Earth Kingdom :: Ba Sing Se - Lower Ring • Rubies & Diamonds

| Darin "Basil" |

Spoiler:

Date: Summer, 708 AO
Location: Ba Sing Se, a market in the Lower Ring
Occupation: Street performing

The sun traipsed along the horizon, reminding Darin that, once again, the day would soon be over, and he would have to retire someplace for the night.

He noted, abstractly, that the sweltering heat had made his soft skin darken and become tender. The nine-year-old ignored the sensation. Sunburns were commonplace in The Lower Ring. They afflicted children whose parents were too poor to afford sunscreen. A little burn did not compare to the complete and utter elation of a job well done.

The merchants were, altogether, far too loud for the youth's ears. Basil knew well enough most were lying about the authenticity of their wares, and would much rather have a handul of coins than help their customers with their problems. Basil was resting his feet. There was nothing more than a cardbaord platform protecting him from the baking groud. His feet were bare. His thick, dark hair was secured by a series of brown bands. A drop of sweat slipped in one red eye, reminding him to wipe his forehead. Once the soles of his feet no longer threatened to blister, Darin climbed to his feet. The limber child hoisted his flute over one shoulder, and initiated the harmonica, beginning the first phase of the evening.

(At midday he had stolen into a local parlor and feasted on ice cream, bread and cold water. Then he sat in the dust and polished his instruments. The sight of a young child working so dutifully called to the populace. Kindly women had offered assistance. Others kids were curious. As a plus, thieves and gang members let him be. To be fair, it had been too early and too hot for them to do much of anything. The young child had become slightly infamous in the Underworld. Be it in a positive or negative light, fame was no place for an assassin.)

Basil was in the middle of a inclination when, as a girl threw coins at his feet, he recognized a bedraggled crone somewhere in the crowd. Basil hurriedly but calmly ended his performance, bidding his spectators farewell. Sympathetic mothers asked where he was going to go - they had fed the story of him being an orphan very well and filled his pockets to the brim with coins and other trinkets - he had no home!

Basil informed them that he had enough to check into an inn for one night, thanks to their generosity. He kept a watchful crimson eye on the old crone, advancing towards him with each second. She was a bloodthirsty woman. Her children were part of a gang. She sold drugs. In Basil's opinion, she was less like a woman and more like a demon, and it was time for him to go.

Basil threw his pouch over his shoulder and padded away quickly. For an old person, the woman was moving alarmingly fast. She seemed quite aware that his young, limber legs far outmatched her brittle ones. Basil knew this as well, and broke into an all-out run.

When he was sure she was far behind, but also sure he was lost, Basil slowed his pace. The area he found himself in was desolate, some sort of dilapidated living area. It was old, but didn't seem overly dangerous either. The streets broke off into many alleyways and yards. Still, the ever-present Wall loomed in the distance, and Darin was cautious.

It was dark. The stars finally began to show. There were more stars on the Island, but Darin still felt glad seeing them.

So occupied was Darin was with the stars and the ever-increasing shadows, he did not notice another presence slumped by a wall. Zeroing in the the tiny, undoubtedly young child, it was obvious he or she was having trouble breathing. Dressed in typical Earth Nation clothes, designed to protect against the sun, the child's head was bowed and his breaths were laborious.

| Prince Roman |

Spoiler:

Silence. Was he going crazy? He thought he was going crazy. Big Brother Castiel and Big Brother Cassian had been with him and Big Sister Kihana, but Kihana saw a pastry vendor and couldn't resist talking to him, begging him for his sweets. And then the pastry vendor got mad and chased Kihana and him away and Kihana left. Kihana promised to find Castiel and Cassian, but Roman was getting hot. He was getting hot, so he tried to find somewhere to sit down. But as he was trying to find somewhere to sit down, people were bumping him! People dragged him along and he was finding it really hard to stay out of their way.

Then he got lost.

