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"Put that thing back where it came from or so help me!"
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Dec 5, 2020 9:20:08 GMT -10
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Post by smartblondie on Sept 8, 2013 3:26:57 GMT -10
Many, many years in the future, the world has been divided. Two halves that are very, very different. The Upperworld and the Underground.
The Upperworld is most aptly described as Utopia. Everything is perfect. No poverty, no crime, no illness that cannot be cured, nothing bad. Medical advances have leaped ahead by miles, and in these days, parents can choose traits and skills before a child is even born. This has eliminated any errors that may happen with birth, along with giving parents their perfect child. Athletic? Beautiful? Clever? It's all easily obtained. With genetic modifications running wild, everyone is beautiful and polite and brilliant in some way, and there are no reasons to not get along up top. Houses are big, jobs are good, schools are superb, and robotics have been implemented to keep things clean and do menial labor.
The citizens of the Upperworld are polite, cleanly, and each person is somewhat similar to the next. They are all clean and well-dressed, with symmetrical features and blinding smiles.
In stark contrast, the Underground is where the other type of people go. Often referred to as scum or criminals, in reality, the Underpeople are natural. Natural births, letting people shape their own skills and talents, and letting real genetics decide what a nose shape or how big a forehead they have. The original Underpeople were cast down in the Split, in which the majority of people decided they wanted to go ahead with the genetic mods and make the world much more technologically hinged. Those opposed were forced to retreat to a place underground, and while they first thought they would die and fade away, their determination started to birth cities. A whole world, hidden under the skin. Not clean. Not perfect. There aren't wars or anything devastating, but crime is rampant underground, and everyone acts as humans act. Arguments. Hatred. Jealously. It's not perfect, but it is very reminiscent of the old world, though they are lacking in a few areas. There are potholes in the cities that open up to the upperworld, to allow air and some sunlight in, but it is forbidden to go up top.
People of the Underground are very candidly human. They aren't perfectly clean and very few look the same, not counting families. They're admittedly a bit grimy, and dressing to impress is the last thing on anyone's mind.
In this age, the two halves are agreed. No one crosses between. Underpeople are killed (excluding a few child exceptions) on sight by the police force of the Upper world, and the underpeople see the uppers as robots and cruel, unnatural creatures.
Skellies:
(smartblondie)
Name: Nona Avery
Age: 17
Gender: Female
Looks: Nona is pure, prim, and proper girl, and her appearance is what one expects to see in a happy, peaceful utopia. Standing at a petite height of about 5'3", she has an innocent and charming appearance. She has a heart-shaped face, with bow shaped pink lips, a thin, straight nose, and wide, inquisitive eyes. Her eyes are pale blue, and are rimmed with dark lashes. Her eyebrows are thin and a few shades darker than her hair, and are tip offs for her opinion or mood. Her skin is smooth and unmarred, with just a few pale freckles on her shoulders and knees from running around in the sun as a child, though her skin currently isn't too tan, as her mother makes her take a great deal of precautions against sunburns and freckling, which is for the best for her delicate complexion, with cheeks that redden easily. Her hair is straight golden blonde, and it falls down to a few inches above her elbows. It is straight usually, but after sleeping or after bathing it retains a light wave to it, if she doesn't do anything to tame it to her preferences. She dresses in neat, attractive clothing, that flatters her girlish figure without being trashy. She typically dresses in pastels or jewel tones, but stays away from 'depressing' colors, like black or dark reds.
Personality: Nona is a sweet, cheerful girl who has never strayed from the path that her parents laid out for her. She is charming in her honesty, though she will lie to protect someone. Barring that, though, she is quite up front about her feelings on a subject, and doesn't play games with people knowingly. While she is a basically good person, she is a bit shallow and silly, having been spoiled her whole life. She is very sheltered and is used to eating from a silver spoon, which means she is unaccustomed to being dirty or cold or truly sad about anything more important than a lost shoe. She can be quite ditzy, because while she is well-educated on all things the Upperworld teaches, she doesn't know the entire truth of how unfair things are, and is naive to a dangerous point. She's incredibly trusting of anyone who says something nice and looks semi-trustworthy, and so it's painfully easy to trick her and convince her that it's safe to get in the van or come home with them (not that these things happen in the Upperworld!)
While she is spoiled and loved, she definitely knows her place. Her father is commanding and certainly the head of the family, as he makes clear, where his wife is his biggest supporter, and they've made it clear that this will be Nona's role when she is married. Not quite misogynistic, as this upperworld calls for respect to everyone, Nona was definitely born to be the family's doll-like daughter, not a widely successful doctor or athlete. Despite this, Nona is incredibly curious and is searching for something to do with her life that is more rewarding, though she is hesitant to ever say that, especially to her parents, who make her quite timid. She is afraid of angering them or any authority figure and so she'd rather be unhappy and bow to power than argue, even if it is something she believes in, because she doesn't know what a single girl could possibly do.
This has only added to her desire to be proper and works to make her a very good girl. She follows rules to the T, and is appalled at anyone who would break any rule, let alone commit a crime. She can be incredibly snooty and insufferable because of this, and one thing that can get her angry is to try and argue with her about what's right. She feels strongly about her morals and won't compromise them, though this is one of the few things that she's actually strong about. That said, her worldview is a bit skewed due to her pretentious upbringing, and some of the things she's come to expect are things only found on the upperworld.
While Nona is one of the calmer girls of her friends, she can be quite sassy and sometimes high-strung, when dealing with things she dislikes or things that make her unhappy. Just as she is comfortable to compliment and flatter, she is quite honest when someone bothers her, though she is rarely cruel about it. Nona is a charismatic and adventurous girl, something that has been partially influenced by her edited genes, but also her own soul. She has a dream of seeing the world, that is, the upperworld. She has heard plenty of horror stories about the Underground and doesn't have much interest in going there, but does secretly want to meet someone who knows about being down there. She enjoys most company, and is good with children, which can be chocked up to her nurturing personality. She can't bring herself to desert someone who is hurt or needs help, though she is extremely afraid of blood, she'd feel compelled to help anyway. She is also very bad at telling people no, as long as they are polite, as all upperworlders are, and so has great distress with suitors, because she doesn't want to hurt their feelings but isn't sure she is in love with them.
Nona is easily flustered and can be very awkward when it comes to being self-aware, and blushes bright red when people compliment her on something aside from her looks, which is something more common, and can get genuinely awkward and stammery when someone asks for her actual opinion on something. She is also weak in many definitions, but nevertheless tries to mask that by acting like she's fine, though it's easy to tell when she is terrified, because she'll stutter and ramble, and she develops an odd verbal tic of combining things as she lists them, ie: "They look like zombies, or like stone sculptures...or zombies made of stone!" If she is injured, she'll do this to a lesser extent, as she'll become quite quiet and panic to herself, while trying to sound bright and normal to any companion she has. Because of her fear of blood and low pain tolerance, this can lead to her having a complete panic attack, especially since she is far from used to danger or pain.
When Nona is mad to a point where she actually wants to argue, she isn't often very successful, because when she gets angry, she starts to cry, against her intentions, and this often spoils her bravado.
Bio: Nona was born as the only daughter to her parents, with a brother who is 3 years older. Her brother was groomed to be brilliant, and has gone on to leave home to be a doctor and work with genetic mods. Nona, on the other hand, was born to be the daughter her parents could show off. Well-mannered, beautiful, and charming, that was what they made sure of, with decent schoolwork and a stray curiosity that was born of it's own. Nona had never had trouble making friends, as all Upper kids got along easily and were cordial. She met her two best friends, Callum (Whom she calls Cal) and Shayla, as a young girl, and the three stuck together as they grew up. They have a tendency to just walk into her house (locking doors is a moot point, up top) and wait in her room for her or grab food from her kitchen and generally make themselves at home. Nona is nearly finished with her education, though she has the option to go on to University, which she has expressed interest in. Her parents, meanwhile, are distracted with trying to find her a match, to extend their family and business ties, and "make her happy".
While she has dated a few boys without much seriousness, Nona hasn't fallen in love yet, and is hungry for love, not marriage for sensibility. For now, she can escape some of the pressure by using school as an excuse, it keeps her busy.
Extra: Nona was designated to have superior musicality, and she plays piano, violin, and sings quite well, and these are hobbies she enjoys. This has also carried over to give her a sense of rhythm, so she is a good dancer. Also, according to her friends and family, her laugh is infectious and is funny in it's own right, and often makes other people laugh just hearing it.
(elise13)
Name: Conrad (Con) Grayson
Age: 17
Gender: Male
Appearance: Appearance: Conrad has a very rough-and-tumble appearance. He constantly appears to have just rolled out of a bed made of dirt, which is sometimes an accurate statement. Con has dark brown hair, but it’s closer to the color of chocolate than it is to the color black. Not to mention, his hair is at least a shade darker because of the amount of dirt in it. His hair is somewhere between curly and straight, as it has some cute curls intermingled with its general tangled-ness and cowlicks. Con’s hair hangs past his eyebrows most of the time, but when he gets frustrated with it, he will hack at it with his knife in an attempt to tame it. His eyebrows are thick and it is only by some genetic luck that they never grow into a unibrow. Con’s eyes are dark green and have an almost scary piercing quality. His friends always teased him about having a stink eye because of the harsh effect his gaze has. Conrad’s skin has a natural tan, but even that does not prevent some of the pallor caused by such separation from the sun- Conrad himself has only seen the actual sun in glimpses, of course. Con imagines that his skin would be an olive color if he were ever allowed to live in the sun like the Upperworlders. Though, his skin is made a few tones darker by the dirt as well and he always seems to have interesting smudges of it on his face. He also has a pretty good collection of scars on his body. Con has a diagonal scar along his cheek from a knife fight when he was fifteen. He has a few scars on his shoulders and arms and a few very light scars on his legs. Conrad is not particularly freckly. He has a few dark freckles on his body, but he scarcely notices them. He does have a very dark birthmark on his right shoulder blade- it is about the size of his fist, but bears no particular shape, just a blob. Conrad only stands 5’7” tall. This is also attributed to living underground, where many of the ceilings are low. Conrad is built though, muscles are a necessary part of his life, so he hardly possesses any of the gawkiness typically attributed to young males. Still, he is thin due to his minimal diet and small enough to fit through small spaces when the need arises. Con typically wears brown and black clothes, with the occasional greens and tans mixed in. In the end, his clothes usually end up much more brown than how they started, due to the dirt. Con always carries two small knives upon his person and is not afraid to use them if he is threatened. Or angry. Or offended in any way.
Personality: Conrad is a troublesome bloke. He is very opinionated. He has a thought on everything. And it usually is in direct opposition with someone else’s. Con will pick a fight with anyone who disagrees with him. At first he’ll start out defending his position- loudly- but the fights often come to blows. Con has shelled out plenty of money to healers to have himself stitched together in major situations. Most of the time bandages and some good food are enough to put him back in working condition though. But no matter what, he’ll say his piece on what he thinks. And he always wants to win the fight, physically or with words. Con slams his fist on the table whenever he starts truly getting heated on a subject and the next step is to stand up and start yelling louder than his opponent. From there, it usually comes to blows.
Conrad is very energetic. As seen above, he really yells whenever he is passionate. He talks with his hands to the point of occasionally hitting people sitting too close to him. Con is also pretty open with emotions. He will say what he is thinking and feeling. Unless he is really sad. Then he tends to fall silent and brood to himself. He will talk about his problems, unless they are truly serious things. But he has no problem laughing at other people and rolling his eyes when he thinks someone is being an idiot.
Con has the possibility to be sympathetic towards other people. He does not typically care about people’s problems, but when he sees someone in pain he does try to help them. Especially if they seem that they cannot help themselves improve their condition. Although he is rather awkward when he goes about it. With nervous sort of uplifting thoughts and tentative pats on the back sort of gestures. He does his best and he’s not very helpful, but he will try.
