99 Luftballons

[weedyshyguy]

Characters: weedyshyguy and YOU.
Setting/Location: The halls of my miiiind The hallway outside his room (N-103)
Date & Time: Day 24, morning
Warnings: Immature humor? Sexual references? Condoms?
Summary: Decorating~

Comments

[cassie_of_troy]

Cassandra's old habit of wandering was back. Some things never changed. Unfortunately, her idle stroll was continually being interrupted by screaming, running, dirty children. Frankly, she didn't know what to make of the whole situation. On the one hand, she was grateful that she was able to retain her dignity and remain of questionably sound mind and body. On the other hand, to return to innocence...that was something. A lot of people blamed their adult behavior on terrible childhood. The fact of the matter was that Cassandra had been blessed with a wonderful childhood.

Her thoughts kept her distracted for awhile before she noticed the hallway, decorated with the unusual...Cassandra didn't even know what they were. They looked like ill-formed cow udders or water skins...only lighter and...well, she didn't know what to make of them. She paused to watch the boy hanging them, fascinated by the way they bobbed in the air under the slightest touch.

"What do you call that?" she asked after a moment.

[weedyshyguy]

Bret jammed the pin in once more, taking a step back to survey his work, then turning to look at the woman who had just spoken like he'd only just realized she'd appeared. "It's supposed to look like a shield," he answered, looking back at the wall. He drew an outline in the air with his finger, settling on the sword. "That's a sword."

He looked back at her again, questioning. "Do you like it?"

[cassie_of_troy]

Well, there was no mistaking that accent. It was oddly appropriate, though. Bret becoming a small child. In a way, he had always been like one. It was that innocence of his, something that Cassandra always admired about him, something that set him apart from Paris, despite the fact that they looked so similar.

She nodded slightly, tilting her head this way and that until, at last, she could see the faint impression of a shield. "Yes," she told him. Cassandra had never been terribly good with children, but she decided she didn't have to significantly change her attitude toward Bret. She hoped the spell, or whatever it was, would be undone soon, but in the meanwhile, she supposed, she could deal with this.

"But a sword and shield won't do you much good without a helmet," she continued in all seriousness. "What happens if someone is standing up on a cliffside, shooting arrows down at your army?"

[weedyshyguy]

Bret hadn't thought that far ahead. Although, really, balloons weren't much of a defense anyway. He looked down at his last one, wondering if it would be wise to wrap it over his head. He decided against it and, instead, shrugged.

This lady was strangely knowledgeable. He looked at her, squinting. "Why do you know about armies? Are you in ANZAC?" She didn't look like a lady soldier. She looked pretty, though.

[cassie_of_troy]

Life with Bret was like a dance. Three steps forward, fifteen back. But no matter. She only wondered if this reversion was permanent or temporary. Given the way things worked around here, she was guessing temporary. Nothing seemed to stay.

"I don't know what ANZAC is," she replied. Probably some sort of word for army where ever it was he came from. "My brothers were soldiers, though. So was my father, when he was younger. And my husband."

[weedyshyguy]

Bret nodded seriously. "I hope they didn't die." He really did.

Walking forward slightly, he mumbled, suddenly shy, "What's your name?" She was so pretty, now that Bret thought about it, that he was having a difficult time meeting her eyes. And talking. And not saying something stupid to make her not like him.

Pretty girls could be especially mean if they didn't like him.

[cassie_of_troy]

"Cassandra," she replied. What was this? The third time she had introduced herself to him? Two times too many for a lifetime. Well, she might as well return the favor. "What shall I call you?" she asked. She couldn't quite bring herself to solicit his name. It wasn't necessarily dishonest, but it didn't feel right.

He was moving closer. She really hoped he wouldn't try to hug her. Children and animals had a way of flocking towards people who didn't like children or animals. Cassandra had experienced both in Rowan. It wasn't that she found either objectionable, but it was so hard to talk to them. To demean them, to censor oneself seemed patronizing. But at the same time, speaking blatantly and honesty to them ran the risk of frightening them. It was enough to make her head spin.

Perhaps it was a good thing she had lost the baby.

[weedyshyguy]

Bret nodded. "Cassie." Because he liked nicknames. Not that he had one. Bretty sounded weird. Maybe Bret was an un-nickname-able name. "I'm Bret."

