Chapter 1 - Chapitre I
Submitted October 19, 2006 Updated December 18, 2006 Status Incomplete | no, I really can't think of a better title. just give me time. anywho, I don't really know enough to describe the plot, as I'm not sure where I want it to go. I count on the characteres to make the story happen. read it if you're curious. phantom
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Miscellaneous » Writing » Action/Adventure |
Chapter 1 - Chapitre I
Chapter 1 - Chapitre I
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~Chapitre I~
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'Hey! Get up, [i]daikon![/i]'
'Mmmfff.'
'Hurry up, or Beatrice'll go mad! You know how she gets!'
He sat up. 'You're her big brother, how can you possibly be afraid?'
Alphonse shrugged, that good-natured smile of his in place. He had shortish, golden-blonde hair and eyes that were such a light brown you'd swear they were golden. 'Who knows? She's scary when she gets pissed.'
'What does Tris want?'
'Aaah, no! Not "Tris"! She hates beng called that! I'd better not catch any flack if she hears...' He smiled again. 'She says you promised to check out the Haunted Mansion with her. What possesed you?'
'You're such a sissy, you [i]daikon.[/i] I'm not scared.' He was on his knees, fishing for a sock under his bed.
'No. Tell me why. You wouldn't go there with Bea, or any one else, without a reason.'
He straightened, looking rather annoyed with Alphonse. Alphonse looked back with that innocent smile. 'Oh all right. It was a bet. I bet Crimson two hundred thousand I could beat him at kingba.'
'What? He's stupid! You were the champion two years running! ...And everyone knows you haven't got two hundred thousand!'
'Yeah...' August pulled on his sock and set about finding a matching one. 'But I was sure I'd win.'
'No way! Crimson beat [i]you[/i]?'
'Yeah. He must've owed her something, 'cuz I expected him to make me do his laundry and cooking for a week. Guess I actually got off easy.'
'I bet he was bored. No wonder! I went in yesterday and he nearly bit my head off. I accidentally put cream in his coffee, you know how he hates that. I bet he missed another deadline... I swear, Crimson's the worst procrastinator I know. But that doesn't make sense... Why'd he waste all night playing kingba?'
August came back up holding a handful of socks, none of which matched. 'Who knows? Alphonse, do you have any matching socks? You know how Tris is picky about these things...'
'Sorry, little brother. Last time I let you borrow socks I only got one back, and it smelled like old fish.'
August made a face and pulled on a random sock. 'I'd better go.'
'Good luck! Don't let her kill you!'
'Thanks a lot.' August swung his bookbag over his shoulder and followed Alphonse to the kitchen, where he began to make sandwiches.
'Where have you been? I thought you'd never come!' August let out a little moan. Beatrice was nice, but only if you were on her good side. Her blond hair was straight with a slight wave towards the ends, cut to a little past shoulder length, and her eyes were pale blue. Today her hair was tied back, and she wore a knee-length light green skirt with dark green designs and a charcoal grey t-shirt with black flowers printed on it. She was wearing charcoal and black striped stockings and was holding a pair of faded black and white chucks with dirty white laces. Someone had doodled on the toe of one.
He glanced at the shoes. 'Since when do you wear chucks?'
'I've always wanted some, and I can't explore a Haunted Mansion in heels, so I swiped 'em from Alphonse. And since when is it any of your buisness?'
'Er...' August stuck the sandwiches and some crackers into the bag. 'We're all out of pocky again!'
Beatrice frowned. 'Well, blame Crimson. In the meantime, let's go!' She grabbed August's hand and dragged him to the door. August shot a pleading look to Alphonse, but he only smiled and shrugged, watching his friend being dragged off by his younger sister.
It was a couple of minutes later when he heard a call from upstairs. 'Al~~~[i]phonse[/i]!' Alphonse climbed the stairs and opened the door at the end of the hall, sighing.
The circular room was messier then anywhere else in the house, and that was saying something. The bed was piled so high in books it was barely visible. The floor was strewn with crumpled sheets of paper, empty pocky boxes, more books, and dirty clothes. There were sheets piled the in the cleanest patch of floor, probably for sleeping, since the bed was covered. Pushed against the opposite side of the room from the bed was a desk with several more stacks of books, on top of which were precariously balanced various things, such as a dim oil lamp, a half-empty coffeepot, several dirty mugs, an ink-smudged glass paperweight, and several inkwells, that were probably all dried out. Pushed to the sides were more piles of paper, pens, inkbottles, and a typewriter with a jammed ribbon. The whole room smelled of coffee, stale ink, and paper.
