who_is_she | (no subject)

Pherr knew camp was supposed to be fun, at least, that's what his father had said when he'd sent him away. It'll be fun, Pherr, you'll learn new things, make new friends, he'd said, and then and you'll be out of my way, but Pherr didn't think he was supposed to hear that part. In any case, camp wasn't all that fun, though Pherr had been enjoying himself tinkering with a little broken golem he'd found.

"What are you doing, Pherr-reak?"

Pherr sighed, squinting up into the shadow of Bench, the main source of Pherr's dislike of summer camp. Bench was sneering down at him, hands on his hips, and Pherr knew he didn't stand a chance, not with how small he was compared to Bench.

"Nothing," he says, reaching for the golem he'd been trying to fix.

"What's that?" Bench asks, reaching down to snatch the golem from Pherr's hands, "Oh, are you playing with garbage now, Pherr-reak? You should put this in the trash, where it belongs." He carelessly tosses the golem over his shoulder and Pherr shrieks, zipping around him to try and catch it. He misses, and the golem crashes to the ground, making a defeated groaning sound.

"No!" he cries, kneeling next to the golem and starting to sniff.

"What, are you gonna cry, crybaby? Because your only friend was a stinky broken garbage golem?" Bench says, laughing meanly.

"Shut up!" Pherr squeaks, gathering up the golem in his hands and turning to glare at Bench, "You're the one with no friends!" Bench looks stunned for a moment, and then frowns, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Whatever, Pherr-reak!" he snarls, reaching out to grab Pherr's arm.

"Hey! Let go of me!" Pherr says, struggling against him, but Bench is larger and stronger than he is, and it's all he can do to keep his grip on the broken golem.

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"Please, come on, you gotta let me stay!" Spray pleaded with the camp director, his hands folded in earnest, "Please, I'll be good, I'll follow all the rules, I'll be the best camper you ever had!"

"Yeah, me too!" Dorri chimes in, nodding her head, "No sneaking off, no staying up late, no food fights, nothing!"

"Now, kids," the camp director sighs, running a hand back through her short, dark hair and kneeling down onto the ground next to the two tiny asuras, "You're not on our registration list, and I'm afraid we can't let you without a consent form from your parents. You can stay here for now, but only until your mother or father shows up."

"No!" Spray begs, his voice squeaking, "Please, don't make us go back home! Our mom's busy working at the priory, and my dad's too wrapped up in his weird conspiracy junk to pay us any attention!"

"Yeah, except to tell us we can't do anything," Dorri whines, "He barely lets us go outside! You gotta let us stay, please, this is the only way we're going to get to have any fun this summer!"

The camp director sighs, shaking her head again.

"I'm sorry, children, but there's nothing I can do without a permission slip," she says, giving them both a sympathetic look, "But...for now, why don't you go join the rest of the progeny playing outdoors? You won't be able to fully participate in our classes, of course, for legal reasons, but we're having free time right now. I will come get the two of you when we are able to figure out where you will be bunking until your father arrives."

She ushers the two dejected looking twins out of her office, and once they're outside Spray collapses on the steps, drawing in the dirt with the end of his small staff.

"I told you they wouldn't let us in," Dorri says, crossing her arms, "Summer camp was your dumb idea."

"Yeah, yeah," Spray sighs, waving his hand at her, "It's not like yours was any better. Do you really think a charr warband was going to let a couple of asura kids join?"

"Maybe, I guess we'll never know, because you wouldn't even let us try," she says, with a small 'hmph,' before trotting off, following the scent of food coming from the dining hall. Spray sighs, his ears drooping as he kicks dirt over his drawing in the dust. He sits there for awhile, alone, and was just thinking about going to look for his sister when he hears screaming nearby. His ears stand on end, and he hops to his feet, following the sound into the clearing. There, he sees two boys who had to have been about his age, one of them around his own size and one of them much larger. The bigger boy had his arm around the wrist of the other, and seemed to be trying to wrench something out of his hand.

"Hey!" Spray shouts, stowing his little staff on his back and running up to them with his hands balled into fists, "Cut it out, man, leave him alone!"

