Pink Poogle Toy Forum

{ ahh so depressing!! }

Xavier had been lying on the ground, awake, for quite a while already. An early waker, he usually liked to stay in sleeping position and think for a while before he was finally brought back into reality. The voices of the others brought him away from his thoughts, and he faintly caught Eithne's sarcastic voice: "Lovely morning."

Xavier sat up and leaned his back against the wall which was behind him. "Lovely... yes, quite," he said, looking out the barred window, where strands of sunlight streamed through. He blinked his eyes; the light was somewhat bright.

He'd grown accustomed to the cold, having lived in this prison for as long as he remembered. Seeing a large piece of dust float by, he lifted his useful right hand and tried to snatch it unsuccessfully, his lips growing into a small smile. There were a few things one could do in the prison, if one was creative enough.

Xavier got up and sat next to Eithne. "So, how was sleep?" he asked. "Any dreams?"

Eithne gave a huge, gaping yawn, her mouth snapping shut afterwards with a cat-like motion. She seemed to ignore Xavier for a moment, staring blankly at the harsh stone wall across from her. Finally he seemed to settle back into an awareness of her surroundings.

"Not a dream in sight.." she muttered. "Nice and cozy," she added, again with the cruel sarcasm in her voice. "And you?" she asked, turning to stare at Xavier with the strange grey eyes that so often invoked fear in others. At least, in the few others she'd been exposed to in her lifetime.

Sirre had been dozy, but now it had worn off. His green eyes blinked, he looked at the other two that had spoken.

Silentfull, he stood up, and walking lightly to Eithne.

"Say, Eithne," he whispered with a twinkle in the eyes, "cheer up!"

Without waiting he held his extremily cold hand against her cheek.

((I don't know if anyone has family members that do this. But in my house, it's a common practise to wake people up with extreme cold hands in the neck (brrr) or wet cloths in the face. Really gets the blood running.))

_((Slight edit.))

Eithne mock-glared at Sirre. "Ooh, yes! I should certainly enter the cheery atmosphere," she said, waving a hand around to indicate their surroundings. "Makes me feel all warm and fuzzy ins-ARGH!" she broke off, jerking her face away from Sirre's ice-cold hands.

{ kuroro, my mom does that XD }

A few uncomfortable moments passed as Eithne seemed to ignore him. Xavier was about to ask again when she finally seemed to wake up and answer. "Not a dream in sight," she said. "Nice and cozy." Xavier nodded, grimacing inside; her voice was quite cruel and unpleasant. "And you?" she asked him, turning to him with those grey eyes.

Xavier smiled despite her sarcasm. "Quite good," he answered. "I dreamed of a large field of grass with these little white puffs blowing in the sky. It was so beautiful." He sighed. When one had lived in a prison for so long already, dreams about objects outside the prison were important things to be cherished. "I hadn't had these kind of dreams for so long," he whispered. Out of habit, he rubbed his left arm with his right, partly wishing that it was still useful.

Just then, Sirre spoke, apparently trying to cheer Eithne up. Suddenly he came up and lifted his hand onto Eithne's face. She gave a shout and broke her face away. Xavier sank backwards towards Callum; he wasn't too fond of Sirre and his endless energy.

"Aww, Xavier, don't go," Sirre peeped. In the meantime, he wasn't paying attention to Eithne.

"Aren't you curious for my dreams," he said. His interest was peeked at least.

((Do they have memories from outside? Weren't they really young? Just wondering, for Sirre's future actions/reactions.))

{ I need the answer to kuroro's question too =P. For now I'm supposing they don't have memories, so Xavier just dreams of them for some reason XD }


Xavier bit his lip. He had to admit, he was a little curious for whatever dreams that Sirre might have had, despite his (unreasonable, he thought) restlessness. He looked at the small red-haired youth, who had vibrant green eyes as he did himself. "What did you dream of then?" he asked, rubbing his left arm again.


{ yay short post }

[Well, remember that they were taken from their homes as babies, so they wouldn't have any memories of their parents, vague flashes perhaps. =]]

Callum looked over at the activity going on, and shuddered as he tried to grasp the warmth again, hugging himself close.

[Bleh. ;_;]

Elena was silent.
Which wasn't new.
She had woken up around five hours before anyone else, the cold was too much. She wrapped her arms more around herself and turned her head upward.
As though Elena was pleading for mercy, with her pale lids shut, and her mouth unmoving.

Eithne now turned her stony gaze on Elena. She'd never gotten on well with the girl; there seemed to be a bit of a rivalry between them. Eithne ran her numb fingers around the floor, feeling for a small bit of rock. Finding one, she flicked it deftly in Elena's direction. It wouldn't do any damage, but if it hit right, the cold rock fragment would certainly sting.

"You can't really think that will help, can you?" She asked.

Elena, sharply yanked out of her almost warm solice, threw a glare at Eithne.
Instead of speaking, which she wasn't prone to doing, she simply scoffed. She rearranged her cuddled position, to another wrapped position.
Eithne and Elena had never gotten along, they both had tempers and temperments that matched each others- with about that much patience.

Eithne gave a derisive snort and turned away from Elena. She gazed around the opresive cell, eyeing each of the others in turn before stretching her arms out above her head, trying to get the blood circulating.

"You aren't fit for the filth in here,"
It was pratically a whisper, a breath, but a sharp remark made to Eithne, from the glaring Elena.
The almost-mute girl had the words slip out of her mouth, with a bad taste- like metallic copper, but she had to say them.

Elena's whisper had been barely audible, but still Eithne's head jerked instantly back towards the girl. Slowly, she rose to her feet. The scrawny, underfed girl was hardly any more intimidating standing than she had been curled in a corner, but an intense flame burned in her eyes.

"Not fit...for the filth, am I? That is because I am above it...I do not thrive in it." Her glare at Elena made it quite clear who Eithne thought did thrive in the filth.

Elena lept up, fire matching Eithne's burning in her eyes.
"Say that again, and you'll regret it."
A strange wind seemed to pass through the chamber, a freezing draft, that made Elena's hair fan up behind her.