Sitting at the desk was a man who looked about the same age as Alphonse with long messy hair that was a queer shade of red/dark pink/purple. It was the worst case of bed-head Alphonse had ever seen and was probably in bad need of a cut. He was wearing a white button-down shirt with all of the buttons undone and the sleeves rolled up to the elbows, and green plaid boxers.
'Yo,' Alphonse said. 'Whaddya need, Crimson?'
Crimson turned around. His eyes were mis-matched: the left was the same colour as his hair, but the right was smoky purple, concealed by a curtain of hair, and both had slight shadows under them, like he hadn't had a good night's sleep in a week. He had a piece of pocky sticking out of his mouth, all of the chocolate sucked off that end. 'I need more pocky, Al.' Only Crimson called him Al. Everyone else knew he didn't like the nickname.
'We haven't got any more.' Crimson threw the empty pocky box he was holding, hitting Alphonse square in the forehead.
There was a slight snap as he bit the end off the pocky. 'Well, what am I paying you for?' Alphonse blinked, and Crimson let his breath out through his teeth. 'If there's no more, then get some, [i]daikon[/i]. Is the shower free?'
'Err, yeah... I'll be going. To the store. And nobody's in the shower. Aiza's at a friend's, and the Master's out, or locked in the Tower. So you're good.' Alphonse turned to go.
'Wait, Al...' Alphonse turned back with a sound similar to 'nyuuu?' 'What about those kids?'
'Oh, Bea and August? They went to that Haunted Mansion. Is it true you won August at kingba?'
He stood and crossed the room, stretching as he did so. 'Thanks, Al.' He ruffled Alphonse's hair as though he were a little kid instead of a twenty one-year-old as he passed. Alphonse watched him walk down the hall, a cute Alphonse-ish frown on his face as he flattened the hair that Crimson had messed up. Then Crimson turned into the bathroom, and Alphonse started back towards the stairs.
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As Alphonse made his way to the store, August and Beatrice were skateboarding to the Haunted Mansion. Or, rather, August was skateboarding and Beatrice was attempting to do so and failing spectacularly. Which made it take a lot longer then it needed to. After falling for the umteenth time Beatrice demanded that they stop and buy ice cream, which they did. After that, they had to walk, or at least Beatrice walked while August slowly skateboarded beside her.
Finally they reached the hole in the wall that surrounded the town. They ducked through it, stopping to deposit their skateboards on the other side behind a pile of rubble. There was a short walk through the wood on the other side before they reached the mansion.
'Look, August! It's just ahead!' Beatrice ran ahead to the wrought-iron gates that were the only break in the high wall surrounding it and peered through, bouncing on the balls of her feet. But August had stopped.
The reason for this was the man leaning against the tree. He wore a black bowler hat with a scarlet ribbon around it, a long black tailcoat that was red on the underside over a clean white button-down shirt that needed ironing and wasn't tucked in, a black tie with a red cross at the centre, black pants that were too loose to match though they looked like they were the same material as the tailcoat, and black boots that had pointed toes that turned up at the ends. His longish hair was braided and tied with a silky black string, and he wore wire-rimmed sunglasses with red lenses, despite the shade the trees provided. Maybe it was the light, but he seemed inhumanly pale. It made him look like a vampire.
'Heeeeyyyyy,' he said. August glanced at him warily. Was he a gay vampire or something...? 'What brings you to this mansion?'
'You tell me why you're here first,' said August, sounding a lot braver than he felt. Though if he was a shady charactere, he would surely lie... right?
'I'm just visiting a friend,' said the Gay Vampire. He jerked his head towards the mansion.
'What?! Someone lives there? Who?'
'Sorry, your turn. Why are you here?'
August thought about retorting, but as he didn't know what this guy was capable of, he thought better of it. 'Eh... we're just taking a look around...'
'Hey, August! What're you doing over there?'
'E~~~~eh... just talking to...' He turned around, but the Gay Vampire had vanished. 'Nevermind, I'm coming.' He ran over, joining Beatrice at the gate.
'Wow,' she breathed. 'I've never seen it so close before... But the gate is locked. How are we going to get in there?'
'Dunno.' August bent to examine the lock. When he put his hand on it, however, there was a click and the heavy iron lock fell to the ground. 'Umm...'
