The Street Between the Rocky Bits and the Park, Thursday Evening

[alreadyhollow]

The going was slow when you were a fifteen-foot monstrosity made of fire and molten stone. Or, rather, it felt that way. Every movement was a slow, deliberate one, but the extra height made up for it. One could clear a lot of road in a single step, when one was as tall as some of the buildings in town, after all.

So, what was the fifteen-foot

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The thing they liked the best about ruined streets and empty spaces that hadn't been empty once upon a time was that there was always things to look at and do and explore, amusing themselves in endless games that always went on just a little longer until they got tired of one game and switched to the next.

Allu-Nika's heads turned, red hair bouncing around their shoulders, as footsteps came down the street. They floated over to the nearest (half broken, half blocked) window, and peered out of it, their hands pressed against the grimy stone.

Oh! Oh! It was He-On-Fire! They knew him!

It took both of their hands to muffle their giggling. They knew just what to do, too.

It took no effort, none at all, to ever so caaaarefully toss an invisible trip wire into his path. They were very, very good at doing it so that no one saw. Sometimes they caught him, sometimes they didn't.

They pressed their faces against the boards and waited, shivering with excitement, to see if he would fall.

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It was probably better if he didn't. Who knew what she'd find next to look at when there were more options?

Allu-Nika made a happy, questioning noise at him.

She couldn't talk these days but that didn't mean she couldn't communicate.

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//Hurt,// Jono said, looking up at them and holding up his damaged arm. //It hurt. Lookit me, you've got me re-paving the streets, luv. Bleeding everywhere.//

At least he wasn't liable to run out.

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They floated up to peer at the arm. They reached out to touch the hot bits with one soft and fuzzy hand. It couldn't burn them.

Then they made a burbling noise of incomprehension at him.

Alluka had never been good with hurt people, never fully understanding physical injuries, though she'd been good at emotional ones.

Allu-Nika shared her confusion over the harm a physical injury meant.

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Jono held his arm up patiently, letting her investigate. Even if there was no Alluka left, even if it was all Nanika, or whatever had taken them over... she was still... they were still...

For them, he had boundless patience.

//Hurt,// he said again, quietly. //It's like sorrow, but the tears run red. This hurt me.//

And if he was being entirely honest, there was plenty of sorrow, too.

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That... well. That got another uncomprehending noise out of them.

They patted at the arm again then patted their eyes.

Tears? Huh? What?

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Well... it had been worth the attempt, anyway. Jono shook his head, then lowered his arm again.

//And believe me, I'd have proper tears if only I could.//

It was hard to cry in this state. But then, 'hard to cry' was something Jono had been used to for a while, anyway.

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With the arm gone, they were going to float over to his face and pat at his eye... places...

They got distracted because he didn't really have eyes so much as more fiery spots.

Hm. Still no tears though.

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Still no tears. Those had run dry a long, long time ago.

//No eyes,// he pointed out wryly. //Makes crying hard.//

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They made a disgruntled, sulky sound.

How was he supposed to make tears then?

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There was a lot of effort involved in shrugging, like this. And a lot of grinding sounds. And a few very annoying pebbles in inconvenient places. But here he was. Shrugging.

Hell if he knew, girls. If you figured it out, let him know, would you?

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Well... well, fine!

That was stupid AND boring! And they didn't have to listen to that!

Allu-Nika flailed indignantly at him and then, in a fit of temper, kicked him in the face with one tiny, fuzzy foot.

Take that!

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Jonothon took that, alright. He took it directly to the face, and his head snapped back as though that kick had been delivered by someone roughly twice his own size. He fell backwards this time, barely having a moment to reach for whatever was closest as he fell, and the remains of an old lamppost melted to slag in his hand before he even hit the ground.

This time, he made no effort to stand up again. He just reached to hold his face in his hands, impact fractures oozing magma, welling mainly from the tiny, bullet-like hole that Allu-Nika's foot had left in his face.

He had nowhere important to be. Here and now seemed like a good time to roll over on his side and just silently bleed for a while.

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They giggled again, feeling better, and after dropping another load of pebbles on him and sticking tripwires all around him...

They spun around his head, once, twice, three times, and then wandered off, looking for the next, better, more interesting thing.