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http://www.gaiaonline.com/guilds/viewtopic.php?t=23729945
steff x lark

http://www.gaiaonline.com/guilds/viewtopic.php?t=23790559 - roch
http://www.gaiaonline.com/guilds/viewtopic.php?t=23788523 - kettil

She's got a lot to think about.

She's twelve years old.

It's her birthday, and the birthday where all of her family has summoned their weapons. Her parents are chatting excitedly. A scythe? A knife? A sword? What will Lark's weapon be? She holds out her hands, expecting something fantastic. A giant bowie knife. A boomerang. A pair of bolas. A sword. A staff. A shield. Anything.

Anything.

She gets a kangaroo. A kangaroo whose name is Ben.

The gasps of horror from her parents and relatives will always echo in her mind.



She's thirteen years old.

They work well together. They grow strong together. Ben is her closest confidante. He knows things about her that even Kettil does not. He's there for her always, and when she wants to be alone he is gone. It is some small comfort knowing that she is never alone, never truly alone, and it is also a huge worry. Her feelings and emotions are never her own, and while there is a novelty to it, the novelty comes and goes.

It comes and goes.

It goes.



She's fourteen years old.

She's filled with anger. Resentment. Her parents are uncomfortable around her, and she understands that. She's uncomfortable around herself. This is not how this was supposed to go. This was not what she wanted with her life. She hides Ben more than she lets him out - until they're in private, and then he's free to roam. He feels like he's failed her. He's not the failure. She is. She can't convince him.

They fail together.

They're fast. They're smart. They're agile. They are two pieces of the same being.

It isn't enough.



She's fifteen years old.

She's angry more often than not. She's alone at home. Her parents travel. There's food in the fridge, dear. There's drinks there too. We'll be gone a week.

They're gone two. They're gone three. Sometimes they're gone four, and after it happens time and time again Lark stops counting the days until they return. She starts counting the time in between, instead. She likes having the house to herself. She likes being able to do what she wants. She likes not having to answer to anyone.

She likes. She likes. She likes.

She lies.

She lies to herself.

She hates being home alone. She hates not having the comfort of her mother and father. She hates not knowing what to do with herself. She hates feeling like a constant failure. She hates herself more and more each day. She is not enough, and she is a poor daughter, and that is why they never come home. They want to forget her.

She wants to forget herself.



She's sixteen years old.

You're going to school, they tell her, and they brook no argument. She doesn't want to go. She doesn't want to go, but it makes sense that they're sending her away. She's never been anything but a disappointment to them, to herself, to everyone else in the family. She resents Ben more and more, and she feels awful about it. She only wants to be happy, and the saddest part is that she knows she never will be. There will always be that piece of her - that Benji part of her - that will never be what it was supposed to be.

She fights with them. She screams. She yells. She cries. She slams the door and it knocks a picture off the wall. She likes how the glass sounds when it shatters on the floor. She doesn't care. She hears someone sweep it up.

Good.

She hates them. She hates everyone. She hates herself the most.



She's seventeen years old.

School hasn't been that bad. She's made a few friends. She's learned a few things. She's gotten stronger. She still hasn't gone to see her parents. They don't call. They don't write. There's a monthly stipend from her father, and she knows they feel guilty. Like they've done something wrong. Maybe they have. She stops caring.



She's eighteen years old.

Life goes on. It slows down. She loses friends. She doesn't make more. She's fallen into a pit of self loathing, and nothing she can do makes it better. She resents herself, she resents Ben. She resents her parents, and she resents the fact that they've divorced despite her being away. She's sick of it all. Sick of never being what everyone expected her to be. She's sick of school. She's sick of feeling so tired. She wants more, but she can't have it.



She's nineteen years old.

If there was a way for her to never come back into existence, she'd take that road. She finds out there is a way for that to happen. She's curious. She's intrigued. She wants more. She wants to be numb. She wants to forget. She wants to be alone, and yet, at the same time, she doesn't.

She's tired. She's got a lot to think about.

Decisions don't come easy. She makes the one that will allow for no turning back. It feels right, deep in her chest. It feels like everything will be okay.

She's got time. She's only got time. One more day, she asks, and it's granted. It's taken her some time to gather up the courage, but once she's alone again - and the first time she sees the hunter in question - she approaches him. Her question is simple, and she does not lead up to her desires with pretty words or long explanations. She doesn't need to, because it's right there in her eyes, and Tuck understands.

"May I sit with Herryk for a while?"

After a short, short internal debate -- Herryk does not know this ghoul, Herryk cannot remember -- Lark walks with him to the pods. As though it's some kind of private moment, as though they'll need some time to talk before they meet her, she waits outside the door.

He is big, and he is wide, and he is dark and he is confused - but Lark takes his hand and they walk. She is quiet and he allows it, because while she is quiet, he is confused and there are many thoughts that need to be worked through.

Finally they stop walking. It is as far as she can go while on the leash they have her on, but it is a small, secluded place and it is quiet and the very best place for them to talk.

"Y' ain't gonna remember me, an' that's okay. I'm Lark. Larkspur. Thing is, I remember you, an' while it ain't always been the best between us, 'at's all in th' past, yeah? I unnerstan' that y'lose y'mem'ries when y'become a weapon. So I'ma fergit th'past, an' y'don't gotta worry 'bout it, neither."

His thick brows furrow, but he nods and continues listening, only because his gut tells him that's exactly what she needs.

"I'ma be like y'are. I'ma be a weapon. I made th'decision t'do it. But I jest... d'ya think y'regret it?"

There's a fire in her eyes that belies the meekness of her words, and he has so many questions of his own that he wants to ask - but he doesn't, because he feels like the answer he's about to give far outweighs the value of any of the questions he might have.

"No."

The answer is simple. That single word causes a smile to break across her face, a bright and beautiful thing that lights up her almost-plain face, turns it into something nearly spectacular.

He continues, only because he thinks that if he does, it might mean some kind of reciprocation.

"Herryk does not regret it, not ever. Herryk is Theodore's. Theodore is Herryk's. It is a bond that can never be broken, little one. It is something that can never be taken away except in death - and even then, death is something that is done together. Herryk is never alone, not anymore - except when Herryk is here, like Herryk is with Lark. And then it is not such a bad thing, either, because there are many friends to make and many things to see - even if it is through the eyes of Herryk's Theodore."

He falls silent. He watches her, almost broodingly.

She's quiet, lost in thought. He leaves her to it, and refrains from mentioning that their time is short. It doesn't matter, not really. He'll spend every last second here, sitting by her side, if that's what it takes.

She's already made the decision, but what he says makes it easier to leave everything else behind. It might be lonely, just for a while, and she realizes that. It will take some getting used to, and she understands that, too. But in the end, she won't be alone any longer. In the end, she'll have someone of her very own, just like Herryk. She wonders, if only for the briefest moment, if this has all happened for a reason. From her creation until this very moment, has everything been leading her to this path?

The answer is - the answer has always been - yes.

They walk back towards the small room nearly an hour later. Before they say good bye for good, big strong arms pick her up and lift her off the floor against his chest. Herryk hugs her, simply because it's what feels right in that exact moment. And she does not fight it, because it feels like it's exactly what she needs right then and there.

"Goodbye, little Lark. I will find you on the other side, when Lark is here for all time, and Herryk and Lark will sit on the sand and throw rocks into the ocean. Do not be afraid, little Lark."

She waits outside the small room again, and when Tuck comes out by himself she throws her arms around him and softly whispers, "Thank you."

This has been exactly what she's needed.