OOC: Crossoverfic: I don't own emotion, I rent
Crossover: Ender's Game/The Virgin Suicides
Characters: Valentine Wiggin-Therese Lisbon
Prompt: Colourless
Subburbs are all the same. So, why did this one feel so different? Val wandered through the latest of the places she'd ended up in, this seemed the most blank, most cheerless. It was a nice enough place, houses pristinely kept, lawns cheerily green, but there was a lingering sense of loss, of confusion, of lingering unease. Walking into the school, armed with her usual notebook, Val bumped into a tall girl, ensconsed in what, to most people, even in this cheerless place, would seem more like a white potato sack than a dress.
Val smiled, but this figure, this almost-woman just looked blankly at her. "Excuse me, can you tell me how to get to the office?"
The almost-woman shifted a thick biology text in her arms, to point down a hall. Her tone was flat, cheerless, and even a bit dry. She was giving information, responding to a direct request. "Down that hall, to the left."
Val looked at her, peered into her eyes. "Are you alright? You seem as if you could use someone to talk to."
"No. There are things in this world that not even books can answer, or people can understand." She shifted the books again. "You're no different than all the shrinks who have tried to 'help'" She somehow makde that one word carry much more meaning than a dictionary definition might entail.
"That might be true, but there are those who have different experiences, and who perhaps understand better than any clinical analysis."
She shrugs. "That's what they all say." Cutting her off is the harsh tone of the school bell. "I gotta go. Perhaps I'll find you sometime." She shuffled off, leaving Val to wonder at the pain in her eyes and manner. She turned back, outside, instead of going on to the cheerless office. Why must things be so lonely, so dreary in this place? That was something she would never know.
Characters: Valentine Wiggin-Therese Lisbon
Prompt: Colourless
Subburbs are all the same. So, why did this one feel so different? Val wandered through the latest of the places she'd ended up in, this seemed the most blank, most cheerless. It was a nice enough place, houses pristinely kept, lawns cheerily green, but there was a lingering sense of loss, of confusion, of lingering unease. Walking into the school, armed with her usual notebook, Val bumped into a tall girl, ensconsed in what, to most people, even in this cheerless place, would seem more like a white potato sack than a dress.
Val smiled, but this figure, this almost-woman just looked blankly at her. "Excuse me, can you tell me how to get to the office?"
The almost-woman shifted a thick biology text in her arms, to point down a hall. Her tone was flat, cheerless, and even a bit dry. She was giving information, responding to a direct request. "Down that hall, to the left."
Val looked at her, peered into her eyes. "Are you alright? You seem as if you could use someone to talk to."
"No. There are things in this world that not even books can answer, or people can understand." She shifted the books again. "You're no different than all the shrinks who have tried to 'help'" She somehow makde that one word carry much more meaning than a dictionary definition might entail.
"That might be true, but there are those who have different experiences, and who perhaps understand better than any clinical analysis."
She shrugs. "That's what they all say." Cutting her off is the harsh tone of the school bell. "I gotta go. Perhaps I'll find you sometime." She shuffled off, leaving Val to wonder at the pain in her eyes and manner. She turned back, outside, instead of going on to the cheerless office. Why must things be so lonely, so dreary in this place? That was something she would never know.