Writerverse: Mini Table of DOOM! (A Screw Loose)
More The Church and Its Orbs possibly-canon stuff. I hope you enjoy!
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“Why are we watching shirtless guys jog?” I raise an eyebrow at Kai and Wren because this is just silly.
“It’s fun,” Kai says, grinning.
Wren nods to show her agreement, and I just don’t get it. I need their help, but their idea of a fun leisure activity baffles me. This activity feels more than a bit deranged.
“Fun? They’re jogging -- it’s not like they’re doing anything actually interesting. Maybe if they were playing a sport that involved...doing things,” I mutter.
We’re sitting on the bleachers surrounding an athletic field in the local park. A reddish-brown track surrounds a green field sprayed with pale blue lines to mark it as a playing field. Trees with narrow, pointed leaves edge the boundaries of this area of the park. Men and boys come here to practice various sports, but the current athletes have decided on endless circles. Part of me wonders what would happen if women decided to join them, only that would never happen in Tevaren. Women, for one, have to follow stricter modesty rules, and they’re not encouraged to be athletic in public. The law forbids mixed-gender groups of unmarried adults to spend time together without an approved chaperone, anyway.
“I think the jogging’s interesting,” Kai says, his eyes sparkling. He pays an awful lot of attention to the guys.
“They’re going in endless circles, and they look...sweaty. I bet they smell awful,” I say, wrinkling my nose.
“Of course they’re sweating. They’re exercising,” Wren mutters. She pays as much attention to the guys as Kai does. She kissed Kai on the cheek after he gave her his Sweetheart Flower, but she doesn’t look at him like that. Thinking about Wren kissing Kai -- even if it was just on the cheek -- starts to put me in a sour mood, so I look at the joggers, trying to figure out what’s so interesting about them. Is it about physical attraction with Wren? Is she no longer interested in Kai if she’s looking at joggers? That thought gets rid of a bit of my sour mood.
Good Church girls shouldn’t do -- or think -- anything impure before they’re married, but we’re supposed to want to marry. I guess it would be better to marry a guy I found attractive, only I haven’t seen any recently that I found attractive enough to want to marry. Is Wren looking at the guys because she’s trying to figure out which one she might want to marry? Now, I wonder if looking at guys like this is moral -- it feels impure to me. It also just baffles me because I can’t see any meaningful difference between the guys in terms of one I would like to marry. Maybe some are more attractive than others, but they all seem...neutral, romantically.
“Wren, are you looking at the joggers because you think they’re attractive?” I ask.
“Well, yeah,” she says, glancing at me. “You’re not?”
“Um, no,” I say, feeling my face flush.
“Really?” Kai mutters, leaning over to look at me as well.
I cross my arms over my chest. “The Church doesn’t exactly encourage girls to think lustful thoughts about half-naked men,” I mutter.
They don’t...though, when I think about it, some people will wrongly suspect you of being a sed if you don’t show enough interest in the opposite gender. I have plenty of interest in guys, I just prefer to think about them in a purer context than inadequately dressed joggers.
Wren raises an eyebrow. “I guess not, but these joggers are cute, and it’s not like I’m going down there and tackling one of them,” she says. “The Church wouldn’t like that, now would it?”
“I suppose they’re cute,” I say. Right now, Wren reminds me of Lila and her chatter about how “hot” Oliver is. She acted like I had something wrong with me when I didn’t want to dress up and go on a double date with him and a friend. The date involved clothes that skirted the line of proper Churchly modesty because “guys like things like that.” I prefer wearing pants, anyway.
“You don’t sound so sure,” Kai says, frowning in thought.
“Joggers aren’t my type,” I mutter.
“So what is your type?” Wren smirks.
“Something...else,” I say. I’m not really one to pick a “type,” when I think about it.
They’re both still looking at me when I realize something -- if Wren wants to be here because she thinks the joggers are cute, why does Kai think they’re so interesting? He isn’t…?
I stare at Kai, hoping to deflect their attention away from me. “If Wren’s staring at the joggers because she thinks they’re cute, why are you staring at them as much as she is?”
