least. He knew that you couldn't be perminatly blinded by this. Or could he?

What a dull response. Definitely a nerd with all the words he was using. She never really paid attention when in school so didn’t really know what or care about what he was talking about. The only thing that concerned her was that her little trick had worked like always. A smile danced upon her face even though he would be unable to see it as well as her walking closer to him.

”That’s a shame.” The phrase was spoken in a nonchalant way and uncaring whether he could see or not.

”Maybe something got in your eye. Do they burn?” She put force into the last word just as she had done with ‘blind’ pushing more magic through the word.

He blinked at her reply. She didn't sound worried. Not that it mattered because he wasn't worried either. He blinked several more times and then she spoke again. "No, I just can't..." blink. Blink. He shook his head halfway to the side again. "They do, actually, now that you mention it."

He reached up with one hand to the other wrist and pushed back the handcuffs and bracletts and the scrunchie from his wrist and rubbed his eye with the back of his wrist. He made a forcful laugh. "It's that weird. YOu never notice something until someone says something about it?" He bowed his head again, rubbed a little more.

”Yeah. Weird.” She was trying so hard not to laugh at this point. This boy had unnish written all over him and she planned to keep it that way. It was more fun to see them freak out with not understanding what was going on that explaining the entire idea that magic might be real. Nope. He was going to remain unnish as she played with him if she had anything to say about it. She leaned up against the side of the wall again as she had before as he tried to figure out what was going on.

”Maybe your coming down with something, because you can’t stand either for some reason.” More exertion of magic through her words. This was just too entertaining. If only Fear was here then she really would be having fun.

He was too busy thinking, and trying to see, to hear her this time. That's one thing about Ivan, when he lets himself starting thinking about too many things at one time, he completely forgets about that task at hand that was mentioned earlier. And he's currently forgotten about her. He's busy, thinking about his eyes and the burning in them because he thinks of his sightlessness and the burning as two different problems because they didn't occur togather.

"Must be allergic to something in the aaaaaaayyy!" he'd been muttering to himself, one hand rubbing his eyes, the other pushing his hair back when his knees just seemed to stop working and he fell to them, then his hips seemed to just not want to work if his knees didn't have to and he fell down entirly.

He made a muffled cry of suprise.

Fear still wasn't here. Her brother or any showing in Ivan. Just confusion.

She slid down the wall till she was sitting by the fallen boy, papers flying everywhere as he collapsed. It made her chuckle to watch him in his helpless state. Of course the fact that he wasn’t actually screaming yet was a bit deterring. However she couldn’t help but be entertained with him still trying to place logic behind the occurrences.

”Perhaps you got polio or something since you can’t walk.” Voice was still quite nonchalant as she picked at the dirt underneath her fingernails with the tip of the blade.

”You know they say that some people become completely paralyzed from the neck down. That would suck wouldn’t it?” She still had a nasty smile on her face. Poor plaything was all confused. Not so hot now are you? She snickered at him in her head.

The papers felw, luckily none too extremly important, because the important ones go in his folder. But even without his sight and unable to stand up, he still scrambled to grab them. "Maybe my bags are too heavy," he comented. He slipped off the guitar first, then the bag and still found he couldn't stand.

And then he could do nothing but sit, on his knees, his feet out to the side and his butt on the ground. He could move anything. He closed his eyes, squeezed them shut. "I think my bags were to heavy. Or maybe I pinched a nerve." Remeber, he's not even listening to her now, he's thinking too much. Otherwise, by now he'd have made the connection with her words to his mishap, because he's too smart to miss it. But he's just too smart. And so he's thinking too deeply to pay her any mind at all.

Indeed him not paying attention to her was quite irritating. Toys were not supposed to ignore their puppeteers. With a rather agitated look on her face she got up and walked over to the mumbling boy who could not move at all. With one quick slash of the blade across his arm she cut his shirt and made a deep cut across his upper arm near the shoulder.

”It’s not nice to ignore someone.” She said rather irritated as she hovered over the paralyzed boy.

The knife cut his attintion like a sharp knife through jello. He turned his head in her direction, blinking his eyes again. He wanted to rub his eyes, wanted to slap a hand over the wound even though it wouldn't do any good anyways.

"Ow! What the fuck you do that shit for?" Oh dear. It can't be good if Ivan starts to use bad grammer. Swearing is normal to him, bad grammer is not. He glared in the general direction that the cut had come from. "I didn't mean to ignor you! Jesus!" He scowled then. "Help me. Do something."

”Because it’s what I do. You should no better than to stop and chat with a person this side of town. You live here after all. Nobody plays nice.” Voice was nonchalant again as she moved around to his other side. He was so pathetic and helpless it almost inspired her to feel pity towards her play thing. The keyword being ‘almost’ though. She would never actually help any of her toys. After all she was the one that cause the pain.

