Post by Bastille Amtrum on Jul 7, 2008 15:19:35 GMT -8
“10 hour flight Ms. Bastille, it’s a pleasure to have you fly with us, please let me know if there is anything I can do to make you more comfortable” the purple wavy haired flight attendant doted upon Bastille. This was another unfortunate turn in events to end a long trip. Since her foster parents, who liked to call themselves “in laws” rather then foster parents, had bought the plane tickets Bastille was seen as another rich person in the first class. However Bastille was hardly rich and hardly looked it either. She was only called the daughter in law because the parents liked to think that her and Leon had secretly gotten married when she was 13 (fat chance), and even after that liked to take care of her like a rich daughter who deserved nothing less then the best.
Bastille on the other hand, who wore a black trench coat, white t-shirt (that was practically see-through to the black bathing suit top underneath), jeans with one leg cut off entirely around the upper thigh and the other leg with numerous holes in it, a pair of white thigh highs over a pair of black tights and her normal belted riding boots (newly acquired at the Japanese version of Camden Town. She wore a pair of sun glasses which where the only hint to her wealth, being slick silver. Her hair was its normal spiky mess. So, why anyone would think she was rich looking and dote upon her was beyond her but still it happened. Names got around, even in Japan.
Bastille didn’t return the comment to the lady only pulled her sunglasses over her eyes and stared out the window of the first class seating. She had to beg to get this little. Her foster parents almost sent her on a private jet. Bastille shifted as the plane began its movement to take off ignoring everyone else as they shifted about. She pretended to be asleep after a while so the attendants would leave her alone. But in reality, there she was thinking. Thinking about the past 14 days…
So why had she come to Japan. The answer was simple, but complicated in its dealings. She was there to settle things with her past. Settle things with the one called Gilgamesh she had met years earlier on an exchange student route. She had decided to go, after a recent dream she had been having a lot lately. Her flash backs where getting real again, and she couldn’t help but think it was based on some illness she must have. Flash backs, and memories weren’t supposed to be this real. Her mind ached from trying to grasp why god was making her relive her past so much, when all she wanted to do was forget it and move on. Bastille wasn’t a normal human…she wasn’t even all there. She was always lost.
Bastille had been born in wealth yet was different. She didn’t want wealth, if there was one thing Bastille was not it was greedy. That key factor had changed her. She had hated her family, even felt pity to her new parents, and hated every one who sought to be among those rich and greedy people. In her minds eye they had sinned more then she ever had. In her efforts to escape her upbringing and become something more “right” in her head she gave up wealth at every turn, and sought for the lowest life possible. She tried school, tried the army, and even tried being an assassin for a long time. Love was the only emotion that confused her. In her very short life she had already experienced twice as much as a normal person her age would have. She felt old and tired and now she was searching for nothing more then to be a normal person and forget. Love had been the only emotion to ever change her hopes to being normal.
First with Leon. A kind teenager who’s view of the world and never ending imagination gave Bastille her first glimpse of being a normal little girl. She wanted that…to be normal and with him. Then greed killed him.
Bastille snapped her mind back to the subject of why she had taken this trip. She had become an assassin for a small secret military force. Later she would quite because its unrivaled corrupt system. But in that time she had learned to love again in the most odd of means.
Bastille then about 14 and very, very mature for her age, had been standing on a building. Top of a skyscraper simply thinking as she did now, except she didn’t have flash backs back then. She was sure of herself and comfortable. Suddenly one man who found it entertaining to come and pester her on her rainy building top would change her life. Bastille had returned to that building day 3 of her trip. No one stood upon it now but she was sure she could still see the battle scars she their fight had caused. She had returned to the roof and looked around. Yet like the last two times she had gone there. She was alone. She had spent the next few days just wondering around letting memories take over her mind. She visited her old school as the students prepared for finals. No one recognized her. That was good.
The first day of the second week she had returned to ‘that’ building. It was a hotel with a set of nice apartments at the top. He had lived there a long time ago. Bastille wasn’t sure if he still lived there now and part of her yearned that the moment she walked into the door there he would be. Standing in all of his glory ready to shoot a tirade of insults and jibed to get her to argue back. She would, of course. She frowned as she had entered the building.