“You noticed, huh?” he murmurs, pulling on the end of his rainbow scarf. It’s hot enough the joggers go shirtless, but he still has that scarf. At least it appears to be lightweight? It’s made of wide horizontal stripes in all the colors of the rainbow, except purple -- while rainbows technically contain the purple known as “violet,”, nobody but the priests wear purple in Tevaren.
“I’m not entirely dense,” I say.
Before Kai can answer my question, one of the joggers stops his endless circling of the track and heads towards us. I shudder -- I think he’s staring at me. The jogger climbs the first couple bleachers and smiles. He’s definitely looking at me.
“Lovely day for a jog, isn’t it?” he murmurs.
“I wouldn’t know. I’m not jogging,” I say.
I think I hear Wren snort behind me. The jogger laughs as well -- much too loudly, like he’s a bad actor. I glare at him -- he doesn’t notice, because he keeps smiling at me. That smiles makes me feel like I’m covered in slime. The jogger extends a hand for me to shake. It’s sweaty.
“You don’t want to touch me, I -- have a cold. It’s highly contagious, and I’ve already contaminated my friends,” I mutter. I don’t shake the guy’s hand.
“You sure look good for someone who’s sick,” he says, grinning. He must be covered in layers of invisible slime. “You’re Gemma, right? I go to your school. My name’s Marty. I have my Testing Ceremony in three weeks, but, for now, maybe we can hang out?”
Is this guy an actual person or a manifestation of the very idea of slime? Does the Church actually expect me to marry someone like this? Surely he’s breaking the rules of proper behavior, and he seems to feel it’s his right.
“Sorry,” Wren says. “But we’ve all gotta leave soon. I have to...prepare a custom prayer I promised my mom.”
I cover my mouth with my hand to hide a giggle, as Wren’s the last person who would “prepare a custom prayer” for her mother. Or anyone else.
Marty flashes me another grin. “Before you go, let’s make time to have a date?”
“Sorry, I’m allergic to that particular fruit,” I say before I can stop myself. I’m not being a proper and graceful Church girl at all. Church girls turn down dates with polite finesse, not lies and and absurd statements.
It doesn’t seem to bother Marty, though. He just laughs that fake laugh again. “You know what I mean,” he says.
“I’m not interested,” I mutter, barely restraining myself from telling him he’s a walking tower of slime. To punctuate my point, I let myself scowl at him and stand up. I’m a couple steps above him on the bleachers, and taller than he is, anyway.
Marty scowls right back at me. “How come you’re not interested? What, are you a sed or something?”
“Excuse me?” I breathe. I can’t believe what he just accused me of being.
I feel Wren and Kai tense behind me. My jaw clenches, and my whole body trembles. If such an accusation gets enough traction, it can ruin a person’s reputation. The joggers have all stopped to watch.
“If you want to prove you’re not a sed, come on a date with me,” Marty says, that stupid grin back on his face.
“I’ll prove it without involving myself with walking slime like you,” I say. Before I know it, I shove Marty in the chest. He loses his balance and tumbles backwards down the bleachers. Marty falls in slow motion. This is a movie -- it can’t be real.
What in the name of darkest oblivion did I just do?
When Marty hits the ground, he twitches but doesn’t get up. My heart pounds as I watch him.
“You’re remarkably desperate, if you think accusing a girl of being a sed will somehow get you a date with her. How dare you try to corrupt my Churchly purity by approaching me like that. You’re almost an adult,” I shout down at him.
“We should get out of here,” Wren mutters.
I agree. In front of all the jogger witnesses, we walk down the bleachers and leave the park at a near-run.
“Interesting little speech,” Kai says once we’re out of earshot. “Hopefully that Marty’s buddies will believe you.”
“You know, if you don’t want people to think you’re ‘deviant,’ you shouldn’t respond to accusations with physical force,” Wren says.
My face flushes, and my heart still pounds in my chest. She’s right -- doing that will not make me look good. I don’t know how much my spontaneous little speech will do for damage control.
“Don’t worry about it,” Kai says, his eyes glinting mischievously. “I know how to keep Marty in line. He’ll take the blame for this, if anyone raises a fuss.”
“How?” I breathe.
“Just leave it to me,” he says, giving me a too-searching look, as if I’m some sort of puzzle he wants to figure out.
I take a deep breath, trying to get my heart to still. It won’t cooperate. I shudder as I think of Marty -- how can a guy be so off-putting? And why did I react so violently to his attempt to pick me up?