”I always thought that being too smart would get you in trouble one day.” She snickered as she crouched down next to him on his other side and looked him over again.

”Help you? Why would I want to do that? But I will do something.” She stretched out her hand and with her index finger pushed him in his arm to knock him on his side. Seeing as he could not move anything no doubt he would have nowhere to go but pavement.

Nobody plays nice.

"Not everyone is a bitch," he spat. His scowl had deepened and right about now he'd have probably hit her, if it weren't for a pinched nerve in his neck, causing him not to move. Yes, he'd have hit a girl. He's bipolar, did you know? And his temper is short. Very short. And he's already lost it.

I always thought that being too smart would get you in trouble one day

He laughed, bitter but sweet sound that it was. "It gets me in trouble every damned day." And then he's falling to the side, landing against the sidewalk. He scratched his high cheek bone on the pavment. Road rash. Eh. Ow.

"Bitch." And he thrashes his head to the side so hard that it actually rolls his upper torso over onto his back.

Bitch.

”Tell me something I haven’t heard before.” She said with a sigh and watched as he rolled himself over. The girl helped him the rest of the way to his back and then sat down on top of him on his lower stomach. The blade in her hand ran up and down the front of his shirt teasingly.

”I’d have to say you’re the feistiest play thing I’ve had in a while. The last one didn’t last too long. Quite boring actually.” Her free hand caressed his cheek that was grazed from hitting pavement.

”Does it sting?” She smiled though he still could not see anything. Must be quite annoying to not be able to see or move.

On the contrary, while being unable to move is nearly driving him up a wall, not being able to see makes it not frustrating but panicy. Did we know that Ivan also happens to be afraid of the dark? He doesn't like it at all. I should also say sitting on him didn't hurt his stomach but he often fell out of bed so the back of his neck, shoulders, and space right above the tailbone are often bruised, so she's putting wieght on that bruise.

However, while afraid of the dark, he reminds himself it's day light out and became even less afraid, more defiant. Bitch, hit a man while he's down!

He rolled his face away from her. "Of course it fucking hurts!" It had stung even before she'd said it this time.

”My we have a naughty mouth. Better wash that out with soap. Can’t have my toys behaving badly now can I?” She didn’t pay any attention to whether he hurt or not. In fact she only pushed her weight against the spot more to make it even more painful. After all she only got pleasure out of seeing other’s suffer. This kid didn’t seem to understand that.

Her knife cut down his shirt and she moved the material aside to expose his chest and stomach. The hand that had been touching his cheek now ran down his exposed chest. Indeed he was quite ‘hot’. In fact she knew a way to make him even hotter. Hand removed itself from running down his chest and went for her back pocket for the lighter.

”You know, perhaps I actually know a way to make you even hotter.” She put her blade back in her pocket and flicked the lid of the lighter open and closed now. No doubt with him being a smoker he would understand what was making the noise.

Ivan snarled at the taste of...something...in his mouth. She must have slid somthing into his mouth when he'd opened his lips to retaliate again. He turned his head to the side and spit. The side because if he spit at her and missed, he'd just be spitting on himself. And that would be pointless.

It isn't that Ivan doesn't understand so much as he doesn't care. She's going to hurt him whether he fights or night right? They always do. And he'd rather fight then just lay there. She cut the shirts open. Couldn't she have just unbuttoned the white one and cut the fishnet one?

"That was my favorite fucking shirt, bitch!" Not really. His chest is extremly thin, as is his stomach. Bone showing, possibly anorexic skinny. He isn't. His chest is hairless except that 'happy trail' beneath his belly running into the pants, a pale blond. And his nipples each have one thin silver loop. Uh oh.

He flinched at the sound of the lighter and turned his head, blinking again.

”Like I care if it’s your favorite or not. Shouldn’t get attached to possessions. They just get broken or torn.” And she wasn’t only talking about items, but the people she messed with as well. Better not get attached to one toy in particular for they will only be broken when she’s done with them. She doesn’t even remember half the names that she asks of her victims.

Ah. A flinch. It definitely entices her. The idea of being burned isn’t too appealing is it? Eyes land upon the metal rings running through his nipples. She raises an eyebrow as she flicks the lighter lid again. However she has other things in mind.

”You know metal burns. Extremely painful.” Instead of actually going through with the lighter, she merely suggests it which sometimes was far more painful than the actual occurrence. However with the sounds she was making from the lighter he would assume no doubt that she had actually heated up the silver rings.

"I know that!" He sneered back when she told him metal burns. He did, after all. Genius remember? And good study habbits kept his grades up in science, among all of his other classes. Burning isn't a really pleasent thought at all, but it isn't his greatest fear. She's already covered one of them and he's broken free from it.

