Post by Jay D. McIna on Oct 5, 2013 17:34:52 GMT -5
Jay sat outside the pub he'd been staying at. It had been two days - two very long days - of hunger and heartbreak, brought on by Marcy's departure. He would cry, but he didn't think he had enough water left in him to do that.
With a glance upwards, he took in all the people around him. Apparently, this town in particular was a popular romantic hotspot. At least, it was the most popular he'd seen. Every few minutes, a couple would walk by him. Jealousy would tear through him anew every time they laughed, kissed, or held hands.
A short grunt and a scrape of metal on the ground later, Jay pushed himself to his feet. He couldn't go on fuming like this much longer. He needed to vent. But first, he needed a pen. Or something to prick himself with; when he was this hungry, everything started to sound like a good idea.
With a smooth motion, he got up, pushing his way to the bar swiftly. Coming up behind the bartender, he slammed his hands down on the bar, glaring across at the now-turning man with his tired eyes. "Give me a pen. Now."
The bartender smiled to himself. He remembered this customer; quite the pushover when he first came in. It'd taken him five...no, four minutes to convince him to pay triple the room fee. He met the gaze of the emaciated man steadily. "No. I'm bloody well not givin' ya a pen. Not for free, that is." With a wide smile revealing his golden tooth - and missing teeth, as well, he extended a hand to the man.
Jay frowned. "You know I can't do that! You already swindled every cent I had out of me, you bastard."
"Well, deal with it. No coin, no pen." The bartender went back to polishing a mug idly. Jay fumed silently behind him.
He really needed to vent.
With a click of his fingers, he brought a fireball into the palm of his gauntlet. "Oi, fatso." The bartender turned around again, a dreary look on his face - until he caught the fireball. A look of shock took his face over. Jay smiled devilishly and rolled it around, pointing it at the booze cabinet. "Well, that looks delightfully flammable...and expensive, too."
The man shook his head. "You wouldn't dare!" Jay merely continued smiling and flicked his wrist towards the cabinet, pulling the fireball back before it left his hand.
"Whoops, that was a close one, wasn't it?" His grin became wicked. "You know, I'm a Noxian...and Noxians, well, we get what we want, even if we have to take it. Got that?" The bartender was shocked, but immediately grabbed a small fountain pen he used for taking occasional orders and fumbled it into Jay's waiting palm.
Jay's grin faded into a more amiable shape. "Thank you. Don't even think of pulling a stunt like this again; if my, uh...'friends'...heard word about something bad happening to me, well, don't you think they would take action?" He merely walked outside, extinguishing the fireball and taking out his small journal.
He really needed to vent.
Sometimes, when you've been stuck alone for long enough, you just have to break out into reality, with no regard for what position it may put you in. It is better to try and fail than to never try.
Post by Jay D. McIna on Nov 26, 2013 17:40:05 GMT -5
It was the day after he'd stolen the pen from the bartender. Jay had managed to find some food and drink today; it felt good to no longer be starved.
He sat in his room, twirling his pen idly. The bartender hadn't objected to him staying there now that he knew what Jay was capable of; he spent the nights there, sheltered from the cold at the least. And he had one other thing. Time. Plenty of it.
Gazing longingly out the window, he let out a sigh. The night was beautiful; Marcy would've liked it. But it reminded him of a night long in his past - one which, while equally beautiful, he would rather not remember.
14 Years Prior...
A far younger Jay sat on the roof of his parent's house, done up in simple clothing. Looking to the skies, he took in the stars. It was quiet tonight...and very beautiful. He felt like he could spend his whole life watching the sky from here.
It had been six years since he had stopped going to school. His parents had tried to continue his education, but hadn't been doing such a good job of it. He hadn't been allowed outside much. In fact, this was the first time he'd been outside in a month. It seemed like they didn't want him being around other children...he couldn't think of why, but he knew he didn't mind. Not anymore, at least.
He sat there for a bit, just looking up at the stars, before crawling back into his bedroom and putting on his glasses. He was just about to sit down and study when he heard his parents coming up the stairs. As they came in, he could immediately see they weren't happy.
"Oh. Um...hello, mama, papa." He gave them a weak smile, but their stern expressions wiped it from his face. "I-is everything...alright?"
