Chupe mantequilla de mi culo

[littlebean]

Times were hard. All over the planet countries were experiencing complete and utter devastation. People were dying and those left alive would suffer through starvation and disease. Monsters ravaged the earth, destroying everything with a breath in their path, trees, animals, people, you name it, including Yan's parents.

However, Yan hadn't a clue. Somehow the young child managed to be completely oblivious to the chaos around her. Actually, at the time she found that things were going quite well for her. When Yan's parents were killed she was given more freedom than any five year old could ever want. There was no bedtime, no time outs and no chores. So far Yan had lived off a diet of gathered vegetation and whatever water she found nearbuy. Sleeping was done in the dirt, but never had she frowned the entire time. Yan was enjoying her freedom, and using it the best way she knew how.

With her arms up and hands folded in front of her, Yan began to bounce up and down frantically. She was a bunny.

"BOINGY BOINGY BOINGY!" SHe hopped up and down as best as she could through the flowers, pretending to be a rabbit. "I'm a rabbit!" She stated to nobody in particular and continued on with her fun. Eventually a little brown furry head appeared out of the bushes and into the clearing where Yan jumped, looking for a meal. Immediately Yan spotted it.

Happy to see a fellow rabbit like herself she waved at it and gave it a proper hello. " Hi Mr Rabbit! Are you looking for carrots?" The rabbit paused and stared at her wide eyed, twitching his whiskers, hoping to God the tiny human wasn't going to hear it. Yan stopped too, to listen to what her friend had to say, and apparently heard something. She responded, "Oh good me too! Let's look together okay?" Then right down on all fours she began looking for carrots.

[Lemon]

On all fours was where Alec Lanning had spent his entire life. Scrubbing, scraping, painting, shining, perfecting, and signing. Signing away his life and the lives of any family he may have wrought from the bare and lifeless earth. Signing away the rights any human being would be and should be willing to fight and die for at a moment's notice. Alec signed willingly and without hesitation; he was not pressured nor pushed, prodded or otherwise punished during the events of the signing, but neither was there a gorgeous woman, beautiful man, or other golden tower of purchase acting as incentive for Alec Lanning's personal imprisonment. Alec was neither optimist nor pessimist but pragmatist instead. Was it not more practical to put one's specific abilities to practical use, even if eventually pointless? Certainly to proliferate ones line was not a pompous endeavor, but neither was it altruistic; not to say Alec's was--in fact it was most definitively not--but it was a kind of perpetual torture. A flagellation. A mockery of humanity. A wasted life. A lie. But what it was, for good or ill gave Alec purpose. Purpose to continue. Purpose to act. Purpose to breathe. The End removed Alec's purpose.

Without purpose, Alec came to ponder the ramifications of his life--or rather, that there were none. His master had gone to the afterlife, leaving Alec and his estate behind to rot alongside his corpse, but Alec himself would leave nothing of his own when he passed. He bore no children, changed no lives, and owned absolutely nothing. Not the clothes on his back nor even himself! Indeed to call it "his" back was a breach of contract. And so Alec Lanning decided to take a life that was not his into hands that belonged to another and hang by the neck of a slave until dead. Under the orchard of his master's estate and using a length of borrowed rope which he, admittedly, could not return, Alec stood up for the first time in thirty nine years and wondered if his late master would need his shirts pressed in purgatory.

[littlebean]

Yan was on all fours, and her hands were muckedn up good and proper from searching for carrots. Yan wasn't stupid and knew what they were like. They were long hard and orange and had green leaves at the top. However try as she might, she couldn't find anything like it. In her best attempt to gather carrots, she picked up everything orange she could find, like flowers, mushrooms and other plants that were anything but carrots. Her skirt was held up, and her findings dropped in them, exposing her undergarments without a single hint of shame. Often enough when she got confused she would consult her wise friend for help in her search.

