Gift for a Friend (Beatrice)

Chandre was walking down one of the many streets of Naruki city, the sun still high in the sky during her late afternoon stroll. She had adopted her persona of ‘Candy’ the Canadian exchange student, wearing a tweed barret atop her strawberry blond hair. She also wore a light, pink coloured mesh shirt over a black tank top, with a pair of torn up, skin hugging jeans. Completing her young adult, punk rock visage was a pair of beaten up combat boots. The only thing that sort of stood out was her choice of jewellery. She wore around her neck the golden coloured necklace, a single yellow-orange eye at the centre of the pendent which was recently made with the twin she had in her hand. She opened the small box to take a look at the duplicate necklace, though instead of gold and copper, it was cobalt blue and brushed steel. She felt her friend would be more in tune with such a colour scheme, and Chandre hoped she’d be able to find her human friend. The girl she had met almost a year prior had spark a distinct curiosity in the shape shifting hollow, curiosity about how her powers worked, about fullbringers, and about the ‘human condition’ that she was permitted to see that night.

She rounded the corner to see a school, a familiar crest built into the wall of the building. She had ventured into her Imagination Compiler, a computer of sorts she used to simulate real world events, possible outcomes, and work on things too costly to waste in reality. With it, she was able to do a search on the human internet for the crest that was on her friend’s school uniform from that night. Though it was lightly scorched, her computer had managed to narrow it down to two different academies in the city, one of which was for much older students than the young girl Chandre currently sought.

The classes should be letting out soon… She murmured to herself, checking a thin banded silver watch that dangled loosely from her wrist. She was flairing her rietsu slightly, having recently learned how to mask it as that of another species. At the moment she was masquerading as a fullbringer, mimicking the rietsu signature she had sampled that day a year prior, though hers still felt distinctly ‘like Chandre’ for a lack of a better term. She hoped that Beatrice hadn’t started going to another school, or potentially left the country entirely, she would be much harder to track down then. Compiler, just in case, could you start looking into unexplained strings of arson? Things burning down randomly, frequently, same general area?[/I] She thought, her commands sent to her computer, wondering even further if Beatrice had managed to wrangle her powers under control. She wouldn’t need this thing then… but she’d still look fabulous, so win win.[/i] She thought, waiting excitedly for the bell that signalled the end of classes.

The ring that sounded through the air was a gleeful signal for Chandre, who had taken to juggling to pass the time. A couple of younger children had thought her a magician since she seemed to produce the juggling balls from thin air, adding one from seemingly no-where every now and again. She was contemplating adding a third arm into the mix to more fluidly handle the now seven balls she had in the air when the bell announced the end of classes. She caught the balls fluidly, the spheres disappearing fluidly into her hands just as Beatrice exited the building which put a broad smile on Chandre’s face. The disguised hollow began hopping up and down, waving frantically at the young girl who seemed to be much more melancholy. Her glum tone and apparent uncertainty as to Chandre’s name made the lady hollow pique and eyebrow and purse her lips in frustration.

Oui mon amis, it was. Chandre said, bending at the waist to come to eye level with Beatrice. Her look softened though, an apologetic smile coming to her lips. Je’ desole mon ami, I’m sorry for taking so long to get back to you. I, uh, I had an issue with some housing that took up a lot of my time over the last year. She said, not wanting to elaborate on how she had trapped herself in a pocket dimension for months in her recent pursuits. But hey, I’m here now and I come baring gifts! So don’t look so down, put on a smile! Chandre said, pushing her own cheeks up with her fingers and giving a wide grin. When she pulled her fingers away, her face stayed the same, as if frozen that way. She glanced down as if confused before giving her head a shake and returning to her normal ‘Candy’ appearance, though still smiling brightly.

How about we head somewhere you can, uh, open up, really get cooking. You can give my gift a proper test driiiive. She said, reaching into her purse and handing Beatrice the fairly plain white box that held her new necklace.

