Writerverse: Mini Table of DOOM! ("Never say never.")
More The Church and Its Orbs. I'm changing the red orbs to green, for better color contrast with the purple orbs.
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“You should end up a no soul. I think you will,” Ruby mutters. She tosses her head and flips her long brown hair as she approaches me in the living room.
“Unlikely,” I hiss, looking into those smug dark brown eyes. I wanted to watch television in the living room, but if Ruby is going to harass me, I might go back to my room.
“Never say never,” she says. She smirks, so sure of herself, though she has no way of knowing what color orb I’ll get.
Ever since she got her purple orb, her insufferable attitude has only worsened. Our parents are green orbs. We have a couple distant purple orb relatives, but nobody quite expected Ruby’s orb to turn out purple. Except for Ruby -- she had this bizarre confidence that she would be a purple orb because “it is what I deserve.” Ruby truly deserves a kick in the face, if she deserves anything at all. It’s too bad kicking her would be more trouble than it’s worth.
I raise an eyebrow because I don’t exactly know why she’d say that this time. Ruby loves to say all kinds of mean things about me and to me. Most of the time, I try to ignore them -- but I don't always succeed. If I fight back too hard, my parents will accuse me of “antagonizing your dear sister.” Ruby’s about as dear to me as stepping on a rusty nail, but I can’t tell my mom and dad that. I have fought back before, only to be hit with enough punishment that it’s not worth it -- which doesn’t mean I can keep calm.
“I mean, you’re already so defective, aren’t you?” Ruby says. Her eyes glitter. “It would be only proper if you did end up as one.”
“You have a funny idea about what is ‘proper,’ Ruby,” I mutter, narrowing my eyes at her as she stands before me.
“And you have no idea about what’s proper -- since you obviously aren’t,” she says, smiling like a viper.
“Do you have a point, or are you just here to harass me?”
“I wanted to offer some sisterly advice.”
My eyes widen. “Sisterly advice? You haven’t given me any advice, and you’re the farthest thing from sisterly,” I say.
Ruby laughs -- it’s light and tinkling but sounds like ice. “You should be careful,” she murmurs.
“Careful about what? And you should be less vague if you want to help me, not that I think you do,” I say. Being around my sister makes my skin crawl.
“Careful nobody finds out what you are,” she says, smirking.
She might mean her words to sound intimidating, but they don’t scare me so much as annoy me. Sometimes part of her harassment involves this kind of deliberate vagueness -- and it is quite vexing.
“I’m many things -- which one do you mean?” I mutter.
Since she won’t sit down, I stand up to face her. This gives me an advantage because I’m both taller and just bigger than Ruby. She’s five feet eight inches, while I’m five feet ten inches. In addition to that, I’m much heavier -- about 170 pounds -- with more actual muscle. Ruby’s quite slender -- maybe 110 pounds at most -- and not as muscular as I am.
In a physical fight, she can’t match me, but more than the physical matters when it comes to us. Consequences matter -- I could knock Ruby over without much effort, but then I would have to face my parents. Ruby knows this.
“Why don’t you guess?” she says.
“Because I don’t want to,” I mutter, crossing my arms over my chest. I glare at her. “If you want to harass me, you’ll have to explain yourself. This vagueness is just silly.”
Ruby scowls, just for a second. She quickly fixes her face back into that lovely icy smile of hers. “I mean about your parentage,” she says.
I actually let out a small, mirthless laugh. “My parentage must be quite awful, since it’s the same line that produced you,” I say.
Now, I know what Ruby means. She wants to bait me by claiming my father isn’t my biological father after all. I know I’ve already antagonized her too much, but Ruby’s hard to take sometimes. Out-of-wedlock births bring shame on all involved -- almost without fail, the products of such births end up as no souls. According to the Church, how could a child born from such sin ever possess a soul?
Ever since we were little, Ruby’s loved to accuse me of illegitimacy. She does it because I don’t look like the rest of my family. My mom has medium brown eyes, while my dad has dark brown eyes. Ruby has hair and eyes almost exactly like our father, though her face looks like that of our mother -- heart-shaped, with fine features and huge round eyes. They look almost too big for her face, and make her appear more innocent than she is.
My dad’s face is oval, while mine is square. I have eyes narrower than anyone else’s -- my father’s are fairly large and round, too, while mine are more almond-shaped. They look a bit like Wren’s eyes in terms of shape, though Wren’s eyes are much prettier. Truth be told, I’ve noticed so much about my family’s features because of Ruby’s taunting. Everyone else’s hair is stick-straight, while mine is curly. The biggest, most obvious thing, though? My hair’s red -- bright red. It sticks out.
“You know what I’m talking about -- you’re a bastard,” Ruby says, shaking her head.
“And you’re not any nicer,” I mutter.
“That’s not what I meant,” she huffs, managing to look down on me even though I’m taller.