"Find any yet Mr. Rabbit?" She asked. She hopped over to him as bet as she could with her items in her skip, some of them spilling out with every jump, and layed them out for her friend to see. The rabbit was hiding, but when it was presented with such a vast array of plants and such, the rabbit began to nibble of some of the flowers given to it. Of course, since at the moment Yan was a rabbit too, it was totally okay to eat some as well.

"These are my carrots Mr. Rabbit but I can share with you!" She said happily, pleased with her own work and generosity. There was a great big grin on her face, which was soon filled with flowers that were chewed, and swallowed. The process was repeated again until something interrupted their dinner. It was a human. There was another man. Yan wanted to ask the man if he wanted some of their carrots/flowers/mushrooms as well, and invite him over to dinner, but rabbits didn't talk. To her knowledge rabbits stood still and stared wide eyed.

So wide eyed she stool at the man and stared with a mouth full of flowers and her pretend paws up.

[Lemon]

As the tiny, pretend rabbit stared intently at him, so too did Alec stare back at her with wild bewilderment. A tiny messenger of light in a moment of darkness, perhaps? Maybe a divinity had taken pity and come from the heavens to show him his tremendous err. Angels on high, thinking to mollify his tormented spirit, had sent an immaculate symbol of childish virtue. With a violence wholly pure in its intentions, epiphany arrested Alec's life without warning.

By enduring the unending and egregious sins of his emaciated master, did he not protect others from suffering? Perhaps his master's will eclipsed his own, but to extinguish the will of a man was nigh impossible, even under the most unbearable circumstance. Hollow and lost though things had seemed, every crack of the whip upon his back was a gash saved from the flesh of another. Was his purpose, in fact, to defy his master? Had he served him all these years only to prevent the lord's potent sadism from reaching another outlet? Yes! What was before a wasted life was now one of benevolence! What herald in his mind had been so silent as to ignore this gift of absolution? His emancipation had not ended his life but begun it instead! Finally, he would come into a house and a land that was truly his own; with no heirs to contest him, who else would maintain the expansive property? Indeed, who even could if not the man who'd devoted his life to the plot!

As the epiphany ended, Alec's life resolved. He had to thank this girl, this seraph! Epiphany, however, is a cruel mistress; she knows exactly when we need her least and picks that time to affect us most. His appreciation spanned the expanse between life and death, punctuated only by the creek of the noose and the crack of a slave's neck. His spirit, the only item ever belonging to Alec Lanning that none could claim in his stead, disappeared from the world disappointed, but decidedly more content than it had been only fraction of moments before.

The abrupt jerk of committing suicide jostled loose the small silver pin on the coat of his jacket; it fell, bouncing off the shoe of the corpse to land right before Yan.

[littlebean]

"Huh?" The sound of a jacket pin hitting her shoe broke the silence of their staring contest, which Yan lost. Her wide eyes blinked once or twice at the man, then at the pin, and then the man again. This was his pin, and he dropped it. First Yan swallowed her mouthful of flowers (it was a surprise she didn't throw them right back up) and picked up his pin carefully with her mouth, and approached the man with the most rabbit like hop she could accomplish, because she was still a bunny. She knew what rabbits acted like, but wasn't too in tune with a rabbit's mentality. If she really wanted to be like a rabbit she would have turn tail and run away by now, as her rabbit friend had done long before without her knowing, but she wasn't like most rabbits. Yan decided she was going to be a happy and friendly rabbit, and because she was a friendly rabbit and not a scared one. As far as Yan was concerned there wasn't any danger nearbuy. She failed to see the danger in a young girl like herself being alone and vulnerable in the woods with a strange man. Instead she thought of herself as a rabbit along in the woods with a new best friend.

Boldly she bounced right up to the man with his jacket pin in her mouth, nodding her head showing that he should take it.

"Here you go miffir!" She said without trying to swallow the pin, forgetting that rabbits didn't talk. She waited awhile, but when the man didn't reply she immediately stopped being a rabbit. Yan wasn't the brightest, but she wasn't that thick either. She spat the pin out of her mouth and put it in her dress pocket, pushing the man and patting on him to get his attention.

