In the Cimmeran Shade

[RuetheDay]

Ciardha wandered in through the double doors of the grand auditorium, the immense rows of chairs fit to seat what seemed a thousand people lead up to a remarkable stage, though it was dark, the superiority of its comparison to an average stage was fair to see.

He wandered down the aisle between the east row of chairs, his small footsteps echoed through the acoustics of the room. Ciardha smiled, pulling off the hood of his jacket as he had finally escaped the beams of the radiant sun. He ran a hand through the straight white hair that stopped just past his shoulder blades, shaking his head. With luck it would be safe to hang around here till dark.

Sitting on the edge of the stage, his legs dangled just barely over the side. He flipped through a forgotten script for Othello, flipping through it idly. Othello was always an old favourite, perhaps one of Shakespeare's best. As he flipped to his favorite scene, the confrontation between Othello and his wife which as well pars as the wife's demise, a bright light filtered from the western exit.

Ciardha turned to look in the direction squinting through the painful pang of the blinding light, he could just barely make out the figure of a person... another student, perhaps? He finally looked away blinking his yellow eyes in an effort to refocus his now blurry vision.

[Anzeh]

Renard had joined the drama club, if only because they had a sudden shortage of male members, which were extremely important nowadays with the sudden influx of crappy plays involving all girls, they needed even more guys to play in the classics--for example, Shakespeare's Othello had a predominately male cast. In fact, the only female, to the kitsune's knowledge, was the moor's wife. He couldn't remember he name for the life of him.

In his arms was a large box full to the brim with scripts and props and costumes and a multitude of other things. He was practically crushed under the box's weight, but that didn't stop him. One foot in front of the other down the aisle until he set the box down on the stage and pushed his silver locks with the natural blue out of his face.

A few short gasps of breath later, he looked up to see someone in the auditorium. He smiled, but had to cough gently. He'd walked a little further than he'd thought that he'd have to.

"Ah, 'allo." He said in his sweet French accent. It was a bit heavy, but his english was still clear.

[RuetheDay]

Ciardha nodded with a smile. He always wanted to join the Drama Club but being mute, that was impossible. As well as with his ability to express emotion being so lacking... It was a depressing thought which he quickly shoved out of his mind. He really didn't want that today.

"..."

Ciardha felt rather awkward as most first meetings with others were generally. They'd wonder why he wasn't replying, often then asking weird questions. Even worse, showing pity toward him. Those were the worst. Like he didn't have enough reasons to be depressed. Being born mute, you were used to it. It wasn't that big a deal. He really hoped this guy wasn't one of those...

[Anzeh]

Renard watched the other and wondered, silently, why he wasn't saying anything. Then it dawned on him that this person might not be able to speak or hear him. Sucking in his lip he lifted up his hands and signed something in medium speed, just in case he couldn't read it too well. Renard was always worried about hurting other's feelings. Sometimes it made others mad. He didn't want people to be mad at him.

"Can you not talk?" Renard signed to the boy, hoping to get a response this time.

[RuetheDay]

Ciardha perked up at this. How rare was it someone who could speak knew sign language? Quite rare. His parents never got it for the time they were around. Nor did anyone else he'd ever known... Though he never knew anyone long... They all left him at some point. Or in most cases, he would leave them, to avoid hurting them, or rather to shield himself from others. Again with the melancholy thoughts...

Ciardha shook his head "No", then signing back: "I have never been able to." He smiled nervously as he awaited a reply.

[Anzeh]

Renard didn't know how rare it was for people not know how to speak and understand sign language. All he knew was that people who couldn't speak or hear had to have someone to help them communicate with other people using this method. His parents thought that it would be useful in reality sometime, like when he met someone who couldn't talk or hear. The chances of that weren't high, but it would be interesting to see at the very least.

