Seeds of Yesterday -Aisha-

[JULIUS FORTESCUE]

"My brothers, what use is it for a man to say he has faith when he does nothing to show it? Can that faith save him? Suppose a brother or a sister is in rags with not enough food for the day, and one of you says, 'Good luck to you, keep yourselves warm, and have plenty to eat', but does nothing to supply their bodily needs, what is the good of that? So with faith; if it does not lead to action, it is in itself a lifeless thing." James 2:14-17.

Stationed at the gardens, Father Julius Fortescue had a table set up, his Priestly robes billowing in the December air- though it was oddly warm for this time of year. Still, he wore gloves and and a scarf. He looked oddly happy on this day, a pleased smile softening his hard features. The generally cold blue eyes were filled with a subtle warmth as he did his work, as he felt greatly at peace with himself. It was a charitable time of year, that dreadful Max had gone away to cease corrupting his brother, and on this day he was doing the Lord's work.

On the table was a box full of donated cloths- hats and gloves and scarves and winter boots- ready for the desolate and wayward to pick from. On the other end, where Julius stood, was a large crock pot full of bouillabaisse and ratatouille- both being his Mother's recipe. Both hardy and warming meals that would fill the bellies of the hungry for quite some time. The smell of the fish stew warmed his nostrils, and something close to nostalgia came over him. He'd have to bring a bit to Alexander. That would please his little brother. There was a jug of coffee, and a jug of hot cocoa for children, as well as Styrofoam dishes for people to eat from. In the center of the table was a near empty pot, ready for donations, though that was not the purpose for this venture.

An older woman blessed him, her toothless smile beaming with appreciation for the free meal and thick scarf. With a gentle voice that attempted to rise over his usual disdain for society, Julius waves her gratitude away. The Lord has no favorites at the poor man's expense, but listens to his prayer when he is wronged." Julius had a habit of quoting the bible when applicable when he had no emotional investment in particular situations, yet no one seemed to really noticed. He did sincerely wish to help them of course, but one could not empathize with what they did not know. That was why he gave them a piece from the bible, so they may find it as comforting as he.

More came for food, and they drifted away as they finished their food. It was well enough, as Julius was not a terribly social person. He was content to be with the winter plants in the garden surrounding him. Another came up the line, as the crowd had faded, and he looked down at the soup, and prepared himself to be sociable. "Good day, my child. Would you care for some bouillabaisse? There are nine sorts of fish in it... or perhaps ratatouille? It is a blessing to have such warm food on such a brisk day, non?..."

[AISHA]

The tunnels were getting harder, and harder to sleep in. Waking up in the morning without the sound of Max’s drumming or singing, or without the delicate scratch of Promie crawling across her face, made the place seem more empty. Desolate. Aisha slipped off her mattress, sliding to the side while she rubbed her face and stretched her jaw in a yawn. Slowly, she pushed to her feet, and shuffled out of the small room, pushing the blanket aside that worked as a door and walked down the hall. She paused at each room, and felt her heart ache. Aisha still hadn’t managed to be able to resist, and she pushed aside each blanket. No Max. No Alex.

The final room broke her heart more than anything. No Kiddo. Some of her toys were still about, the Scrabble Game that she loved so much still lay in the corner where they had their last game. Kiddo had been helping Aisha learn how to spell and read, when she disappeared.

After stopping by her house weeks ago, her Grandma let loose some ramble that Kiddo was going to a new home, and Aisha had stumbled away stunned. Everyone had left for one reason or another. Her brothers, her sister. Occasionally she saw Alex in town, and he stopped by when she was dancing to see how she was doing—but regardless. Their family was broken down, shattered. The little world of the tunnels was their Court of Miracles, and now it felt horrible empty. But still having a sense of preservation, they were probably the safest place for her to be. Regardless, Aisha was not to be confined. And pulling on a thin, ratty jacket over her even thinner shirt, she climbed up the ladder and out of the tunnels.

