~Take Thee Away [Rade]

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Zanita Luzell

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The girl had discovered many new things today. The most obvious one was that Sebastian is a shit fighter. He may be able to twirl words together and make a few threats but evidently he can get knocked out by a girl half his size (although not before giving her a matching nose job). Although her emotions had settled down after Seb was finally rendered unconscious, it did not keep the emotional turmoil from bubbling back up. Kovu and Sebastian, Zanita imagined them in two different areas of her life and never the twain shall meet. Ever.

Despite being infuriated with the man, the girl took a hold of his feet and started to drag him back to the main encampment. When she caught some of the kids staring she snapped at them, threatening to withhold food in her newly acquired nasally accent. He may be a crap fighter, but he sure was heavy. After dragging him halfway through the forest, Zanita finally parked him in the makeshift tent leaning on a tree truck that she hadn't been frequenting very often anymore. However, she couldn't leave him in the open where he usually stayed, the hungry bone gnawer were out and who knows what they'd do to him.

The girl had never considered herself soft in any sense of the word but despite having caused all the injuries on the boy (plus all the scratches caused by dragging him here) she felt the need to help him.

What need to be done? Well, he had already set his own nose back into place. That brought her fingers up to gently prod at her own injury which needed to be cracked back into place. Uh, later. Yeah, later is better.

Grabbing a near by rag and dipping it into the pail if water- one of the few luxuries Zanita enjoyed- and laid it out of the boy's forehead. His eyes was swelling and turning a dark shade of purple. Although proud of her work, Zanita slid the cloth down to cover the blow. Cool water slowed swelling, right?

It became a rhythm- dip the cloth, wring it out, lay it, then repeat. Sebastian didn't seem like he was going to wake up anytime soon so the girl began to hum to herself to match the the beat the of her healer's dance. It was actually a creepy sort of song, the dirges young children sing to scare one another on long lonely nights. That and tales of men who change into beasts under a full moon- stories and nothing more.

Come Little Children
I'll Take Thee Away, Into A Land
Of Enchantment
Come Little Children
The Time's Come To Play
Here In My Garden
Of Magic

Singing the words softly, she changed Sebastian's dressing, putting off her own dreaded healing and just basking in the afternoon heat. At least she had the comfort of knowing that Kovu was far from here and safe. Although safe in a mansion girl's arms was not what Zanita was hoping for.
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Sebastian Rothul

Dreams.

Such a simple phrase that can mean so much. There are three major types of dreams that will be described below.

The first being the daydream, the normal erg of imagination that seeks to free the mind from whatever it is that is boring it. These daydreams can be as mundane as a young boy simply picturing himself splashing through a puddle after his parent has told him not to, or a young girl pining for a dashing young rogue to steal her away from the dreariness that is her life. These daydreams can become far more fanciful and border on the near ridiculous or the heightened extreme, becoming more and more fantastic with every passing moment, a bored student might think of a dragon barbecuing an ill-tempered teacher, or paint with thoughts of boarding up a house to prepare for the inevitable invasion of the undead. Regardless of the form that the waking dream takes, it is usually a happy existence, with the mind free to do as it will in a situation where the body is not.

Sometimes, these might take a turn for the worse, with the person imagining the very worst that could potentially befall them, and what their friends might do if they were to leave one day and never return. "Oh how they'll miss me when I'm gone, for they do not even know when I am here." Sebastian often had these thoughts, picturing his hands closing in around a hated enemies throat to throttle the the very last breath from their struggling body, or the wild yet faint hope of finding something more than a life on the streets of the district, a real home with a real family; But this is not the frame of mind that he was experiencing at that moment.

Another form, and one that is misused, is the usage of the term dream to describe a person's goals. "What is your dream job? Your deepest desire?" Of course, for some, these goals might very well be dreams as long as they do not strive to work towards it. Sebastian had lofty goals himself, most of which would require the deaths of several people to be achieved. But this too, is not what he felt.

The third dream is the dream born of the subconscious, the type over which little control can be exerted, if any. These are the fragments of the slumbering psyche brought together like a puzzle to form a moving picture. They can have next to no meaning, or they can define a person. The subconscious mind will run rampant with the things that the waking mind chooses to ignore, revealing things about a persons self that they may not wish to confront. There is almost always rhyme and reason hiding in the oft wild seeming imagination of the sleeping mind. Sebastian's dreams were no exception. But...

The boy from nine was not really asleep now was he?

So the above can not give a full grasp on the then current state of his mind, For it is not his conscious or subconscious mind that is referred to, but rather, the unconscious mind.