Con has an accent of sorts. He picked it up from his father in his youth. Conrad garbles his words, essentially swallowing the second half of the words. His voice is deep and firm and it sounds as gruff as he looks. Con uses slang often and speaks in sentences that are generally short and often skips the subject unless it is necessary to state it (i.e. “Runnin’ t’ the store.” or “ Too spicy.”). This is even worse when he talks with his mouth full, which is every time he has food in his mouth. In his opinion, food should not deter conversation in the slightest, so anyone talking to him will probably see a mouthful of half-chewed food. Also, Conrad eats with his hands just about all of the time. Even if he is eating something like noodles, he manages to use his fingers to eat.
Con is brilliant, in a street smarts sort of way. He is an excellent pickpocket, even able to lift things from other pickpockets if he is so inclined. He only does this when they’ve done something to him though, otherwise there would be no honor at all for the thieves. Even they have the respect not to steal from one another. Just from everyone else. Anyway, Con knows every street and alley of the Underground. And he can run through all of them faster than anyone else. Con can scale buildings quickly and jump between gaps with ease. He claims to be the most talented pickpocket ever when he’s boasting.
Conrad is a braggart. He overemphasizes his skills and doesn’t really admit to any of his faults. He is known for yelling his great skills in bars and restaurants about once a week. Con will sometimes get in a bit over his head because he thinks he’s perfectly capable of things that he really cannot manage.
Bio: Conrad grew up in a very typical Underground manner. He ran around with the neighborhood children, constantly getting in little scuffles and wrestling in the dirt. Con attended the mandatory primary education, learning to read, write, and do simple addition, but attended nothing more. Any level of school beyond that was really imaginary, no one continued on because everyone started working right away. Even people who chose to become managers or chefs only had to attend an extra year of school and then start getting experience under their superiors. Experience is valued much more than education.
Con started picking pockets as soon as he could walk. Though not very well, he got caught pretty often as a youngster, but improved quickly. He quickly excelled to enter a small pickpocket ring and was the highest rank of the youths.
Con’s father worked in building houses for the ever-growing population, so Con helped earn money by working alongside his father. When he started, he just carried light tools for the men, but after a few years he became the person to carry much of the lumber and heftier supplies.
Con’s mother worked as a seamstress, so Con occasionally ran to pick up baskets for her as well in the afternoons. Of course, he often came back with a few extra coins in addition to the basket. Never leave money out around near Conrad.
Because of the family essentially having three incomes, they were decently well off. They had a one room apartment- typical for a family of their size and did pretty well on their own. The floor was comprised of dirt with a few wood boards, but it was home.
That is, until Conrad’s father died. He became very ill when Con was 14 and not even the healers (there were no proper doctors, just healers who did their best with what they gleaned off tales of the Upperworld) could find a remedy. Con and his mother were devastated. His mother laid in bed for weeks after the funeral and Con worried he would lose her to a broken heart. After all, they had been together nearly 20 years and now the love of her life was dead. It was heartbreaking. Meanwhile, Con was left to care for the family while his mother tried to cope with the death. He took over his father’s duties with building and picked more pockets by the day to try and keep food on the table. Plus he kept a bit of extra money on hand in case his mother ended up falling ill and in need of a healer’s aid.
His mother became a wisp of a woman, merely a thin replica of her previously vibrant self. Her hair dulled to a mousy brown instead of the rich color like Con’s. She lived another year, attempting to manage as a seamstress, but never making much actual progress.
After she died, Con left the house, too many sad memories and took to living in a dingy old building with the other pickpockets. They slept in great piles on the floor, acting like a litter of pups instead of a bunch of kids. They rotated turns on the few beds they had scrounged for their living area, so Con was always grateful for his nights in the bed, as he always slept much more deeply on those nights.
Con occasionally still works with the house builders, but mostly spends his time picking pockets and stealing food as the need occurs. But with his family gone, he had nothing to really tie him down to his life in the Underground. And he started to wonder about living under the sun in the Upperworld. If he could become one of them. Rich. Clean, well maybe not too clean. Happy. Not running for his life from an angry vendor or haggling his few coins in exchange for a new pair of boots. Not to be like them, just to live under their sky.
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Mischief Managed!
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Unicorn
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Post by elise13 on Sept 8, 2013 9:58:06 GMT -10
Con fingered someone’s pocket, coming back with a few large coins between his fingers. There was lunch. He continued down the road, which was crowded as people rushed to work. No one was quite awake or willing to pay attention to one dirty kid weaving his way through the crowd. Conrad threw himself at someone, looking like a collision. He apologized profusely, but quickly continued walking. Con glanced at his hand, a full coin purse and some pocket lint. Conrad dropped the lint quickly, no need to hang on to that, he had enough dirt of his own and didn’t need to steal someone else’s.
Conrad slid the purse in his pocket, looking around for his next mark. He debated laying off for a bit, to keep from being suspicious, but was loath to lose any profits during the ideal time of day. The lights were still dimmed because the day had just begun and no one responded to the bright lights of the day well early in the morning. Conrad liked the lights that hung above everyone’s heads. It made living underground seem a bit less dark and dank. That is, until you looked to the walls and saw the dirt they were constantly surrounded with. No wonder no one was ever clean, they couldn’t help it. They lived in a world of dirt. In fact, many of the buildings were just dirt cleverly piled together to look like proper buildings. Of course, Conrad had never really seen a proper building, he just heard people talk about it when they talked about the olden days of their ancestors. Still, Con wondered why they didn’t just revolt and go back to the Upperworld. No one really seemed to like it underground and he imagined they could easily overpower those robots in the Upperworld. Then they could live in the sunlight instead of by the fake sun. They could have all the supplies they needed, instead of working with the limited resources they had. Conrad just appreciated that they were allowed some of the food grown in the Upperworld or they surely would have starved by now. Despite that allotment, potatoes were still the main food for the Underground. It was one of the few things they could grow with their resources. So potato bread, potatoes with potatoes, potato pies. About half of everything they ate was made of potatoes. Con quite liked potatoes, so it suited him well, but he wondered how else people might eat.
Con continued down the road, unable to stop since he was in a river of human bodies. He coughed slightly as he caught a whiff of someone with a worse odor than the average. That guy might do well to cover himself in a layer of mud to mask that. Or do something about it. And then bury those clothes. Conrad slapped hands with one of the other pickpockets making their daily rounds. Con quite liked the other pickpockets, which was probably a rather strange sentence. But they were a fun bunch. When they were home, they were always laughing and playing cards. Or wrestling and arguing about who could run the fastest. Someone was always moving and someone was nearly always snoozing nearby. Con remembered when Slithy fell asleep once, everyone else conspired together to hang him upside down on the wall, but the plan quickly went sour when Slithy fell halfway through the process and came after them in a fit of anger. Conrad remembered laughing so hard his sides ached after escaping Slithy’s wrath. That had been fun.
Conrad slipped his hand into another pocket absently, but then something odd happened. The pocket grabbed him! Con tried to yank his hand back, but could not free his wrist. He looked, no the pocket was not what had him, it was a hand. Con looked up slightly, the man gripping Con’s wrist looked furious. Con breathed, “Curses.” The man screamed, “Thief!” Well, that was certainly going to draw attention. Con stamped his heel down on the man’s foot. The man’s grip loosened slightly and Con ducked away, running as fast as he could go. Conrad ducked under arms and between legs, crossing the road in hopes for safety. But the man’s shout had drawn the attention of the crowd. And then a few people decided they had it in their hearts to try to go after the thief. Perhaps they wanted his spoils for themselves, or perhaps they had fallen prey to pickpockets before and were looking for revenge. Either way, Conrad was in for more trouble than he bargained for.
Con sprinted down an alley after kicking one of his pursuers. He then turned down another road, less busy than the previous and started to run with the flow of the crowd. The men behind him yelled and shoved people out of the way. Honestly, people band together now? Just to inconvenience Conrad no doubt. Con sighed, not a good choice while running, and pressed on. Someone tackled him. Con screamed, squirming to escape the man. The man landed a good punch on Con’s face, that was going to bruise. Con gasped for breath as the man weighed down on his lungs. Suddenly he saw a fist approaching again and Con managed to bat it away from his face, knocking the man off balance. Conrad took his chance and pushed the man off with all his strength. The other men had just caught up and started grabbing for Con.
Con ducked under their arms and the chase was one again. Running blindly and hoping to lose them was not going to work. Con had do get somewhere they could not follow him. He ran down a few allies he knew by heart and scaled the side of a building in a matter of seconds. Con took a few breaths, looking up. He could hold on up here for a few minutes. Perhaps the men would get bored with him by then and go back to their lives. The men appeared at the bottom of his wall, looking up and pointing. Then they started to climb after him. Slowly, but surely. They just wouldn’t give up.
Con looked around, he would have to get out of here. And he had a feeling just running across roofs was not going to improve his situation much more. Then he saw it. A pothole. No more than a jump away. Con thought he could fit through the opening. Those hulking men certainly couldn’t. Nor would they really want to risk getting shot in the Upperworld just to chase a kid. But Con would be fine. He could just pop back down as soon as they were gone. It would be a great story to tell the boys. Con shouted, looking at the men below, “Admire your commitment, gents. But got to go now. Won’t be seein’ you ‘gain.”
With that, Con clambered up a bit higher, then slid through the hole.
White.
Bright.
It was so light up here.
Con squinted, blinking his eyes blearily to try to see. Was this all from the sun? Conrad ducked his head, climbing blindly away from the hole. His eyes kept watering and preventing him from going anywhere fast. Thankfully, this was no crowded street of the Underworld. Con couldn’t quite tell where he actually was, all he knew was it was bright and no one was stepping on him. And he hadn’t been shot yet, so he hadn’t been seen by anyone.
Conrad tried to peek at the world through by opening his eyes into slits. It was still dazzlingly bright. Even through his lashes. Con slowly pried his eyes open bit by bit until he could open his lids completely. It was still bright, but his eyes were not watering as much anymore. Con wiped away the tears that had run down his cheeks, the dirt on the back of his hand smudging from the water.
Con started looking around, trying to puzzle out where he was. If he was already up here, he might as well have a tiny peek around and see what it was really like in the robotic Upperworld. And have a few minutes on the sun. As long as he stuck around this hole, he could just jump back down if someone tried to take a shot at him. That seemed safe enough to Conrad.
Everything seemed to shine with cleanliness. There was not a spot of dirt anywhere Conrad could see. Except for upon his own body, he supposed. He almost felt filthy up here. Perhaps that was why everyone stayed in the Underworld, the cleanliness up here was horrifying. And the people were robots too, Con supposed.
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"Put that thing back where it came from or so help me!"
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Dec 5, 2020 9:20:08 GMT -10
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Marquis (Marquise)
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Post by smartblondie on Sept 8, 2013 10:30:32 GMT -10
"Yes, yes, I'll be good, don't fuss." Nona laughed lightly and squirmed as her mother smoothed her hair and tugged at her skirt. "Mother, please, I don't want you to be late! Do tell me how it goes, yes?" she implored, squeezing her mother's hands gently. Her parents were off to a brunch with her father's boss, and hopefully it would end with a promotion for Daddy. "Good luck, Daddy." she stood on his tiptoes to kiss his cheek, and then her mother next, and waggled her fingers as they finally strolled outside. Her mother was giggling about something and murmuring to her father, who turned to give her one last smile. "Ah, and Nona, we'd like to talk about you having dinner with the boss's son when we get back. Sound good?" he called over his shoulder, and Nona could only nod her head stiffly, a sweet smile frozen on her face. She'd been having such a nice day, too.