Beatrice hauled him up by the elbow. 'Well? What are you waiting for?' she pushed the gate open. 'Come [i]on![/i]'
'I'm not sure this is a good idea. The way it opened like that...'
'Oh, [i]please.[/i] You really think it's haunted? The lock was probably broken, or maybe it wasn't shut all the way.' August still looked skeptical, and Beatrice made a sound similar to [i]phhhh![/i] and exhaled, which made her bangs flip up. 'Don't tell be you [i]believe[/i] those ghost stories! Don't be supid! ghosts aren't real!'
'If you were a ghost you wouldn't like hearing that,' August said softly. That shut Beatrice up. 'Anyway, it's not necesarily the ghosts I'm worried about.'
Beatrice paused, looking at him oddly. 'Well... we'll just have to be extra quiet, then. Right?' Without any further procrastination, she strode through the gates, and August had little choice but to run after her.
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Aiza was sitting on the steps of the house. She had left her key somewhere as she had been late for her flute lesson and now it seemed there was no one home. She had even risked knocking... but didn't dare ring the doorbell if the Master might be there. He found the doorbell annoying. And no one quite dared disturb the Master.
She stood. Crimson was coming up the street. With a briefcase, and he was wearing a tie. Unusually nice dress for Crimson... she allowed herself a smile. Maybe he had finally gotten himself a girlfriend. The pale golden leaves of the oak trees that lined the drive were falling around him. She couldn't say she didn't find him attractive, but she was probably a mere child to him.
Then he suddenly turned, leaving the road. That woke her from her daydream. 'Crimson!'
He turned back, scowling at her, the end of the pocky in his mouth flicking up. 'Whad'ya want? I've finally got an idea and you interrupt me.'
Aiza felt herself go red. 'I... I left my keys inside...'
'Oh.' he rummaged in his pocket and drew out a key ring. 'Catch.' Then he turned. She was too stunned to catch them. 'Alphonse is still at the store? Then leave 'em on the table in the kitchen. Stay outta my room.' He stuck another piece of pocky in his mouth and walked in the direction of the rose garden. She was too busy watching him go to notice the cloaked figure that came up behind her.
'You know Caranath?'
Aiza didn't scream. And she never had the chance to pick up Crimson's keys.
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Author's note: (charactere guide for chapitre one)
Aiza: Fifteen years old, soft dark-chocolate-coloured hair and eyes, on the short side. She lives at the house because she is the Master's neice. In her spare time she likes to play the flute and read romance novels. Her name is pronounced eye-zuh
Alphonse: Twenty-one years old. Shortish, golden-blonde hair and eyes that are such a light brown you'd swear they were golden. He is more or less Crimson's assisstant, which is why he and Beatrice live at the Master's house, and also explains why Crimson tends to boss him around. He is a kind, and gentle-if-somewhat-clumsy, and has good intentions despite this. Though he is six years older then Beatrice, she often acts more mature. His main hobby is cooking. (so he cooks for everyone. XD)
August: Age: sixteen. Hair: straight and black, like raven feathers, eyes are golden-orange (Alphonse's are golden-[i]brown[/i]; so there is a difference). Reason for living there is unclear, though he's been there for a long time. Best friend is Alphonse, despite their age difference. He is rather obsessed with 'kingba' (more or less one-on-one swordfighting battles, though with foam-coated wooden bat things in place of real swords. tournaments are held once a year at the end of summer.) I guess that's his hobby...
Beatrice: Age: fifteen. Blonde hair a little past shoulder-length, pale blue eyes. She lives at the house because her older brother works there... August is her friend from school, I guess... (do they go to school?!? gah, plothole... though it isn't really important... XD;;;;) Anyhoo, she tends to act like Alphonse's mother when he's being stupid. (she's kind of like Gwen that way) She likes reading Crimson's novels.
Crimson: Age unknown, though he appears to be about the same age as Alphonse. Hair and eyes: ...see these quotes: 'long messy hair that was a queer shade of red/dark pink/purple. It was the worst case of bed-head Alphonse had ever seen and was probably in bad need of a cut.' though he puts his hair in a ponytail when he wants to be neat... and the other: 'His eyes were mis-matched: the left was the same colour as his hair, but the right was smoky purple, concealed by a curtain of hair...' Other than that: he is a novelist. He is really good at swordfighting, though he has never been in a kingba tournament...