He wasn't sure why he wanted to be closer to her, now that he was there. Something about her seemed nice. Almost like she was already a friend. Even if she didn't like him, he felt like he could like her.

And since he apparently had annesia (where had those balloons come from anyway?) maybe he did already know her. "Do we know each other? I feel like...dunno." Mumblemumble. "Like you." Mumble. "C'be friends."

[cassie_of_troy]

Cassandra sighed softly, inward. No lying. She had to remember that. No lying. She was better than that. "Yes," she answered carefully. "We do know each other."

That wasn't so hard, was it?

Maybe...

"You call me Cassie sometimes," she continued haltingly. "A lot of people around here do." She couldn't, for the life of her, figure out where it had come from, but she didn't mind.

[weedyshyguy]

Bret nodded sadly, glancing up at her. "I think I have annesia. I don't remember you. I'm sorry." Man, he felt more guilty for this than that time he nicked one of his dad's skeins of yarn.

He looked her over, trying to tell if any of her was familiar, as well as trying not to stare at her boobies for too long. But it didn't help. There was just something keeping him from remembering. "Maybe I have a brain tumor." People were always having annesia and brain tumors in the shows his mum watched in the morning. Seemed like this was probably one of those shows. But with giants and candy.

[cassie_of_troy]

"You don't have a brain tumor," Cassandra told him firmly. "Everyone is forgetting things. But don't worry. Everything will be resolved." She didn't know it for certain, but she felt safe saying it. It would be reassuring. And given the history of events on this caravan, a solution seemed likely. After all, they had stopped being mermaids, eventually.

She frowned slightly. "How do you know about brain tumors? That seems awfully sophisticated for someone your age." Cassandra scarcely knew about them herself. "Or am I mistaken? I apologize. I'm afraid I'm not very good with children."

Should she not have said that?

[weedyshyguy]

Cassie was kind of weird. Not that Bret minded. He knew he was weird too. Even if that was only because everyone told him that.

"TV," Bret explained, "Sometimes Mum keeps me home and we watch her shows. There's lots of brain tumors on there. And annesia. And guys with their shirts off." Pause. "At least I have my shirt on." That was a nice silver lining.

[cassie_of_troy]

"Oh yes," Cassandra said slowly. "I have heard of this 'TV' before. Something of a magical box that shows you actors performing short plays?" Who was it that had explained it all to her? She tried to remember, but her impressive memory was failing her now. Perhaps she too had some amnesia. She wouldn't be surprised. Not right away, anyway.

It was sort of incredible, catching all of Bret's mannerisms in his younger self. She could just see him shining through. The way he held himself, the way he spoke to her, even his intonations, all of them were exactly the same. She could even sense the same discomfort she had sensed in him before, as he tried to negotiate his relationship with her in the hallway that day.

"Jemaine." She said it before she could stop herself. And there was a mixture of tragedy and triumph in it. The tragic was blurting out the name unexpectedly. The triumph was remembering just who it was that had explained the whole TV thing to her.

[weedyshyguy]

Bret squinted, confused. She doesn't know what TV is but she knows who Jermaine Jackson is? That didn't make much sense.

Maybe she only listened to records or something.

Or they really were in olden times.

Aww. Flip. They were pre-Bowie.

"Um. That's sort of what it's like..." Okay, he better just ask. "Why'd you say that?"

[cassie_of_troy]

Cassandra shook her head quickly. "Never mind," she said. "Jemaine was just the name of the person who taught me about TV."

She got the immediate sense that Bret had no shared childhood memories with Jemaine. It was something of a surprise to her, but given the fact that this Bret couldn't seem to comprehend the fact that he was in love with Jemaine, she supposed she should be surprised at nothing. At least, not where those two were concerned.

[weedyshyguy]

"Oh." Bret nodded. "That's a weird name," he added, because it was.

Except, maybe she really liked that Jemaine guy. Or something. And that was mean of him. He'd said God was mean once, after hearing a particularly gory bible story on the TV, and a girl at school had slapped him and said that her heavenly father was not to be taken in vain or something. As he understood it, people got more upset if you said or did something mean to someone they loved than they did if you did it to them.

Usually then they just got sad.

Shifting and fidgeting with his jumper, Bret avoided her eyes and asked, "Was he your boyfriend or something?" Because if she didn't like him he wouldn't have to say 'sorry'.