You didn't happen to see a cat walk through here, did you? I think she knows something about what's going on here but she dashed off halfway through just as I was finally getting somewhere in my questioning!
No cats. [there is a mumble of something here that might just be something along the lines of 'I prefer dog meat', but you're probably just hallucinating that.]
[He had been worried about the droning (What if it was permanent!?), so he'd decided to hang around her house to wait and see if she went back to normal.
Only, it seems he's fallen asleep in the process. On her lawn, of all places.]
[He mumbles some unintelligible gibberish and rolls over. The movement skews his glasses, though, and wakes him up just a bit. It's enough to where sun bothers him, and he can't fall back to sleep.
[In his own house, China spares the phone a brief glare before returning it to its cradle. He's the one who perfected that dismissive trick of cutting others off, dammit, and having the tactic turned against him is doubly irritating. But still, just like all the other times when such a thing has happened, there's a faint shred of pride at how his siblings learn from him.....even if it was better for them to stay ignorant.
Some time later (not too long, but not too short, either) he'll approach the house allotted to Vietnam, dressed in his commie outfit per usual. And with his holstered gun, per usual, although more out of habit this time that he'll admit to himself. China will not speak of her droning. He didn't trust himself to go near her when it happened to begin with, and to have the topic resurface in front of Vietnam would just kindle his rage awake again. (Not towards her, no, or even towards America, as much as he would want to believe that the both of them deserved his wrath, but the town. This accursed and wretched town.)
( ... )
[Vietnam is not in uniform because she doesn't want to dirty it with grime from the motorcycle, but seeing her brother in his own reminds her of her real intention in having called him over, and her dull-eyed look belies her disquietude. All she can think of is how much she would give to not have her wrists bound in this manner- of how she hates that she must grasp for the only thing her hands are free enough to take.
She hits the kickstand loudly and snaps it to the ground before swinging her left leg over to join the other, sitting sideways on the bike to face China. She's not aware that he knows of the droning, so she behaves under the pretense that it never happened at all- and she certainly won't be the one to let him know, or to even ask if he'd heard about it. That is unimportant right now. Related, but unimportant. She looks up into her brother's face and glances away to the sidewalk, her gaze burning into the concrete, and thinks There is no room for compromise.]
[His hands go in his pockets- he couldn't grab for his gun now even if he wanted to. And part of him does want to, for while he trusts his sister enough to come see her like this, alone, he's just as suspicious of her intentions. But the strange, conflicting feelings are nothing new, and in this they are a small mercy; the inevitable silent tug-of-war inside his heart is an old hurt, dulled, a wound that's scabbed over and not opened up.
China shifts his eyes slowly up to Vietnam's own, briefly, before settling his stare instead on the empty space above her shoulder. He's very curious, and very wary. And most of all he's aware - painfully so - of the strange and convoluted relationship that they have, of their history and their today, of everything that the two of them have said and that which they have left unspoken. So he walks on eggshells and he stifles the unborn words that burn in his mouth: what would you say to me, sister?]
[The cool chrome of the bike is calming beneath her fingertips, and she nods vaguely at his words. Of course she knows her way around it. Motorcycles had been infinitely useful during the war- for transport, for escape, for attack. She'd carried her wounded on them. And then there was a sense of freedom to not being confined on all sides by walls- to be able to have the thrill of the wind in your face. It was that that kept her on them even when easier methods were available. Vietnam is a nation of contradictions: she has fought fiercely and bloodily for change, but she finds comfort in the familiar, in tradition, in memory- though she tells herself that she mustn't.
And what could be more familiar than this? She is not prostrated before her brother again, but she may as well be. Even now she could change her mind and send him on his way, none the wiser of the truth, but she cannot. As furiously as she has fought and pushed him away and resisted his help for more than two thousand years- Give me back my people, my
( ... )
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You didn't happen to see a cat walk through here, did you? I think she knows something about what's going on here but she dashed off halfway through just as I was finally getting somewhere in my questioning!
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...Well, it seems she got away from me. But not for long.
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Only, it seems he's fallen asleep in the process. On her lawn, of all places.]
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She goes over to inspect it.]
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...Hmm.
[But should she wake him...! Vietnam stands there pondering over her Southeast Asia neighbor.]
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He stretches, rubbing at his eyes.]
The sun is very bright...
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Some time later (not too long, but not too short, either) he'll approach the house allotted to Vietnam, dressed in his commie outfit per usual. And with his holstered gun, per usual, although more out of habit this time that he'll admit to himself. China will not speak of her droning. He didn't trust himself to go near her when it happened to begin with, and to have the topic resurface in front of Vietnam would just kindle his rage awake again. (Not towards her, no, or even towards America, as much as he would want to believe that the both of them deserved his wrath, but the town. This accursed and wretched town.) ( ... )
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She hits the kickstand loudly and snaps it to the ground before swinging her left leg over to join the other, sitting sideways on the bike to face China. She's not aware that he knows of the droning, so she behaves under the pretense that it never happened at all- and she certainly won't be the one to let him know, or to even ask if he'd heard about it. That is unimportant right now. Related, but unimportant. She looks up into her brother's face and glances away to the sidewalk, her gaze burning into the concrete, and thinks There is no room for compromise.]
It's not much, but it'll do.
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China shifts his eyes slowly up to Vietnam's own, briefly, before settling his stare instead on the empty space above her shoulder. He's very curious, and very wary. And most of all he's aware - painfully so - of the strange and convoluted relationship that they have, of their history and their today, of everything that the two of them have said and that which they have left unspoken. So he walks on eggshells and he stifles the unborn words that burn in his mouth: what would you say to me, sister?]
Seem to know your way around it.
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[The cool chrome of the bike is calming beneath her fingertips, and she nods vaguely at his words. Of course she knows her way around it. Motorcycles had been infinitely useful during the war- for transport, for escape, for attack. She'd carried her wounded on them. And then there was a sense of freedom to not being confined on all sides by walls- to be able to have the thrill of the wind in your face. It was that that kept her on them even when easier methods were available. Vietnam is a nation of contradictions: she has fought fiercely and bloodily for change, but she finds comfort in the familiar, in tradition, in memory- though she tells herself that she mustn't.
And what could be more familiar than this? She is not prostrated before her brother again, but she may as well be. Even now she could change her mind and send him on his way, none the wiser of the truth, but she cannot. As furiously as she has fought and pushed him away and resisted his help for more than two thousand years- Give me back my people, my ( ... )
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We need to talk.
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Do we?
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What has he told you? If you're here to start a fight, I would not recommend it. My intention is not to harm any of his friends.
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Interesting machine.
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