03-15-2010, 08:11 AM
Of all the sinking ships in all the simulated oceans in all the virtual realities, she had to walk into his. Trafford smirked as he pondered the infamous Casablanca quote that he had modified to fit his own precarious context. The realization that he was in another avaricious man’s digitally constructed fantasy-land had not really come as a shock to the young psychokinetic. And, surprisingly, it had not angered him; Sage’s revelation carried undertones of relief for Alexander – at least he was not dead. In some undisclosed location, in some unknown time, his body was safe and sound. Well, at least he hoped that was the case.
“So, uh, how’ve you been?” Trafford muttered awkwardly as he scratched his head. He certainly did not hold any grudges against the cyan-haired ice queen; but that did not make their situation any less bizarre. Although he was vaguely aware of it, Sage had held him as he died in that frozen tundra; she had cradled his head in her arms as the life slowly left his body. The young girl had seen him when he was most vulnerable, and that made him hesitant. Alex was not keen of having others peer inside the casual and calm façade that he showed the world.
And here was Sage; a shy and peculiar girl who was less open than he. She’d witnessed the determination, grit and immeasurable sorrow that pulled at Trafford’s soul; and he had listened to the cyrokinetic unload her most guarded secret. They were two closed personalities who had caught a glimpse of what lie behind the other’s veil.
What could be more awkward then that?
“I-I’ve . . . I’ve been o-okay, I guess,” Sage stuttered through a reply. Alex smirked. Before their encounter on Dante, they had been allies on Mercy-Sei during a reptilian invasion, and he had nearly forgotten the depths of her shyness.
“You, uh, have any luck after Dante?” Trafford winced and immediately regretted asking the question. Even though it was vague, the inquest was bold and intrusive. His gaze immediately fell to the floor as he hinted at her quest for vengeance. As they rounded a corner Alex summoned the courage to lift his eyes from his feet and glimpse at his newfound companion – hoping that he had not upset her.
He was surprised when his eyes met hers, for they were not filled with anger, but with curiosity and confusion.
“You know, that . . . that thing you had to do . . .” his voice trailed off into a whisper. Whether Sage knew of what he spoke and simply refused to comment or if she was actually confused, he did not know. But he decided it best to abandon the topic immediately. “Well, uh, never mind then.”
Neither party sought to continue the strained conversation. The ice queen’s eyes dropped to her feet and she accelerated her pace in an attempt to keep up with the stampeding throng of third-class citizens. Alex followed suit, then reached into his breast pocket and withdrew another cigarette.
He did not know why, but he was fascinated with the cyan-haired girl. It was not an emotional attraction, or even a physical attraction – hell, he did not even consider her a friend – yet she piqued his curiosity. Perhaps she was a sign that he was not alone in this world. He knew that there were others like him – other people with . . . unique abilities, but everyone that he had met so far viewed their talents as gifts, rather than curses. For most of them, their capabilities were natural – they had been born with them. Whether Sage’s abilities had manifested naturally or not, she was another soul who seemed to be wandering through life searching for a purpose, for a place where she fit in.
Trafford lifted his head and exhaled a plume of smoke into the air, and caught a glimpse of his companion through a veil of bluish-grey fog. Perhaps everything he thought of her was incorrect, and maybe she was normal. But, at least in his own perspective, he seemed to connect with the valium-addicted teenager. To him she was a proof that he was not alone in this world; she was a symbol of possibility.
And that gave him hope. Was that not all that mattered?
“So, uh, how’ve you been?” Trafford muttered awkwardly as he scratched his head. He certainly did not hold any grudges against the cyan-haired ice queen; but that did not make their situation any less bizarre. Although he was vaguely aware of it, Sage had held him as he died in that frozen tundra; she had cradled his head in her arms as the life slowly left his body. The young girl had seen him when he was most vulnerable, and that made him hesitant. Alex was not keen of having others peer inside the casual and calm façade that he showed the world.
And here was Sage; a shy and peculiar girl who was less open than he. She’d witnessed the determination, grit and immeasurable sorrow that pulled at Trafford’s soul; and he had listened to the cyrokinetic unload her most guarded secret. They were two closed personalities who had caught a glimpse of what lie behind the other’s veil.
What could be more awkward then that?
“I-I’ve . . . I’ve been o-okay, I guess,” Sage stuttered through a reply. Alex smirked. Before their encounter on Dante, they had been allies on Mercy-Sei during a reptilian invasion, and he had nearly forgotten the depths of her shyness.
“You, uh, have any luck after Dante?” Trafford winced and immediately regretted asking the question. Even though it was vague, the inquest was bold and intrusive. His gaze immediately fell to the floor as he hinted at her quest for vengeance. As they rounded a corner Alex summoned the courage to lift his eyes from his feet and glimpse at his newfound companion – hoping that he had not upset her.
He was surprised when his eyes met hers, for they were not filled with anger, but with curiosity and confusion.
“You know, that . . . that thing you had to do . . .” his voice trailed off into a whisper. Whether Sage knew of what he spoke and simply refused to comment or if she was actually confused, he did not know. But he decided it best to abandon the topic immediately. “Well, uh, never mind then.”
Neither party sought to continue the strained conversation. The ice queen’s eyes dropped to her feet and she accelerated her pace in an attempt to keep up with the stampeding throng of third-class citizens. Alex followed suit, then reached into his breast pocket and withdrew another cigarette.
He did not know why, but he was fascinated with the cyan-haired girl. It was not an emotional attraction, or even a physical attraction – hell, he did not even consider her a friend – yet she piqued his curiosity. Perhaps she was a sign that he was not alone in this world. He knew that there were others like him – other people with . . . unique abilities, but everyone that he had met so far viewed their talents as gifts, rather than curses. For most of them, their capabilities were natural – they had been born with them. Whether Sage’s abilities had manifested naturally or not, she was another soul who seemed to be wandering through life searching for a purpose, for a place where she fit in.
Trafford lifted his head and exhaled a plume of smoke into the air, and caught a glimpse of his companion through a veil of bluish-grey fog. Perhaps everything he thought of her was incorrect, and maybe she was normal. But, at least in his own perspective, he seemed to connect with the valium-addicted teenager. To him she was a proof that he was not alone in this world; she was a symbol of possibility.
And that gave him hope. Was that not all that mattered?
![[Image: alext.jpg]](http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v234/waffuru/alext.jpg)