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“Why are we watching shirtless guys jog?” I raise an eyebrow at Kai and Wren because this is just silly.
“It’s fun,” Kai says, grinning.
Wren nods to show her agreement, and I just don’t get it. I need their help, but their idea of a fun leisure activity baffles me. This activity feels more than a bit deranged.
“Fun? They’re jogging -- it’s not like they’re doing anything actually interesting. Maybe if they were playing a sport that involved...doing things,” I mutter.
We’re sitting on the bleachers surrounding an athletic field in the local park. A reddish-brown track surrounds a green field sprayed with pale blue lines to mark it as a playing field. Trees with narrow, pointed leaves edge the boundaries of this area of the park. Men and boys come here to practice various sports, but the current athletes have decided on endless circles. Part of me wonders what would happen if women decided to join them, only that would never happen in Tevaren. Women, for one, have to follow stricter modesty rules, and they’re not encouraged to be athletic in public. The law forbids mixed-gender groups of unmarried adults to spend time together without an approved chaperone, anyway.
“I think the jogging’s interesting,” Kai says, his eyes sparkling. He pays an awful lot of attention to the guys.
“They’re going in endless circles, and they look...sweaty. I bet they smell awful,” I say, wrinkling my nose.
“Of course they’re sweating. They’re exercising,” Wren mutters. She pays as much attention to the guys as Kai does. She kissed Kai on the cheek after he gave her his Sweetheart Flower, but she doesn’t look at him like that. Thinking about Wren kissing Kai -- even if it was just on the cheek -- starts to put me in a sour mood, so I look at the joggers, trying to figure out what’s so interesting about them. Is it about physical attraction with Wren? Is she no longer interested in Kai if she’s looking at joggers? That thought gets rid of a bit of my sour mood.
Good Church girls shouldn’t do -- or think -- anything impure before they’re married, but we’re supposed to want to marry. I guess it would be better to marry a guy I found attractive, only I haven’t seen any recently that I found attractive enough to want to marry. Is Wren looking at the guys because she’s trying to figure out which one she might want to marry? Now, I wonder if looking at guys like this is moral -- it feels impure to me. It also just baffles me because I can’t see any meaningful difference between the guys in terms of one I would like to marry. Maybe some are more attractive than others, but they all seem...neutral, romantically.
“Wren, are you looking at the joggers because you think they’re attractive?” I ask.
“Well, yeah,” she says, glancing at me. “You’re not?”
“Um, no,” I say, feeling my face flush.
“Really?” Kai mutters, leaning over to look at me as well.
I cross my arms over my chest. “The Church doesn’t exactly encourage girls to think lustful thoughts about half-naked men,” I mutter.
They don’t...though, when I think about it, some people will wrongly suspect you of being a sed if you don’t show enough interest in the opposite gender. I have plenty of interest in guys, I just prefer to think about them in a purer context than inadequately dressed joggers.
Wren raises an eyebrow. “I guess not, but these joggers are cute, and it’s not like I’m going down there and tackling one of them,” she says. “The Church wouldn’t like that, now would it?”
“I suppose they’re cute,” I say. Right now, Wren reminds me of Lila and her chatter about how “hot” Oliver is. She acted like I had something wrong with me when I didn’t want to dress up and go on a double date with him and a friend. The date involved clothes that skirted the line of proper Churchly modesty because “guys like things like that.” I prefer wearing pants, anyway.
“You don’t sound so sure,” Kai says, frowning in thought.
“Joggers aren’t my type,” I mutter.
“So what is your type?” Wren smirks.
“Something...else,” I say. I’m not really one to pick a “type,” when I think about it.
They’re both still looking at me when I realize something -- if Wren wants to be here because she thinks the joggers are cute, why does Kai think they’re so interesting? He isn’t…?
I stare at Kai, hoping to deflect their attention away from me. “If Wren’s staring at the joggers because she thinks they’re cute, why are you staring at them as much as she is?”
“You noticed, huh?” he murmurs, pulling on the end of his rainbow scarf. It’s hot enough the joggers go shirtless, but he still has that scarf. At least it appears to be lightweight? It’s made of wide horizontal stripes in all the colors of the rainbow, except purple -- while rainbows technically contain the purple known as “violet,”, nobody but the priests wear purple in Tevaren.