Petrified, Roman had felt his heart hammering in his chest. He had searched for Big Brother Castiel and Big Brother Cassian, but they eluded him so. And then the sounds and noise all blurred together and he had felt sick and hot and tired and couldn't move anymore so he had to rest.

Then the world got crazy.

People screamed and yelled and all the sudden he had been pulled to his feet and shoved away. He had fallen and hit his head. The bare skin on his stomach was quickly showered with dust, and his once-white harem pants and shawl. Screaming, he got up and ran. But he did not know how far he got when his chest seized up and he fell on his face again, hacking and coughing and his heart was beating like crazy and threatened to explode.

He was scared and thirsty. Roman started to cry. The pain in his chest was unbearable and he could not breathe. It was as if all the air around him had been sucked out. Someone was trying to strangle him. There was his father. His father's mad, crazy eyes were him. Choking him. Papa?

His clothes were too hot. Everything was hot. Roman grappled at the sweaty shawl, but he couldn't get it off. It was tied in a manner completely unfamiliar to him. His chest burned and his lungs rebelled on him. Roman picked himself up again and started stumbling. He screamed again. It seemed the sun wanted to bake him alive.

When Roman had found some safe shade, hours later, his face was soaked with tears. The agony in his chest had increased tenfold. His skin felt tender and burned to touch. Somehow he had found the strength to get here .. finally someplace quiet, as the dizziness washed over him and the nausea completed its cycle and forced him to empty his guts right outside someone's home.

For fear of being chased off again, Roman stumbled down a different street. He found another overhang and sat there, nursing his wounds and cradling his burning chest with an arm. He could no longer cry. The tears were not forthcoming, and his skin was dry and red. The small child was scared. He honestly believed he was going to die. He did not have his medicine!

Roman sniffled and tried to be very still and calm. The day slowly gave way. Sunset colored the world a thousand different, indistinguishable colors. A purple elf danced in front of him, inviting him to some dinner party across town. Roman tried to get to his feet, so that he may finally get something to drink, but the movement elicited the swing of a sledgehammer than planted itself directly on his skull.

Roman sat back down.

The pain in his chest was slowly ebbing, but he couldn't breathe. Each breath drew forth a sharp whistling, coupled with an almost animalistic gag. His head was throbbing. He couldn't see. Then he fell away into an expanse of light. He jumped when a hand was placed tightly on his shoulder, then his world swam. Another hand shot out to steady him as he lurched.

"Hey! Wake up!"

He was asleep? Roman slowly opened his eyes, blinking the crust of dried tears away. His chest labored. He could keep no breath longer than a second, resulting in swift, painful gasps. Roman's heart palpitated, making him jump. The little organ worked tirelessly, dangerously against his laboring lungs. Roman's head lolled lethargically over his shoulders. He could scarcely make out an individual above him, his vision was so blurry.

"What's wrong with you? Hey, how old are you?"

Roman could not answer. His world, this time, went completely dark.

Last edited by LadyKura on Thu Apr 12, 2012 12:07 am; edited 2 times in total

| Darin "Ba'sill" |

Spoiler:

[ERROR: Missing post I care not to replace, at least not for a while.]

| Prince Roman |

Spoiler:

Roman woke to yelling. And pain. A lot of yelling and pain. Someone was shaking him, grabbing him by the front of his robes, and their words were all garbled and angry. He couldn't breathe. Eventually the hands stopped shaking him. He fought for his breath, unconsciously grasping his chest, and he was able to fall asleep once more ..

He woke again, later. His awakening was abrupt, and left him somewhat disoriented. It was dark. Sitting up, the boy placed a tiny hand over his aching chest, and surveyed his surroundings.

He was in some room of some sort. There were two doors and a closet. The carpet was somewhat dirty but not too unkempt. There was a dresser next to the bed, where he found his turban. He wrinkled his nose, remembering how Cassian and Castiel forced him to wear the thing ..

