C:

Charles flipped lazily through his new textbook. "You'd think they would've found a cure by now..." He murmured occasionally. Tired, he tossed the book over his shoulder and stood up to stretch. It had been over two years since his arrival in the New World, which as he had learned, was not very new at all. Two years since his discovery of magic, two years since his sister had passed away on the ship, and two years since he'd met Atticus.

Charles was sixteen now, and even though people say time heals, time did very little to mend his leg- he still walked with a slight limp, and every now and then, pain would blossom from his left calf.

Atticus watched Charles as the latter read his litle textbook of joy. Atticus chuckled to himself and pulled out a novel of his own. Pleasant reading always brought something to brighten the atmosphere, no matter how dark or dreary it may be. "So Charles, what are you reading on your side?"

"New surgical equipment." Charles flopped back down onto the bench and leaned up against Atticus. "What are you reading?"

Atticus scratched his head and turned to the cover of the book. "The Woman in White". Atticus had a favorite in ghost stories and asylum-related cases of whatsoever. He flopped down onto the floor and rummaged through the heap of books, and found nothing that suited his interest. Atticus sat down and leaned onto Charles for support, since he was too lazy to grab a chair. "Tell me a story..?"

"Sure." Charles rolled his eyes, "How about the tale of the supposedly sharpest scalpel ever created in the history of medicine? I'm sure you're interested." He sighed. "Do you ever wonder what happened to Akira and Ninnette? I've heard they've made something for themselves in Boston."

Atticus rubbed his temples in fatigue, and in slight disgust. "I don't really know. All I really remeber was Akira's fist meeting my forehead, then all I saw was black." In short, his sister and her doll knocked him out then ditched him. "I feel sorry for myself sometimes."Atticus muttered to himself in a twisted self-disgust.

"Oh." Charles said softly. "Sorry. I didn't know that..."

Atticus crookedly grinned. "It's alright. Sooner or later, that idiot is going to realize she can't live life without me, and before we know it, she's back with her dolly." And with great effort, Atticus picked up a medical mumbo-jumbo book lying near Charles's feet. "Hm. Lyme Disease, Receiving, Curing, and Living."

"Oh yes." Charles tapped on the cover, "A new disease we've found. The team has no idea what causes it yet though. Would you like to hear more? Or..." He put a hand on Atticus' shoulder and grinned.

Atticus wasn't very bright. "Huh?"

"Hm." Charles breathed, "It's not like we haven't done this before- I don't get why you wouldn't know..." He laced his fingers in with Atticus and pressed their foreheads together.

Atticus closed his eyes and frowned slightly. "Oh...Is that what you were trying to imply? I'm sorry, I didnt quite understand at first..." he murmured, as his lips met Charles's forehead and began to trail down to the latter's lips.

"Hmm..." Charles smiled into their embrace, and pulled back to breath, "We're outside... Perhaps not now." He swallowed thickly and started to pick up his books. "How about we continue inside?"

"Oh. Right, Christians." Atticus muttered under his breath. Gathering up his books, he followed Charles back into the house. Where was Akira right now anyways? Shouldn't she be coming back soon...? Like always...? Since they were children, whenever Akira wanted something, she'd run off to Atticus and beg. And now, Akira seemed to have a mind of her own. "Wonderful. Bitch grew up." Atticus muttered, adding a hearty forced laugh at the end. A forced gay-sounding laugh.

Charles smiled and closed the door behind them. "Nah, just modesty in general." He pressed Atticus up against the wooden table behind him.

"Wonderful. Bitch grew up." Charles froze. He could tell from Atticus' tone that it was probably about Akira, or something pertaining to her. "Would you like to talk about it? You wouldn't want a guilty conscience, now would you?"

Atticus shook his head. "Nothing...important. Continue on." Akira could rot on the side of a lonely street for all he cared, she probablay wouldn't give a damn if the same ever happened to him. Rot on a street, best way of death one could ever have.

Charles stopped at the junction between Atticus' shoulder and the nape of his neck, "You don't look like you want this. Are you sure you don't want to talk about it? I mean, real sister or not, she has been with you for a while now..." He was impatient, honestly- he felt that either Atticus was fully involved, or not at all.

Atticus sighed to himself and rubbed his head in fatigue. "Honestly, I don't even know myself sometimes", he began. "Akira,...She doesn't know things at all. She doesn't have this thirst for knowledge which most people have. The girl doesn't want to know anything..." He paused there, deep in thought. What didn't she know? "Our relationship..." Atticus muttered under his breath. "She doesn't know about our relationship as siblings...is false." There. He said it aloud to another. This is not going well, Atticus thought to himself.

Charles looked at him again, contemplating. After a moment's thought though, he unceremoniously flopped back down on Atticus. "I see. She's old now, I think she should be able to..." He stopped to nuzzle Atticus, "Know who her 'brother' really is. She has Ninnette after all, what's the problem?"

Atticus toyed with the fabric of Charles' shirt for a second or so. "Yes, I suppose she does." One could never be sure. Atticus would rather her get run over by a carriage rather die on the side of a lonely street.

Atticus gazed back into Charles's eyes, then pulled the other boy closer. "You know...For a guy, you have pretty alluring eyes..."he murmured silently, breath still hanging in the air.

He took a deep breath, smiling into Atticus' hair. "And you smell equally fragrant." Charles tugged at a corner of his shirt, "So, are you up for it?"

Atticus smiled crookedly once more. "Why of cour-" before, he could finish the sentence, the door banged open and a girl dressed in lacy black stepped into the room with yet another dazed-looking silver-haired female. The first girl lifted her hat, and her grey eyes met those of Atticus's. Smiling deviously, she spoke: "Nice to see you again, brother."

Atticus blinked. Was it just him,or did this girl seem a bit...poisonous? She had the appearance of Akira...but her personality had altered by all means. "Ninnette..." he mouthed. The doll didn't seem to have changed at all. A bit dazed-looking was all, but she had always been a bit dazed-looking.

Akira directed her black, embroidered parasol at Charles. "Ah, so we meet again," she sang venomously.

(( Long post~ Akira's kinda scaring me now... ))

"Akira." Charles nodded unenthusiastically in her direction, "Funny, because we were just discussing you." He turn back to Atticus, fully intending to ignore her and just get on with whatever he was doing.

Akira gazed at the two with disgust. Flipping her parasol ‘round and ‘round as if a dead rat, she marched back out the door with Ninnette trailing faithfully behind.
“Come along Arieaoninnette.�
“Yes master.�
Atticus watched the two women leave the room with secret satisfaction. Akira was a strange one, and her doll was also. “Well, now that she’s gone (good riddance)… Where were we again?� he questioned, while toying with a long strand of night-black hair, as he stared at Charles’s shirt with absolute interest.
( Atticus plays with everything he can get his hands on…o___o )

Charles shifted again, this time pulling Atticus up and on top of himself.