"Mister...mister? M-mister?" The more he didn't reply, the more frightened she got. She reasoned with herself that the man might be sleeping, and he was a heavy sleeper and just wouldn't wake up. "What a lazy bum. Mister wake up! wake up mister!" She raised her voice and shook him violently, but when he didn't respond, her options started slimming down. If he wasn't awake, if he wasn't asleep then he could only be hurt, sick or dead. The last three required immediate attention. Having never come across a corpse before, she panicked and cried out to her rabbit friend as loud as she could.

"MR RABBIT HELP! THIS MAN NEEDS HELP! MR RABBIT!?!?!?!?" But the rabbit was nowhere to be found. She was really alone with the man. She didn't assume the worst yet, she wasn't with a dead body, she was with a man that could still be alive, but Yan couldn't do it on her own. Whatever it was, she couldn't tell you because she didn't have a clue.

"I NEED AN ADULT! SOMEBODY HELP! HEEEEELLLLPPPP!!!!" From the bottom of her lungs she screamed for help and hoped someone would come.

[Lemon]

As the pendulous motion of the body slowed and stopped, an adult of sorts would come to rescue the corpse of its predicament. There was no crack of thunder nor bark of hound to herald his coming; no rainbow, works of fire, choirs of angels, brilliant light, or rush of wind would warn a soul in the distance. What preceded Death was always the same thing that followed his departure. Silence.

Little Yan's words would be lost to vacuous oblivion, dispelled between the threads of space and time into the nothing beyond. Death flowed up from a particularly piercing shadow, bubbling forth from his home beyond the bends of life in the throes of thorny incomprehensibility to stand before this newly erected plinth of human sacrifice. Quite a specimen of suffering, to be sure, but so easily was life surrendered to sadness; it often put the very inquisitive shadow into a ponderous state. Alas, the soul had passed and he could not ask it questions of why; he'd have to settle for a plunder of memories to sift through and pass his time until the next tragic story of mortal coil interrupted.

As he reached for the body to begin the process of removal, his hollow eyes roved and then widened, snapping to the small innocent at the deceased's feet. What wonder! Was she the child of this man? Driven to death, even as his little offspring watched! Death extended a single pale and lengthy hand in friendship, a wobbly smile spreading across his flat face.

"Hello," etched itself into the silence of the scene, not spoken but drawn upon the air in shaky, bold letters.

[littlebean]

Yan stared at the corpse, eyes widening as she stared at the hypnotic pendulous swinging motion. When she looked at the dangling man she couldn't help but think back to the grandfather clock at home, and how it marked the passing of every second. In her head Yan tried to count the seconds, but was unsuccessful because she could hardly count past ten. Then the gears really started turning in her head. If this man was swinging from a branch by his neck, could he really be alright? At first Yan thought he was sleeping, but he couldn't possibly be comfortable sleeping that way. Was he hurt? She couldn't tell, she cried out for help but for some reason, her voice stopped working.

She had nightmares like this before, where frightful things happened, and she was completely helpless. No matter how much she screamed, no noise came out, kind of like right now. Once she pinched herself, just to be sure, but the situation remained the same, she was still in the woods with the hanging man.

The sudden arrival of a man creeping through the shadows brought her voice back, and it burst out of her throat in a piercing shriek. Immediately she fled and hid behind the tree and huddled over, covering her head, trying her damndest to make herself invisible. Things never changed, time kept passing slowly, the corpse was still swinging in the tree, and eventually the more nothing happened the more Yan released her tightly curled up figure. Still she was too frightened to look around, and sat there, closing her eyes and turning the gears in her head once again. She said she needed an adult, and here he was.

A large pair of brown eyes peeked from behind the tree. This time around Yan's immitation of a rabbit was more correct. After running for her life she only appeared once she felt certain it was safe, and still only approached the stranger with extreme caution. Once she stood in front of him she waited, gathering her nerves until she was finally able to speak,

"H-hello mister...mister sir." She was trying to mind her manners." This man dropped his pin...but...but he won't wake up." There was still a lot of hesitance, because she was still fearful. It was too obvious in the way she stuttered and trembled. Also, she was trying to be a big girl and not wet herself. " C-can you....please wake him up sir?"