Alone, Nona let the door swing shut, sighing lightly. "Well, now I've got a few hours to spend..." she murmured to herself. How boring. She had only a single morning class today, and had a few pages to read for tomorrow. Well, procrastination wasn't an attractive feature, her father always said. Better get to it. Perched on one of their plush white armchairs Nona had the automated nanny bring her a lemonade to sip at as she looked through her ebook. So dull. She loved learning and classes were usually fun, but this was history. All about the early ages of forming their current peaceful civilization. Like she hadn't heard about it 50 times before. Oh well, she couldn't be complaining.
"Miss Avery. We have detected an individual on the premises." a voice startled Nona out of her reading, and she looked up, though there was no one to see. Just the house's self-awareness. "Yes? That's all well and good, thank you. Probably Cal. Maybe Shayla too, though she said she was going to her sister's office today." she mused aloud, not paying the alert much mind. The house accepted her answer, of course, and Nona distractedly read a few more paragraphs before pausing again. Odd, wasn't it? Cal never waited to be let in, he and Shayla just barged right in. Where was that boy? "Call Cal, please." she commanded, tapping her fingers as the phone connection was established. "Hello, Callum speaking. Nona, is that you? Can I help you?" her friend's voice filtered around the room, and she pursed her lips. "Cal, where are you?" she asked curiously, wondering if maybe she was wrong. "Hmm? An odd question...I'm at home, I've got to work on some applications for University. Thought I told you ladies that this morning. Ah, why? Would you like to see me?" he laughed good-naturedly, and she giggled too, though she was quite puzzled. "Ah, no, sorry. I was just...just wondering what everyone was up to. I'll let you get back to work. Have a nice day, Cal." she disconnected the call quickly, cheeks red. She was sure it was Cal outside. "House? Can you recognize the person on the grounds?" she asked as she stood, smoothing out the skirt of her dress as she waited. After a few minutes, the house AI replied, "No, ma'am. No records found." she frowned now, not sure if this was a joke. "How odd. I suppose I'll go out and have a look, then." she wandered into the front hall, slipping on shoes before walking outside.
"What a lovely day." she murmured to herself softly, smiling at the landscape. Her father was so proud of their beautiful lawn. It was rather charming. Still, she wasn't here to admire her home. She followed the little cobbled path through the yard, plucking a flower from the garden as she went, twirling it around dreamily, wondering how her parent's were doing. Fine, surely. She got her charisma from her father, she was told. They'd made sure she'd also have that. Her brother was given that trait as well. She missed him. Maybe he would-
Her train of thought was interrupted when she noticed an odd sight. A dark blob in the middle of the shiny environment. "What in the world?" she whispered, walking over to it curiously. "Why, it's a person." she realized, letting the flower fall from her fingers in surprise. "Hello? Excuse me, sir." she called out, walking slowly to him. "What's happened to you?! Are you all right?" she asked anxiously, not understanding how anyone could get so dirty. She'd never seen an upworlder look so rugged. "Who are you?" she asked after a second, her mind drifting back to her reading. What if he was...no, no way! But the thought tugged at her, and she couldn't help but ask, "You...are you from below?"
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Post by elise13 on Sept 9, 2013 11:09:58 GMT -10
Conrad suddenly heard a noise. A voice. A voice that could shoot him in a few seconds. Con immediately twisted his body to see the source of the voice. It did not sound quite as robotic as he would have imagined. The voice had a few inflections, indicating its surprise and curiosity. But it was still a pretty stiff voice. The inflections were mild at best. The voice was quiet and measured. Obviously, the voice followed the proper rules for grammar in the Upperworld. Conrad wasn’t even sure himself what the actual rules were for the Underground. And were they the same as those of the Upperworld. What an odd thing to think about. The proper ways of speaking.
But the voice didn’t shoot him.
As Conrad turned, he saw that the voice belonged to a girl, which explained some of its softness. It was a woman’s voice. Well, at least that was less of the threat. Con’s first impression beyond her gender was that she was white. Just white. His eyes almost started watering again from the light practically emitting from her white attire and skin. She was a small person, Con guessed he could break a rib with a light jab. But what really mesmerized Conrad was just how white she really was. She did not even have marks on her skin. In fact, Con might have mistaken her for a statue if he hadn’t heard her speak.
Con examined the robot from his position on the ground- he had yet to actually get up- with his head titled slightly, brows knit in thought.
Conrad decided not to be afraid of the robot. She did not appear to have a weapon, there was not much room to hide anything in that impractical white dress. Speaking of its impracticality, how was she even wearing white? Surely it ought to be at least tinted brown from the dirt. Con spared a look around. Where was the dirt? The walls? There were no walls, Conrad suddenly realized. It was just open. They didn’t brush up against the dirt walls on a regular basis. They could be clean up here. They must have swept all their dirt down to the Underground.
Conrad pulled himself off the ground. He didn’t want to look weak and small in front of the robot. Even if she couldn’t comprehend such thoughts, being as weak and small as she was. Apparently she already thought he was in desperate need of her help because she came right up asking what was wrong with him. Conrad glanced down at himself, he didn’t appear to be bleeding, so he could spot no actual reason for her concern about his health.
Con scoffed at her final question. She had final come to the truth. But at least she was not crying about it. Could the robots up here even cry? Con had to assume so. They had the eyes for it, at least. But maybe they had modified themselves all up so they couldn’t cry. Because emotions were for the weak, according to those idiots.
Con jutted his chin out, almost boasting, “Course I am. ‘Ve got emotions, haven’t I? Can’t be one of you lot then. Don’ call those police of yours and you can go back to your clean little life in a minute. Jus’ popped up for a second.” He made a point of glancing around slightly, like he was taking note of everything to see if it met his approval. Hopefully, that would satisfy her little robot mind and send her back to her lazy Upperworlder life.
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Post by smartblondie on Sept 9, 2013 12:32:40 GMT -10
Nona startled as the person moved, reacting to the sound of her voice. She took a hesitant step back, wringing her hands anxiously. He seemed to be trying to understand a lot of things at once. Perhaps he'd suffered a knock to the head, acting so lost and confused. Well, it was odd for some stranger to pop into her backyard. Looking at him, he was quite foreign. A dark spot on the pure light colors of her life. Dark, dirty clothing, tanned skin, dark, messy hair. He was sitting on the ground, even after noticing her, which her father would've been palled at. Manners said to stand when you greet someone. Especially a lady. Oh, maybe she shouldn't ask him if he hadn't better do that. He might get angry.
Nona tugged at the ends of hair distractedly as the boy looked around wildly, as if trying to find something, and for a few moments the two of them simply stared at each other, him with suspicion in his eyes, her with pure curiosity and mild concern. After it became a bit indecent, the boy stood, without any word, and she chewed her lip. He wasn't all that tall, though she still had to look up at him. Not as built as some athletes, but he could be one of them. Hmm. He appraised himself questioningly, and didn't seem to find anything wrong. "..But, you're so filthy.." she stated uncomfortably, gesturing lightly at his filth. Perhaps he didn't realize the dirt on him wasn't just his skin color? What a strange notion.
She frowned a bit at his tone, not used to hearing someone speak to her so derisively. Still, she chose to take it as a joke, and laughed mildly, "Well, excuse me. What an odd thing to say! Do you consider yourself one of those...ooh, what's the word, backwards-thinkers?" she quirked her head curiously. But before she could reaffirm play around more, his words sunk in. "Wait, you...you're...you..." she stuttered, eyes widening. "But..how? I mean, oh, wow. You're really from down there? How curious...what's it like?" she asked curiously, knowing she was doing something really wrong at the moment. Still, he wasn't so scary. She'd been told that underworlders were dirty (okay, that much was true) and evil. They hated all things progressive, she was told, and would kill and steal and hurt innocent people like herself. Unless she had sorely misunderstood what those words meant, he was doing...none of them. "Oh, dear...I suppose it's not safe for you to be here in the open..no, not a bit. Don't you know they'll be so angry? They'd make you report to some official, I imagine. Oh, or put in some detainment?" she murmured, running her hands through her hair anxiously. She didn't have a clue what happened to people who crossed the line. They didn't really have jails, did they? Maybe there were special ones for underworlders? Odd. She'd have to ask father later, what happened to underworlders who were caught. All she'd ever heard before was that they'd be dealt with, and a proactive citizen must report them. Well, she wasn't doing that, so she was a bit behind. Oh well, she didn't see why she had to report him, if he really intended to go back after awhile. "Oh, well, you must come with me. If you stay here, it would be too risky." she asserted, committing to her initial inclination. She just couldn't let him get thrown in a slammer for just being curious...that was what it was, wasn't it? He wanted to know about them? "I'll hide you, okay? C'mon, then." she took him by the wrist when he didn't seem to move towards her house, and tugged him along to the back door, deciding it too risky to go back through her front door. Someone could see.
"Miss Avery, have you-" Nona close the door softly behind them as the AI spoke, and shook her head needlessly. "Oh, please...no records taken, if you will. My guest and I will be in my room. No disturbances, please." she told the house, grimacing down at the dark lines on her hand from grabbing him. "You really are filthy." she told him plainly, pursing her lips. She'd let him use her bath, she decided, but currently just led him to the stairs. "You can stay in my room, okay?" she took her shoes off at the front hall before remembering to say, "Don't worry, my parents are out. They'll be back later, but we don't have to be too sneaky just yet." She beamed at the way things had sorted themselves out, her lips tugging up at the edges at this little secret she'd discovered for herself. What an adventure she was having! She'd just help him stay here and clean up and he could go home when he needed to. "Oh, I didn't realize, I haven't introduced myself. My name is Nona."
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Post by elise13 on Sept 11, 2013 16:39:46 GMT -10
Conrad rolled her eyes. She was upset about how dirty he was. Of course she was. Prissy little think. Con shrugged, “Or you’re too clean. ‘M not the problem.” Obviously, it probably seemed weird to her. She was wearing white. She didn’t see the dirt walls. But he was pretty clean, considering. He had bathed recently. It had to be last week. Or maybe the week before that. But no earlier. And that was reasonably. He usually cleaned off once a month. He was still pretty clean, considering. It was earlier in his bathing cycle. Or in the middle. Either way, Conrad was not as dirty as she was acting like he was. Honestly, how shallow.
Conrad took in a sharp breath, ready to argue with her about who the backwards thinker was when she went off on another tangent. She was realizing (again) that he really was from the Underground. Was she thick? Maybe she was a bit slow and had trouble grasping new things. After all, she had gotten rather stalled on how dirty he was, which was a pretty obvious normal thing to be. Even if she was ridiculously clean, she ought to understand that other people weren’t as freakishly white.
“Already said I was. Can’t figure out what of that you don’t understand.” But then she seemed to grasp it the second time. Yes, he was from the Underground. What a ridiculous girl. She started asking questions though. Con thought that was something of a sign of intelligence. She knew how to ask decent questions. They weren’t good questions. They had obvious answers, but they weren’t completely ridiculous. She had never been there. It was reasonable for her to ask about it. At least a little bit.
Con snorted, “Better’n this. Easier on the eyes. Got a string of lights instead of yours.” He pointed towards the sun. Con was curious as to how they kept that light up there. If there were no walls to support the ceiling, how did they keep it up. Unless of course, there were walls and Conrad just couldn’t see them from here. Because the Overworlders clearly had more space to use, so their walls were just farther apart. That light was interesting though. It was so bright. Much brighter than their whole string of lights. Which was strange. Did they just get more power, Con wondered. Or was it some kind of technology they hoarded for themselves? They seemed a bit selfish like that. After all, they had forced the Undergrounders to live in a much smaller space instead of sharing equally.