Ya, I, uh, I kinda fell of the face of the earth there for a bit. She said with a bit of a chuckle as Beatrice chided her, more truth in her words than the young fullbringer could know. Perhaps in the future she could actually show the young girl her new home and the many wonders held in its walls. That may also necessitate revealing her true face however, which could be problematic for the budding friendship. Chandre was lying to Beatrice by merely standing there with a human shape, but there was hope that given enough time such a thing would be a triviality.

Chandre had hoped that this little gift would be the starting point in such a long road, but she had to admit the response she got from Beatrice left her disappointed. The young girl seemed almost saddened by the trinket, the safeguard it provided almost a cruel torture rather than relieving balm. Even her words, the thought of ignoring her powers, trying to live a normal life, it was just… confusing to Chandre.

Que? You… you’re trying to ignore it? The puzzled expression clear on her face, though mixed with a bit of anger at the same time. Chandre could feel the familiar tingle of fury in the back of her mind, and she knew part of it was at the rejection of her gift. She was an artist, and to have a piece of art sneered at was akin to having somebody turn their nose up at your soul, it was insulting on the most primal level! Even more than that though, Beatrice seemed to be doing the same to herself, trying to turn a blind eye to the beauty she could literally explode into any moment. It was nearly impossible for Chandre to comprehend as she strove regardless of the obstacles and measures she needed to take to be unique, singular, noteworthy and memorable! To think that somebody with a natural gift towards such an ideal would willingly cast it aside drew out of her a fresh and lively anger.

Non! Non non non! That is impossible, can’t be done, you’re wasting your time and insulting yourself by trying to believe otherwise! Chandre said, a low growl in her voice as she spoke to Beatrice. You, child, are exceptional. You have power, light and beauty in you that these… normal people will never know or understand! She practically spat out the word ‘normal’ like it tasted wretched in her mouth. You can’t hide it, it will break free, something special can’t be contained because the world won’t allow for it! The truly wonderful always, ALWAYS comes out, whether it’s stunningly beautiful and at your whim, or frighteningly awesome and free of your control is your choice. She said, her tone turning from heated to cold, her eyes fixed and steely on Beatrice.

Trying to live without it? Chandre had to take a few moments to try and understand Beatrice’s point of view on this. To here, trying to ‘live without’ your spiritual powers or abilities was akin to keeping your eyes closed because everybody else around you was blind. It made no sense, fitting in was important in its own ways, but to intentionally handicap yourself over it? There was no way it was sustainable, and almost to emphasise that point for her, Beatrice burst into flame and lightning, vapourizing her back pack in the process.

Huh, and how’s ‘ignoring it’ working out for you so far? Chandre asked, perhaps with a little more venom in her voice than she would have liked. The wax-work woman felt personally insulted that Beatrice saw her abilities, a unique and beautiful piece of natural art, as such a curse. Going to much karaoke lately? Chatting up a whole lot boys then? She said, again, her tone laced with scorn and disapproval. It was frustrating to have to talk about what Chandre considered a completely one sided, obvious topic.

Ecoute. Normal is nice, it’s simple, but it isn’t us. You are a star, to try and be dull is beyond you, it’s not in your nature. You can fight your nature all you want, but you can’t win. It’ll consume you, and considering how your powers work, that could mean literally. Chandre said, her tone softening, a mixture of frustration and sympathy. She came forward, stepping into the inferno with Beatrice, showing no signs that it bothered her in the slightest. There are other ways though. Work with me, work with yourself, gain control, practice using your power, not denying it. It took me years, not days, weeks or months, YEARS to control my body, to keep the same shape for longer than an hour. It’s not going to be easy, but it will be better than… this. She said, holding Beatrices’ hands, the finger tips showing charred skin and blisters already. For the time between now and then, that is what my gift is for, it is a means of greater control, a way to stay safe as you learn. Chandre said, pulling the little box from her pocket once more, the box itself turning to ash around the cobalt blue and brushed steel necklace.

