The Picture is Drawn; Two Stages: Rain and Light
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You both stare at one another. He’s the one who stole her first kiss from you. Why would you want to speak to him anyway. So you both stare at each other. There is now a greeting from him, take heed.
“Hey.”
You retain your frown.
“Hello.”
You both stare at each other…again. Without words, speechless, yet not surprised if any. The apprentices stare at the both of you in dire interest. Then your best fool makes an approach towards your stare down.
“Guys, guys! Were all friends here. Especially since the madam is about to come in here, so I highly suggest you two stop your glarin’ or the madam is gonna start worrying. I’m sure the both of you don’t want any of that.”
The both of you look up at the doorway. As if on cue, the hinges turn and two servants open the door for the madam. The two brothers opened it for her of course. Madda and Dorra, Red and Blue. Their style of clothing offends you to no extreme. Must they wear such…gaudy wear? You try to ignore their pathetic choices of suits, and bow to the madam as she walks by. She smiles and waves back.
…Not again. She shouldn’t show favoritism to different servants. Oh. She’s heading once again over to the guest. What was that bloody name again? You forget. But it’s too soon to care, yet you want to impress your mistress. What was that name? You can’t remember. Rah…oh! You remember his name. Finally. It took quite a while to remember since you didn’t want to remember someone who stole your mistress from you, so you didn’t try to honor him by recall his name. But now it doesn’t matter. Walk over to them and bow in a greeting and acknowledge both of them. You regard your mistress, but lightly glare if any of it can be seen at the guest. But…it seems our guest has a keen eye.
“Is there something wrong, Atticus?”
You cringe when he, says your name. The feeling returns and your aura expands about your entire being and turns the room black. Scythes appear and swoop down from the frames of decor on the walls and almost cleave the guest in two, until you are brought back to reality when Des grabs your shoulder. He chuckles and starts conversation in your place. You stand there in rage at the guest but Des tightens his grip and you try to remain calm for him at least.
The conversation grasps tightly onto the calm manner of the atmosphere. Without ill mannered struggle, it preserves its peace. You stare into the light glaring from outside of one of the windows and notice someone outside. It’s the Old Master…you leave the group devoid of words, and head out to speak with him.
The light of the peace and tranquil sun livens the flowerbeds and ponds. The Old Master sits on a nearby redwood bench. He stares into his book. His gun lay at his side. With no warning he addresses you immediately.
“Atticus.”
You stiffen up. Then calmly approach.
“How long has it been?”
You ponder and think. Then you recall…a darker time. A helping hand. The tears of heaven, and a blissful haven.
“Seven years, sir.”
The Old Master chuckles and looks up at the flowerbeds.
“Ah…seven long years…”
What a nice morning. What a hoax you’ve played. Though this farce has turned sweet and you do not wish or want anything to be away from it all. Though you wish there are times and memories you could do without, they stay with you and shape who you are now, and who you’ll become in the near future. So you decide to live with them for now, for they are experience and you could not do without them. As much as you hate them…
“Yes, sir. Seven long years.”
Empathies on “long”. You swear that these years were the longest you’ve lived in your life ever. All the other years with filled with ignorance and arrogance. Years you could have spent working hard and dutiful on something worthwhile. But you wasted them on crime and negligence. Everything was about to end for you, everything, when a small angel…saved you.
“Atticus?”
Oh…you turn to see the madam. She followed you. The guest is nowhere to be seen. Her eyes show worry and care for your well being. When did that look return to her gaze upon your soul? It never left. Jealously is a powerful thing that can blind the strong and make them weak and vulnerable. You witnessed this first-hand, and you can’t forgive yourself for it. So you’ll find the guest and make amends. Not before your dismissed of course though.
“I am fine, m’lady.”
She smiles and The Old Master chuckles at your statement. Truths, not if any lie may you curse those heathens who do. But he dismisses you and smile as you walk by the madam and return to the kitchen. The guest is still in here…what a pleasant surprise that this is. You walk over and pat his shoulder. He looks over and blinks at you in curiosity.
“Hey.”
He is silent for a short while.
“…Hey. What changed your day?”
“An angel.”
He looks surprised. A common love? A common goal, without misguidance the both of you. You walk about him and face him and hold out a hand. The guest looks at your hand and doesn’t react for a moment then connects with his own.
“M’names Atticus.”
The guest smirks.
“Mine’s Noir.”
That name…that’s right. You remember it fully now. Noir Ampora. That was his name. Yours? What may be your name? Atticus Hazh.
“Atticus Hazh.”
“Noir Ampora.”
Des chuckles and walks over.
“That’s good to know. Des Vinian. That’s my name. I hope we can be great friends Noir. Atticus may be a scrooge sometimes but I’m sure you can learn to live with him. Besides in this manor…were all on the same side. So might as well commune appropriately. Don’t you agree?”
You hit him upside the head. Then you turn to the guest.