Then she started talking quickly. About what she thought might happen if he were to stay out in the open. They might be angry? Honestly, that was what she thought? Surely, she had to know what happened to anyone who came up. Shot. On sight. A few lucky kids came back because no one wanted to shoot them, but bodies had been tossed down before. Well, only two within Con’s memory, but he had been told that in the beginning, more people had ventured to the Overworld. And been punished severely for trying to “disturb the peace.” As if. But slowly, less people had one up. And now only the really desperate went up. Sometimes as a means of suicide, Con figured. He’d never really asked. Just learned his lesson. Apparently not very well though, since he had gone up anyway. Not the best choice, but so far, he had yet to be shot. And he got to see this sun of theirs. Which was fascinating.
Conrad told her, not moving, “They’ll shoot. No official. Just a gun.” Maybe that would get something through to her little head. Perhaps she was too slow to even pick up on the fact that she was the oppressor. Or at least lived among them. And she hadn’t known this whole time? Or was she just playing stupid? Trying to lull him into a false sense of security until she could get someone there to shoot him. How horrid. To think of such a small girl trying to pull one over on him like that. But that did seem like an awful lot of work just to kill someone. Surely, she could just scream and someone would hear her. Obviously, she was too weak to defend herself, so there had to be someone around to protect her from everyone else. On a normal day, Con would have pegged her for an easy mark. Snatch a few coins and move on. But today was no normal day, Conrad supposed.
Still, Conrad was not eager to follow her into the enclosed house. He would be leaving his hole behind. His surefire way to get back to the safety of the Underground. So he stayed still. Maybe she would drop it if he didn’t go right along with her.
But she didn’t.
She grabbed his wrist, which was rather surprising considering she had looked at his dirtiness with disgust but a moment before.
Then she pulled him inside. Conrad could have broken away from her grip. Easily. He might have hurt her by accident in the process. Just because she was so fragile. Conrad saw himself doing it in his mind. Twisting his wrist away from her grip. Running for the hole. Diving through. He could have done it all in a matter of seconds. Con could have run away. Hopped back down his hole and gone back to his regular life. It would have been simple. And his life would have gone back to the same old, same old. He would go and tell the boys what he saw. How white everything was. How his eyes had watered. How the people up there were so thick. How easy it would be to pick all the pockets there were up there, provided no one was shooting, of course. How clean it was. How there were no walls. The sun. How foreign it all was. But Conrad didn’t break away. He let her pull him around the structure, which was gigantic, Conrad realized. Con allowed her to take him inside the building. To shut the door to block his escape. Con wasn’t sure why he didn’t run. Because he was curious, perhaps. Because he wanted to see how far he could get before it all fell apart. Because there was nothing to go back to, Conrad thought morbidly. No matter the cause, Con stayed with the girl. He could always leave in a bit, he reminded himself. There was nothing saying that once he went inside, he could not just leave whenever he wanted.
Once they were inside, a voice sounded. Conrad ducked his head, throwing his arms up to protect himself. He was sure he was going to die now. But nothing happened. Rather, the girl told the voice to leave her alone. No disturbances. She controlled that monstrous, monotonous voice? Con had an inkling more respect for her in that moment. It was impressive. To have control over such a strange thing.
Con quickly righted himself though, no need to cower in fear if that little girl was not afraid of the voice too. He made a quiet snorting noise when she told him he was “filthy.” Again. Honestly, what part of the fact that he was the normal one could she not grasp?
Conrad looked at the girl skeptically. Did she mean to say that the only people they had to worry about seeing them in this whole building were her absentee parents? That they had this whole complex to themselves. Then she said something about how he could stay in her room. She had a whole space all to herself. That seemed so wasteful. Conrad had lived for years sleeping mere feet from his parents. He could walk across their whole quarters in a few long strides (now, not when he was young). And they had been well off. They were lucky. But this girl…they had a whole building. That seemed so strange. So wrong. So Upperworld. Still, Con just had to ask. He queried, “You have this whole building? For just your family?” Conrad gestured at all the space around them. Oh, and the entire space was as bright and clean inside as it was outside. How was that even possible? Neither the walls nor the floors seemed to be made from compacted dirt, as his were. Unless the dirt was painted over. In which case, they did a really good job of compacting it and smoothing it out. The construction workers below would be interested in how the Upperworlders managed to do such a thing.
Conrad looked down. She was taking off her shoes. Why was she doing that? Didn’t that go against her whole thing about being clean? Shouldn’t she keep those shoes on to protect herself from all the horrid dirt? Con pointed at her shoes. He asked, “Why did you take those off?” Now that he was here, he found he had a million questions. And he might as well ask all of them while he had the chance. Con was a rather curious person, he liked to know about things. He wasn’t really one to ask a million questions, but now he just had them pouring from his mind. All of this. It was so new. So strange. And he had every right to ask a bunch of questions about this peculiar place.
The girl introduced herself next. Nona. That was a little name. A cute one, Con supposed. It suited her, in a strange way. Perhaps her parents had genetically modified her to fit the name. Speaking of genetic modifications, she didn’t look as inhuman as Con was expecting. She had all the necessary fingers. And toes, from the looks of it. Two eyes. Hair. A nose and mouth. Nothing was vastly different. The colors were different, that was all that Conrad noticed. She had only light colors on her body. No dark hair or eyes. But maybe that was just her. Although, come to think of it, Conrad had never seen anyone with light-colored hair before. Ever. They were all up here, maybe. Or maybe light colors were the genetic modification. Conrad pondered that a moment. They separated and forced people underground. Just so they could have light colors. That seemed to be the most frivolous thing Conrad had ever heard of.
But Conrad still had to introduce himself. He said, “’M Conrad. Everyone calls me Con though, so guess you can. Easier for you to remember, at least, Nona.” He tested her name at the end. Just to make sure he could say it right. And remember it for the little bit he was in Upperworld for.
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Post by smartblondie on Sept 12, 2013 9:34:12 GMT -10
Nona gave him a puzzled look at his rebound that /she/ was the odd one, being too clean. Was there such a thing? Maybe that was a joke. "Too clean?" she repeated, giggling. "Never heard that one before, I'll give you that." she shrugged, looking down at herself curiously. She didn't look any different than she always did. No one had ever said she was too clean or something strange like that. Well, he was from below. They were a strange bunch, to be sure. If his state was typical, she was afraid to picture what they considered dirty.
She made a hurt face at his tone, raising one brow. "Well, I've never met one of you before!" she said in her defense, tilting her head slightly at his description. Not very detailed. "...right." she finally managed to say, not sure what that meant. The Upperworld was beautiful, pristine, blooming with life and gardens and all that. She followed his finger until she realized he meant the sun. Now she had to laugh, though she tried to muffle it. "I'm sorry, you have a string of suns?" she asked, not sure they knew what they other was saying. "Well, you don't look directly at the sun, of course it can be hard on the eyes." she quipped, though really, this was something that grade-schoolers learned. Surely he should know. Still, the guy looked around questioningly, seeming puzzled by everything he saw. "If you like smaller lights than the sun, we have those too, of course...but we're outside." she pointed out, as if this wasn't already obvious.
Still, he seemed to know clearly the stakes of being out here. She gasped quietly at what he said, not believing it. He seemed pretty serious, but she'd never heard of something so barbaric. Guns were kept still, but they were like, vintage. Antiques. People didn't actually shoot them, unless you were a hunter, who shot game for meat or furs or whatever. Some people really liked fresh stuff. Still, she'd only heard of guns being used against people in her history classes. "You must be confused. They wouldn't, I mean, that's just madness. There isn't anything violent like that around here." she finally said, though her voice held a note of concerned doubt. No, no, he was probably just trying to scare her, mess with her. She wouldn't fall for that, it was so far-fetched!
Oh, well. to her immense pleasure, the underworlder let her take him inside, where it felt much more private. She smiled at the way he startled at the AI, wondering if they didn't have AIs down there. But how did they do anything without the robotic help? Still, he seemed a bit disagreeable on the topic of his hygiene. Oh well, she'd get him a good bath later, and they'd be settled. As they walked through the house, the boy asked her an odd question. She laughed, thinking it was a joke or something, but he looked serious. "Well, yes, of course. Well, it's just my father, mother, and I right now. My brother is off at University, he's studying medicine." she beamed proudly as she explained. "So his room was changed into a little studio for my mother. She likes to paint sometimes." she grinned, picturing her mother suddenly overcome with the desire to paint a bowl of fruit or something. He was examing her home curiously, and she wondered what his house could possibly be like. He seemed oddly fascinated. She frowned at his question, not getting it, and looked down at her shoes too. "Oh, I suppose some people wear shoes inside. My mother doesn't like shoes inside unless you're about to leave. She doesn't want dirt tracked inside, and she doesn't want scuffed floors." she explained simply, shrugging. She'd never really thought about why she took off her shoes when she went inside. It was just...what you did.
As they climbed the stairs, Nona taking them backwards to talk to her visitor, she found herself prey to a curious analysis. He seemed to be trying to size her up. She wondered if she looked very different from underworlders. She supposed he was different from her, but he could be an odd person out. He was very dark, just looking at him. Even disregarding the dirt that coated him. Dark messy brown hair, dark eyes. Her gaze caught on a paler line on his cheek, and she puzzled over what it might be. Some sort of tattoo? She was distracted by his introduction, and she beamed at his offering his name. "Con, okay, nice to meet you!" she walked to her door, swinging it open and gesturing for him to enter.
"Make yourself at home." she said politely, wincing a bit inside. Her bedspread was a pure white and pink. As was most of her room. Maybe that bath sooner than later. Her room was large and tidy, with a soft fluffy carpet and a high ceiling. She had a large bay window on one wall, with a window seat, and her large bed took up a great portion of one side of the room, piled up with pillows. Her closet was through the door across from the bed, and next to it, on the wall, hung a large mirror, with a dresser beneath it with all of her little things, like perfume or hairbrushes arranged on it. "Ah, the bathroom is through there..." she offered, pointing to a door painted light pink. The entire room was lit with twinkle lights strung up across the ceiling, and one candle that burned beside her bed, giving off a light vanilla smell. She slipped past him to sit on one of her big swivel chairs, spinning it to face him. She stared at him for a moment, in pure curiosity and wonder before she had to ask a question. "You really are from underground...how odd. What do you do down there? What is your school like? Do your friends know you've come up here? They're surely worried, aren't they?" she fired off each question on top of each other, too curious to stand it. "Oh, sorry, I didn't ask if you wanted anything. Food? Drink?"
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Post by elise13 on Sept 12, 2013 12:33:39 GMT -10
Conrad frowned. What was she laughing at? He hadn’t said anything funny. All he’d said was they didn’t have one big light as bright as theirs. She had asked what it looked like Underground. And the lighting was the biggest difference Con noticed right away. That and the cleanliness, but she was not particularly receptive to this idea. Con nodded, “Yeah. Aren’t as bright as that big one, so have more.” He crossed his arms, trying not to lose his temper with her stupidity. Maybe it was because Upperworlders were so placid that she couldn’t help but be stupid. She didn’t know how to be smarter at all.
Conrad decided to ignore her comment about not looking at the sun. He wouldn’t have thought of not looking at it. Although Conrad had yet to actually look in its direction. His eyes were still struggling to adjust to everything else, let alone look right at that light. She really thought he was the thick one didn’t she? Con didn’t really understand why she said he couldn’t look at the light if he wanted to. What was so wrong with that? It was not as if the light was going to burn his eyes out if he looked at it. That would be a rather malicious light to live under. Something no one could ever look at. That seemed foolish, even for the Upperworlders.
Con gave the girl a look when she brought up having smaller lights inside. Did she think he was completely helpless. Of course they had candles inside. For when the light was turned off, of course. Or so everyone could see into nooks and crannies for possible attackers. They had those Underground. Con huffed, “Know what candles are. Not stupid.”