They shook their heads. "No." His father stated simply. "You can't live with us anymore. Get out."
Jay sat there for a moment before chuckling. "Oh, I get it, you're joking with me. Like that time you said you weren't going to feed me for a week and you only went for three days. Heh, very funny. Right?" Instead of responding, his father - a large man, who was very intimidating - picked him up the the scruff of his clothing and dragged him downstairs.
"NO, we are NOT joking." Jay's father held on despite Jay's protests, kicking and shouting, before getting to the door. He held him up so they were looking into each other's eyes. "You've gotten too damn expensive, kid, and you've made our family a laughing stock. They ridicule us, call us the parents of a retard, some useless waste of space!" He opened the door and threw Jay onto the sidewalk, where he landed with a thud, scraping his knees, face, and hands.
He tried to turn around and say something, but before he opened his mouth, his father threw a briefcase at him, hitting him in the chest and knocking him over. "There's money and some of your useless toys in there. Now leave! You aren't our son anymore." The door slammed shut, leaving Jay in the dark. Cold. Alone. Afraid. He sat there, staring at the door of his old home for a minute, an hour - nearly all night, waiting for them to open it up and welcome him back in with smiles and warmth. But no one did.
He picked up the briefcase and began dragging it with him to an alley, several blocks away, where he opened it. Inside, there was plenty of money - at least five hundred gold pieces. Next to that, crushed, were Jay's 'toys'. One was several metal spheres, suspended by thin cables, where one's swinging somehow hit the one on the other side. All the others - small gyroscopes and the like - hadn't survived the battering. So Jay set it up on the ground in front of him and sent it swinging, watching it for a minute.
Every time the swinging stopped, he set it again, doing it until the dawn came. He hoped that soon - very soon - his parents would come and retrieve him. But as the sun came up, he buried his head in his arms and curled up against the wall. They weren't coming. He truly was left alone. As the full impact of this hit him, he began to cry uncontrollably, soaking his shirt with his tears.
When he was done with that, he took the suitcase and locked it tightly. Wiping the last few tears from his eyes, he walked out of the alleyway into the dreary, quiet neighborhood. He knew nothing about where he was. He'd never strayed this far from his house before. What he did know, though, was that he needed to find a life. He was young, yes. He had next to no education, of course. But he wouldn't let that stop him. He knew he had to find a way to make his own life. And so, he went out into the quiet morning world, ready to look for his new way.
Present Day
Jay snapped back from that painful memory, shaking his head clear. He wiped his face slightly, realizing he'd been crying. Damn dust in the air. Gets everywhere. He gave one last wipe before drawing the curtains closed, laying in bed as he turned out his lamp. In the darkness, he breathed slowly. Ironic really. Guess I'm right back where I started. With that realization, he fell asleep, drifting off into dreams of darkness and silence.
Sometimes, when you've been stuck alone for long enough, you just have to break out into reality, with no regard for what position it may put you in. It is better to try and fail than to never try.
Post by Jay D. McIna on Dec 10, 2013 1:38:15 GMT -5
Another day had passed. Jay had sat around for a bit, thinking of what he could do, when his stomach reminded him. He hadn't eaten since the day before. With a sigh, he headed outside, deciding to grab his cloak and beg for the day. There were plenty of tourists out; it was rather sunny. Couldn't be too hard.
He moved a few blocks down the way from his inn, sitting on the ground in a small square with his cloak in front. An old trick he'd learned, he'd taken a few of the small coins he'd saved from before and threw them on the cloak, proceeding to mess up his hair and try to look his worst (which wasn't too hard, neither he nor his clothing had gotten a wash in a bit.)
As the hours dragged on, he managed a small income, a few bronze coins dropped in by tired passerby. To kill time, he fiddled with his gauntlet. In the lack of care for it, it had become covered in dust, looking like a relic more than Jay's proudest creation. Sighing, he slipped it back on, scanning the plaza to find something to do.
It was a bit past mid day, now, and the street performers had begun to come out. It was mostly rather traditional acts; one was juggling flaming torches, another was swallowing swords, and a third was a one-man band. That took Jay back a bit; he remembered a few more bittersweet moments in his history now, ones not far from his memory that was simply bitter.
