What's an illusion? (Brooke)

[Evani Monroe]

The cold, misty dew of morning hung in the air, clinging to everything that fell in its grasp. Unlike the rest of the established part of the city – which was littered with cement, concrete, and just about every piece of dirt and grime that came with it – the graveyard had life. It was an odd thing to say, no? But it was true – out there was a concrete jungle of death and blood stains. In the place that should have been dead and desolate, however, was life. It was in the crops planted by the man a few of the Fulsi knew as Ira – he was a farmer who tended to his crops very attentively. In doing so, he’d somehow managed to make the enclosed area almost like Eden.
Access was restricted, and that was no surprise – there were very important crops of fruits and vegetables there that the ring relied on. It had so much more to offer, however! How could someone pass up the simple delight of rolling around on the grass? There were bits and pieces scattered around the area that weren’t in charge of growing anything other than lush blades of grass and wildflowers. She loved those areas the most. Maybe they were similar to weeds, but they still had an aesthetic feel to them that couldn’t be reckoned with. And so, the medic had stayed there all night. The morning dew clung to some of the fibers in her fur like bugs to a spider web – they bubbled up on the tips of the longer strands and stayed there, perched with perfect balance. There were dozens of them just laying there – it was a temporary sight. If someone were to brush their hand against her fur, the entire thing would turn into a catastrophe and rather than being perfect little spheres, their surface tension would break and she’d be soaked.
But alas, that circumstance wasn’t in her near future, so she didn’t really care.
After a while, morning’s light finally started sinking in through her eyelids, drawing her out from sleep and forcing her to wake up. She resisted with a great deal of stubbornness, but in the end, she was no match for the blinding light that had started to seep in. She couldn’t just lay there anymore – at least, not with her face looking right at the sun.
She shifted back to her human form, green eyes opening with a somewhat optimistic expression in their depths. Every day was a clean slate for her. Usually people hung on to the things that had happened the previous day or a slew of emotional baggage that they brought with them, but she did things a bit differently. Each day was new, and it held new opportunities – opportunities that she exploited to the best of her ability.
There was no telling what she’d get herself in for the day, but whatever it was, it was sure to be interesting.

Rather than think about where to go or what to do, she instantly set off to work. A glimpse of flowers from the corner of her eye caught her attention, and she reached out for them. Time passed quickly from where, almost soaring by as she busied herself with the small things. It wasn’t anything productive, nor was it something that she figured the Fulsi would look upon as a good way to pass the time.. but however they felt about it, she didn’t care much.
As a little kid, she’d found refuge from her daily troubles whenever she started making crowns from flowers and blades of grass. As insignificant as it was, it somehow calmed her spirit.. so she never really grew out of it, even in the midst of all the turmoil between the rings.

And so she stayed there for almost an hour, stringing a few crowns together. One was made entirely of little white flowers, while the other two were a bit more colorful.
Finally feeling satisfied with the outcome, she turned her attention elsewhere, letting her eyes shift across the cemetery landscape.
If she was lucky, the farmer wouldn’t care too much about her being there – if he could even see her over the height of his crops, that was.
A soft smirk washed over her expressions for the flicker of a second and as soon as the small thought had crossed her mind, she was off. Using her shift, she climbed her way up one of the nearby trees, morphing back to normal as soon as she was up on a sturdy branch. The view was far better from there, even if it wasn’t exactly a skyscraper.
The crowns remained on the ground where she’d made them, catching some sunlight next to the patch that the flowers had been picked from.
She eyed the area a bit more for a while, hardly a relevant thought crossing her mind.
She didn’t exactly have a job for the day. Medics were always just hanging around, floating by the ring’s masses and waiting for someone to need them. Rather than roaming the Gospel Complex's empty, dark hallways, she was far more content sitting where she was.

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[atrb=background,http://i33.photobucket.com/albums/d97/mewcheery1/didibackground3.png] Normally, Dieter Kyler Weiss didn't stoop to eating bugs, but when you're starving, then there isn't much else to eat. He fluttered his white wings and he coasted down from a tree limb. He had spent the night in one of the beautiful trees in the garden. Normally, he didn't come here because the food was so tempting, but he had needed to get away from everyone in his ring, just for the night. When he landed, he closed his white wings, bobbing his neck in the process. He glanced around him, ruffling feathers, as he checked to make sure no one was watching him. His head quickly darted down into the grass, snatching up a bug and crunching it in the process. He would have blanched a heaved if he was in human form, but, as he was, he just darted forward again to sentence another bug to its untimely death. Why did they all have to be so crunchy? He was still picking his way around the grass when he spotted several crowns made of flowers. He used to make those with his mother. She'd laugh and put them on him and they'd giggle together about what a handsome prince or beautiful princess he would make. He blinked once, then trice, before he lowered his head to try and slip one of the crows over his small head and onto his slender neck. Once this was accomplished, he loosed a warbling cry, allowing his tail to raise, present a huge white back drop. If there was one thing he loved about his shift form, it was his gorgeous amount of white feathers. The color almost perfectly matched his long, white blond hair in his human form. He bobbed his head again, warbling till, as he strutted around a bit, reliving memories of him and his mother. (Oh, my god! this is so short -dies-)

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