[Lemon]

The tiny bubble around Mister Sir's word popped as he turned his head to re-examine the body. She was not his offspring. They didn't refer to each other that way--'this man'--which left Sir fairly disappointed, but she seemed like a nice little girl. After all, hadn't he come here to do exactly what she requested in the first place?

Mister's hand slipped from under his silken black sleeve to press upon the hanging man's back. Resistance. Still too warm for the creature's fingers to slip in. Mister Sir retracted his hand and extended a single finger, tracing a circle between Alec's shoulder blades before resting the tip of it in the exact center. He spoke no words, made no other runes or symbols, but as soon as the pale being touched the corpse at the center of that circle, Alec Lanning's body became ice. The skin emptied itself of color in an instant, solidifying into a much more ghoulish slate gray while the eyes slicked over with the cloud of blindness to an eggshell white. After the transformation into a truly deceased, decomposing body was complete, Mister Sir slid his fingers into the corpse's thorax with absolutely no resistance. There were no holes where the fingers penetrated, however, and the monotone shadow was careful not to damage anything within. Slowly, like the drip of amber in a blizzard, the eyes unclouded. Unlife peaked its head into the realm of reality and liked what it saw.

As Mister Sir withdrew his fingers, he waved his opposite hand in the air and dispelled of the borrowed rope, erasing it with a small but swift black fire. Alec's legs impacted the ground but did not crumple. He turned to face his resurrector.

Another bubble escaped the hooded man's lips, the words, "My Name?" in stark white against a flat black. Though they were just words written in the air, it was a language that transcended any normal definition of the word; anyone, of any intelligence, and of any species would be able to understand it as if spoken in their native tongue. The zombie, his own words appearing in the same form as his master's but photo-negatively in color, responded obediently, affirming that he was cognitive, able bodied, and under the other being's control, "Harold."

[littlebean]

Yan asked the ghoulish looking stranger to help the man wake up. With a child like naivety she believed down to the very bone that he could do it. If she was aware that the man hanging on the rope was dead in the first place, she would stare in awe at what she was seeing, the ressurection of the dead, or so it appeared. To her instead, he was simply waking the man up from his noose nap. The way he would go about this however, would frighten Yan to the point of tears.

She was undeniably scared. It was far too much for such a young child to fully comprehend exactly what was happening. Her brain was very straight forward, too simple to wrap itself around what was being done. In the end, she just had to remember that she asked the man to wake him up, and she got what she asked for, he was just doing it very very differently. The sight of the helpful stranger's hand entering the other body caused her mouth to drop and her lip to quiver. If it was at all possible, her already wide eyes widened to the point where it looked like they would have rolled right off her head.

"Wuuhh..." Out of good manners she tried not to sob, figuring it would be rude to cry when someone was helping her (her mother always stressed how she should be polite) and instead kept it to a small whine. How was the man doing this? She saw magic tricks before, but it was never anything beyond people constantly finding potatoes in her ears. Was this some kind of magic, could people really be magical like in the stories? She'd find out soon enough. When his trick was complete and the body thunked to the ground she let out a small startled gasp.

That was that. In her dress pocket she clutched the cold pin in her hand, waiting to give it to the asleep man. She wasn't sure what to do, but the man's written words caught her attention and distracted her mind from the task.

"H-hello...Mr. Harold." The words were still shaky but slowly she was regaining her confidence. " My name is Yan. Thank you for getting him down." Again, manners were always first.

[Lemon]

A lifetime of pain and suffering. A hasty decision. Regret. All leading up to Mr. Lanning's magnum opus; an artistic, minimalist sacrifice upon the altar of nature's bounty. Harold appreciated Alec's circumstances but had seen more impressive ends in his own extended existence. Death was an artistic endeavor, if only because the irony of creation through destruction which punctuated it. A good death was a lifetime in the making, and the more meaningful--or in Alec's case, seemingly meaningless--the life before it happened to be, the more beautiful its end became. Harold collected the remains of masterpieces. He preserved the decaying, soulless canvases the artists had left behind and gave them new life. Though, admittedly, he probably should not have been here.