She found the apartment. It was empty, of course. She stayed there for the next two days unsure why she was there. She really had no reason to stay there and technically she wasn’t even supposed to be there but she couldn’t bring herself to leave the familiar walls in which she had spent her first slave life. He had actually enslaved her in more then one way. He had chained her here both literally and mentally. She of course after a time forgot that she was supposed to escape. But that was a long time ago. A time she missed terribly now. Yet she thought it so wrong to want to be abused. To want to be a slave. It was indeed wrong. However he had never treated her like a slave…sure he chained her, and gagged her, and punished her every time she tried to escape…however that was then.
Every time they argued, or every time they sat in silence…in boths minds they where equal. He treated her as an equal and even better, he had treated her with respect. In time she grew to feel so strongly for him she found herself being protective of him. But none the less, it was so long ago, and now long over.
She was once again, in an ironic twist forced into slavery. This time by a man not much different then the blond bastard. Perhaps that was why she stayed here for the next week. Her feelings for the blonde bastard had grown so strong that in leaving she wanted to return. To wait forever for him. She hated that emotion. It made her weak, and yet she craved being weak if it meant being by his side. Because then she was strong. Ugh the emotion was frustrating. And it made no sense. Bastille had cried for those two days spent reminiscing in a now empty apartment. Yet she never shed a tear.
It was after that moment she began to think about where she was now. In yet another school, she liked for the most part. Enslaved once again by another guy who had a huge ego and was a just to similar to Gilgamesh to be healthy for Bastille.
Mathew Amtrum. He had been interesting off site for Bastille however she would easily get bored with him. Or so she assumed. She was in no mood to deal with another blonde bastard who thought of nothing else but himself. Bastille tried to ignore him…but he ALWAYS seemed to pop up. Yet after a while she found herself escaping things to find him. That was dangerous and she had to stop. Of course it was slowly after that he had taunted her into fighting him for her freedom over a car. Bastille of course had lost. She wasn’t that strong.
Of course here she was running away from him on a trip to fight her past. Why was she here? Was it really to settle her past with Gilgamesh, or was it to escape the threat of the new one. Was she really so destined to be hurt by emotions she didn’t care for. She shoved aside. Self pity would get her no where. And ‘that’ night …with Gilgamesh…was defiantly another pressing matter she wanted to think about.
Bastille didn’t realize she had fallen asleep until the flight attendant walked by with a food cart waking her up. Bastille sighed and ordered her food in piece. Eating it swiftly she tuned out memories for a while with music and half a movie which was rather boring. Sighing she let her mind wander again.
The trip had ended nicely. She had patched most of her questions up with semi good answers and was ready to head home by the 10th day. It was on the 11th day she met him again. There he was in the train station. Leaving the south side of Tokyo he was sitting on the opposite side of the platform as Bastille entered the train station. He didn’t look at her immediately. He was lost in thought or something. However as soon as Bastille stopped dead in her tracks on the other side waiting for the train, his eyes darted towards her. Seeing her standing there with nothing on her except a cigarette, standing in wait for the coming train at first he thought nothing of her from the look on his face. However her face seemed to slam a hammer to his face. His expression went from relaxed to rigid and he was up in a moment. He was staring at her as Bastille was staring at him. Her red eyes from behind a pair of sunglasses just gave him a blank stare. Emotions spread quickly over his face, while Bastille remained ironically calm and relaxed. Her heart did not even speed up.
He seemed confused however he made an attempt to yell something but stopped. He let a smirk cross his face and then he turned away from her as if she where a figment of his imagination. Bastille pulled off her sunglasses and stared at him that way. He would look back with a frown at first. However he looked lonely. Bastille put her sunglasses on and smirked. Turning from him as the train rolled in. He dashed across the open doors but Bastille was gone. Already up to the street hugging herself under a pillar. She stayed outside that night.
She thought she had herself under control but as he moved towards her, her stupid memories decided to flash inside her head and she ran away from them and him. She wasn’t over him. Not yet. She wondered if she ever would be. She returned home the two days later.
AS the plane landed Bastille still only had one question left. Why did she take this trip? She concluded it was not to settle things with her past. There was nothing to settle from something you’ve long since out run. No…She was simply preparing for the future.