'the Master': Age: unknown. Appearence: unknown. Gender: unknown, though the general assumtion is male. 'He' is the owner of the house that they all live in, and 'he' hates loud noises.
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I'm trying to do one chapitre per week. who knows how long I can keep that up...
~Chapitre I~
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'Hey! Get up, [i]daikon![/i]'
'Mmmfff.'
'Hurry up, or Beatrice'll go mad! You know how she gets!'
He sat up. 'You're her big brother, how can you possibly be afraid?'
Alphonse shrugged, that good-natured smile of his in place. He had shortish, golden-blonde hair and eyes that were such a light brown you'd swear they were golden. 'Who knows? She's scary when she gets pissed.'
'What does Tris want?'
'Aaah, no! Not "Tris"! She hates beng called that! I'd better not catch any flack if she hears...' He smiled again. 'She says you promised to check out the Haunted Mansion with her. What possesed you?'
'You're such a sissy, you [i]daikon.[/i] I'm not scared.' He was on his knees, fishing for a sock under his bed.
'No. Tell me why. You wouldn't go there with Bea, or any one else, without a reason.'
He straightened, looking rather annoyed with Alphonse. Alphonse looked back with that innocent smile. 'Oh all right. It was a bet. I bet Crimson two hundred thousand I could beat him at kingba.'
'What? He's stupid! You were the champion two years running! ...And everyone knows you haven't got two hundred thousand!'
'Yeah...' August pulled on his sock and set about finding a matching one. 'But I was sure I'd win.'
'No way! Crimson beat [i]you[/i]?'
'Yeah. He must've owed her something, 'cuz I expected him to make me do his laundry and cooking for a week. Guess I actually got off easy.'
'I bet he was bored. No wonder! I went in yesterday and he nearly bit my head off. I accidentally put cream in his coffee, you know how he hates that. I bet he missed another deadline... I swear, Crimson's the worst procrastinator I know. But that doesn't make sense... Why'd he waste all night playing kingba?'
August came back up holding a handful of socks, none of which matched. 'Who knows? Alphonse, do you have any matching socks? You know how Tris is picky about these things...'
'Sorry, little brother. Last time I let you borrow socks I only got one back, and it smelled like old fish.'
August made a face and pulled on a random sock. 'I'd better go.'
'Good luck! Don't let her kill you!'
'Thanks a lot.' August swung his bookbag over his shoulder and followed Alphonse to the kitchen, where he began to make sandwiches.
'Where have you been? I thought you'd never come!' August let out a little moan. Beatrice was nice, but only if you were on her good side. Her blond hair was straight with a slight wave towards the ends, cut to a little past shoulder length, and her eyes were pale blue. Today her hair was tied back, and she wore a knee-length light green skirt with dark green designs and a charcoal grey t-shirt with black flowers printed on it. She was wearing charcoal and black striped stockings and was holding a pair of faded black and white chucks with dirty white laces. Someone had doodled on the toe of one.
He glanced at the shoes. 'Since when do you wear chucks?'
'I've always wanted some, and I can't explore a Haunted Mansion in heels, so I swiped 'em from Alphonse. And since when is it any of your buisness?'
'Er...' August stuck the sandwiches and some crackers into the bag. 'We're all out of pocky again!'
Beatrice frowned. 'Well, blame Crimson. In the meantime, let's go!' She grabbed August's hand and dragged him to the door. August shot a pleading look to Alphonse, but he only smiled and shrugged, watching his friend being dragged off by his younger sister.
It was a couple of minutes later when he heard a call from upstairs. 'Al~~~[i]phonse[/i]!' Alphonse climbed the stairs and opened the door at the end of the hall, sighing.
The circular room was messier then anywhere else in the house, and that was saying something. The bed was piled so high in books it was barely visible. The floor was strewn with crumpled sheets of paper, empty pocky boxes, more books, and dirty clothes. There were sheets piled the in the cleanest patch of floor, probably for sleeping, since the bed was covered. Pushed against the opposite side of the room from the bed was a desk with several more stacks of books, on top of which were precariously balanced various things, such as a dim oil lamp, a half-empty coffeepot, several dirty mugs, an ink-smudged glass paperweight, and several inkwells, that were probably all dried out. Pushed to the sides were more piles of paper, pens, inkbottles, and a typewriter with a jammed ribbon. The whole room smelled of coffee, stale ink, and paper.