His jerked suddenly, causing more pain than necessary to his chest, but he ignored it. His brothers! Where were they? He was supposed to be with them, he was sure. Kihana had come along, too. How did he end up here?

Bewildered, the child attempted to slip out of the bed, only for his efforts to end disastrously. Once his toes touched the floor, his weight multiplied tenfold and gravity seemed to as well. He collapsed -- not too heavily, considering his weight -- but he fell nontheless. In his fright, he'd yelped. And then he just lay there.

He didn't register another movement off the bed. He didn't notice the footsteps approaching his body. A dark shadow fell over him. "So you're finally awake."

Startled, Roman raised his eyes to meet a sharp crimson. Half the boy's face was gone, deep in the shadows of his hair. The other half was lit perhaps by moonlight, or some sharp streetlamp outside. This boy looked as if he'd been through a rough scrape. Cuts littered his face, most pressed with bandages. The rest of his body was covered by a brown, long-sleeved gown. His face was annoyed.

Roman fought to sit up, knowing that expression all too well.

"Do you know how long you've been asleep?" the boy ground out.

"N-no," Roman squeaked. He folded his arms around himself, but visibly flinched when the other boy took a step closer.

"Three fucking days." With this statement, the child's arm shot out, grabbing the front of Roman's robes, eliciting a cry of pain from the other boy. His face was mad. Bloodthirsty. Roman trembled, grappling at the hands that held him. "I've been through hell and back, just trying to keep you alive. There's posters of a boy that fits your description all over town. They're offering over a thousand dollars. Who the hell are you?"

"R-Ro ..." he said, softly. His voice was failing him. Everything hurt. It hurt to speak. He was so dizzy. The world faded. He fought to keep his eyes open, but all was null. He fainted within seconds, hanging limply in the other boy's grasp.

Distantly, he heard him curse.

| Darin "Ba'sill" |

Spoiler:

Ba'sill threw the other child down harshly, no longer caring about the boy's prior cardiac arrest. Potions were expensive. And the ones this child seemed to require nearly cost him an arm and a leg, quite literally. He'd had to use the rest of his 'scrapings' to purchase the child's medications, which he force-fed him over the days the boy remained unconscious. Because he spent more than half his profits on the marketers in town, he could no longer afford their stay at the hotel.

The days he'd allocated at the motel counter were spent up. The receptionist pitied him, but that was all she was: a receptionist. The manager had no qualms with beating the ever-loving hell out of the child whenever he came up short. Ba'Sill would grit his teeth, and toil for another day or so, always to come back to the same result: an angry manager, and a half-dead kid sprawled across his bed.

After the third day, posters of the boy began cropping up all over town. Basil knew it was the boy; very few kids had pale blue hair and such pale skin. The kid was obviously important; the prize for his safe return was hefty. It'd be more than enough to repay his debts and even buy Claudia a couple of those rubies necklaces she liked so much. Still, so fearful he'd be blamed for the boy's condition, Ba'Sill continued to try to nurse the boy, Roman apparently, back to health.

Now that he was aware of the kid's identity, Ba'Sill was fearful the manager would shift his actions to the other boy. He spent more time at the hotel.

After four days, the child, Roman, began to stir. The signs would be discreet, brief, at first: a twitch of the finger, a low moan, a flutter of the eyelash. The next day, Ba'Sill would leave early in the morning, an return by noon to find Roman in an entirely different spot from when he left. That night, wincing from his wounds, he woke to the sound of a sharp yelp and found the kid on the floor.

All the frustrations of the day solidified itself in the form of practically an outright physical assault. Gone was the concern over the kid's general well-being. Gone was the tiptoeing, the gentle touches, the careful monitoring, and uncertain ministrations. He raged. If it weren't for this stupid boy, he wouldn't be going through this hell! It was bad enough Claudia hadn't seen him in weeks; he missed her - but now he had his hands full with debt and some rich prissy little brat that decided it'd be a good idea to wander Ba Sing Se under the mid-afternoon sun.