Unfettered, Mathew, Roland, Homi, Her Foster Parents….everyone at 259. She had a new period of her life to start and she was simply completing the transaction onward. No her life was her own and she would live it as such no love included. She came to Japan to settle the score with love. She would refuse to love…..refuse it, and then she would live her life the way she choose. Free and dirt poor.
Bastille on the other hand, who wore a black trench coat, white t-shirt (that was practically see-through to the black bathing suit top underneath), jeans with one leg cut off entirely around the upper thigh and the other leg with numerous holes in it, a pair of white thigh highs over a pair of black tights and her normal belted riding boots (newly acquired at the Japanese version of Camden Town. She wore a pair of sun glasses which where the only hint to her wealth, being slick silver. Her hair was its normal spiky mess. So, why anyone would think she was rich looking and dote upon her was beyond her but still it happened. Names got around, even in Japan.
Bastille didn’t return the comment to the lady only pulled her sunglasses over her eyes and stared out the window of the first class seating. She had to beg to get this little. Her foster parents almost sent her on a private jet. Bastille shifted as the plane began its movement to take off ignoring everyone else as they shifted about. She pretended to be asleep after a while so the attendants would leave her alone. But in reality, there she was thinking. Thinking about the past 14 days…
So why had she come to Japan. The answer was simple, but complicated in its dealings. She was there to settle things with her past. Settle things with the one called Gilgamesh she had met years earlier on an exchange student route. She had decided to go, after a recent dream she had been having a lot lately. Her flash backs where getting real again, and she couldn’t help but think it was based on some illness she must have. Flash backs, and memories weren’t supposed to be this real. Her mind ached from trying to grasp why god was making her relive her past so much, when all she wanted to do was forget it and move on. Bastille wasn’t a normal human…she wasn’t even all there. She was always lost.
Bastille had been born in wealth yet was different. She didn’t want wealth, if there was one thing Bastille was not it was greedy. That key factor had changed her. She had hated her family, even felt pity to her new parents, and hated every one who sought to be among those rich and greedy people. In her minds eye they had sinned more then she ever had. In her efforts to escape her upbringing and become something more “right” in her head she gave up wealth at every turn, and sought for the lowest life possible. She tried school, tried the army, and even tried being an assassin for a long time. Love was the only emotion that confused her. In her very short life she had already experienced twice as much as a normal person her age would have. She felt old and tired and now she was searching for nothing more then to be a normal person and forget. Love had been the only emotion to ever change her hopes to being normal.
First with Leon. A kind teenager who’s view of the world and never ending imagination gave Bastille her first glimpse of being a normal little girl. She wanted that…to be normal and with him. Then greed killed him.
Bastille snapped her mind back to the subject of why she had taken this trip. She had become an assassin for a small secret military force. Later she would quite because its unrivaled corrupt system. But in that time she had learned to love again in the most odd of means.
Bastille then about 14 and very, very mature for her age, had been standing on a building. Top of a skyscraper simply thinking as she did now, except she didn’t have flash backs back then. She was sure of herself and comfortable. Suddenly one man who found it entertaining to come and pester her on her rainy building top would change her life. Bastille had returned to that building day 3 of her trip. No one stood upon it now but she was sure she could still see the battle scars she their fight had caused. She had returned to the roof and looked around. Yet like the last two times she had gone there. She was alone. She had spent the next few days just wondering around letting memories take over her mind. She visited her old school as the students prepared for finals. No one recognized her. That was good.
The first day of the second week she had returned to ‘that’ building. It was a hotel with a set of nice apartments at the top. He had lived there a long time ago. Bastille wasn’t sure if he still lived there now and part of her yearned that the moment she walked into the door there he would be. Standing in all of his glory ready to shoot a tirade of insults and jibed to get her to argue back. She would, of course. She frowned as she had entered the building.
She found the apartment. It was empty, of course. She stayed there for the next two days unsure why she was there. She really had no reason to stay there and technically she wasn’t even supposed to be there but she couldn’t bring herself to leave the familiar walls in which she had spent her first slave life. He had actually enslaved her in more then one way. He had chained her here both literally and mentally. She of course after a time forgot that she was supposed to escape. But that was a long time ago. A time she missed terribly now. Yet she thought it so wrong to want to be abused. To want to be a slave. It was indeed wrong. However he had never treated her like a slave…sure he chained her, and gagged her, and punished her every time she tried to escape…however that was then.