The black grip of the darkness and the crushing weight of oblivion that assailed his senses after getting his rump soundly and solidly thrashed by Zanita Luzell, In this state, she might as well have been dragging a corpse back to her tent. There was a void where his thought process should have been. His body could not register the movement that ceased as it was brought to a stop. The bruised skin around his eyes could feel the dampness of the cloth that was so carefully laid across his face. There was no way for his ears to hear the lilting tune that swept across the inside of the makeshift dwelling, but perhaps the constant increase in activity around him spoke to his deadened senses in some manner, for he stirred.

Blinking hazily, he tried to sit straight up, only to see stars and nearly pass back out. Even so, a surly quality made itself evident in his surprised voice as he took the cloth off and peered around blearily.


"Wha-What's going on? Where am I?" What's this on my face? Zanita?!"

[sbeeg]

Zanita Luzell

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Chances are that if caught in the act of singing most people will cut off leaving their final note hanging like a cliff face. Singing is such a personal thing, and most people tend to keep their special voice to themselves. Then again Zanita Luzell is of a whole other ilk. When her charge finally showed signs of life, she rolled her eyes quickly grabbing the cloth he had removed and slapping it back onto his skin. She took a breath, pausing in her song to give a snide "Calm down princess," before diving back into the lyrics.

Follow Sweet Children
I'll Show Thee The Way
Through All The Pain And
The Sorrows
Weep Not Poor Children
For Life Is This Way
Murdering Beauty And
Passions

The tune was intoxicating, a rhythm she had grown up with on the streets. If anything her voice grew louder as she became more into the music. Zanita wasn't very concerned with what Sebastian thought of her voice, he was half way conscious and she seriously doubted he was listening at all. Lost in her thoughts she suddenly cut off the song, looking down into Sebastian's face.

"You look awful, you realize that?" she said, smiling in her nasally, fractured nose voice. She was sure she didn't look much better, especially Zanita hadn't really cleaned any of the blood off of her face. She wasn't the one passed out, thus not needing any medical care. Her fingers touched the purplish skin around his eye, testing to see if it hurt or if he was even awake anymore. "Not to mention you're an idiot."

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Sebastian Rothul

Her behavior, her actions were an utter mystery. Did not the law of the jungle state that the strong flourish where the weak perish? It had been his mistake to misstep his boundaries and let his temper and his girl get the best of him. But what was she up to? Was she playing a new sort of mind game? If their roles had been reversed he would have left her to bake in the sun for a few hours to teach a stern lesson about raising a hand to his authority. That would have been far preferable to feeling like he had been hit by a transport train, and then run over again as it backed over him.

Meanwhile, Zanita sang a mournful tune while she tended to wounds she had inflicted herself. Never would he admit it, but he found her dirge to be oddly comforting. Keeping silent, he allowed her to finish, drinking in the notes and the fluting tone of her voice. Sebastian had never heard her like this, not arguing or insulting, just a hauntingly beautiful moment of time that he would keep locked away in his heart. "You look awful, you realize that?"Well you look like crap yourself." he grunted.

Wincing as her fingers touched the ruined flesh around his eye, he gingerly reached up to feel his nose. it was the body part that had suffered the most abuse, but he had managed o move it back into place before passing out. The cloying scent of re-hydrated dried blood assaulted his nostrils, and he wiped some of the brownish sludge off of his face in disgust."Not to mention you're an idiot."
"I'm still smarter then you, so you must be brain dead then. Maybe I let you get in a few lucky sho..." Pain rocketed through his face again "Aw screw it. You beat me. But don't expect it to happen again." Staring up at the roof of her makeshift dwelling, he let slow steady breaths soothe his jangled nerves. There was no reason to over-exert himself now that he wasn't in any immediate danger. This did little to comfort him. Who knew who had seen him in this fashion? It was bad public relations concerning the rest of the tribe. But he wasn't about to let her know that. Watching the concern on her face, he stuck his tongue in the side of his cheek and struggled to find a way to thank her. It was obvious to him that she cared more about him than she'd let on.

"What was that song? It was...pleasant."

[sbeeg]

Zanita Luzell

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"Well you look like crap yourself." the girl could not hold back her laugh, and had no reason not to in the privacy of her tent. Her chuckle turned into a snort that sent pain shooting through her nose. Wincing, she spread her fingers over the swelling flesh. "I'm still smarter then you, so you must be brain dead then. Maybe I let you get in a few lucky sho..." even before all the words were out his mouth Zanita had raised an eyebrow, eyeing him as if to say "Oh, really?" However her threat was lost as Sebastian winced from the pain. That's what he gets for being... well, Sebastian. "Aw screw it. You beat me. But don't expect it to happen again."