“The Picture is drawn; it is nice to meet you Noir.”
You both stare at one another. He’s the one who stole her first kiss from you. Why would you want to speak to him anyway. So you both stare at each other. There is now a greeting from him, take heed.
“Hey.”
You retain your frown.
“Hello.”
You both stare at each other…again. Without words, speechless, yet not surprised if any. The apprentices stare at the both of you in dire interest. Then your best fool makes an approach towards your stare down.
“Guys, guys! Were all friends here. Especially since the madam is about to come in here, so I highly suggest you two stop your glarin’ or the madam is gonna start worrying. I’m sure the both of you don’t want any of that.”
The both of you look up at the doorway. As if on cue, the hinges turn and two servants open the door for the madam. The two brothers opened it for her of course. Madda and Dorra, Red and Blue. Their style of clothing offends you to no extreme. Must they wear such…gaudy wear? You try to ignore their pathetic choices of suits, and bow to the madam as she walks by. She smiles and waves back.
…Not again. She shouldn’t show favoritism to different servants. Oh. She’s heading once again over to the guest. What was that bloody name again? You forget. But it’s too soon to care, yet you want to impress your mistress. What was that name? You can’t remember. Rah…oh! You remember his name. Finally. It took quite a while to remember since you didn’t want to remember someone who stole your mistress from you, so you didn’t try to honor him by recall his name. But now it doesn’t matter. Walk over to them and bow in a greeting and acknowledge both of them. You regard your mistress, but lightly glare if any of it can be seen at the guest. But…it seems our guest has a keen eye.
“Is there something wrong, Atticus?”
You cringe when he, says your name. The feeling returns and your aura expands about your entire being and turns the room black. Scythes appear and swoop down from the frames of decor on the walls and almost cleave the guest in two, until you are brought back to reality when Des grabs your shoulder. He chuckles and starts conversation in your place. You stand there in rage at the guest but Des tightens his grip and you try to remain calm for him at least.
The conversation grasps tightly onto the calm manner of the atmosphere. Without ill mannered struggle, it preserves its peace. You stare into the light glaring from outside of one of the windows and notice someone outside. It’s the Old Master…you leave the group devoid of words, and head out to speak with him.
The light of the peace and tranquil sun livens the flowerbeds and ponds. The Old Master sits on a nearby redwood bench. He stares into his book. His gun lay at his side. With no warning he addresses you immediately.
“Atticus.”
You stiffen up. Then calmly approach.
“How long has it been?”
You ponder and think. Then you recall…a darker time. A helping hand. The tears of heaven, and a blissful haven.
“Seven years, sir.”
The Old Master chuckles and looks up at the flowerbeds.
“Ah…seven long years…”
What a nice morning. What a hoax you’ve played. Though this farce has turned sweet and you do not wish or want anything to be away from it all. Though you wish there are times and memories you could do without, they stay with you and shape who you are now, and who you’ll become in the near future. So you decide to live with them for now, for they are experience and you could not do without them. As much as you hate them…
“Yes, sir. Seven long years.”
Empathies on “long”. You swear that these years were the longest you’ve lived in your life ever. All the other years with filled with ignorance and arrogance. Years you could have spent working hard and dutiful on something worthwhile. But you wasted them on crime and negligence. Everything was about to end for you, everything, when a small angel…saved you.
“Atticus?”
Oh…you turn to see the madam. She followed you. The guest is nowhere to be seen. Her eyes show worry and care for your well being. When did that look return to her gaze upon your soul? It never left. Jealously is a powerful thing that can blind the strong and make them weak and vulnerable. You witnessed this first-hand, and you can’t forgive yourself for it. So you’ll find the guest and make amends. Not before your dismissed of course though.
“I am fine, m’lady.”
She smiles and The Old Master chuckles at your statement. Truths, not if any lie may you curse those heathens who do. But he dismisses you and smile as you walk by the madam and return to the kitchen. The guest is still in here…what a pleasant surprise that this is. You walk over and pat his shoulder. He looks over and blinks at you in curiosity.
“Hey.”
He is silent for a short while.
“…Hey. What changed your day?”
“An angel.”
He looks surprised. A common love? A common goal, without misguidance the both of you. You walk about him and face him and hold out a hand. The guest looks at your hand and doesn’t react for a moment then connects with his own.
“M’names Atticus.”
The guest smirks.
“Mine’s Noir.”
That name…that’s right. You remember it fully now. Noir Ampora. That was his name. Yours? What may be your name? Atticus Hazh.
“Atticus Hazh.”
“Noir Ampora.”
Des chuckles and walks over.
“That’s good to know. Des Vinian. That’s my name. I hope we can be great friends Noir. Atticus may be a scrooge sometimes but I’m sure you can learn to live with him. Besides in this manor…were all on the same side. So might as well commune appropriately. Don’t you agree?”
You hit him upside the head. Then you turn to the guest.
“The Picture is drawn; it is nice to meet you Noir.”