"D'you ask girls where they're going for no reason, then?"
"Do I look like I make a hobby of it?"
"Then why the hell'd you ask?"
"Can't you tell me that?"
She bares her teeth at him, tiny little perfect teeth like white pomegranate seeds. If he believed in God, he'd pray she asked another question. Since he doesn't know what he believes in, he wishes he had a coin to flip that would decide the matter.
ah, it's perfect -- ! it's like he's falling back on questions just to keep her talking, that and it's all he has to fall back on -- and there's her with all her snappish distrust and -- ah. excuse me. ^_^
He loses her that time, like the lightning-bug that flashes five feet away just when you jump for it in the dark and think that maybe you've got your hands around it. Next time her finds her himself, watching the glow and following it.
"Oh, it's you again."
"Me again."
She grins her sharp little pomegranate grin, and he thinks maybe he's chasing lightning instead of a lightning-bug.
Er, yes--? Just like Zara and Lise and Snowy, give me a keyword and a keyword and a keyword and eventually you'll have the whole fic written all in drabbles.
you're entirely too giving, as evidenced by the package covered in happy birthday stamps i'm waiting 'til monday to open. *guiltguiltguilt* ... but the word is 'poem.'
^_________________^ Vicki did that! She's our postlady. She said since it was a birthday gift, she'd put happy birthday stamps all over. You can open it whenever you'd like, though, of course. I mean, it's your birthday gift.
She glowers. There's a stupid boy following her around, and she hates when that happens. She's not pretty (she's ugly), so when they do that, they're either hoping she's a whore or they're wanting to bother her all over the place. Either way, she hates them.
She doesn't believe in love. She doesn't believe in flowers, poems, or kisses. She believes in sharp things that she can touch.
Nobody ever gives her those things because she likes them, so she never lets anyone know.
oh -- well. well, it's wonderful. but i won't open it 'til monday -- *guilt*
^__^ i love zara. and i was about to babble to you about how i like the causative relationship implied by the word 'so,' but excuse while i think of a less pedantic way to say that (i like that she never lets anyone know she likes them because she likes them, because of something fierce and secretive, that i think guil has, too). -- and oh -- *grabs the nearest thing with writing on it, and steals the first word* 'fit'?
Well, of course. ^__^ I am so glad about the birthday stamps, though -- and I meant to say, I got your package to-day, too, and--thank you so much. ♥ They're such beautiful notecards, and I shall hang the butterfly up in my window.
...(Zara likes keeping secrets)...
She had a fit when she realised he wasn't going away. She went out every day usually to get something to eat, and to see whether she could warm her cold skin in the sun at least a little, but when she realised she started holing herself up in her little room and stitching all through the day.
But she couldn't stay in for-ever, and when she finally came out again, and there he way, she gave up defiantly. She didn't care. She would go where-ever she pleased and ignore him.
Of course, then, she realised that she was looking for him, and somewhere inside she felt cheated when he didn't follow her about.
oh, good. :3 :D :D i thought -- i hoped -- i -- well. good. :D
... (oh, i thought so ... it's the things that you like that you want to keep secret, want to keep safe, but it makes you bitter and disagreeable, because that's the only thing everyone knows ... i suppose.) ...
eee. :3 :D paranoid, aren't we, zara ... *looks at the cover of a magazine* 'ever'?
(--something like that, perhaps, and she never really learnt properly to find anything in herself to like, so it's easier to be bitter and disagreeable and keep secrets--)
He has a merciless conversation with himself in which he states quite plainly that he's not going to follow the stupid girl around, he does not care for her at all, this ridiculous behaviour reminds him of Rosencrantz, and he's not going to put up with this from himself.
It's a complete accident, in fact, that he nearly knocks into her coming out of a shop.
"Are you ever going to leave me alone?" she demands, and he feels a bit of relief somewhere she can't see. When there are questions, everything is right.
"Why not?" he says, in a tone which is, for him, almost cheerful.
XD oh, guil. you're terrific when you scold yourself. and deep down you're just as much of a dork as rosencrantz, so admit it all ready -- *wonders if she should still be pestering you with keywords -- but if you want one, she's doing her physics homework, and the last word she read was 'polarity'*
Of course I had to...! Thank-you notes are the most important part. *adores--*
(--so can I, a little.)
"Should I?"
"Do you want to get bit?"
"Are you planning to bite me?"
"Are you trying to find out?"
They don't share a polarity between them, except maybe that she's a her and he's himself. Otherwise, they circle one another, they ask questions, they guard themselves so well they don't know what they're thinking, and their eyes are the same; grey eyes that don't trust and can't look away.
He reminds her of people she used to know and never liked. Nothing about him is at all like anyone she's ever belonged to (she's never belonged to anyone). Zara lets him follow her now, because she's sinking into the backforthbackforth of questions and more questions, all the way to the bakery and back, until she likes it. He never tried to pull her tangled hair or pull her sharp body into an alleyway.
The one time she doesn't answer a question with a question, and he snaps 'statement', it's as though she's finally been reined in. She's always learnt sharp lessons better than gentle ones, and she never makes that mistake again.
eee. they're so -- sweetly dysfunctional, or dysfunctionally sweet -- i love the questions, and the way they fit, even with all the spikes in-between. thank you so much. ^_^
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(no subject)
Date: 2006-03-29 04:19 am (UTC)... oh, wait.
zara/guildenstern, pomengranate.