The cold air that hit her face was a little shocking in comparison to the warm fire in the tunnels. She shook out her dark hair, and let out a huff of air while she shivered, trying to adjust to the temperature. It started out as just a walk in the park, scoping out any changes to Central as she did every day. However, this time she let her feet lead her, take her to wherever it willed. It lead her to the outdoor walkways with leaves and vines overhanging, large, green gardens that were maintained even in the dead of winter. It didn’t look as alive as it did in the spring, but there was still an unfamiliar comfort to the place.

Aisha’s nose caught the smell of something though, something warm, and something that made her mouth water. Sniffing like an animal, she followed the scent until she saw what it was. A few of the homeless were shuffling away from the table, some nursing bowls of steaming food. Far was it from the hot dogs sold around the park that she usually managed to steal, or the cold sandwiches she was able to afford every now and then. Hot, and warm did that food look, and it made her painfully empty stomach growl. As she moved closer to the man in the robes, she recognized him and a smile crossed over her face. Walking up, she noticed his head was down, yet he was speaking to her.

“Good day, my child. Would you care for some bouillabaisse? There are nine sorts of fish in it…or perhaps ratatouille? It is a blessing to have such warm food on such a brisk day, non?...”

“I actually have no idea what either one of those are. It’s not made with real rats, is it?” Aisha asked curiously, raising her brows, her piercing blue eyes all for Julius’ face. It didn’t hold there for very long before she was looking at the soup, and she sighed gratefully. It smelled great, even if it was made with rats. And…was that hot cocoa? Her stomach growled again, and she absently placed her stomach over it. The simple smell of the heat of the food was enough to stop the shivers that were crawling up her back, and she looked up at Julius one more time, a friendly smile on her tanned face. “How about you surprise me, Father? I trust your judgement.”

OUTFIT

[JULIUS FORTESCUE]

Julius looked up when he heard the familiar voice, a friendly smile on his sharply featured face. Aisha, Max's supposed sister. Julius had suspected that then, and suspected it now. He wondered if the vagrant had left behind Aisha as well, as he had done Alexander. Good, thought Julius, better that they serve God without the temptations that man provided. "Aisha! Bonjour." Pouring her a ladle full of bouillabaisse in the Styrofoam bowl, Julius handed it to her. "Bouillabaisse, my Mother's recipe and a favorite of Alexander's. It is very delicious, I assure you. Hearty and warm, good for days like this." Julius concerned himself for a moment with tidying the table, careful not to stare at her. It was a habit of his that had unnerved people since his youth. His stare was penetrating, as he seemed to search people for a particular light.

There was certainly a light about Aisha, one that was of much interest to Julius, as he could not put his finger on it. It was interesting, familiar, and dangerous.

Giving her a brief smile, he straightened the folding on the cloths in the box. Untidy people, a true peeve of his. "How have you been? I understand that your brother has made himself scarce. I do hope you all is well." He hoped, quite sincerely, that the devil had finally taken the Piper-like entrancer. He hoped he would never darken their doorways again, and would leave Alexander- and, in fact Aisha's- hearts free. She did not look quite put together, as often the case with the resident homeless. He had spent enough time doing charitable acts like today and time at the soup kitchen to be able to spot them from a mile away. "Ah, vous regarde. Ce pull fera pas...Tu vas prendre ta mort comme ça." "Ah, look at you. That sweater will not do... You will catch your death like that." He spoke in french, obviously more for his own benefit than hers.

Taking a feather down jacket from the box, he circled around the table, and wrapped the coat around her shoulders. "Ah, much better. You should take care to dress warmer, Aisha. You would not want to become sick." With a kind smile, he stepped out of her bubble, not before getting a whiff of her odor. Far more pleasant than the other homeless that he had met, for certain. Sweeter and more fragrant. "Tell me, what do you think of the stew?" He asked, distracting himself quickly from his own imagination.

[AISHA]

Aisha watched with a pleasant smile on her face while he poured the Bouillabaisse into a bowl, and took it from him and sighed. The heat came through the bowl, warming her fingers. Just the smallest bit of warmth was a relief. She picked up a plastic spoon, dipping it in the bowl while she blew on it softly, only to take it into her mouth. Aisha then paused for a moment, her shoulders slumping while her head tilted back ever so slightly. She could feel the heat slide down her throat, and warm her from the inside out. “This is wonderful. I can see why Alex likes it so much.” It took a great, great amount of restrain not to raise the bowl to her mouth and swallow it all down. Civilized, civilized. She could be civilized. Had it been Alex, or anyone else—she would have inhaled the soup without a second thought.