“Oh that?” I feign a sort of innocence. “I don’t think I am.”
Ruby raises an eyebrow and crosses her arms over her chest. “You don’t think so? Why are you so...red, then?” she mutters.
“Because genetics is more complicated than your...delicate mind can comprehend,” I say. I have to suppress a giggle, because Ruby’s mind is anything but delicate.
“I’m smarter than you are,” she hisses.
“My grades are as good as yours. I saw your report card from Third School.”
I allow myself a smirk, because my grades do match hers. We’re both good students. Children have to be, because grades can influence where you go to Third School and, after that, what University you can attend. Also, since I’m likeliest to be a green orb, I need to study to do well in life -- the best positions go to purple orbs, so green orbs need to show off their smarts to achieve even half as much. Even purple orbs sometimes compete among enough other for the very best places, but they’re guaranteed social safety and prestige in a way green orbs are not.
“It doesn’t even matter,” Ruby says, glowering at me. “I’m a purple orb.”
“Fine, you’re a purple orb -- so don’t say you’re smarter than I am when you know our grades are equal and I don’t have teachers kissing up to me because of my orb color,” I mutter, letting my smirk grow wider.
Teachers do go easier on purple orbs, so, really, my grades are better than Ruby’s -- I don’t have her social advantage.
She shrugs. “It doesn’t matter anyway, since you’re likely to end up a no soul,” she says.
Of course she would return to that taunt. Now, I just don’t have the energy for dealing with Ruby in anything close to a civilized manner. If I keep spending time with her, I’ll end up punching her or worse. As my Testing Ceremony gets ever closer, I have to admit the “no soul” taunt rankles more and more -- all Tevarenese children worry about their results, so I don’t need Ruby’s “help.”
“I’m going to head up to my room. Why don’t you...practice feigning innnocence in the mirror or whatever it is your kind likes to do?” I mutter.
I turn away from Ruby and start heading out of the living room.
“You should be nicer,” she calls after me.
“I am -- to people who deserve it,” I say, looking over my shoulder.
Of all the people I know, Ruby definitely doesn’t deserve it. Her barely-tolerable “sisterly teasing” makes me hope I get a purple orb, too, so she’ll have to stop harassing me. That would show her. Even if I don’t get a purple orb, there’s no reason I should end up a “no soul,” as I’m a good Church girl. Ruby might like to tell me “never say never,” but she’s wrong. It’s not up to her, anyway -- it’s up to the Church.
I only hope my soul is worthy.
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“You should end up a no soul. I think you will,” Ruby mutters. She tosses her head and flips her long brown hair as she approaches me in the living room.
“Unlikely,” I hiss, looking into those smug dark brown eyes. I wanted to watch television in the living room, but if Ruby is going to harass me, I might go back to my room.
“Never say never,” she says. She smirks, so sure of herself, though she has no way of knowing what color orb I’ll get.
Ever since she got her purple orb, her insufferable attitude has only worsened. Our parents are green orbs. We have a couple distant purple orb relatives, but nobody quite expected Ruby’s orb to turn out purple. Except for Ruby -- she had this bizarre confidence that she would be a purple orb because “it is what I deserve.” Ruby truly deserves a kick in the face, if she deserves anything at all. It’s too bad kicking her would be more trouble than it’s worth.
I raise an eyebrow because I don’t exactly know why she’d say that this time. Ruby loves to say all kinds of mean things about me and to me. Most of the time, I try to ignore them -- but I don't always succeed. If I fight back too hard, my parents will accuse me of “antagonizing your dear sister.” Ruby’s about as dear to me as stepping on a rusty nail, but I can’t tell my mom and dad that. I have fought back before, only to be hit with enough punishment that it’s not worth it -- which doesn’t mean I can keep calm.
“I mean, you’re already so defective, aren’t you?” Ruby says. Her eyes glitter. “It would be only proper if you did end up as one.”
“You have a funny idea about what is ‘proper,’ Ruby,” I mutter, narrowing my eyes at her as she stands before me.
“And you have no idea about what’s proper -- since you obviously aren’t,” she says, smiling like a viper.
“Do you have a point, or are you just here to harass me?”
“I wanted to offer some sisterly advice.”
My eyes widen. “Sisterly advice? You haven’t given me any advice, and you’re the farthest thing from sisterly,” I say.
Ruby laughs -- it’s light and tinkling but sounds like ice. “You should be careful,” she murmurs.
“Careful about what? And you should be less vague if you want to help me, not that I think you do,” I say. Being around my sister makes my skin crawl.
“Careful nobody finds out what you are,” she says, smirking.
She might mean her words to sound intimidating, but they don’t scare me so much as annoy me. Sometimes part of her harassment involves this kind of deliberate vagueness -- and it is quite vexing.
“I’m many things -- which one do you mean?” I mutter.