Chandre noted as the fire intensified, Beatrice’s face showing all of the signs of crying save the tears which vanished before they could be shed. Chandre didn’t speak as Beatrice seemed to vent her feelings, didn’t move, just watched, gazed wonder struck. This is why she liked the little blue haired girl, one of the reasons anyway. Her feelings were worn squarely on her sleeve, so intense, so strong and vivid; it was impossible to capture such a thing in a painting, fingers are too cumbersome an instrument to sculpt or carve the raw, natural beauty of it. These were the heart felt emotions of a living soul, the sensations that Chandre was only recently realizing she was so very numb to. Where her heart should beat there was nothing of this glory, and while it may be cruel in a sense, Chandre savoured Beatrices’ loathing. But, as all things in nature, it was short lived. The anger and sorrow stricken from her as surprise overwhelmed them both.

At the touch of the pendant, the flame vanished, or more accurately, condensed, became something tangible, purposeful. The blade that lit in Beatrice’s hand was undoubtedly heat, light and fire, but shaped, bridled. It was the difference between a forest fire and a blow torch, but it was brief. It too vanished, momentarily replaced by the untamed fury of her young friends cloak before that too vanished. Chandre didn’t know what had caused it… her own experiments were somewhat less spectacular when she was testing her own pendant. Perhaps it was the nature of the Fullbringer’s powers, she had heard that they could draw out the hidden qualities of items, make knives cut more keenly, ask glass to become more clear. Maybe Beatrice had unconsciously asked her pendant to ‘help control my fire’ better, which would be fascinating to experiment with. Chandre began to find herself wondering if Beatrice herself could be used as some sort of booster to her other items, raise their efficiency. She hushed such thoughts away quickly though, she had to remind herself that friends didn’t used friends as afterburners.

I’m pretty good at making things. Chandre said with a smile in response to Beatrice’s confusion. This was much more the response that she had been hoping for when she had initially presented the gift. So, if you like, we can go somewhere, I can show you how it works. Or you can figure it out on your own and we can grab a coffee or something.

She cries a lot… Chandre thought as Beatrice gripped her tightly, sobbing into her shoulder. The hollow didn’t have a whole lot of reference for tears, they happen when hurt or sad, that much was obvious from spending literally any time with humanity. The strange blue haired girl before her though seemed like she was happy though, a strange crooked smile, contorted as it were by the relentless tears that streamed down her face. It was actually kind of refreshing to see actual tears though, they weren’t vapourizing as they normally did since the shroud of heat was nowhere to be seen.

Chandre couldn’t really understand the girls’ emotions though, it was a very interesting window, but she didn’t know what it felt like, not really. She had half remembered dreams from when she was alive, but they were distant, hard to grasp, like smoke, she couldn’t understand the concept of happiness from that. She felt pleasure, certainly, the enjoyment of one of her pieces of art coming to fruition, being appreciated, they were ecstatic moments, but that wasn’t what it was to be ‘happy’ was it? Chandre didn’t even know if it were anatomically possible for her to experience such raw emotion as the child before her. Could hollows cry? The wax work hollow could make it happen, but it would be putting on a play, changing her body to have tear ducts, leak water, it was that simple, but nothing behind it. The spontaneity, the power of just feeling something so intently that it forced you to tears, was that just… beyond her? Was the closest she could come merely sparking it in another so that she might observe it? Questions such as these were not pivotal to her survival, but she found herself hungry for the answers, a hunger that seemed to dwarf the void like pit in her soul that craved to devour the ghosts of those around her. She clutched Beatrice closer, like the girl was a treasure that couldn’t be left to leave, be hurt, to mar the perfect glimpse at what made life worth living for those with but the blink of an eye to walk free before they meet their graves.

It is all right, take your time, let it out. Chandre said, wishing for the first time that she could cry true tears.