milliways_bar | (no subject)

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[After a peaceful day]

The door opens upon a girl with a basket in her arms, and those who are looking may note the slight widening of her eyes, the briefest flash of panic. It is quickly hidden though as she erases even the faintest hint of a smile from her lips, and steps into Bar.

The basket holds a puppy, perhaps no more than a week oldor a little more. Bar herself is a good place to head to when there are no instructions, so Tool recieves a coloring book and crayons...

And since the puppy is asleep, she has no reason to do aught else.

The picture she starts is perfect. Excellent shading, an artistic masterpiece...

And she doesn't finish it. Her fingers freeze, the crayon cracks, unforgiveable that. She does not want perfection, not in something so simple as this...

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Archie is watching her carefully. She doesn't seem as... empty as she did last they spoke, but she is still... not right. He doesn't approach her, but he will make certain that no harm comes to her.

Only someone who is watching would notice the finest trembling in her hand as the crayon slowly tumbles into two pieces to spin about on the coloring page. Very few would understand the horror she feels at her own audacity, or the instant fear...

He watches her for a moment longer, seeming to argue with himself until he finally stands and walks over, scooping uo the crayon and handing it back to her.

"You dropped this, miss."

It hurts him. He hates to see children suffering.

The picture is half colored, every detail exact down to the markings on the owl.

Well, mostly exact, there's a jagged line where her hand started to shake and the crayon snapped.

Tool doesn't meet his eyes, but that oddly alien aire about her is gone, that hair raising tingling is missing...it doesn't matter though, she's still so very broken. "Apologies, Master"

Broken he understands. Broken he can deal with, there are a good many broken people about. It was the emptiness that had driven him outside to retch in the bushes outside.

"You needen't apologize miss, I just thought that you might miss it."

No comment about the shaking hands or the dark line in the picture.

"Please, don't call me master. I'm no one's master, least of all yours."

She does not want the crayon nub. Does not to finish copying out the picture by rote. Certainly does not miss it.

"Thank you Lord, for your kindness"

She takes it, and bends her attention once more to the task, never noticing one small, crystalline streak of moisture that escapes her eye.

"You don't have all the colors without it."

He points out gently. He slips into the chair opposite her.

"Would you perhaps like a new one?"

"No Lord, thank you for your kindness" she answered by rote.

She broke it, she will work with the consequences, and accept what punishment she must.

Then she blinked, not knowing how a drop of water had gotten upon the page.

He reaches out to touch her hand lightly. It takes a moment to do so, but he manages.

"Lass, you don't have to thank me."

He doesn't know what to say to her, he doesn't know how to get through to her. He understands brokenness, but he doesn't have much experience in fixing such things.

There is still that very fine trembling, better noticed when touching her hand. It must take a great deal of will, or at least training, to keep coloring inside the lines with such disruption occuring.

"The Lord is kind"

He should take the crayons from her, let her stop this.

He shakes his head to himself.

"Lass, I... Would you like me to get you some more paper? Or would you rather leave me to your drawing?"

"Is there aught the Lord wishes drawn?" the voice is somehow softer, lost as she asks that question.

She does not enjoy it.

"Only if doing such a thing would please you."

His voice is still soft, uncertain. He is getting much better at talking to childern, but she is not a child for all her youth.

No, she is far from a child, a fact Bar should have been told before giving such to her.

She cannot think of her own pleasures when an ault is speaking.

An adult Male.

A Master.

"What would the Lord wish drawn?" she asked, flat and empty as any doll.

From the basket in the booth beside her, there is a small, worried chirrup. Foolish is a rather sensitive puppy, and young though she still is...she knows whenthere is something bad.

Archie opens and closes his mouth for a moment, trying to decide whether it would be better to ask for something, or insist that she doesn't have to if she doesn't want to. After all, he had said that she should if it pleases her. The little noise is a welcome distraction. He tilts his head a little.

"What was that, miss?"

It is momentary, that brief flash of relief that crosses her face as she sets aside the crayons and book.

Followed by equally momentary fear at the thought of showing such a helpless creature to a Master...

But she draws the basket carefully onto the table top to display a puppy with eyes not even open yet, greyand black spots along a baby-round body. "It is Foolish"

He watches the emotions cross her face with something like wonder that she is showing any at all. He watches her care as she handles the basket and its contents.

"It is a good name, I think."

He smiles a little and reaches out to let the pup sniff his fingers.

Archie? Is not Tool. So the fingers do not get nibbled lovingly, though they are bumped against once or twice as the little pup searches blindly for what she wants.

"I am to care for her until she may be wise enough to know her foolishness" she stated calmly, letting her hand dip into the basket.

He can rub the little thing behind her ears though, and he does.

"What does she do that makes her so foolish, miss?"
He looks at her curiously, he honestly wants to know her opinion on the matter.

She squeeks. Eventually, she'll bark...

"She refuses to nurse as is proper in young mammals. Chasing instead, I, who cannot bear milk. It is a foolish thing"

"Perhaps. Perhaps she simply likes you. There are, after all, other ways of getting nourishment."

He continues to rub the pup's ears gently.

"Perhaps she just wants a friend, which would make her very wise indeed."

Martha had said much the same.

"She is to young to know of other ways. In most cases, a young pup that refuses to nurse, dies" she stated firmly.

"And a far healthier bond would lie in he littermates"

"But she will not die, will she? You are taking good care of her. You won't let anything bad happen to her, will you?"

She has no power to protect the pup. Bad things happen all the time to the weak and the defenseless.

And Master was alwys at his most cruel when asking such gentle seeming questions.

She wants to snag the basket and run far, far from him...but cannot make herself move...

Her eyes go wide with remembered fear though. "Master if I have angered, she cannot take damage enough to appease you..."

He stares at her blankly for a moment.

"Oh God."

His face goes pale, and he remembers something different, but similar enough to know.

"I will never hurt you or your puppy lass. You have my word on that."

An adult's word means nothing.

Promises made to her mean less.

"Master is kind"

"Lass..."

He winces at her manner. It hurts how afraid she is, how very accepting of the fear she has become.

"When I was young, there was one that... did things to me. I would not have any such thing happen to you or anyone else in this place. It is my duty to keep people safe. That includes you."

"I understand" she doesn't. She has no concept of being protected.

She stood, dipping a bow as Foolish whimpered louder "If it pleases..."

She'd like to leave.

"You do not need to ask my permission miss."

He watches her, cursing himself for making it worse.

"Ever."

He thinks he might need a drink.

She flees. It is the best term, leaving that half fininshed picture and taking her precious puppy with her through the door.

Two things that Harold adores:
Crayons and puppies.

He's at her side with happy and cute-ness and large three year old innocent eyes.
"Hiiii!"

One thing Tool has no experience with at all? Children.

Young creatures.

Beings that don't fall into the Master category...

"Hello"

He points and squees. "Puppy!!!"

"Puppy" she confirmed, wincing slightly at the sudden burst of noise.

Luckily she's sitting between this loud creature and her small helpless pup.

"I have puppy too..BIG puppy! Name Snowball. She good puppy!
And you have pwetty ctwayons. I saw dem. I have a twayon too! Mine special twayon jus' for me! See?" He reaches into his overalls and pulls out his puple crayon.

"You like bunnies? Bunnies good too!"
He draws a bunny which begins to hop around on the floor. He grins. "Pwetty bunny!!"

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