But now, Roman was once again unconscious, and the cycle might have to start all over again. What bullshit. The kid had to be awake by tomorrow. He'd overstayed his welcome. And he didn't feel like toting the half-responsive child through a city raving with crime.

After checking to make sure his was, indeed, beating, and his breathing was regular save for a few halting gasps, Basil deposited Roman in the bed and climbed in himself. Sleep was fitful. Sleep was troubled. Morning couldn't come swift enough.

-

When Ba'Sill woke again, Roman was awake once more. He had the appearance of a frightened child, curled up where Ba'Sill had dropped him, eyes wide and uncertain. It seemed like he'd been too petrified to move from where he lay, which was just as satisfying to the sand boy's ego as it was utterly ridiculous in retrospective. He was only, at most, three years older than him. Why should anyone be afraid of someone that was practically their own age.

"Can you speak?" he grumbled, rising to check the sky. It was dawn. The stars were still visible. Normally, he would have been searching for people to con at this point, but he needed to get information out of Roman. He'd deduced that the faster he'd be rid of this boy, the better.

Roman nodded. It was a slight movement, one that barely tousled the long strands of pale blue atop his head.

"Then answer this: what's your name?" He already knew the answer, but confirmation from the source was always nice.

"Ro .. man." He seemed uncertain, as if he wasn't sure he should be telling Ba'Sill his name at all. The perfect attitude of a noble. A rich man.

A flourish of happiness swelled inside him, then. This was Roman Leiheng, the missing boy everyone was searching for. He had him in his possession, it was a sure thing. He'd have the money in no time.

"Listen, Roman, I spent a lot of time and put a lot of effort into taking care of you. I need to know how the hell you almost died in the first place. What is a Water Tribe noble doing in Ba Sing Se?"

| Prince Roman |

Spoiler:

Roman struggled to understand. He didn't altogether know why he was there, either. He just knew he had to be with Cassian and Castiel and Kihana. They were traveling. He'd assumed they were going home. But they never said so and he never asked, and so their destination remained unknown to him.

He laid there, silent, and the other boy hissed in frustration. The other boy, the scary boy, hopped off the bed resolutely. He padded to the other side of the room, where Roman remembered there being a door. He heard the door slam. Water started to run.

Slowly, painfully, Roman sat up. His body was extremely sore. After all the years, he wasn't used to the torment his body put him through. After the past threw days, the agony increased, but he had to deal with it somehow. If Cassian and Castiel didn't think he was getting better, he'll never be able to leave the palace again. And Anuk.

After a long moment, the boy came out of the bathroom again. Roman had dragged himself across the bed and dozed off for some time, lulled by the pleasant sound of running water. "You have to take a bath," the other kid said, wringing his hair out with a towel.

Roman whimpered, "I can't move."

"Sure you can," the other kid grumbled. "You wasn't right there when I left. In fact, I'd say you took up my entire bed. Get your lazy ass in the bathtub."

Roman wanted to cry. His body ached, especially his chest, and this boy was bullying him! Some things were just impossible, and he prayed the other kid would realize that. But, slowly, slowly, he pushed himself into a sitting position. Scooting to the edge of the bed, Roman glanced about him apprehensively for something to hold on to. He was sure he was going to fall if he let his feet touch the ground. He clenched his eyes shut.

Suddenly he was being lifted up. His body draped itself across a smooth, slightly wet surface, and Roman eased his eyes open to investigate. The other boy had decided to carry him, piggy-back, with his long, damp hair slung over a shoulder.

The five-year-old sneezed, blinked in surprise, and then held on to his 'captor's' shoulders.

"You're pretty pathetic for a prince," the kid said simply. "The hot water will help loosen your muscles. The steam'll be great for your asthma. I'm not doctor, but I'll say that's common sense."

Roman's vision grew hazy. He was dead tired.

Basil entered the bathroom, mist swirling around them ..

And promptly dumped him in the tub, clothes and all.

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