Since she won’t sit down, I stand up to face her. This gives me an advantage because I’m both taller and just bigger than Ruby. She’s five feet eight inches, while I’m five feet ten inches. In addition to that, I’m much heavier -- about 170 pounds -- with more actual muscle. Ruby’s quite slender -- maybe 110 pounds at most -- and not as muscular as I am.
In a physical fight, she can’t match me, but more than the physical matters when it comes to us. Consequences matter -- I could knock Ruby over without much effort, but then I would have to face my parents. Ruby knows this.
“Why don’t you guess?” she says.
“Because I don’t want to,” I mutter, crossing my arms over my chest. I glare at her. “If you want to harass me, you’ll have to explain yourself. This vagueness is just silly.”
Ruby scowls, just for a second. She quickly fixes her face back into that lovely icy smile of hers. “I mean about your parentage,” she says.
I actually let out a small, mirthless laugh. “My parentage must be quite awful, since it’s the same line that produced you,” I say.
Now, I know what Ruby means. She wants to bait me by claiming my father isn’t my biological father after all. I know I’ve already antagonized her too much, but Ruby’s hard to take sometimes. Out-of-wedlock births bring shame on all involved -- almost without fail, the products of such births end up as no souls. According to the Church, how could a child born from such sin ever possess a soul?
Ever since we were little, Ruby’s loved to accuse me of illegitimacy. She does it because I don’t look like the rest of my family. My mom has medium brown eyes, while my dad has dark brown eyes. Ruby has hair and eyes almost exactly like our father, though her face looks like that of our mother -- heart-shaped, with fine features and huge round eyes. They look almost too big for her face, and make her appear more innocent than she is.
My dad’s face is oval, while mine is square. I have eyes narrower than anyone else’s -- my father’s are fairly large and round, too, while mine are more almond-shaped. They look a bit like Wren’s eyes in terms of shape, though Wren’s eyes are much prettier. Truth be told, I’ve noticed so much about my family’s features because of Ruby’s taunting. Everyone else’s hair is stick-straight, while mine is curly. The biggest, most obvious thing, though? My hair’s red -- bright red. It sticks out.
“You know what I’m talking about -- you’re a bastard,” Ruby says, shaking her head.
“And you’re not any nicer,” I mutter.
“That’s not what I meant,” she huffs, managing to look down on me even though I’m taller.
“Oh that?” I feign a sort of innocence. “I don’t think I am.”
Ruby raises an eyebrow and crosses her arms over her chest. “You don’t think so? Why are you so...red, then?” she mutters.
“Because genetics is more complicated than your...delicate mind can comprehend,” I say. I have to suppress a giggle, because Ruby’s mind is anything but delicate.
“I’m smarter than you are,” she hisses.
“My grades are as good as yours. I saw your report card from Third School.”
I allow myself a smirk, because my grades do match hers. We’re both good students. Children have to be, because grades can influence where you go to Third School and, after that, what University you can attend. Also, since I’m likeliest to be a green orb, I need to study to do well in life -- the best positions go to purple orbs, so green orbs need to show off their smarts to achieve even half as much. Even purple orbs sometimes compete among enough other for the very best places, but they’re guaranteed social safety and prestige in a way green orbs are not.
“It doesn’t even matter,” Ruby says, glowering at me. “I’m a purple orb.”
“Fine, you’re a purple orb -- so don’t say you’re smarter than I am when you know our grades are equal and I don’t have teachers kissing up to me because of my orb color,” I mutter, letting my smirk grow wider.
Teachers do go easier on purple orbs, so, really, my grades are better than Ruby’s -- I don’t have her social advantage.
She shrugs. “It doesn’t matter anyway, since you’re likely to end up a no soul,” she says.
Of course she would return to that taunt. Now, I just don’t have the energy for dealing with Ruby in anything close to a civilized manner. If I keep spending time with her, I’ll end up punching her or worse. As my Testing Ceremony gets ever closer, I have to admit the “no soul” taunt rankles more and more -- all Tevarenese children worry about their results, so I don’t need Ruby’s “help.”
“I’m going to head up to my room. Why don’t you...practice feigning innnocence in the mirror or whatever it is your kind likes to do?” I mutter.
I turn away from Ruby and start heading out of the living room.
“You should be nicer,” she calls after me.
“I am -- to people who deserve it,” I say, looking over my shoulder.
Of all the people I know, Ruby definitely doesn’t deserve it. Her barely-tolerable “sisterly teasing” makes me hope I get a purple orb, too, so she’ll have to stop harassing me. That would show her. Even if I don’t get a purple orb, there’s no reason I should end up a “no soul,” as I’m a good Church girl. Ruby might like to tell me “never say never,” but she’s wrong. It’s not up to her, anyway -- it’s up to the Church.
I only hope my soul is worthy.