Sitting at the desk was a man who looked about the same age as Alphonse with long messy hair that was a queer shade of red/dark pink/purple. It was the worst case of bed-head Alphonse had ever seen and was probably in bad need of a cut. He was wearing a white button-down shirt with all of the buttons undone and the sleeves rolled up to the elbows, and green plaid boxers.
'Yo,' Alphonse said. 'Whaddya need, Crimson?'
Crimson turned around. His eyes were mis-matched: the left was the same colour as his hair, but the right was smoky purple, concealed by a curtain of hair, and both had slight shadows under them, like he hadn't had a good night's sleep in a week. He had a piece of pocky sticking out of his mouth, all of the chocolate sucked off that end. 'I need more pocky, Al.' Only Crimson called him Al. Everyone else knew he didn't like the nickname.
'We haven't got any more.' Crimson threw the empty pocky box he was holding, hitting Alphonse square in the forehead.
There was a slight snap as he bit the end off the pocky. 'Well, what am I paying you for?' Alphonse blinked, and Crimson let his breath out through his teeth. 'If there's no more, then get some, [i]daikon[/i]. Is the shower free?'
'Err, yeah... I'll be going. To the store. And nobody's in the shower. Aiza's at a friend's, and the Master's out, or locked in the Tower. So you're good.' Alphonse turned to go.
'Wait, Al...' Alphonse turned back with a sound similar to 'nyuuu?' 'What about those kids?'
'Oh, Bea and August? They went to that Haunted Mansion. Is it true you won August at kingba?'
He stood and crossed the room, stretching as he did so. 'Thanks, Al.' He ruffled Alphonse's hair as though he were a little kid instead of a twenty one-year-old as he passed. Alphonse watched him walk down the hall, a cute Alphonse-ish frown on his face as he flattened the hair that Crimson had messed up. Then Crimson turned into the bathroom, and Alphonse started back towards the stairs.
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As Alphonse made his way to the store, August and Beatrice were skateboarding to the Haunted Mansion. Or, rather, August was skateboarding and Beatrice was attempting to do so and failing spectacularly. Which made it take a lot longer then it needed to. After falling for the umteenth time Beatrice demanded that they stop and buy ice cream, which they did. After that, they had to walk, or at least Beatrice walked while August slowly skateboarded beside her.
Finally they reached the hole in the wall that surrounded the town. They ducked through it, stopping to deposit their skateboards on the other side behind a pile of rubble. There was a short walk through the wood on the other side before they reached the mansion.
'Look, August! It's just ahead!' Beatrice ran ahead to the wrought-iron gates that were the only break in the high wall surrounding it and peered through, bouncing on the balls of her feet. But August had stopped.
The reason for this was the man leaning against the tree. He wore a black bowler hat with a scarlet ribbon around it, a long black tailcoat that was red on the underside over a clean white button-down shirt that needed ironing and wasn't tucked in, a black tie with a red cross at the centre, black pants that were too loose to match though they looked like they were the same material as the tailcoat, and black boots that had pointed toes that turned up at the ends. His longish hair was braided and tied with a silky black string, and he wore wire-rimmed sunglasses with red lenses, despite the shade the trees provided. Maybe it was the light, but he seemed inhumanly pale. It made him look like a vampire.
'Heeeeyyyyy,' he said. August glanced at him warily. Was he a gay vampire or something...? 'What brings you to this mansion?'
'You tell me why you're here first,' said August, sounding a lot braver than he felt. Though if he was a shady charactere, he would surely lie... right?
'I'm just visiting a friend,' said the Gay Vampire. He jerked his head towards the mansion.
'What?! Someone lives there? Who?'
'Sorry, your turn. Why are you here?'
August thought about retorting, but as he didn't know what this guy was capable of, he thought better of it. 'Eh... we're just taking a look around...'
'Hey, August! What're you doing over there?'
'E~~~~eh... just talking to...' He turned around, but the Gay Vampire had vanished. 'Nevermind, I'm coming.' He ran over, joining Beatrice at the gate.
'Wow,' she breathed. 'I've never seen it so close before... But the gate is locked. How are we going to get in there?'
'Dunno.' August bent to examine the lock. When he put his hand on it, however, there was a click and the heavy iron lock fell to the ground. 'Umm...'
Beatrice hauled him up by the elbow. 'Well? What are you waiting for?' she pushed the gate open. 'Come [i]on![/i]'
'I'm not sure this is a good idea. The way it opened like that...'