Pherr jumps at the new voice, clutching the golem tighter to his chest. Bench doesn't release his arm, but he does stop tugging on it, turning to glare at the new kid. Pherr blinks at him,not recognizing him from the campers he'd already met.

"What do you want..." Bench pauses, glancing over him, apparently looking for an appropriate insult, "New kid? This is a private conversation, you're not invited!"

Pherr takes advantage of the lapse in Bench's concentration to yank his arm out of his grip, dashing forward to hide behind the new kid, figuring he was a safer bet for Pherr's golem.

"It was not a private conversation! It would you breaking my stuff! That's not a conversation, that's a... A war!" he says, his voice squeaking a little.

Spray frowns, his brow furrowing, and takes a step towards the bigger boy.

"A bully, huh?" he says, shielding the kid behind him with one arm, "Pick on somebody your own size, man, leave him alone."

"Yeah, pick on someone your own size!" Pherr echoes, peeking over the new kid's arm. Bench snarls, glancing between them both, and then snorts.

"Whatever, losers," he says, tossing his head, "I got better things to do than hang out with you skritt-brains." He sneers and stalks off, but turns his head to call back.

"Remind me to beat the snot out of you later, New Kid."

Pherr rolls his eyes, squatting down to gently lay the salvaged pieces of the golem in front of him.

"Don't mind him," he says, his voice distracted, "He's full of hot air. I don't think he damaged this too badly, actually." He looks up to give the new guy a brief grin before focusing back on the golem, reaching out to gingerly adjust the angle of some precariously-connected parts.

Spray sits down next to him on the ground, peering at the tiny golem he was assembling.

"I'm not worried about him," he says, smiling a little at the other boy, "I can handle myself. I'm glad he didn't hurt you, though. Or your thing. That's a pretty cool golem you have."

He stands up, and offers the kid a hand up as well.

"I'm Spray," he says, "I'm here with my sister, we just got here. We actually...might not be here very long, we kinda snuck in. My dads supposed to be coming to get us..."

Pherr ignores the hand at first, not on purpose, because he's busy examining the golem, and when he does glance up he startles a little. He's not used to people paying him attention, either they thought he was strange or were too aware of who his father was.

"Um... Pherr," he says, looking longer at Spray, consideringly, "You're leaving?" He says, his ears perking up, "Can I go with you?"

Spray looks at him, scratching his head in confusion.

"You...want to leave?" he says, his face contorting slightly, "Why? What's wrong with the camp? Besides that guy, anyway."

He gives Pherr a crooked half-grin as he helps him to his feet, then puts both hands in his pockets and rocks back and forth on his heels.

"I'd way rather be here than at home, even with bullies like him around," he sighs, scratching his nose, "Can't be worse than being at home with my dad, he hates me."

"Oh, no, it's not Bench," Pherr says, standing up and shaking his head, "He's harmless. I just... Don't like it here, that's all." He shrugs, crossing his arms over his chest. His eyes go wide at Spray's so casually mentioning his father, and wonders if they have the same problem.

"How do you... know?" he says carefully, scrutinizing Spray, "That your dad hates you, I mean. Did he tell you?" He attempts to ask as casually as possible, so Spray wouldn't know that he didn't know how to figure something out.

"That's...kind of a weird question," Spray says, cocking his head slightly, "I mean, no, he didn't, really, but...I mean, he's always ignoring me, or acting like I'm annoying him, and he keeps me in the house all day to punish me for...I don't even know why, he just does. I was sick of it, so me and my sister just...decided to run away. Didn't last very long though."

He sighs, his ears drooping a little, then he sniffs the air.

"Man...I can smell the food from the dining hall from here," he says, licking his lips as he realizes how hungry he was; he hadn't had a proper meal in days, "When do we eat, anyway?"

Pherr considers this information carefully, applying it to his own situation, and had to admit there were similarities to his own father, though his father tended to leave him with caregivers and teachers rather than punish him. He glances up again when Spray speaks of food, and realizes it's past lunchtime.

"Oh, it's lunch. I lost track of time," he leans down to scoop up the golem again, gesturing for Spray to follow him, "This way. I'll show you."

"You have a sister?" he asks idly as they walk, the small golem taking up all the space in his arms.