(no subject)
Date: 2006-03-30 03:29 am (UTC)...
"Where are you going?"
"Why do you care?"
"What makes you think I care?"
"D'you ask girls where they're going for no reason, then?"
"Do I look like I make a hobby of it?"
"Then why the hell'd you ask?"
"Can't you tell me that?"
She bares her teeth at him, tiny little perfect teeth like white pomegranate seeds. If he believed in God, he'd pray she asked another question. Since he doesn't know what he believes in, he wishes he had a coin to flip that would decide the matter.
(no subject)
Date: 2006-03-30 03:39 am (UTC)i'm sorry, i'm going to be incoherent for a moment. (i like it, i like them, i -- eeeeee.)
(no subject)
Date: 2006-03-30 07:15 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-03-31 01:42 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-03-31 02:32 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-03-31 02:49 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-03-31 03:22 am (UTC)"Oh, it's you again."
"Me again."
She grins her sharp little pomegranate grin, and he thinks maybe he's chasing lightning instead of a lightning-bug.
(no subject)
Date: 2006-03-31 03:33 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-03-31 03:46 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-03-31 08:20 am (UTC)-- -- -- sorry. ^^;
(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-01 04:27 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-01 09:36 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-02 01:50 am (UTC)She glowers. There's a stupid boy following her around, and she hates when that happens. She's not pretty (she's ugly), so when they do that, they're either hoping she's a whore or they're wanting to bother her all over the place. Either way, she hates them.
She doesn't believe in love. She doesn't believe in flowers, poems, or kisses. She believes in sharp things that she can touch.
Nobody ever gives her those things because she likes them, so she never lets anyone know.
(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-02 03:33 am (UTC)^__^ i love zara. and i was about to babble to you about how i like the causative relationship implied by the word 'so,' but excuse while i think of a less pedantic way to say that (i like that she never lets anyone know she likes them because she likes them, because of something fierce and secretive, that i think guil has, too). -- and oh -- *grabs the nearest thing with writing on it, and steals the first word* 'fit'?
(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-02 04:21 am (UTC)...(Zara likes keeping secrets)...
She had a fit when she realised he wasn't going away. She went out every day usually to get something to eat, and to see whether she could warm her cold skin in the sun at least a little, but when she realised she started holing herself up in her little room and stitching all through the day.
But she couldn't stay in for-ever, and when she finally came out again, and there he way, she gave up defiantly. She didn't care. She would go where-ever she pleased and ignore him.
Of course, then, she realised that she was looking for him, and somewhere inside she felt cheated when he didn't follow her about.
(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-02 04:48 am (UTC)... (oh, i thought so ... it's the things that you like that you want to keep secret, want to keep safe, but it makes you bitter and disagreeable, because that's the only thing everyone knows ... i suppose.) ...
eee. :3 :D paranoid, aren't we, zara ... *looks at the cover of a magazine* 'ever'?
(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-03 01:40 am (UTC)(--something like that, perhaps, and she never really learnt properly to find anything in herself to like, so it's easier to be bitter and disagreeable and keep secrets--)
He has a merciless conversation with himself in which he states quite plainly that he's not going to follow the stupid girl around, he does not care for her at all, this ridiculous behaviour reminds him of Rosencrantz, and he's not going to put up with this from himself.
It's a complete accident, in fact, that he nearly knocks into her coming out of a shop.
"Are you ever going to leave me alone?" she demands, and he feels a bit of relief somewhere she can't see. When there are questions, everything is right.
"Why not?" he says, in a tone which is, for him, almost cheerful.
(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-03 02:07 am (UTC)(ah -- i think i can understand that.)
XD oh, guil. you're terrific when you scold yourself. and deep down you're just as much of a dork as rosencrantz, so admit it all ready -- *wonders if she should still be pestering you with keywords -- but if you want one, she's doing her physics homework, and the last word she read was 'polarity'*
(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-03 02:49 am (UTC)(--so can I, a little.)
"Should I?"
"Do you want to get bit?"
"Are you planning to bite me?"
"Are you trying to find out?"
They don't share a polarity between them, except maybe that she's a her and he's himself. Otherwise, they circle one another, they ask questions, they guard themselves so well they don't know what they're thinking, and their eyes are the same; grey eyes that don't trust and can't look away.
(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-03 03:39 am (UTC)ooh. that's so wonderfulstrikingandtrue. please -- 'statement'?
(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-04 02:24 am (UTC)^__^
He reminds her of people she used to know and never liked. Nothing about him is at all like anyone she's ever belonged to (she's never belonged to anyone). Zara lets him follow her now, because she's sinking into the backforthbackforth of questions and more questions, all the way to the bakery and back, until she likes it. He never tried to pull her tangled hair or pull her sharp body into an alleyway.
The one time she doesn't answer a question with a question, and he snaps 'statement', it's as though she's finally been reined in. She's always learnt sharp lessons better than gentle ones, and she never makes that mistake again.
(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-05 03:52 am (UTC)eee. they're so -- sweetly dysfunctional, or dysfunctionally sweet -- i love the questions, and the way they fit, even with all the spikes in-between. thank you so much. ^_^
(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-06 01:53 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-09 01:11 am (UTC)(no subject)
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