Then she started to quibble with him over the matter of shooting Undergrounders. Now she apparently thought he didn’t know what he was talking about on the punishments for his own people. Honestly. Just because he was not a robot did not mean he didn’t know how the world worked. Con raised his voice slightly, “Know what I’m talking about! Seen it myself. Bodies. Don’t know what goes on around you.” That might have been a bit harsh, but he was not about to have this girl thinking no one up there would ever hurt a fly. They killed people. And he would not stand for her acting like he was being overly dramatic or didn’t know what he was saying. So he had to say it. He couldn’t help but tell her.
Con was a bit put off by her laugh. Again, these all seemed to be reasonable questions to him. But she answered him anyway, so at least she had that going for her. Maybe that was really how it was up here. A family owned a whole building. What did they need all the space for? The girl talked about a studio for her mother. For painting. Conrad was not sure why the woman needed a special room for her paints. Conrad assumed she painted buildings, though he was not sure whether she painted the inside or outside. Perhaps that was how they kept everything so white. They had fleets of people to paint them over and over as they got dirtier. And that was what her mother did. So she had a room to keep replenishing her paint supply. That made sense, in a way, Conrad supposed. She would have to have a lot of white paint in there, to keep up with the demand.
Though there was something that plagued Conrad from what she said. Her brother was at University. Where was that? Obviously, it was a city far enough away that his mother took his room. Or maybe it was a term robots used when someone died up here, so they didn’t have to feel guilty about it. If they could feel guilt, which Conrad supposed they could not. It was just a euphemism for death, perhaps. That was why she didn’t understand about the possibility for him to get shot. Because she did not really know about death. But that didn’t seem quite right to Con. She said her brother was studying medicine. Did that mean he spent his days staring at tinctures and things meant for healing? That seemed like typical useless Upperworlder behavior to him. And smiled when she mentioned where he was. So she could not be sad about it. He could not be dead. Con asked, “Where’s University?”
Conrad made a small noise to indicate his understanding of the shoes thing. Their floors did not appear to be made of dirt. And they liked to keep their dirt all in one place. Probably so they could sweep it all away to the Underground. Although he had never actually seen them sweeping their dirt through the holes, so he was not really sure about how that really worked. Still, Con copied her, slipping his feet from his boots. His feet were probably the cleanest part about them, they were exposed to the least dirt, but they were hardly cleaner than the rest of him. Though they were a whole shade lighter than the rest of him. Con left his shoes next to hers. The image was a bit funny, even to Con. His big, dark, practical shoes juxtaposed with her small, light, clean, impractical shoes.
The room they entered was similar to the rest of the building that was only their house. Except it smelled nicer. Like some kind of food, but Conrad saw no food out to be the source for the smell. The room also had more pink than the rest of the building. It was a girl’s room, so adding color made a little bit of sense. And it was a nice visual break from all the white and similar colors around everywhere else. Even if it was pink. Con was immediately drawn to the thing under his feet. That was soft. He stopped even trying to look at the rest of the room as he looked at this thing. What was this? Con took a moment to debate if he wanted to act like he was clever and knew all about this substance, but quickly found he could not resist the compulsion to touch it. Conrad crouched down, feeling the softness with his hands instead of his feet. It was so soft. And fluffy. His feet could not even feel the hard floor he was sure had to be beneath them to hold them up. Con said, “Like this. Soft.” He caressed it a moment more before he decided he ought to get up before he looked silly. He could still feel it with his feet, even if he stood up.
Conrad looked around the room. She had a huge bed. Three people could fit in that. Happily. If they had those with the boys, they would hardly ever have to sleep on the floor. And she had this all to herself. She said it was her room. As in it belonged to only her. As in, she was the only person who slept in that bed. How odd. They had so much space up here. They didn’t have to cram into buildings with neighbors. They had houses all to themselves. How very strange. And there were all those soft-looking cushions on there. Those looked like they could stack all the way to the ceiling. Well, his ceiling Underground. He was not really sure how high their ceiling was. Higher than his though, certainly.
Con noticed the mirror next. He had seen a mirror once, but it was small. About the size of the palm of his hand. Not as gigantic as this one. How foreign. How much must she look at herself to need this. Upon looking at the mirror, Con was befuddled by his own countenance. Sure, he had seen himself in reflections on the water and once in the mirror, but he had never had such a clear view of himself. His eyes. Those were interesting. Really dark. No wonder everyone always said his gaze was frightening. His eyes. And that scar, he hadn’t really thought much of it before. But it was lighter than much of his other skin, even through the dirt. Conrad just stared a moment, a bit perplexed by his image. It was so strange to see himself like he saw everyone else.
Conrad forced himself to tear his gaze from the mirror, seeing the dresser below it. That had all sorts of little objects he did not recognize. Maybe they were some sort of tool to keep up with all the genetic modifications. Or maybe they helped keep everyone robotic. That was not interesting.
Carefully keeping from looking at his reflection again, Con saw the window next. He walked to it, the carpet still soft beneath his bare feet. It was huge. And it had glass. In her personal room! In the Underground, most windows were open, except for being boarded up to deter thieves at night. Glass was expensive. Hardly any private homes had any. Con’s original house didn’t even have a window. Neither did where he lived with the pickpockets. Which made sense, of course. Harder to break in where there’s no windows.
Con stared out the window, one knee on the bench before it. There was so much space. Even with the higher view the window afforded, Con could not see the walls. Or where they met the ceiling. He squinted, still nothing. He could see, however, the other houses from a better angle. They all looked as large as Nona’s. And white. And clean. And very similar to each other. Con ignored her comment about the bathroom. If he ignored that, perhaps she would drop the topic. And stop trying to tell him that he was the dirty one.
Con stared a bit more. It was strange. All the uniformity. But Conrad stopped looking out there. It hurt his head a bit to think about that so much. There was just so much to see. He could not just stare outside. There was so much inside.
Con walked back away from the window, not wanting to stand too close. Just in case someone saw him and got it in their minds to shoot at him. Since he apparently looked like an alien in the robotic Upperworld.
He glanced at the ceiling, noticing the little lights. They were dainty, but similar to the lights strung up on the ceiling at home. Except smaller. Conrad pointed at those, “Like these. But bigger. More useful.” He liked those. They made him happy. Maybe because they were like home, or maybe because they twinkled so sweetly.
Nona suddenly started talking again. Con looked down from the ceiling, seeing her in some strange contraption that was apparently a stool and looking eagerly at him. Apparently, she seemed as ignorant to the Underground as he was to the Upperworld. But that was a lot of questions in a row.
Con started, “Er…Normal things. People things. Work. Eat. Don’t really know what you’re asking.” He shrugged, striving to answer all of her questions so he didn’t appear dim. Con continued, “Remember school was small. Lots of kids in a few rooms. Boring. Didn’t like all the math. Confusing. But can count, so that’s all that matters. Haven’t seen how it is since I was a kid though. Maybe smaller, since I’m bigger.” Con wasn’t really sure why she was asking about school. He was obviously much too old to be attending school anymore. He was nearly an adult. Much too old to be learning to read and write and add. Honestly!
Then she asked about his friends. He hadn’t thought about them being worried. They probably wouldn’t worry much. They would just assume he was off on an adventure. Just expect him back in a few days. They would not freak out immediately upon seeing him gone. They might be curious, but not as dramatically worried as Nona acted like they ought to be. Con shook his head, “Don’t know I’m here. Ran up here to hide from some guys. Couldn’t follow me. Or were too afraid. Either way, better luck up here than with them.” Con shrugged, that seemed to be an average enough reason to be up here. It had been a matter of necessity. Running for his life. That happened often enough as a pickpocket. No one liked to be stolen from. Even if it was rather commonplace in the Underground.
Con raised his brows at the mention of food. He was hungry. He hadn’t eaten yet today. He usually picked pockets to get his money to eat for the day. Con hadn’t even thought about his stomach, but now that he did, it growled slightly. Just being mentioned made it remember. Con nodded, “Yeah. Eating sounds good.” Maybe the food wouldn’t be too terrible. Although the robots probably had terrible palates with all their genetic modifications. The food was probably bland. Oh well, food was food. And Con loved food. And he loved free food most of all, so this sounded ideal to him. Come to the Upperworld. Don’t get shot. Get some free food. Learn some new things. See the sun. Go back home with a full stomach. Sounded great.
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Post by smartblondie on Sept 13, 2013 14:16:35 GMT -10
Nona wasn't sure she was following what he meant about having duller suns, and a bunch of them to light the whole world...that seemed remarkable. They must have a lot of solar-run things. With just one sun the Upperworld was already using about 50% solar energy to power everything, as just one of their clean power sources. That must be useful, to have so many. "I see." she finally replied, deciding she ought to say /something/, even if she was still puzzled on this note. She made a face at his quip about knowing what candles were, and shook her head, unsure if this was a joke. Well, she supposed candles did give off a little glow, but how could they be used to light a whole house? "I didn't mean...oh, never mind." she waved off the subject, deciding it wasn't worth it. There were better questions than that.
Nona flinched back at his forceful tone, a bit startled. He was quite adamant about what would happen, but she couldn't believe it. That was what savages did. Violence, ugh, it made her shudder. She'd never seen anyone up here deal with problems past a verbal argument. Still, he was quite sure about his point, and seemed ready to really get into a fight about it, which seemed counter-productive. She really wanted to know why he didn't run back to his home if that was true. If he was concerned about getting killed, why would he risk it at all? She crossed her arms uncomfortably, but decided against arguing with him about this, lest he get fed up and act any more erratically.
Con seemed to understand what she told him about their house, which was good, because Nona didn't really know how else to explain things. All of this seemed so common, so mundane to her. She didn't often ask herself why things were the way they were. She just accepted that. Still, where he understood (?) about her home, he seemed puzzled about what she said about her brother. She waited for him to think through her words before he asked a question, and she scratched her chin. "Well, there are some all over the place, but I assume you mean which he attends. It's in a city...oh, maybe 70 miles away. Not so far, but it's a great facility, and this way he can visit home for holidays. I think he really likes being independent though." she chuckled mildly, flinging an arm out to point at a picture of him as they passed it. The walls were all (or mostly) decorated with unique pieces of art or of pictures of the family, mostly full group shots but a few of just herself or her brother.
It was only a bit relieving to see the lighter shade of skin on his feet. So that was what he looked like under the filth. He probably wouldn't appreciate her pointing it out, so she kept her lips sealed. As they went into her room, after gesturing broadly around in a welcome gesture, she looked back to find Con crouched down on the floor, petting the ground. "Are you okay?" she asked slowly, not sure what he was doing. He finally stood and stated that he liked it, and she took a few moments to guess he must mean her carpet. "Oh, uh, yeah, I guess it's nice. Comfy." she said agreeably, wiggling her toes.
As Nona sat down and watched, her guest explored each little part of her room, with an almost childlike amazement. She grinned as he stared at his reflection, like it was the first time he'd seen himself. Maybe now he'd understand what she meant about his hygiene. He tore his gaze away to skim over her dresser, and then he walked as if in a daze to stare out her window. She wasn't sure what he was staring at out there, but he eventually pulled himself away, looking mildly unsettled. She raised her brows as he finally spoke, pointing at her twinkle lights. She beamed, nodding at the common ground they seemed to almost have found. It sort of skewed her theory from earlier, if he meant that the entire underworld was lit by lights like those. Still, at least it was something both places had. "Yeah? Well mine don't have to light anything but this room, and during the day I get plenty of natural light." she nodded at her window, to prove her point.
She smiled weakly at his answer, not sure he really got it. "Well, I meant what you do in free time. I mean, I do normal, people things. But those things aren't the same as what my friends do. It's like, what you like to do..." she tried to explain, not sure she really got the message across. Still, his next statement was even more puzzling. "Wha...you don't go to school anymore? How old are you?" she asked incredulously, sure he wasn't much older than her, but the way he spoke, he'd been out of school for awhile. His description wasn't very pleasant either. She struggled to picture it, but her prevailing image was her own school, which was large and well-funded, and very exclusive. Kids of good, political families typically went there, and everyone recognized them by their uniforms. White dresses, as she was wearing now, with a pale blue scarf, light gray shoes. Boys had light gray pants, white shirts, blue tie. It was recognizable and distinguished. Not boring or small or overcrowded in any definition, especially to a girl who was hungry for new knowledge.