Smiling once again with her unique smug grin that was reserved for Sebastian alone. Most of the time, the others knew they were lower than her on the totem pole, however Sebastian still fought as if he were the king. Funny how men think like that. However, his confession of his loss was enough to take pity on him for the time being. She had probably knocked him upside the head one too many times and these words are just the symptoms of a concussion. Her fingers found his forehead and pushed his hair, back idly running her fingers through it.

"What was that song? It was...pleasant." A silent smirk found Zanita's lips as she looked down at him. In this injury induced stupor he seemed like such a kind person. No stern expressions creased his face. Of course Zanita had known what was lurking beneath that hard coating- she had seen it fall away many times before. "Pleasant? Geez, you sure know how to woo a girl," she laughed lightly, moving her hand from his hair to caress his cheek- which was developing a bruise of its own. "It's just some song- It's supposed to be depressing."
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Ignoring the jabs, Sebastian rolled over onto his side and sighed deeply.“The saddest of melodies are often the most beautiful. Whatever. Forget I said anything.” Re-positioning himself into a more comfortable recline he found himself unable to focus on anything but the dull ache in his face and the smug grin etched on Zanita’s. “What’re you lookin at?”he grumbled. “Never seen a wounded man before?” It was meant as an insult, but it wound up setting off a few questions for himself. What had this girl been up to before falling in with the street rats of district nine? His own life had been comparably dull before becoming homeless. It had been his choice to leave after his father’s demise, a decision he had yet to regret. It had been an easy thing to decide, skipping out and running the streets in lieu of letting himself be shunted into one of the group homes.

At fifteen, he had been confident enough in his own abilities to eke out a life on his own; and even though the first year had been rough, he was still happy with what he had made of himself.“You and Kovu have been...together for a long time.”It was more of a statement than an actual question, as his frazzled mind attempted to make sense of her outstanding reaction to what he had done. Brutally taking him apart in defense of her “brother” only to bring Sebastian back to health. It was difficult for him to understand her motivations. What had they gone through together? It must have been quite the ordeal to keep them so close for so long. But then, what did that say about the relationship he and the girl had? What did that make him?

Flash.
Empty bottles shattering on white walls, staining the paint with brown liquid and tiny embedded pieces of glass. Sebastian sweeps the shards into a dustpan as his father curses the day he brought home his useless son. The remnants of the bottles are stashed where they always are; a little culvert behind the house and under the drainage pipe. The pile of glass has grown, sticking out of the ground in little clumps formed of the material and held together with mud and dead grass.

Flash.
Pain screaming throughout his head, blood seeping down the side of his cheek as he struggles feebly against his attacker. The best mistake of his life, to hold a knife to his father's neck, only to watch as the tables turn immediately, with Sebastian himself taking the short end of the stick.
The blood dries as the cool of the night breeze caresses his face in the front yard. He refuses to let his father see him cry, the bitter angry tears mixing with the warm elixir that oozes from the gash on his face.
Unsure of himself, he looked at her neck rather than meet her gaze and asked the simple question that echoed in the caverns of his mind.

“Why?”

[sbeeg]

Zanita Luzell

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“The saddest of melodies are often the most beautiful." The girl couldn't decide if Sebastian was right, or completely wrong. What is so beautiful about something that hurts? What makes mourning worth adoring? Zanita had gone through her life ignoring grief and pity because if you give in and feel anything except determination you won't survive. It's that simple. Perhaps her companion had lived a life where he could ponder such pretty words and thoughts, but for the lone Luzell in District Nine that was a luxury.

How complex and thought provoking his words were, only to be thrown away with a curt "Forget I said anything." She must have hit him a little too hard- Sebastian Rothul does not want anyone to forget any of the wisdom he spits out. He sprinkled in a few off hand comments that made Zanita grin. Her fingers were on his forehead again, brushing his hair back even though she had already repeated the action enough to complete the job.

“You and Kovu have been...together for a long time.”

Her eyes were directed at her charge but her mind was far away, in the streets of District Nine. It had been raining, the pavement painted a dark grey and the sun held hostage by the clouds. She could still feel the thin material of her jacket wrapped around her skinny shoulders, trying to hold in some heat against the rain...

“Why?”

