TaLi63372
Adventurer
For the next few days, the girl stayed in her room at the inn. She had been physically exhausted and now mentally worn out as well. She didn't know what to think about that whole evening.
She wasn't angry.
Anger is an emotion designed to confront a perceived wrong. Anger was fueled by a person's innate desire to bring justice for one's self. She had been upset, even angry, but always it was aimed at a situation rather than an individual. To be angry at an individual would mean that she was their equal and that she had the right to be upset for something done to her. In her mind, although she shared physical characteristics, she was not the same. She wasn't no longer human... she had never been. She had no inalienable rights. She was an Other. Thus the thought that she could be angry to them simply never truly occurred to her.
So anger stayed absent. Confusion filled that void in abundance.
Up until now a pecking order has seem absent. All of the ones that drifted into the girl's days and nights, seemed to exist. No one barked orders or showed dominance. There had been only one incident in the tavern when a lady had caused John Hard Water to draw his sword. The woman had vanished. Since she no longer existed, it wasn't something the child thought to dwell on.
That night a few days ago had been different. John Hard Water had held onto the one associated with the sound Faeryl. It wasn't a good hold. It looked like it had hurt the elf. He had been angry... very angry. That tone the child associated with pain. The sound 'child' had been spoken many times with that tone and with ample volume. He had even pointed at her several times. Whatever was being said, she had obviously done something wrong. At some point during the adults' confrontation, the child had shut down. She went to that spot in her mind where she hid. She rocked and waited for the inevitable pain to come. No pain came. She once again saw more things that weren't there. Things not real. She had been led into another room by the man who had given her a stuffed horse. The sound of a fight and screaming leaked into the room as she cried and rocked on the bed. She was told to cover her eyes as the man called Sergio had led her through the blood-soaked tavern. He had seen her safely back to the inn.
John Hard Water and the one that never uncovered his head. She couldn't remember his sound. Were there more groups than she knew? Was John like The Doctor? At the First Place, The Doctor told Them and the Others what to do. They never told The Doctor what to do. It was simple. Easy. Here, it seemed not as simple.
What had happened to all of them that night?
What was now happening to her?
She had heard Aila's voice when her lips hadn't moved. Aila's voice had told her to come and she had been told she was a good girl when she did so. She had seen things without it being in front of her eyes. She had seen a woman there and then the next gone. Her eyes and ears were broken and she didn't know how to fix them. It hadn't happened since then. Maybe they were fixed.
She wasn't angry.
Anger is an emotion designed to confront a perceived wrong. Anger was fueled by a person's innate desire to bring justice for one's self. She had been upset, even angry, but always it was aimed at a situation rather than an individual. To be angry at an individual would mean that she was their equal and that she had the right to be upset for something done to her. In her mind, although she shared physical characteristics, she was not the same. She wasn't no longer human... she had never been. She had no inalienable rights. She was an Other. Thus the thought that she could be angry to them simply never truly occurred to her.
So anger stayed absent. Confusion filled that void in abundance.
Up until now a pecking order has seem absent. All of the ones that drifted into the girl's days and nights, seemed to exist. No one barked orders or showed dominance. There had been only one incident in the tavern when a lady had caused John Hard Water to draw his sword. The woman had vanished. Since she no longer existed, it wasn't something the child thought to dwell on.
That night a few days ago had been different. John Hard Water had held onto the one associated with the sound Faeryl. It wasn't a good hold. It looked like it had hurt the elf. He had been angry... very angry. That tone the child associated with pain. The sound 'child' had been spoken many times with that tone and with ample volume. He had even pointed at her several times. Whatever was being said, she had obviously done something wrong. At some point during the adults' confrontation, the child had shut down. She went to that spot in her mind where she hid. She rocked and waited for the inevitable pain to come. No pain came. She once again saw more things that weren't there. Things not real. She had been led into another room by the man who had given her a stuffed horse. The sound of a fight and screaming leaked into the room as she cried and rocked on the bed. She was told to cover her eyes as the man called Sergio had led her through the blood-soaked tavern. He had seen her safely back to the inn.
John Hard Water and the one that never uncovered his head. She couldn't remember his sound. Were there more groups than she knew? Was John like The Doctor? At the First Place, The Doctor told Them and the Others what to do. They never told The Doctor what to do. It was simple. Easy. Here, it seemed not as simple.
What had happened to all of them that night?
What was now happening to her?
She had heard Aila's voice when her lips hadn't moved. Aila's voice had told her to come and she had been told she was a good girl when she did so. She had seen things without it being in front of her eyes. She had seen a woman there and then the next gone. Her eyes and ears were broken and she didn't know how to fix them. It hadn't happened since then. Maybe they were fixed.
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