13 Years Prior...
Life was difficult to be a fourteen year old supporting oneself. Jay knew that many had it far worse than himself; every day, he passed by poor orphans, dirty and huddled together for warmth, not much older than him. Most of the time, he acted like the adults who passed by did; namely, he passed by. He looked to the ground. He ignored their pleas for help.
Sometimes, though, he did reach out to them. It wasn't very much very often; never more than a single silver coin from his parent's funds. He loathed that money, never used it for anything after the first week. It was no loss to him to give it to those who could use it. And the looks on their faces from such a simple act was often reward enough, even if the next week he would see them huddled in an alley, beaten and bruised, sometimes not breathing. Noxus was not kind to them; that didn't mean he couldn't be.
But that was rare. Normally, he huddled along to his job, a job that was always in short demand. It wasn't a very difficult job, at least in terms of mental effort; but Jay's rather thin build wasn't adept for the task. Namely, organization of a grocer.
Every day, before the sun rose, he would appear at the grocer's. Every day, he would move boxes for the gruff old man who ran it, doing it as fast as possible so as to not get a lashing. And every day, he would pick up boxes, sometimes taller than the small lad, put them on shelves, and repeat, hours on hours for end, until the sun had set. His reward for the day's work? An empty crate to take to his hideout and whatever fruits and meat the man didn't want to sell to the customers. Raw, even. The only mercy the owner showed was when Jay got sick from eating the raw meat; then, he was given a rare treat in the form of a half day's work and a cooked meal. Still of the discarded food, though.
He had to live every day for an entire year with this treatment; the shopkeeper not even bothering to call him 'kid,' instead settling for 'dog,' being treated as a moron by the customers and owner alike, lifting things twice his size with no rest, and sometimes even being used as a vent for visitor's anger - for a small price, of course. And through it all, he still kept his same old stupid grin and cheerful demeanor.
He honestly didn't know much life outside of this; he thought all children were treated like this. He just considered himself better off than the children he saw on the streets, because hey, at least he had food, right?
Any free time he had, he spent watching and thinking. The night was more interesting than people thought. He'd taken to naming the stars above his crate. The large bright one directly above, he named 'Mama'. The cluster of stars to the right, 'Old McDuff' after the store owner. And the list went on and on. And he would talk with the stars, and he would pretend they would talk back, and together they would think of the things they could do one day.
This night in particular, he couldn't see the stars. It rained, as well. His crate wasn't the driest of places, but it was good enough. So this night, he curled into a corner and thought to himself, not asking Old McDuff if there were any clever ways to get more food tomorrow or Mama if she ever wondered whether she was some far-off torch or a brilliant diamond like the ones he sometimes saw the ladies walking by wearing.
Instead, he played with his toy some more and watched it. One of the balls had fallen off, and while it still worked, he held onto the last ball just in case he could put it back on. And shuffling in his corner, he thought maybe - just maybe - he could be clever like whoever had made this device. And as he fell asleep, he was determined to be called clever for once. The next morning, he came to Old McDuff’s grocer a bit late. He was scolded a bit, but he just shook it off and got to work. He had gotten up early this morning, building his plan up from last night. He just had to wait for the perfect moment to pull it off; then everyone would see he wasn’t some young idiot.
However, the day had nearly passed by before he got his chance. Work had been slow, and they were serving their last few customers of the day; this one in particular was a fine young man, wearing a quality cloak. Jay decided it was as good a time as any to spring his contraption.
He ran to the pushcart he’d had prepared for this; in front of it, there were several others, equally laden with goods. Smiling to himself, he assured himself this plan was perfect. Getting a fast start, he ‘accidentally’ crashed one of the carts into the back. On the other side of the line, while the others stayed in place, the last cart bounced off, rolling at a quick clip until it hit the dapper man in the back of the legs. He gave a startled look as fruits splattered over him, and suddenly the grocer was quiet…even more so than usual.
Old McDuff’s eyes were on him, as were the younger man’s. The pair of them were glaring at him, although the man’s glare seemed to have a touch of curiosity about it. Before Jay knew it, McDuff was at his side, picking him up and shaking him angrily. Jay knew what was likely to come next, and instead of defending himself curled into a small ball.