Nona raised her brows high at his answer about his friends, a bit surprised. His friends didn't even know. He just chose it on a lark? Spontaneous? She'd never, well, never done anything fun or wild without planning. It had always seemed like a romantic notion. Still, this case was a bit more fight or flight impulse. Still, what an adventure to have. "Wow, okay. I guess I'm glad you made it to safety...?" she wasn't sure how to react to this situation at all, but figured that he'd get mad if she acted like anything crazy like this was a big deal. She remembered how he'd been about their debate on what happened to underworlders up here. Thankfully, he answered her offer positively, and she beamed at the chance to change topics. "Great, okay, sure." she chirped, standing and scrambling to her instant kitchen chute. Her parents didn't like food in bedrooms, but they allowed it when she had friends over, and if it was here, she thought she ought to use it. Plus, if she went downstairs to get food, he might vanish. She didn't want to take her eyes off of him. She frowned, not sure what he'd like, and decided to go with something classic and simple. Tapping the screen rapidly, she requested a plate of fruit, two slices of pizza--plain cheese, and two waters. "One moment. Please hold as food is prepared." the little tinny voice told her, and she clicked her nails on the wall impatiently, grinning as it beeped. She opened the little compartment,taking out the food first. She handed him both slices of pizza, putting the fruit on one of her side tables, and pulling out the water bottles. "In case you get thirsty." she explained as she put it beside the plate, sipping her own drink. "Eat up, it's good. A little old-fashioned, but it's still a classic. Some things never go out of style." she chuckled, sitting back down.
The two got to talk for an hour more before her parents returned. They were halting, timid, unsure, and each question led to a plethora of new questions. Where, how, why, what? Nona felt more confused than she had before about the elusive underground. Still, her eyes widened as she heard the door open, heard her parents voices boisterously laughing and joking. Must've gone well. "My parents are home." she whispered, as if they were standing with an ear to the door. "Nona? Sweetie?" her mother called, making her leap to her feet and scramble around a bit. "Uh...uhh...uh oh. Quick, you should..." her hands fluttered helplessly as she heard footsteps on the stairs, and she tugged Con to his feet, and for a few frozen moments, the two just gaped at each other, neither really knowing what to do. Her father knocked at her door and Nona shoved Con over her bed, bumping around, and into her closet as fast as she could, whispering a quick, "Sorry, hide here!" before closing the door just as her father opened the bedroom door. "Nona, really. Didn't you hear your mother calling you?" he asked impatiently, giving her a scolding look. She gave him a weak smile and laughed lightly. "Ah, yeah, sorry, I was just...uh, distracted." she explained nervously, trying to smooth her hair and stop fidgeting. He smiled, evidently accepting this, but his eyes still looked puzzled. "That's fine, sweetie. Just answer next time, okay?" he gave her a concerned look and drew closer. "Make sure you get enough sleep, Nona. You look a little strained. School was good today?" he asked, sitting on the end of her bed as if to start a deep bonding conversation. She blushed and shrugged, nodding slowly. "Yeah, yeah, it's great, very...educating." she said, giggling. He chuckled and tweaked her nose, standing again.
"Well, we'll get into it at dinner, since I have to make several calls, but the meeting went very well." he boasted, making her grin supportively. "That's great, Daddy. Congratulations." she praised, squeezing his arm. He beamed and nodded, moving--thankfully--to the door. "Yes, it was a good idea to do this." he agreed, seeming distracted, and allowed himself to be ushered out of her room. Just as she was closing her door, he stopped her. "Wait, Nona, there is one other odd thing I wanted to ask you about..." he said, snapping. Her eyes widened as round as dinner plates and she shifted uncomfortably. "Yes...?" she asked haltingly. He gave her a disproving look, and she was sure they were caught when he said, "Don't just turn off the AI when you get tired of listening to it, Nona. You had a missed call, since you did that, and your mother and I were quite confused when we got home and it was silent." he said finally, making her chuckle in relief. "Oh, right. Sorry, Daddy, I won't do it again. Who called?" she asked, to draw attention away from the oddity of her behavior. Her father rubbed his chin before answering. "Oh, the Taylor boy, Callum. Left a short message, said something about wanting to know if you were still lonely or something." he said, shrugging. Nona made a face before nodding, trying not to blush when he said, "I think he must be sweet on you, dear. Better keep an eye on that boy." he winked and laughed and she managed a weak giggle as she finally closed the door completely. Waited. Footsteps away from her room. She released a breath she hadn't realized she was holding, and pressed her back against the door, closing her eyes. That had felt scary close. After a few moments, she walked to the door of her closet and called softly, "It's okay to come out."
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Post by elise13 on Sept 14, 2013 6:47:32 GMT -10
Nona did not exactly answer Con’s questions about the University thing. She said there were several of them. Did they name their cities with repetitive names? Then she said that it was a great facility. That made it sound less like a city and more like a building. Conrad suddenly understood, University was the building her brother worked in. And it was in a city. That made much more sense. That was there might be several buildings called University in different cities. But they all did the same thing. Maybe that was where everyone went to be healed. Instead of the healers coming to them, they went to the healers. Interesting. That was a nice way to run things, Conrad supposed.
Con peered at the pictures on the wall for a moment, those were intriguing. Con couldn’t remember the last time he saw paintings, let alone ones this nice. They were so accurate. Well, at least the ones of Nona were. Con had never seen the rest of her family to compare the paintings to. And he probably never would, considering they might be a little more willing to call the police on him than Nona was.
Con looked from the lights to the window. Their light really was pretty amazing. It was bright enough to light inside of the house as well as the outside. It must be a shock for these people when it was turned off at night. It was pitch black at home at night, of course, but it was not this bright during the day, so the shift was not as much of a shock to them. Going from this brightness to pure black must take some adjusting to. Conrad wondered if he would be able to stay long enough to see the switch. Although it might be pushing his luck to stay too long. He ought to go back home while it was convenient. But there was just so much he wanted to know.
Con pondered the question about free time, plopping down on the floor to think. He considered all of his time to be free, since he was not locked up or anything. Maybe she was asking what his job was. Because she said something about it being different than what her friends did. Con answered, “’M a pickpocket most days. Sometimes help with the carpenters. Building things. Is that what you mean? Still don’t quite know what you’re getting at.”
Con was a bit irritated as she brought up school again. He scoffed, “Course not. ‘M not a kid anymore. ‘M 17. Don’t mean that /you’re/ still in school, do you? Haven’t you learned to read and write yet?” Maybe she really was slow. He had thought she was just a little slow on picking up new information, but not being able to read or write so she could finish school, that was sad. Con had never met anyone who hadn’t finished school by the time they were as old as her. She had to be about his age. Maybe a year or two younger, but certainly not young enough to be in school. She really needed extra help if she could not finish by now. Or just accept that she could not read and move on with her life. Become a painter like her mother.
Conrad was just glad to talk about food. She walked to the side of the room, and Con pulled himself up to follow her. She tapped at something on the wall, which then spoke. The wall was speaking. Again. Though this voice was smaller than the first voice. Less frightening, so Con did not feel compelled to hide at all. Con was a bit impressed with her control over all of this technology. It made her seem so powerful. And it was especially impressive for someone who was still stuck in school. How did she manage to do all of this complex stuff when she could scarcely do things young children could manage.
After a beep, Nona pulled food out of something in the wall. She just pulled food out. She didn’t even have to make it. Con glanced in the compartment, wondering if they had tiny servants in their to prepare food. Then it occurred to Conrad that the servants were downstairs and had just sent the food up with some pulleys. That made much more sense. Tiny servants, what had even made him think that. That was impossible, even for the robotic Upperworlders.
Con had the sense of manners to say thank you when she handed him the food. He examined it. Triangular. Interesting. Con pushed the two pieces together. Oh, they were clearly cut out of a big circle. This was just part of the whole thing. He poked at it, it was hot, nearly burning his finger. Con pulled his finger away, sucking on it. His finger was delicious. Some of the food had gotten on his finger in that moment. Con gaped at the food, if just a bit of this was delicious, then the whole portion. Well.
Con took a large bite out of the pizza, somehow knowing to start at the smallest tip. He beamed, not even stopping to swallow, “Love this. What is it? Best thing ‘ve ever had.” Con took another bite, enjoying its delicious gooeyness.
The whole session with Nona was rather interesting. She asked an awful lot of questions, but Conrad had plenty of his own. They did a decent job of asking questions and answering them. Nona, for as thick as she was about some questions, did manage to answer most of his questions decently. Although a lot of the time he had to tell her she wasn’t answering the question. She was just saying words that made no sense when strung together. Then she had to re-explain herself a bit. Though Con had to repeat himself on occasions to, so it was equal in that way. Con learned a lot though. But was pretty confused, despite knowing a lot about the Upperworld.
And suddenly, other people were home. Con’s heart seized. He was going to die. The police were there. He should have gone while he had the chance. Con didn’t want to die like this. But then he heard the laughing. Right, it was not the police. Something else. Nona whispered that it was her parents. Well, he wouldn’t be shot right away then, but he only had a matter of minutes. Nona seemed concerned about them too.
They just stared at each other. They didn’t know what to do. Part of Con understood that he couldn’t just stand there. That he needed to move. But he could not get the message to his feet. Move, he thought. But he just gaped.
Then it was all a blur. Nona shoved him hurriedly over her bed and into a closet. Con quietly made a few noises of argument, but was otherwise silent as he was hurled inside.
Con froze. This was terrible. He almost burst back out of the closet, not caring if he spoiled his hiding place. It was very white in here. Even without light, it was bright. He could feel the clothes’ fluffiness against his arms. It was not that Con was claustrophobic, just afraid of being crammed with all of Nona’s clothes and left to rot.
Through the door, Con could hear voices. Nona congratulating her dad. Her dad saying something that she ought not to do any more. Words about a boy named Callum. Who was sweet on Nona, apparently. Con was uncomfortable listening in. And his position didn’t help that. He was almost embarrassed for Nona to have him overhear. Almost.
There was silence for a few moments. It sounded like the father was gone, but Con daren’t move from his spot. Just in case.
Then Nona’s voice came. Telling him he could get out. Con practically threw himself from the closet. He was not hiding in there again. Ever. He didn’t care if he had to go under the bed instead next time, but he would not be going in that closet of fluffiness and femininity again. Hopefully, ever.
Con realized something. He could not leave now. Her parents were home. If he tried to slip out, he would surely be seen. Why hadn’t he thought of this sooner? He should have left before they arrived. Now he would have to stay. He couldn’t just run back to safety at any moment. He had to wait for an opportunity now. And who knew when that would come next.
Con told Nona, “Close one. Don’t like the closet though.” He shuffled away from the closet a bit uncomfortably, shutting the door quickly. Con added, “Can’t leave now anymore. Parents’ll see.” He gestured at the door vaguely, as if that would help explain his point.
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Post by smartblondie on Sept 14, 2013 10:13:43 GMT -10
Nona frowned at his eventual answer. Pickpocket? What did that even mean? Was it slang for something? Did it mean he made clothes, and put pockets in things? That seemed like very odd job. He also said he helped carpenters, which she knew was building things. He liked architecture? That was something, she guessed. "What's a pickpocket?" she asked finally, drawing a blank. She'd never heard of anyone famous for that up here, so maybe it was a very uncommon pastime, or something they only did underground. "Is it a sport?" she asked, scratching her forehead.
