Private Tales Misfit Adventure: Another Lazy Day

[Miz'ri]

Miz'ri awoke early, the tiny room she shared with Sig still dark as an abyss. She tossed off the large woolen cloak she called a blanket (stolen off a random clothesline after Rook made her assist Giibi with a laundry job) and stood up off the thin mat that was their bed with a yawn. By the sounds coming from the next room, Rook was awake as well, but there was no time to worry about that! There were things that needed doing under the cover of darkness! Secret things! Sacred rituals not for the eyes of the others!

Miz'ri knelt and fished around under a half rotted floorboard, retrieving a flat ended thimble with tiny runes painstakingly carved around the rim. She pricked her thumb on a nail and set to work filling the small bowl, chanting quietly as her lifeblood dripped into the small vessel. It was filled in no time, and as she began another incantation, the blood transformed into a thick black mist that spilled over the sides until it was empty. Happy with the results, she hid the thimble again and crawled back into bed to snuggle with Sig.

She awoke sometime later to bright sunlight streaming through the cracks in the walls and the sounds of people and carts going by outside. Inside the Hidey-Hole, as Giibi liked to call it, was dead silent. Miz'ri rolled away from Sig, and sat up, stretching her arms above her head and he legs out in front of her. She stood and gently shook her bedmate. "Sig... Sig..." she cooed softly, "time for waking up!" Miz'ri paused, but after a moment of Sig just continuing to snore, she was through playing nice. How dare he ignore her and continue sleeping?!

Miz'ri crawled back onto the mat and leaned over Sig. "Sig?" she leaned forward and roughly prodded his nose with her small finger. No response. "Oi!" a second rough poke followed the first. "OI!" she repeated with a third poke as Sig's eyes lazily fluttered open. "Awake now yes?" Miz'ri sat back and crossed her arms, scornfully glaring down at Sig. "Good!" she snipped. "Have things to do! Can sleep later!" She stood and smoothed out her dress, all the while keeping a sharp eye on Sig to make sure he didn't go back to sleep.

Once satisfied with her appearance, Miz'ri stood in the doorway with a cross expression on her face. She tapped her foot as her impatience grew greater and greater until Sig joined her. "Breakfast?" she inquired expectantly. She was hungry damn it! And that meant it was Sig's job to find food.

 

[Erzulie]

Only in his dreams was he doing things. They weren’t necessarily great things, but they were more than he did currently. Sometimes it involved him and Mother, sitting around the table and he was not tied down to the chair as she forcefully shoveled oatmeal that was really maggots into his mouth. In his dreams, it was actually oatmeal, flavorless but warm, and they sat across from each other, smiling.

Sometimes in his dreams he did do great things. Saving damsels in distress, wearing a suit of armor that was shiny. He would be wielding a large great sword, somehow shinier than his armor, and slay orcs and ogres and dragons with ease. Sometimes in his dreams he was the chosen one and he slayed Drakomir before it could destroy Elbion.

Mostly, in his dreams, he dreamed of him and his friends. Not hungry, not dirty, not grateful for scraps. They could play when they wanted to, work when they wanted to, and better yet, sleep when they wanted to because their life was so good, Sig wanted to stay awake. That was his favorite dream. It felt real: having a full belly and laughing as Giibi was quick to clean the dishes and Rook was quick to bring firewood and him and Miz’ri could be setting up a card game and sweets for the night.

“Huhuhumwha— I’m awake.” Sig jolted up before promptly laying back down. He sleepily looked over at Miz’ri, the pleasantness of the dream quickly leaving as he felt the emptiness in his belly and the aches in his shoulders and neck. His hands and feet were very cold. The sleep quickly faded and he sighed. He wished he hadn’t been woken up but if he hadn’t then he wasn’t sure what Miz would do next. He sat up once more, rubbing at his eyes.

“Breakfast. Right.” No oatmeal, or maggots, to eat. He got up, finding his shoes (he didn’t have socks currently) and slipping them on. They were mismatched and one was too small and the other too big, but neither had holes or issues with the sole just yet. “We’ll have to go down to the wharf.” Although wharf was a word too grand for the rotting ensemble of wood and rusted metal. He didn’t bother with smoothing his hair or shirt and instead held his hand out to Miz’ri, yawning as he did so.

“Ready? Let’s hope there’s some sun this afternoon or else we’ll be damp all day.”

Miz'ri