'Oh, [i]please.[/i] You really think it's haunted? The lock was probably broken, or maybe it wasn't shut all the way.' August still looked skeptical, and Beatrice made a sound similar to [i]phhhh![/i] and exhaled, which made her bangs flip up. 'Don't tell be you [i]believe[/i] those ghost stories! Don't be supid! ghosts aren't real!'
'If you were a ghost you wouldn't like hearing that,' August said softly. That shut Beatrice up. 'Anyway, it's not necesarily the ghosts I'm worried about.'
Beatrice paused, looking at him oddly. 'Well... we'll just have to be extra quiet, then. Right?' Without any further procrastination, she strode through the gates, and August had little choice but to run after her.
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Aiza was sitting on the steps of the house. She had left her key somewhere as she had been late for her flute lesson and now it seemed there was no one home. She had even risked knocking... but didn't dare ring the doorbell if the Master might be there. He found the doorbell annoying. And no one quite dared disturb the Master.
She stood. Crimson was coming up the street. With a briefcase, and he was wearing a tie. Unusually nice dress for Crimson... she allowed herself a smile. Maybe he had finally gotten himself a girlfriend. The pale golden leaves of the oak trees that lined the drive were falling around him. She couldn't say she didn't find him attractive, but she was probably a mere child to him.
Then he suddenly turned, leaving the road. That woke her from her daydream. 'Crimson!'
He turned back, scowling at her, the end of the pocky in his mouth flicking up. 'Whad'ya want? I've finally got an idea and you interrupt me.'
Aiza felt herself go red. 'I... I left my keys inside...'
'Oh.' he rummaged in his pocket and drew out a key ring. 'Catch.' Then he turned. She was too stunned to catch them. 'Alphonse is still at the store? Then leave 'em on the table in the kitchen. Stay outta my room.' He stuck another piece of pocky in his mouth and walked in the direction of the rose garden. She was too busy watching him go to notice the cloaked figure that came up behind her.
'You know Caranath?'
Aiza didn't scream. And she never had the chance to pick up Crimson's keys.
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Author's note: (charactere guide for chapitre one)
Aiza: Fifteen years old, soft dark-chocolate-coloured hair and eyes, on the short side. She lives at the house because she is the Master's neice. In her spare time she likes to play the flute and read romance novels. Her name is pronounced eye-zuh
Alphonse: Twenty-one years old. Shortish, golden-blonde hair and eyes that are such a light brown you'd swear they were golden. He is more or less Crimson's assisstant, which is why he and Beatrice live at the Master's house, and also explains why Crimson tends to boss him around. He is a kind, and gentle-if-somewhat-clumsy, and has good intentions despite this. Though he is six years older then Beatrice, she often acts more mature. His main hobby is cooking. (so he cooks for everyone. XD)
August: Age: sixteen. Hair: straight and black, like raven feathers, eyes are golden-orange (Alphonse's are golden-[i]brown[/i]; so there is a difference). Reason for living there is unclear, though he's been there for a long time. Best friend is Alphonse, despite their age difference. He is rather obsessed with 'kingba' (more or less one-on-one swordfighting battles, though with foam-coated wooden bat things in place of real swords. tournaments are held once a year at the end of summer.) I guess that's his hobby...
Beatrice: Age: fifteen. Blonde hair a little past shoulder-length, pale blue eyes. She lives at the house because her older brother works there... August is her friend from school, I guess... (do they go to school?!? gah, plothole... though it isn't really important... XD;;;;) Anyhoo, she tends to act like Alphonse's mother when he's being stupid. (she's kind of like Gwen that way) She likes reading Crimson's novels.
Crimson: Age unknown, though he appears to be about the same age as Alphonse. Hair and eyes: ...see these quotes: 'long messy hair that was a queer shade of red/dark pink/purple. It was the worst case of bed-head Alphonse had ever seen and was probably in bad need of a cut.' though he puts his hair in a ponytail when he wants to be neat... and the other: 'His eyes were mis-matched: the left was the same colour as his hair, but the right was smoky purple, concealed by a curtain of hair...' Other than that: he is a novelist. He is really good at swordfighting, though he has never been in a kingba tournament...
'the Master': Age: unknown. Appearence: unknown. Gender: unknown, though the general assumtion is male. 'He' is the owner of the house that they all live in, and 'he' hates loud noises.
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I'm trying to do one chapitre per week. who knows how long I can keep that up...
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