He seemed annoyed about her asking about school, but she was speechless. "Of course I'm still in school!" she said indigently, making a hurt face when he asked if she didn't know how to read and write. "I didn't mean primary school, silly! Don't you all learn anything more than those basics? That would mean only little kids went to school." she gave him a disbelieving look. "We go to school until we're 18 here, and then we have the choice to go on and study something specific." she said, crossing her arms. "How can you possibly learn everything in just those few years? I mean, I've heard of kid prodigies but it took me until I was 16 to really even think about calculus." she mused, giving him a suspicious look. Maybe he was teasing her. Or maybe down there they only went to school for the very basics. But how could anyone do any actual career? They wouldn't have the knowledge to do anything!
Deciding Con would be offended if she suggested that he and his people were surely neanderthals, she didn't voice her concerns, and just grinned as he tested the pizza, devouring it like an animal after discovering it was good. "You like it?" she laughed, feeling like she was watching a child take it's first steps or something. It was remarkable, seeing someone discover something that made them so happy. "I'm glad. It's, I mean, it's pizza. Must be very sad down there if you don't even have that. People made pizza since before the world split." she stated knowledgeably, shrugging. "I suppose it is pretty good." she agreed, not having had pizza since she was younger. These days her parents didn't let her eat much junk food.
Nona twirled a piece of hair as Con burst out, mentally slamming her head against a wall. How humiliating, that her dad though there was something with Cal. Still, better he think that than know that she had made an odd call to Cal earlier. Yes, this was safer. Con looked quite relieved to be free, and she wondered what was so bad about hiding. Maybe he was just scared. Funny, she didn't really think he was a guy who was scared of anything or anyone. He was so confident in himself, it seemed. He surely wasn't afraid of her. Admittedly, she was smaller than him, but she was still foreign.
"Too close." she agreed breathlessly, wiping a nonexistent bead of sweat from her brow. She grinned and looked at him quizzically. "What's wrong with my closet?" she asked defensively, face falling at the brown smudges left on her door. "You're right, there's no way you can get out now. Well, you can still stay here, of course. We have to be real careful. You could maybe sneak out early in the morning?" she sighed and looked around her light room. "Con, I don't want to offend you, but everything you touch leaves evidence." she stated simply, gesturing to the smudges he'd planted all around her room. "There's no way you can stay here like that. C'mon." she grabbed his hand to make sure he followed and pulled him to the bathroom, starting the water in her bath. "Look, I don't want to have to force you to clean up, but I will if I must." she said in a confident tone, as if challenging him. She didn't really expect to overpower him, but maybe he would think she had some futuristic helper up her sleeve. "I can get you something more comfortable to sleep in too, though it's still pretty early." she offered, wondering if her parents would notice if some of her brother's clothes disappeared. Probably not. Pouring in some cherry blossom bath beads, the water became foamy, and and clapped her hands. "Please?"
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Post by elise13 on Sept 17, 2013 11:34:47 GMT -10
Con laughed at her questions about pick-pocketing, but managed to keep from guffawing about it. So it was really just a snicker. Just the thought of it being a sport was so funny. Though, if it were a sport, Con would be the champion of it. How could she not know what pickpocketing was? Hadn’t she ever lost something to a pickpocket before? Maybe because her dresses didn’t have pockets she just didn’t know what happened when people had possessions in their pockets. Or maybe no one picked pockets up here. Because they were too robotic to be innovative enough to properly pick pockets. That was probably it. They were much too stiff and dull to think of a way to make such easy money.
Conrad explained, “Pickpocketing is when you pick things out of pockets. Money and watches and things.” He made a plucking motion with his hand to demonstrate what he meant. Con then pulled the purse out of his pocket. It was still full. He held it in the palm of his hand, showing it to the girl, “Got this today. And some more, but this is the most for today.” Conrad was ready to snatch the purse away if the girl tried to take his spoils. She would be too slow to get it from his hands before he pulled away. It was amazing how slow the robots could be. Con added, “’M the best at it.”
Con made little noises of discontent as she spoke. She was rather upset about the school thing. Maybe it was because he had implied that she was stupid. Which she would be if she could not read or write. Con was just glad that she was not so thick as to not be able to do such basic tasks. It would have been a shame to meet such a completely dim-witted robot.
Con said, “Yeah. Only little kids to go school. No point in being in school your whole life. Can’t imagine still sitting in school at my age.” Wasn’t that much too old, even for the robots? Didn’t they have more important things to do than gather their kids and make them do writing exercises. Although, she did mention something called calculus, which Con was certain was a word she was inventing to trick him. To see if he was paying attention. Well, he was, and he certainly was not a fool. Con said, “Is calculus some fancy hard book or something?” Honestly, why would it be so important to stay in school just to learn how to read some difficult book. That seemed like a huge waste of time and effort to Conrad. After all, if it was too hard to read after learning how to read, then it was not worth all the work to learn to read it. It should just be simplified or not bothered with at all.
Con said around a bit of pizza, “Yeah. Good.” He could not express how much he liked this food. He had nerve even had something similar to this. In fact, Con didn’t even remember eating something red that tasted like this pizza thing. Or the texture of its crust. It was unlike pie or the hardened film around soup that’s been left out too long. It was delicious on its own. And cheese. Conrad had had cheese before. He quite liked cheese. But this cheese was unlike anything he had ever tasted. It was soft and gooey, with long strings stretching between his mouth and the pizza left behind for the next bit. Con could not believe the robots had something as delicious as this. This would be a hit at home. Everyone would love it. Maybe Con could learn how to make it and steal the supplies for it from the next round of rations that were sent down. Con told her, “Not sad without it. But would be better with it. What’s this red on there?” When she said that pizza was made before the world split, it made complete sense to Con. The robots could never think of something this brilliant by themselves. No way. But it made sense that it had been invented when the Undergrounders were still allowed to mingle in the Upperworld. Or before all the genetic modifications came about, Conrad supposed.
Con told her, “Small and fluffy and white. Weird to be shoved in.” He shrugged, attempting to look nonchalant. He was in no way afraid of her closet, and he wanted that to be clear. He just had no desire to go back into that space again. But he was not afraid of such a silly thing as her girly little closet.
Con nodded, thinking on her plan. It would be easy enough to slip out while their light was still switched off and while everyone was still asleep. Then he could go back home and be back in time to pick some pockets in the morning rush and have a hearty meal with the boys. And tell them all about what he saw. And how he, Con, was the first Undergrounder to make it back without being shot. Provided, of course, that he made it back before he got shot at. But of course he would. He had made it so far, so what was to say that his luck would not carry him back home?
Con was interrupted when Nona started pulling on him. Something about how he left evidence everywhere. He glanced towards the room, he supposed there were some brown marks from where he had touched things. But who was going to notice such small marks? Although, against the white they were a bit more obvious than they might have been if he were Underground, where everything always had a few dirt smudges.
Con was momentarily awed by the bathroom. It was so clean. And her tub poured water in itself. He gaped. She didn’t have to fetch any water from a well. That was amazing. And her tub was made of something white, not wood or even clay. And it poured water in itself. How was that even possible? There was no way anyone could manage such a feat. That was defying gravity and Con was pretty sure the robots up here hardly had that power.
But he had no time to gape at everything. She was trying to get him to clean off for no reason. If he was only staying the night, why should he have to wash up? Surely no one was going to notice such little traces of his body. Were they? Con supposed the Upperworlders were probably scared of dirt. That was why they swept it all away. And maybe Nona was frightened by how dirty he was, so she was trying to act like she had another reason for him to wash up. She was actually afraid, but was trying to be brave. That seemed like a lot of emotions for a robot though, so he might have been mistaken. It seemed incorrect for the robots to feel anything, let alone fear. Either way, Con really did not want to have to bathe for no reason.
Con crossed his arms. She would force him if she must, she said. That little girl? Honestly, he was not a fool just because he didn’t go to school anymore as she did. Unless she had that weird voice that came from nowhere make him. That was horrifying to think of. Con said defiantly, “Think it’s stupid to. ‘M just saying the night. Who’s going to see me?” Con met her gaze, slightly challenging her authority- or lack thereof.
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Post by smartblondie on Oct 3, 2013 14:42:40 GMT -10
Nona was still quite puzzled about this pickpocket game, and she wanted to know how he knew who was playing. Wasn't it taking a risk, picking someone random to try and be sneaky and take stuff from? What if he was wrong, and took something from someone innocent? And when did they give everything back? But she sort of thought Con would laugh at her or be annoyed at her questions, so she just frowned and nodded, as if she understood.
On the topic of school, Con didn't seem impressed or very humbled by the upperworld's superior education system. Well, perhaps she could chalk that up to his painfully short time at school. Still, asking if calculus was a book? "Well, I guess there are books about calculus..." she trailed off, not entirely sure how she could explain calculus. Especially if he hadn't even heard of the word. "It's a more tricky type of math, you know." she offered, feeling like she should give up this moot point. He obviously didn't value education, but she couldn't see how anyone could just stop trying to learn as a child. Even now, as nearly an adult, she still had so much to learn about at classes.
Nona had to giggle at Con's obvious pleasure in eating the pizza. It was like watching a rare animal poke it's head out of a shell to taste something new. She shrugged at his words, thinking that this underground couldn't be very nice. No sun, no school, no pizza...and perhaps no showers, if she had to wager a guess. "Ah, that's tomato sauce." she said, not sure how someone couldn't know that. Even if he'd never had pizza before...hadn't he had a tomato? She didn't dare even ask.
Nona wasn't sure she got why Con was so unnerved by her closet, since she'd just cleaned it, but she figured he was suffering massive culture shock. In any case, as the bath finished filling, and a sweet fragrance filled the bathroom, Con and Nona stared each other down, stuck in a sort of impasse. He'd called her on her lack of an advantage, though he might not know it. But before she could tell him how noticeble any flaw was in a house like this, there was /another/ knock at her door. "Nona? Dear, I'm coming in!" her mother's voice now, and the sound of the doorknob turning. "I'm in the bath, mom!" she yelped, pushing the door so that it was nearly shut. "Oh, okay dear. I've just got a little question." her mother didn't take the cue Nona offered, and Nona had 3 seconds to make /another/ hasty decision.
She lunged towards Con and shoved him into the bath, herself jumping in right after. The surface of the water was covered with bubbles, and Nona sunk down deep enough so only her head was visible, to hide her clothes. She pushed Con down as gently as she could to get him invisible, silently pleased that somehow this had worked out to get him in the bath. Not that this was a good situation. Her mother poked her head in, giving her an apologetic smile. "Sorry to bug you, sweetie, but I found something odd. Do you know what these are?" Nona had to pinch herself to keep from shrieking as her mother held up Con's boots in her fingers distastefully. Eyes wide, Nona laughed nervously. "Oh, uh, yeah those...art project." she stammered awkwardly, her nose wrinkling at this weak answer. "I mean, that's some arty thing that Julian made me in his classes. To...to..thank me for tutoring." she clarified, adapting her story. In fact, the little boy she'd tutored /did/ give her a little gift as thanks: a little bouquet he'd picked, per his mother's suggestion. Still, this might work. Her mother looked puzzled and mildly disturbed. "What an odd gift. I suppose it was just timing that made him choose such a...dirty looking gift." she mused, not looking convinced. Nona nodded like a bobblehead, smiling wanly until her mother finally slipped out, saying they'd talk later. Letting Con come up for air, Nona exhaled loudly, standing up and climbing carefully out of the bath. "I'm soaked. But I think she might've bought it." Nona said simply, grabbing a fluffy towel and walking to the bathroom door. "I'll leave you to finish your business, and bring you some pajamas of my brother's." she told him, slipping out and closing the door quickly before Con could protest.