Why what? Why was she here? Why was Zanita deprived of a life where she could live in safety and with parents watching over her? Why had she become a protector at an age when she could have been protected? Why had her childhood been so untimely ripped from her grasp? Why had she been so intent on protecting Kovu when he was old enough to fight his own battles?

"I had to," her face was a clean slate free of any kind of emotion, with lips pressed into a firm line. Her dark eyes were looking at some point far off that no one else could see- a street painted with rain. Could she reveal her pathetic life to Sebastian? Would it help to let it out or would it only hurt to remember? Was it even worth mentioning? The trembling in her fingers as they combed through his hair said yes.

"When... when I was very young," her voice was strong, but her words unsure. She did not have the talent of speaking as eloquently as Sebastian when it came to matters of the heart. Sarcasm? She was your girl. Painfully memories? Not so much. "I came home from school to an empty house. My mother had just... vanished. Gone. Without any word, or note or anything."

Zanita thought telling people about your pain was supposed to help, but the feeling of abandonment came over her like a wave, drowning the wall she had put up to block it. Her eyes suddenly found her lap, her shoulders hunched over and her fingers suddenly clutching Sebastian's hair.

"To avoid bein' thrown in a state home I lived on the streets. There was a kind storekeeper who'd give me an apple every Thursday..." suddenly it was just too hard. Memories and emotions she had bottled up so long were being released too quickly for her to control. The memory of the man's face flashed in her mind- he had such a round face. She'd always remember that, the round, flushed red storekeeper with short chubby fingers that stretched out to offer her what little food he could. Green apples in the Spring, red ones in the Summer, bruised ones in Autumn and mushy ones in Winter. Zanita's seasons were marked by what kind of apple she received. And then she was crying. She couldn't remember feeling the tears build up, but they were there on her battered cheeks, marking trails down her face.

"Kovu made me feel like I wasn't so alone," it came out as more of a cry than a recalled memory- her voice straining to be understood through the tears. "I promised to keep him safe."

Because no one ever made that promise to me.
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Sebastian had never been taught to be a nurturing giver. The lessons he learned from his father’s upbringing had shown him that the weak perished and the strong survived; that is was a race to see how much a person could get, with no worry as to who was hurt in the process. Not only that, but whenever someone actually tried to better themselves, others would meet them with a mix of awe and jealous revulsion. In most cases, it appeared that those that strove to better their lot in life became enraged at the success of others; although if this anger was truly meant towards the person in question or was actually pointed at their own self for not succeeding like the other was a thought that was beyond him at the moment.

It was societal ill’s like that that plagued the district, perhaps even the whole country. Things like rage and avarice. Greed clung to many people like flies on honey. Whether this was for money or for social standing made no difference. Often times, actions were performed with intent to increase recognition, to be able to blackmail another or simply for the overall benefit of the one performing the action, not the others that could be helped or harmed by doing so. In most cases selfishness was one of the first things people learned, whether it was for the last cookie as a child or withholding money from a beggar because they feel self-important and above the less fortunate.

In the face of that, kindness was a rare commodity indeed, perhaps because people feared that which they did not fully understand or comprehend. But wasn’t everyone afraid to some level? There were worries and fears that followed many people throughout their day to day life. It could be as simple as fearing to lose a game or wager to fearing for one's life or family. The fear of one's true colors being shown; their innermost thoughts laid bare; feelings of love for someone that were not returned. Was this the cause of all the strife in the world? The fact that few were the people willing to be true; that small was the number of people that remained real when everyone else around them conformed to a shallow charade as they moved through life?

Was the world short on the willpower to overcome these things? To strive for the better and not let the surroundings warp their sense of self into something it never was. To say no to anger and greed, to refuse to let fear get a foothold and move from day to day with confidence and joy. Was that not what the little homeless gang had done? That they could live without all the trappings and comforts of the world, and find that the greatest thing that they could ever find was inside of each other? That is what not the man that makes the actions, but the actions that make the man... or woman. That was illustrated perfectly during every annual games, when the one that was triumphant would generally find themselves going through the entire emotional spectrum as they hacked and slashed their way through enemies and fair weather friends. Though the same was done with words every single day of everyone's existence.

What Zanita had just shown him was that she was capable of hope. The hope for a better tomorrow despite the evils that had to be dealt with. The hope that it was just a passing thing and that a new day would dawn and bring with it that same hope, no matter how faint, because it was there. The hope that it would shine out the clearer, that today would be the day; an end to the struggles and the strife that ushered in a joyful peace. Is that she hoped for when she took the other boy under her wing? That maybe if she improved someone else life, her own pain would be lightened that much more? A strange emotion indeed was the one labeled compassion.