Her shoulder raised up to shrug at her question, and she fully intended to answer when she managed to pull the spoon away from her mouth. However, the other have of his sentence stopped her from answering him. Her blue eyes stared at Julius, the bowl and spoon still in her hands; but she felt like she had been stabbed right in the gut. Her eyes lowered while she stared into the stew that suddenly seemed less appetizing, and pushed around a chunk of fish with the spoon. “U-uh…well…” How could she even begin to explain? He left and she didn’t know where to, and she was alone. Alex was there every so often, but it was how it was before that fateful day in the park. On her own, as it had always been. “I don’t think it’s at all well.” She murmured, her voice almost lost between his words in a different language.

Unbeknownst to her, she understood what he said. It wasn’t at the forefront of her mind, but the French was a gentle murmur to her, comforting somehow. She knew the inflictions, she felt the comfort. It shouldn’t have, since her group when she was a child spoke Romanian, not French. So if anything gave her a sense of nostalgia and home, it should have been Romanian. Not French, and there it was, making her feel safe when her insides had chilled again. She bobbed slightly on her feet while Julius wrapped the jacket around her shoulders, and a small, almost tired smile crossed her face while she rested the spoon in the bowl to pull the jacket closer. “Thank you, Father Julius.” She murmured, setting her bowl down to push her arms through the sleeves to keep the jacket from completely falling off.

It was a nice jacket, warm. Clean. She turned her head to rest her face against her covered shoulder, just breathing in the scent for a moment. She cleaned her clothes in the lake in Central Park, so they always smelled soapy. Or had a lack of smell from just the plain water. But the detergent in the jacket painted a picture of a home, what one would look like. Finally, she pulled her face away from it and lifted the bowl in her hands to continue with her stew. “You should teach Alex how to make it, that way I can pester him to make it for me.” She forced a grin onto her face, though it felt like her face was cracking. It faded from her face while she looked away from Julius, taking another bite, chewing on a piece of fish. “Has…” Her brows furrowed slightly; Julius was probably the most wrong person to ask. But there was an edge of desperation in her voice that made it shake a little more than she liked. “Has Alex heard…anything from Max?”

[/b] She looked back at Julius, her eyes darting across his face, looking for any flicker in his features that would give him away.

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OUTFIT

[JULIUS FORTESCUE]

Nothing she said shocked Julius. How could he be shocked that a devil would act like a devil? This Max, who still held Aisha and Alexander's affection, even after his shadow had ceased to cast upon their door frame, had abandoned them. He had taken their love and just left them to feel a life without his presence. He was cruel, in Julius's opinion. Cruel. He merely nodded grimly as she confessed her poor state, her blue eyes filled with sadness that dwelt there for years and years. "I would not trust him in the kitchen, I am afraid. He is a very absent minded boy..." Julius laughed fondly, circling back around to the other side of the table. It was good to have a buffer...

He poured more lost sheep bowls of the stew, ears piquing at Aisha's plea for hope. Had Alexander heard from Max? Julius did not wish to be harsh or cruel to the foolish girl, for one could not help who the heart loved. Alexander had tested this fact many times. "As far as I know, he has not Mademoiselle... Though it is only a question that Alexander himself could answer." With a heavy sigh, Julius shook his head. "A year or two ago, I would have been able to tell you. I knew Alexander quite well, once upon a time. But I am afraid that was far too long ago, and he has grown away from me." There was a genuine sadness to his voice, as his mind turned hatefully to Max. All was well, until that man had tainted their lives.