-several hours later-
This entire day had been incredibly taxing and Nona was about to pass out while still standing up. She was finally about to climb into bed and just pass out, and her unexpected guest was probably equally exhausted. Nona had jumped between dinner and conversation with her parents and curious questions with Con, and now she jumped into bed, pulling the covers around her. "It's late. Sleep, and I have an alarm set for early, so we can get up when you have the best time to go." she told him, patting the empty other half of her bed invitingly. She could see several missed call icons flashing on her notification tablet, and she knew it was Cal. He'd sent her several messages, bugging her about why she'd called and why she was now ignoring him. Once the call had been accidentally picked up and Nona had been afraid that Cal might've heard Con's voice before she cancelled the call, but in the hours after it, no one came and busted down her door.
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"Are you sure? How could this be?"
"This is her room, sirs. I knew something was wrong. She wouldn't answer me, and I was worried about her."
"You say you found these in your home when you arrived, ma'am?"
"Yes, sir. My daughter said-"
"She must be being threatened, forced to cover for this fugitive."
"Threatened!?"
"Will she be okay?"
"If my daughter is hurt, I'll be sure that you all don't work anything above serving food again, get it?!"
"Sir, calm down. Your daughter will be okay. We are well-trained and in cases like this, the criminal will likely get so overwhelmed he'll be an easy takedown."
"You'll kill him? In front of Nona. We're just kids, and she's sensitive, you shouldn't-"
"Boy, we will do what we need to to protect society. You called in the alert, now don't try and interfere."
Nona's eyes started to open as voices outside her room started to get loud enough to filter in, but only when her door swung open did she realize something horrible had gone long. Her parents, Callum, and two strangers in uniforms, and they started all shouting at once. And then, as Nona struggled to make sense of things, the alarm clock started to blare.
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Mischief Managed!
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Aug 31, 2022 13:10:16 GMT -10
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Post by elise13 on Oct 3, 2013 17:36:26 GMT -10
Con’s blood ran cold when he heard the voice through the door. At first, he thought it was the house’s voice, coming to threaten him for disobeying Nona. But then he realized it was Nona’s mother. Just as frightening, in a way. And she was not going to be sent away by Nona’s words. Before Con could think of a place to hide or something to do, Nona pushed him- with what must have been all of her strength- into the bath.
Con scrambled, barely gasping in a breath before his head went under. He forgot to shut his eyes though, the soap immediately stinging. His eyes would be streaming tears if he weren’t already half-drowning in the water. Con clamped his eyes shut, straining to keep his breath, wits, and to hear the conversation above.
Thankfully, Nona had had the decency not to put her bum on top of his head. Instead, he was somewhat curled up at the bottom of the tub, his head near Nona’s legs. He heard something about an art project, but not much else. His concentration was ruined by the sound of his blood pounding in his ears. A breath begging to escape. He could not hold out much longer. Why did her parents have to barge in so much? It was almost as if they thought their daughter was up to no good.
Finally, Nona stepped out. It was safe for Con to come up for air. And even if it weren’t Con was pretty sure he was not going to make it much longer in that bath.
Con’s head shot up first, bubbles flying in the air, displaced by his sudden movement. Con coughed for breath, gasping for new air. He had a few words for her. Most of them revolving around how she was trying to kill him. But as he rubbed the soap from his eyes, trying to regain the ability to speak, she left, telling him to clean up.
Well, at this point, his clothes were soaked, there was no way he could wear them now. And she would never let him in new clothes until he cleaned off. Con sighed, resigned to the fact that he would have to wash up as she told him.
Once he was cleaner than he had ever been in his life, he was pretty sure, Con put on the pajamas offered by Nona. They were so soft, it was almost strange to be wearing them. Were all Upperworld fabrics so soft and impractical?
Con yawned, he was tired. The day had been rather exhausting. And he was definitely up later than usual. Not that he was any loser who went to bed after the lights were dimmed, but he certainly didn’t stay up until the wee hours of the morning either. Con had been so busy that he hadn’t even noticed the lights turn out here, and he was rather disappointed he hadn’t noted the transition. How had he not noticed it suddenly snap from light to dark? Surely that was something even the most idiotic of Upperlanders couldn’t miss. Well, maybe he would be up in time to see the lights be turned on.
Con looked skeptically at the place Nona offered him on the bed. Together? Certainly that was wrong by Upperworlder standards too. But the look on her face didn’t seem to say that. She seemed to think it was perfectly normal. And Con didn’t want to pass up the chance to sleep in an Upperworlder bed. Con sighed, “Kay.” He plopped in the bed next to her, amazed by the softness of her blankets next. But the soft blankets quickly lulled him into a deep sleep, leaving his fascinations for the next day.
---The morning---
A door opening.
Shouting.
Lots of shouting.
And a blaring noise.
An alarm.
What was going on?
Con awoke at the exact moment the door opened, aroused from his sleep by the noise. He was so startled by the sound, so unawake he could not comprehend what was going on. All he understood was noise.
Then the fear came. It coursed through his body, freezing him in place for a matter of milliseconds. They had found him. They were going to shoot him. This was to be his end. He had known it would only be a matter of time before they found him to shoot him. But he had hoped. After making it through the darkness of the night…that he would make it. That he might just get home. That he might be the one person to make it back alive. He would revel everyone with his stories of the Upperworld. And how brave he had been. How he had nearly died.
Although now it seemed that he would die. And his stories would end with his body being tossed back to the Underground. It was enough to almost, almost bring tears to his eyes.
But Con realized that it wasn’t his time to die. Or rather, he decided he was not going to die. They could not catch him. They hardly had him surrounded. And they were cramming themselves through one small door. And there was a kid with them. Con’s age. He was shouting with the others. Nona’s parents too. Why were all these people involved? Especially if all of them weren’t going to hold guns.
Then Conrad pieced everything together. The alarm Nona had mentioned. He hadn’t questioned it at the time, but now that he heard the noise, he understood. She had set it up to warn everyone else. And she had waited until morning to warn them so he would be lulled into security. And he would be safely asleep. Why she didn’t have them shoot him in his sleep was beyond him. Maybe she didn’t want blood on all the white in her room.
Con screamed, “You set me up! Liar!” But this was not the time for yelling. He was going to get shot if he didn’t watch it. Con threw himself from the bed, yanking Nona with him. He stood on his feet, dragging Nona in front of him. They wouldn’t dare shoot her. So they couldn’t shoot him without hitting her. Perfect. Brilliant in fact. Of course, it was brilliant. Con had thought of it after all.
Con only had to duck his stature slightly for Nona to completely defend all of his body. For once he was grateful for his slight build. Actually, not for once. The only time he was really not appreciative of this gift was when someone bigger than him yanked him off his feet, leaving him powerless to get down. Other than that, his height was mostly advantageous. He was a thief.
Speaking of thievery, Con ought to steal out of there before someone tried to sneak around behind him. Or before they decided it was worth it to kill Nona to get to him.
Con glanced around the room. They were blocking the door. That was one exit out. The window was left. But they were on the second story. That fall could break them. But Con thought he ought to be able to slow their fall if he was careful about how he left the window. And “their”…somehow, he had decided that he would be taking Nona. That way they would be less tempted to shoot at him. If he had a hostage. Brilliant. And that would show her for setting him up.
Con backed towards the window, clearly holding Nona in a way that said, ‘Careful. I have a hostage.’ The men looked perplexed, but they didn’t shoot. One suddenly lunged forward, clearly realizing Conrad’s brilliant plan. Pity.
Con took the final step, dragging them both over the windowsill and through the window in one swift motion. He quickly grabbed at the side of the house with the hand that wasn’t on Nona’s arm.
The plan did not go as well as he had hoped. He had slowed their fall slightly be grabbing on to the house, but he could hardly support both of their weights, so they fell in quick bursts, landing on the ground rather suddenly. Con’s hand ached from grabbing at the house. But nothing was broken. Well, maybe a rib bruised, but nothing he hadn’t gotten from a well-aimed punch before. That was pretty lucky.
Con staggered quickly to his feet, forcing Nona up with him. He didn’t care if she was hurt. She was going to deal with it. Con ran for the hole at the side of her house. The hole he had come up through. He would just jump down and leave her behind. Then she would have all the time to mope about how the boy she had so “cleverly” set up had escaped. And Con would be safe Underground to tell his tales and pick pockets.
But when he rounded the corner, he realized the flaw. There were men. Lots of men surrounding the hole. Guarding it, in fact. Con swore. The men saw him too, one immediately raised his gun. They had to haul out of there.
Adjusting his grip on Nona, Con sprinted away from the men, not caring where he ended up as long as it wasn’t shot.
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"Put that thing back where it came from or so help me!"
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Dec 5, 2020 9:20:08 GMT -10
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Post by smartblondie on Oct 27, 2013 14:50:42 GMT -10
Nona yelped in surprise when Con shouted at her, feeling sluggish and sleepy. "What?! No, no, I promise!" she cried, her head whipping between the group at her door and Con. This was bad. Did those guys have guns?! Had Con been right earlier? "Hey!" she yelped as he tugged her down with him, stumbling a bit as she tried to find footing. His fingers dug into her arms and she couldn't slip free. He really was a savage! She should've known not to trust him. "Nona!" "Get your hands off of her, you!" her parents were yelling and the two armed men with them were glaring at Con, unsure of how to stop him. Nona's eyes caught Cal's, and she could see pure terror in his eyes, but before she could say a word, one guard lunged for them. Before his hands could land, Con yanked her back towards her window, and before she could ask him if he was crazy, they were flying out the window.
A shriek tore from her throat as they fell, in short, heart-stopping bursts. The final impact with the ground knocked the air out of her, and she had to suck in breaths carefully, trying to figure out how she could escape. "Hey, lemme go, stoppit! You're hurting me!" she cried as Con pulled her up to her feet, tugging her along with him. "Are you crazy? Let me go!" she demanded, stumbling as he pulled her along. They were going towards where she'd found him, and she guessed he might be trying to go back home. Well, why bring her? They stopped as the patrols saw them, and just like that they started sprinting in the other direction. "Stop, do you plan on just using me as a shield for the rest of our lives?" she panted as they ran, wishing she had shoes or a coat or something more than her pajamas.
They stopped when they couldn't see anyone anymore, hidden several houses away behind a large shrubbery garden. "What exactly is your plan now, you oaf? The next opening to your world is miles away, in the next city, and you'll never get through the one near my house now." she snapped as she caught her breath, narrowing her eyes. "Look, I think everyone got a little...carried away. Maybe if you let me go, we can go back, take it down a notch." she continued reasonably, but there was an off-putting glimmer in his eyes. Instead of agreeing, he asked her more about the next city over, and her heart began to sink. "You can't be seriously thinking about going there. Don't you know how hard it'll be to get there? And with a bunch of feds on your tail? You're mad. At least let me go..." she pleaded, wondering if she'd make it if she made a break for it. Maybe she should start screaming, get the attention of the people inside the houses.
About 2 hours later, Nona found herself inexplicably being tugged along to lead the way to Belfont, the city that was approximately 45 miles away, with several scattered towns stretching between here and there. This boy was absolutely crazy. And now she was stuck with him. "I didn't set you up, you know." she muttered defensively, pouting. They had spent a long time silent. He seemed to be brooding, and she'd just been in some state of shock. This could not be happening. Not 24 hours ago she'd been sitting in her living room sipping lemonade. She was so foolish, thinking that someone wild like him could actually be tame. But how could she be wrong for trusting someone? Maybe it just went to prove that the two worlds should never cross.
At this point, her feet were killing her and she was dying for something to drink. "You plan on getting there with nothing to help? You know, food, water, those things that people need to...I dunno, survive?!" she asked irritatedly, feeling cranky and tired. "This is just ridiculous. There'll be search parties out, and the longer you drag this out, the worse it'll get. You'll lose any shred of redemption." she tried, not sure how many times she could suggest he let her go. At least one more, she told herself. At least one more time.
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