Suddenly, he was still. The younger man had laid an arm on McDuff’s shoulder, holding him steady. He turned to look at Jay. “Is this boy yours?” He asked flatly.
McDuff gave the man a gruff stare. “I’m glad he’s not, let’s put it at that. Bumbling idiot, costs more money than he makes.” His hands moved as if to strangle him, grasping around his throat, but the younger man’s grip shook him slightly, causing Jay to drop to the ground.
“There’s no need for that. If you have no objection to being rid of him, I’ll punish him myself.” McDuff turned between the stranger and Jay, snarling to himself before waving it off, going back to the counter without another word. The stranger didn’t hesitate to take Jay’s shoulder and guide him out of the grocer, kneeling in front of him before giving him a steady gaze.
“What’s your name, boy?”
Jay didn’t respond for a moment before realizing the man had called him a boy, not a dog. He crossed his arms behind his back and glanced at the ground. “Uh…Jay. It’s Jay.”
“Any last name?” He asked again.
Jay had to think on that one. “…not anymore. But I don’t need one, do I?” He smiled a bit, causing the man to smirk back and stand up.
“No…no, I suppose not. But it’s not fitting, not polite.” He brushed himself off and offered a hand to Jay, walking alongside him. “I’ll call you McDuff. That was the grocer’s name, was it not? You may not have been his as a relative, but you were his as an employee.” He walked a bit longer before pausing. “I have a feeling you may have some things from wherever it is you’re hiding out. I’ll wait here. Go on. Shoo.”
He motioned for Jay to leave and then stood tall, simply waiting, until Jay scurried off to his crate. He grabbed the box of gold coins and his small toy before running back, still slightly confused by what was going on. The man gave him a quick glance before continuing to walk. “Follow me.”
Jay had obediently followed the man, eventually coming to what seemed like a huge house in comparison to where he had been staying before. Being led inside, Jay stared around. It all seemed so clean compared to anything he’d seen; even his family’s house had been in a constant state of disarray. He was completely stunned by how it was until the young man tapped him on the head and sat on the floor in front of him.
There was a silence between the two as they studied each other. “I’m Ina. Ina Inali.” The young man broke the silence with a phrase as simple as that. “And I’m going to say this simply; McDuff said you were slow.” Jay’s grin faltered for a moment. He was hoping this man would be different from all the others. “I am likely to be the only person in Noxus who will treat you well. Got that?” He gave him a quick, knowing look.
Jay sat there for a moment before nodding. “Good. Now, I’ve got a good deal for you.” Ina stood up and offered his cloak to Jay, pointing him towards a nearby door. “You did happen to get my cloak dirty with that stunt you pulled back there…impressive as it may be…so just wash it off really quick. I’ll cook you a hot meal, you can sleep on my couch, and then tomorrow, I will have to ask you to leave…but with a word of advice.”
He went into a small room (Jay assumed the kitchen) and turned around. “Don’t sell yourself to some jerk like McDuff like that. Become a street performer if you can. They make surprisingly good money. Just don’t be someone’s underling; you’ll get stuck there your whole life.” With that, he went inside, and Jay quickly returned Ina’s favor, going to clean off his cloak.
The rest of the night went by in a flash, as did the next morning. Jay wished Ina a quiet and heartfelt goodbye, going off to the nearest plaza he could find. Once there, he simply sat and watched, trying to find inspiration in the other street performers. But none of them seemed to be Jay’s style…he felt like there was no way to make his own mark. But then, one caught his eye…one that would be perfect for him.
Present Day
Jay suddenly snapped back into consciousness, blinking up and realizing several hours had passed. He looked down at his cloak to find that a couple coins were missing. …damn you, Bilgewater. He sighed and gathered his things, getting ready to go back before it got dark out. The rest of his memory escaped him at the moment…but he felt better at least. Perhaps the next day, he could find the time to remember what he was remembering again. But for now, it was time to just think on what he did know, and keep chipper. Things could always get worse.
Sometimes, when you've been stuck alone for long enough, you just have to break out into reality, with no regard for what position it may put you in. It is better to try and fail than to never try.
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