She truly felt for the boy, a kinship of sorts that kept her moving, protected him and even...loved him. A different kind of love than the one Sebastian was used to, but maybe his perception of that was off. She loved Kovu like a brother, if not a son. if so, where did sebastian fit in with this family? For it was one. Not the family he was born into, but a family all the same. They had their share of arguments and hurt feelings, but when it came down to it, they were there for each other. Was that not love as well? And the feelings he had for her, the burning in his chest, the lump in his throat whenever he saw her, or even the way her voice was pleasing to his ears? Was that not what made him human? For centuries philosophers and theologians have debated what it means to be human. Perhaps the answer has eluded us because it is so simple. To be human is to choose. To choose the better things, or to choose to let base nature define a person made all the difference. Life is nothing but a series of choices and the results thereof.

And so, as Sebastian listened to her teary-eyed tirade, he felt overcome with emotion. At the same time he wanted to smack her he wanted to kiss her, to hold her, to hold onto the only thing that made sense to him in the mixed up confusion that was their lives. Sitting up and taking her hands in his he shot her a loving smirk, at least as loving as smirks can be. “Well, you have me now don’t you?” The kiss he instigated was tender, a mere brushing of her lips as he struggled with what he was trying to say. “I...I. lo..”Turning his head aside to clear his throat he tried again.

"I..I love you Zanita. I’m not sure what that really means right now, but I..do.”

[sbeeg]

Zanita Luzell

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“Well, you have me now don’t you?”

The words seemed far away even with Sebastian being so close. Maybe it was the pounding in her temple the girl got whenever she would cry, or the general feeling of letting all those memories go but Zanita Luzell felt like she was in a different world. Another land where, even after breaking someone's nose and spilling all your secrets to them, they reassure you. They wrap your hands in their warm ones. They make you feel like you're not so alone after eighteen long years of it.

“Well, you have me now don’t you?”

Echoing inside her head, the girl mulled over the words and how different they were from Sebastian's retorts when they first met. "You needn't hide. You can't sneak up on me... Lioness."Oh, how she had hated that nickname, but how true it had rung. A strong, protective lioness who had only wanted to keep her cub safe. How different they were, these two Sebastians Zanita had known. The cocky, cruel beast that had overtaken her tribe from her and blackmailed her in order to steal power and this one. The boy holding her hand and... protecting the protector. It was refreshing to let her walls down, getting a break from being on the defense. Being able to lean on another person and let them how hard she has fought through life.

"You could've just asked you know." She could still see that smirk on his face, the cruel sneer that she had despised. Yet now the grin he wore was softer and held so much more meaning than any scowl he had donned before, "I'm not entirely without mercy."

At the time it was mere sarcasm- quips to infuriate her and make Zanita do something rash. Yet, Sebastian Rothul was made an honest man. How merciful it was to feel his lips on hers once again. It was like no other one they had shared- not the ones out of spite or the ones fueled by passion. This one was special and oh so different. Just the barest of touches, a caress as light as air. Who would have thought such a arrogant, power hungry boy could be capable of such tender things. Zanita knew. She had known a long time ago.

“I...I. lo..” and suddenly he was turned away from her. Zanita's fingers tightened around his hands, not wanting to miss a single moment. She wanted to explore every inch of him, look into his eyes and see every color- every single shade that was hidden there. "I..I love you Zanita."

Who else had said those words? In the span of the girl's life who had told Zanita Luzell that they loved her? She reached back in her mind only to come up empty.

I’m not sure what that really means right now, but I..do.” Wiggling a hand free from his grip, Zanita gently took Sebastian's cheek in her hand and, being mindful of his bruises, tiled his face towards hers. Fingers fell away from his face and she took in the entirety of his features. Even with a black eye, a broken nose and countless number of bruises Zanita found him irresistibly charming. It seems that the colder the outer shell is, the warmer the core. How cruel he had first seemed and to look at him now confessing love.

Confessing love to her. What was it she had said all those weeks ago when she had slipped through the night, knife in hand, prepared to do what she needed to for her pride. Only that hadn't gone as she had intended it to. What are you capable of? his voice rang in her head as if he had said it right then. Love. That had been her answer. And it still was.

"I do too," she said breathlessly, a lump forming in her throat that had not been there a few moments before. "Love you." Taking a moment to suck in a greatly needed breathe of air, Zanita let it out letting it take all the butterflies and nerves with it.

"I love you Sebastian Rothul," she said, her own little smirk pulling at the corner of her lips. "And don't you forget it."



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