When he saw that he couldn't speak and never could, Renard thought. After some time, the kitsune lifted his hands and, pausing as though he didn't know what he wanted to convey, he managed to, very slowly, as though he was creating the thought as he relayed it to the other, "Oh, really? Must not be very fun."

[RuetheDay]

Ciardha replied slowly, with a nervous smile. "When you were born that way, you learn to get over it. No big deal really..."

It didn't suck but it wasn't really any fun either... So many misunderstandings, so many people that would get all careful about what the said... And those pitiful looks... Most incredibly annoying.

It was nice for others to sympathize with you but honestly, after almost you've met has done it. It becomes stale, bland and often bothersome to deal with. Ciardha blinked his yellow eyes at the floor now as he studied the lines of the planks carefully as he awaited the others reply.

[Anzeh]

Silently, Renard nodded that made sense. When you were born without the ability to speak, you kind of got used to it all, and it stopped bothering. Your envy for those that could talk slowly wanes out of existence, and all you would feel is annoyance at everyone for not understanding that even though you couldn't do something didn't make you incapable of anything. It just meant that you couldn't speak. You could still communicate through your writing, you could still communicate through sign like they were doing right now.

This was why all this stuff was created.

"I guess that's true." The kitsune signed to the mute boy. "If it's been around since you were born, you kind of stop... thinking about it."

There was a long pause. Then he looked down and broke eye contact, shyly signing this next part. "I don't think you're different from anyone else just because you can't talk."

Another really long pause, then Renard brightened up and this time talked instead of signed. "Ah, but even if you can't talk, you can still hear, right?"

[RuetheDay]

Ciardha nodded "Yes." with a truly genuine smile. It was really a first to find someone who truly got it.

"Most do, its nice to find someone who doesn't think that way. Its refreshing..." There was a bit of an awkward pause before Ciardha continued. Someone had to keep the conversation going though. "Judging by the box of materials related to the Drama Club's next production, I am guessing you are a part of it?" He signed.

Ciardha hopped off the edge of the stage to instead lean against it casually.

[Anzeh]

Renard glanced at the mute boy and sighed lightly, playing with his fingers, his shyness taking hold of him again. He just couldn't help but think how fortunate it was for him to meet someone who didn't beat him up for being "that way", but his mind always had to ruin a good thing.

The young kitsune couldn't help but take notice of the other, whom was taller than him by a good half-a-foot. Practically crushing one hand in the other, he hung his head and bit his lip.

He's not like me, the younger thought to himself, trying to keep himself from crying. There's no one like me. I'm all alone.

With Draner's encouragement, he pushed back the tears and lifted himself onto the stage and picked up the box, putting it back down in the center of the stage before going back to the edge and sitting down upon it with his legs dangling down.

"Yeah. I don't have a big role..." Renard signed, not trusting his voice not to crack or falter. "I'm more like, random, generic henchmen number one."

[RuetheDay]

Ciardha could practically feel the uneasiness of the other boy, as well as a overcoming melancholy that created an air of awkwardness that was most sudden. He studied what he could of silver haired boy's expression. It was more than a little obvious he was upset... Perhaps, bring up the play was a bad idea due to his small part... Ciardha felt really bad about it.

This was the first bit of human contact he had had in months and right as things began to go well, he had managed to hurt the others feelings it only a few words. He knew he was a monster, but this was terrible. And even with that he could not quite tell why he felt this bad... nor did he know how he had managed to feel so attached to this guy so easily without even knowing his name.

"I am sorry. I am sure you are actually a really good actor, more than likely deserving a better part." Ciardha signed back, blushing a very light tint of red which showed even that lightly, quite obviously on his snow white skin. "I did not mean to offend you if I had managed to..."

[Anzeh]

Renard sighed, kicking slightly back and forth as he tried not to look at the other one. Maybe if he didn't look he'd forget all about him being there, he wouldn't think about what couldn't have been. He would just go about each day being rejected and beaten for being the was he was. Maybe, just maybe, the other male wouldn't seek him out again. Maybe he'd be allowed to sulk and be upset in silence.