“I’m not entirely dense,” I say.
Before Kai can answer my question, one of the joggers stops his endless circling of the track and heads towards us. I shudder -- I think he’s staring at me. The jogger climbs the first couple bleachers and smiles. He’s definitely looking at me.
“Lovely day for a jog, isn’t it?” he murmurs.
“I wouldn’t know. I’m not jogging,” I say.
I think I hear Wren snort behind me. The jogger laughs as well -- much too loudly, like he’s a bad actor. I glare at him -- he doesn’t notice, because he keeps smiling at me. That smiles makes me feel like I’m covered in slime. The jogger extends a hand for me to shake. It’s sweaty.
“You don’t want to touch me, I -- have a cold. It’s highly contagious, and I’ve already contaminated my friends,” I mutter. I don’t shake the guy’s hand.
“You sure look good for someone who’s sick,” he says, grinning. He must be covered in layers of invisible slime. “You’re Gemma, right? I go to your school. My name’s Marty. I have my Testing Ceremony in three weeks, but, for now, maybe we can hang out?”
Is this guy an actual person or a manifestation of the very idea of slime? Does the Church actually expect me to marry someone like this? Surely he’s breaking the rules of proper behavior, and he seems to feel it’s his right.
“Sorry,” Wren says. “But we’ve all gotta leave soon. I have to...prepare a custom prayer I promised my mom.”
I cover my mouth with my hand to hide a giggle, as Wren’s the last person who would “prepare a custom prayer” for her mother. Or anyone else.
Marty flashes me another grin. “Before you go, let’s make time to have a date?”
“Sorry, I’m allergic to that particular fruit,” I say before I can stop myself. I’m not being a proper and graceful Church girl at all. Church girls turn down dates with polite finesse, not lies and and absurd statements.
It doesn’t seem to bother Marty, though. He just laughs that fake laugh again. “You know what I mean,” he says.
“I’m not interested,” I mutter, barely restraining myself from telling him he’s a walking tower of slime. To punctuate my point, I let myself scowl at him and stand up. I’m a couple steps above him on the bleachers, and taller than he is, anyway.
Marty scowls right back at me. “How come you’re not interested? What, are you a sed or something?”
“Excuse me?” I breathe. I can’t believe what he just accused me of being.
I feel Wren and Kai tense behind me. My jaw clenches, and my whole body trembles. If such an accusation gets enough traction, it can ruin a person’s reputation. The joggers have all stopped to watch.
“If you want to prove you’re not a sed, come on a date with me,” Marty says, that stupid grin back on his face.
“I’ll prove it without involving myself with walking slime like you,” I say. Before I know it, I shove Marty in the chest. He loses his balance and tumbles backwards down the bleachers. Marty falls in slow motion. This is a movie -- it can’t be real.
What in the name of darkest oblivion did I just do?
When Marty hits the ground, he twitches but doesn’t get up. My heart pounds as I watch him.
“You’re remarkably desperate, if you think accusing a girl of being a sed will somehow get you a date with her. How dare you try to corrupt my Churchly purity by approaching me like that. You’re almost an adult,” I shout down at him.
“We should get out of here,” Wren mutters.
I agree. In front of all the jogger witnesses, we walk down the bleachers and leave the park at a near-run.
“Interesting little speech,” Kai says once we’re out of earshot. “Hopefully that Marty’s buddies will believe you.”
“You know, if you don’t want people to think you’re ‘deviant,’ you shouldn’t respond to accusations with physical force,” Wren says.
My face flushes, and my heart still pounds in my chest. She’s right -- doing that will not make me look good. I don’t know how much my spontaneous little speech will do for damage control.
“Don’t worry about it,” Kai says, his eyes glinting mischievously. “I know how to keep Marty in line. He’ll take the blame for this, if anyone raises a fuss.”
“How?” I breathe.
“Just leave it to me,” he says, giving me a too-searching look, as if I’m some sort of puzzle he wants to figure out.
I take a deep breath, trying to get my heart to still. It won’t cooperate. I shudder as I think of Marty -- how can a guy be so off-putting? And why did I react so violently to his attempt to pick me up?