He's afraid of the dark, and he won't be afraid because it's day time. That's his second fear. His first...well he's not telling her that one. Fire happens to be the fifth on the list. But it's still not pleasent.

Ivan bit his tongue, which also wasn't pleasent, to keep from crying out in pain, however, his lips pressed tightly togather and he frowed deeply, shutting his useless eyes tightly. And when he couldn't keep the cry in anymore, he made it a word instead of a useless cry.

"Bitch!" How many times has he called her that already. Now there is a slight ring to his tone. It's not panic, it's still anger, and hurt. That's it. He's definatly in pain now.

”I told you to watch your language.” And with that she flicked open the lighter, igniting a small flame and pressed it against his stomach to burn flesh. Now that would definitely hurt.

Though as she burned him, she still remembered the tone of his voice as he called her names once more. It definitely was changing the more pain she inflicted on him with her words. Though he says he was smart he really should learn when to keep his profanity in check and he still couldn’t figure out why he was paralyzed and blind.

She pulled the flickering flame away from flesh finally and closed the lid. Free hand went to his head and ran it through his hair.

”Having fun yet?” She definitely was.

She bruned his stomach and his entire torso would have jerked away from her if he'd not ben paralized. But he didn't even flinch because his body couldn't move. He blinked again, then closed his eyes and a tear ran from the corner of one eye, down the side of his face into his hair.

Why is it, when the smart part of your brain tells you to shut up, show pain, and get it over with, the bipolar infested part wants to lash out and make you do stupid things?

He grinned at her. "I'm having a blast."

She only laughed at his comment. ”If my brother was here then we would really be having a party. Sadly he’s off having fun without me though. What a pity.” The girl retracted some of the magic she had forced upon the boy so he would be able to see again though she took that magic and enforced it to his mouth making the soap taste stronger there.

”What’s your name pet?” Sabia set her lighter on his stomach and then picked up his left hand and started rubbing his palm with her fingers.

He said nothing about her brother. If this was fun for her, her brother being her to make it funner was not something he wanted to happen to him. He didn't even want to meet the guy he was sure. But then, some more blinking, after much of it and a few blink-caused and one pain-caused tear, whatever it was came out of his eye and he slowly gained sight again.

He didn't say so, he simply continued to blink and stare at the sky, two points above her head. Nope! Still can't see! Vision? No not me.

Name?

He stopped squirming, hesitated. "Ian," not it's not. Ivan, but it's close enough. "Godrith." Not it's not. Gothrick, but close enough. Oh by the way, neither of those names are in the phone book. Ian Godrith or Ivan Gothrick. Lucky Ivan.

”Well Ian I must say you have been quite the playful toy. Could do to learn some better words, but other than that very entertaining.” She was rubbing the side of his cheek again with the back of her hand. And then she grabbed his chin and turned his face to the side, leaned over him and kissed him gently on the cheek.

”Want to play some more?” She picked the lighter up again and flipped it open and pressed the flame against his stomach again.

Ivan glared blankly up at the sky. It's the last thing he wants her to know is that he can see again. And maybe if his sight has come back, his feeling from neck down might return again. Who knows, so he'll just bid his time by blinking a lot and glaring blindly around.

He tried to turn his face away from her kiss and then turned his head sharply back, trying to hit her with his chin. But then theres the burn again on his stomach. He flinched, closed his eyes, and let his face get peacful. What would make him less 'fun?' Not fighting back? How hard that might be for Ivan to actually do...

She was about ready to do something to liven up the situation when this horrible feeling seemed to tighten her heart into a knot. A sinking sensation came over her and her eyes went wide as she stared down the alley way. Something was terribly wrong; very wrong.

”Consider yourself extremely lucky.” She spat at him before getting off of him and walking down the street and turned a corner, releasing anything she had done on him (meaning he can walk and do whatever again like normal).

She got up and moved. Just like that. That was it. She was just leaving...

Ivan stared after her, without trying to move for a few moments. But then after a minute, he rolled onto his side, put one hand over one of the nipple rings (which had cooled by now) and one hand over the burn on his stomach, and he curled around his hands. It took him a moment to realize that he'd moved his body, that he could now, and that he was shaking. A little burn with fire isn't a big deal. Have a flame held against you for a while, or the metal in your body heated...that's terrible. And it left him shaking with the pain.

He scrambled to his feet after a moment, one hand still on his stomach burn, and he just stood there.

After a while though, he picked up his guitar and his bag, which seemed heavier now then before, and came back the way he'd come. Screw going home, he wanted Rain. And if he couldn't find him, he wanted to go to the Diner and let his aunt hold him and tell him it was all right.