But that was stupid! Shaking his head, he turned back to Dunn and, smiling sadly, signed, "You didn't offend me. You're very nice to me. Thank you." His hands dropped to his sides and he pulled his knees into his chest staring back into the auditorium. Maybe if he sat like this all the answers would come to him.

Suddenly, a genuine smile came to his face, and he turned to the mute boy. "What's your name? My name's Renard."

[RuetheDay]

A rush of happiness overcame Ciardha, he had nearly worried himself into a guilt induced melancholy. Something about Renard's smile put him at ease, he became less tense, leaning more against the stage, he really felt a bit more comfortable with him. There was something really soothing about Renard's presence that affected him in a way that affected him so he just could not help but smile back radiantly. Tossing his shoulder length ivory hair out of his face he signed back contently. "I'm Ciardha."

He found himself blushing again, something about Renard seemed to cause this, he could not quite tell exactly why. Something about him. He wanted to say attractive but... this made Ciardha blush more. He didn't know why that was the first word that came too mind... He could not recall ever thinking of anyone in that matter... and suddenly a complete stranger? Ciardha always believed himself an asexual, he could not have love, it was simply out of general fact. Who could possibly love a bloodsucking monster whom couldn't control their cravings... He did not in the least "like" himself, so how could the love of another even be reachable?

It was a worthless though probably best shoved aside. Under minded. Ignored. Forgotten.

If only it were that easy.

He en specially did not deserve another, someone he had felt an attachment to would not be safe being around him, they would only end up getting hurt in the long run, this little incident he could not let change his mind about this subject. It was for their sake after all. He was better off isolated in which there was no way he could hurt anyone again... Till he could truly control himself.

Ciardha looked away sadly, leaving an unintended awkward pause. He hated how right he was...

[Anzeh]

Renard was glad, for the moment, that the awkward silence was gone. That now they were talking again, about things that weren't weird. Not about significant others (not that the kitsune had any of those) and just about them. There was nothing awkward about that, was there? He hoped not. He didn't want to ruin something that could be very good for himself.

He hadn't been able to turn away from the other when he tossed his hair out of his face. He admired how nice it was. In fact, it looked a lot like his hair, except unlike Ciardha, he wasn't an albino. Renard had silver hair, which was indeed a pigment--it was sort of greyish. But the other's hair looked so nice, so... the word pretty didn't come to mind, in fact, his entire mind went totally blank. He couldn't think of a single word to identify his hair.

All of a sudden, he flushed and looked away. WHY was he giving so much thought to describing his hair? Surely he had better things to do than that.

Then the silence came. The damned awkward silence. He was looking away, and he could feel his sadness and the depression that plagued Ciardha's form. Could it be possible that the mute male beside him was like him? That he was that way, just like Renard was? A flicker of hope came onto his face, but his forced it back down. It was too early to be thinking about things like that.

"Are you alright?" Renard asked when he turned away, not wanting to make him turn back around to sign to him.

[RuetheDay]

Ciardha looked away sadly, with an inaudible sigh, then signed back shyly. "Its nothing really. I am fine." His yellow eyes more then obviously shone something else though, there was no way to deny that as they scanned the floor in the quiet of yet another silence.

After past experience, over the years, nearly killing the ones he held closest... Countless friends he had isolated himself from, he was a killer best left alone. He couldn't risk his nature to chase such falsities... He really didn't want to end up hurting someone else, even if it meant completely detaching himself from all others. They were all better off without him.

It was more than likely the same case with Renard...

Renard probably did not even like him in that manor anyway. These feelings were meaningless and stupid. It was an indefinite weakness he would have to learn to overcome... this yearning for the company of others.

He hated it.

How even when in essence what he had done by turning everyone away was for their own good... it gripped his insides with a wretched pain that never seemed to leave. A void that would always be empty. Always.