With a gentle gaze that concealed his harshness, Julius eyes grew curious. "Did Alexander tell you that it was I who raised him? Our parents died when he was very young... and I'm sure you can see the age difference between us." Julius stirred the stew, to keep the bottom from burning on the bunson burner. "Because of my choice to take the cloth, Alexander is the closest thing I have to a son. And my love for him is a dangerous cross between brother and father... You have seen me be harsh with him. I know I do.... You see, God does not always grant me patience." The gravity her bore made him looked aged by near a decade, as he considered his words. It was a strange outpouring to this girl, especially as he did not know what to expect. Perhaps a diplomat, a hope that Alexander could still be reached. Or, perhaps, merely for a confidant.

"I was wary of that man, that Max from the beginning. I can see you love him, much as I love Alexander, and bless you for a forgiving heart. But I bare no love for that him beyond that of my duty to care for all of God's creatures." To Julius, Max was more creature than man. A despoiler, a vagrant, a monster, a demon. "But he has left Alexander- who I have cared- for quite broken and in pain. The light has gone from his eyes... and it hurts my heart greatly. He was my families miracle. It is my duty to protect him..." Julius almost sounded like he was trying to explain for an action he was unsure of, that he had yet to take. But, God reveals all in time. "Can you understand that? To find something so very precious, that you would do anything to protect it, Aisha?"

[AISHA]

Alex, absentminded? Aisha could see it. It made a real smile peek out from beneath the fake one she had been showing, even allowed a small chuckle to come from her throat. In the beginning, she had hated his guts. Hated that he was so clean, envied him for being clean, for having a bed. But he willingly stayed down in the tunnels with them; not all the time, but it was becoming more and more frequent. He was getting dirt around the nails, and the fact that he seemed to love Max just as much as she did seemed to help.

It was bringing Cassie down into the tunnels that really solidified Aisha’s standing with Alex, choosing one blonde over the other. Her attention was drawn away from her memories, looking up at Julius as he explained. She was almost able to see his words age him, and though she felt nervous around him, the way he spoke of Alex. “Max comes across very strange, a bit rude.”

[/b] She laughed slightly at the thought, and looked down again, her words threatening to choke her, “But he is a wonderful person, he’d never let anything bad happen to us. He cared for Alex and I, and we for him. And Alex…”

Aisha laughed again, though this time tears blurred her vision. “Alex, I didn’t like him much in the beginning. But, he’s much like my brother too. I know you worry for him, Father Julius. And I know you know my situation, but while he’s under my eye, I won’t let any harm come to him.”[/b] She rested her hand over her heart sincerely, looking up at him, swallowing hard and blinking back the tears. “Something had to have happened to Max, he wouldn’t just leave Alex. Leave me, us. He wouldn’t do that.” She drew in a shaking breath, pushing her hand through her black hair. The hatred that had started to settle in over Max leaving was suddenly washed away by Julius’ words.

They were a family, they had always been a family. For Max to suddenly leave...something happened. Something bad, he wouldn’t have left his Angel, or his Blue behind like that. “Alex and Max…they are my family also. I was alone for a very, very long time, Father Julius. My own family abandoned me when I was little, I’ve never known any different. I kept to myself, made my money, and moved on to the next spot. Max showed me what family was, as did Alex. I love them both, and they are both very precious to me, and I would do anything to protect them.” She raised her head a little bit, jutting her chin out with a sudden pride, though her jaw was clenched tightly, and wavering. “I can understand.” She held herself strong for just a moment, one last burst of strength before she slowly seemed to collapse in on herself.

“I just wish I know where he went. I haven’t seen Alex for a while, and Max has disappeared. I’m alone again, and I want my family back.” It was childish sounding, silly almost. She kept her head down, though the tears finally gave way to her face, leaving small tracks on her skin where it cleared away the dirt on her tanned cheeks. Her heart was breaking all over again while the realization finally settled in that her family was gone. “Je veux ma famille. Je veux ma famille. Vreau familia mea.” The words were so soft, so quiet. The first time, it was a language that she only heard spoken from Julius and Alexander’s mouth. To her, it sounded like an incoherent sound coming out of her mouth, brought on by the tears that were pushing harder out of her eyes. The last was a language long ago forgotten, spoken by her family, but reached by grief to allow her to remember the words. All the while, strong, tough Aisha finally let her guard down around the priest.
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OUTFIT