Every time they argued, or every time they sat in silence…in boths minds they where equal. He treated her as an equal and even better, he had treated her with respect. In time she grew to feel so strongly for him she found herself being protective of him. But none the less, it was so long ago, and now long over.
She was once again, in an ironic twist forced into slavery. This time by a man not much different then the blond bastard. Perhaps that was why she stayed here for the next week. Her feelings for the blonde bastard had grown so strong that in leaving she wanted to return. To wait forever for him. She hated that emotion. It made her weak, and yet she craved being weak if it meant being by his side. Because then she was strong. Ugh the emotion was frustrating. And it made no sense. Bastille had cried for those two days spent reminiscing in a now empty apartment. Yet she never shed a tear.
It was after that moment she began to think about where she was now. In yet another school, she liked for the most part. Enslaved once again by another guy who had a huge ego and was a just to similar to Gilgamesh to be healthy for Bastille.
Mathew Amtrum. He had been interesting off site for Bastille however she would easily get bored with him. Or so she assumed. She was in no mood to deal with another blonde bastard who thought of nothing else but himself. Bastille tried to ignore him…but he ALWAYS seemed to pop up. Yet after a while she found herself escaping things to find him. That was dangerous and she had to stop. Of course it was slowly after that he had taunted her into fighting him for her freedom over a car. Bastille of course had lost. She wasn’t that strong.
Of course here she was running away from him on a trip to fight her past. Why was she here? Was it really to settle her past with Gilgamesh, or was it to escape the threat of the new one. Was she really so destined to be hurt by emotions she didn’t care for. She shoved aside. Self pity would get her no where. And ‘that’ night …with Gilgamesh…was defiantly another pressing matter she wanted to think about.
Bastille didn’t realize she had fallen asleep until the flight attendant walked by with a food cart waking her up. Bastille sighed and ordered her food in piece. Eating it swiftly she tuned out memories for a while with music and half a movie which was rather boring. Sighing she let her mind wander again.
The trip had ended nicely. She had patched most of her questions up with semi good answers and was ready to head home by the 10th day. It was on the 11th day she met him again. There he was in the train station. Leaving the south side of Tokyo he was sitting on the opposite side of the platform as Bastille entered the train station. He didn’t look at her immediately. He was lost in thought or something. However as soon as Bastille stopped dead in her tracks on the other side waiting for the train, his eyes darted towards her. Seeing her standing there with nothing on her except a cigarette, standing in wait for the coming train at first he thought nothing of her from the look on his face. However her face seemed to slam a hammer to his face. His expression went from relaxed to rigid and he was up in a moment. He was staring at her as Bastille was staring at him. Her red eyes from behind a pair of sunglasses just gave him a blank stare. Emotions spread quickly over his face, while Bastille remained ironically calm and relaxed. Her heart did not even speed up.
He seemed confused however he made an attempt to yell something but stopped. He let a smirk cross his face and then he turned away from her as if she where a figment of his imagination. Bastille pulled off her sunglasses and stared at him that way. He would look back with a frown at first. However he looked lonely. Bastille put her sunglasses on and smirked. Turning from him as the train rolled in. He dashed across the open doors but Bastille was gone. Already up to the street hugging herself under a pillar. She stayed outside that night.
She thought she had herself under control but as he moved towards her, her stupid memories decided to flash inside her head and she ran away from them and him. She wasn’t over him. Not yet. She wondered if she ever would be. She returned home the two days later.
AS the plane landed Bastille still only had one question left. Why did she take this trip? She concluded it was not to settle things with her past. There was nothing to settle from something you’ve long since out run. No…She was simply preparing for the future.
Unfettered, Mathew, Roland, Homi, Her Foster Parents….everyone at 259. She had a new period of her life to start and she was simply completing the transaction onward. No her life was her own and she would live it as such no love included. She came to Japan to settle the score with love. She would refuse to love…..refuse it, and then she would live her life the way she choose. Free and dirt poor.