Harold was returning to his home, excited to view his recent collections. The End had made for quite a stunning display of sacrifice and human emotion; he'd barely had time to collect a single body before two more priceless artifacts sprung up in its place! Finally, after months of work and hundreds of new men and women added to his collection, The End's effects seemed to be dwindling off. Harold planned to return to his dwelling and relax, but he'd heard a voice. It was a tiny pinprick in the darkness he used to travel about, but it penetrated the veil and he found himself deviating to discover its source. Alec had led a very interesting life and his death was tantalizingly perfect, begging to be collected, but given Harold's notably more astounding, recent collection. . . well, he wouldn't have bothered. This little girl, however, was undeniable. Harold didn't usually get to work with children, let alone a living and quite adorable specimen such as Yan.

Harold and Alec turned in unison to smile down at the little girl. Alec's smile was slightly broader, and he even raised his hand to give a small wave. The pale collector addressed his tiny acquaintance, "You have something to give Alec?"

[littlebean]

There was no doubt in anyone's mind that The End was absolutely devastating, as it's name suggested. Some believed it was the apocalypse, some liked to add it up to extremely bad luck (most of them were dead however) and for some, it was quite the opposite. There was a select few who would be unaffected by the coming of The End, and Yan was one of them. In fact, saying Yan wasn't affected would be an outright lie. By now her entire village had been destroyed, and her parents torn to pieces by monsters, it was just that she was unaware how affected she really was.

It was an average day, and it started with the regular morning routine of breakfast with the family. Yan and her parents were eating, and on that fine day Yan asked her father if she should go out and play. Despite the fact that her father was a simple farmer, he was no fool. He heard stories about the horrible happenings in other towns, and forbid Yan to go out but her mother, over ruling her husband's command, gave her permission to go out and play on the condition that she didn't stray too far. Of course Yan meant to follow her mother's wishes, but a butterfly fluttered past her, charming her with its bright colours and flickering flight. Yan was so amazed by the creature that she chased it all the way into the woods and out harms way and away from the village, where the massacre began.

When she returned, there was no village to be found, at all. Buildings were reduced to fragments of wood and stone, and the only thing left of its people were smears of blood and torn clothing. This, this could not be her village, her village was full of buildings, farmland and happy people. So instead of investigating the ruined pile, she simply figured that she must be in the wrong place, and began her pointless journey, searching for a home and family that no longer existed. Her parent's journey ended that day too, screaming for their daughter in bits and pieces. In their final hour they prayed for her safety, and were thankful that she had gone out to play.

Ever since then Yan had been wandering about quite happily, still playing as far as she was concerned, because to her she was on another adventure! Living off of plantlife and sleeping in the dirt did not bother her at all, and now at this very moment, to have two new friends would only make it better. Harold was different and intimidating, but she found him to by kind and helpful. And Alec? Even though she had no idea the man smiling and waving at her was Alec, she was sure glad he was awake, and not injured.

The smiles on their faces completely lifted the worry from her mind, and she responded with a big goofy smile of her own, and an enthusiastic wave. She had a question though, "Who's Alec Mr. Harold?"

[Lemon]

Harold turned his hollow head toward the recently deceased, who promptly bowed to the little girl. "I am Alec, miss Yan. Thank you very much for asking Mr. Harold to wake me. I was having a very strange dream, I think."

Harold didn't usually like to think about what happened between the time the soul vacated the body and he resurrected the corpse. He didn't deal much in uncertainties and it was the only time a body didn't accumulate memories which he could analyze at his leisure. Alec's statement was unsettling; did the bodies dream? To say the dreams were strange made a morbid kind of sense, as the notion a soulless body could dream at all was strange in and of itself. In the eternal sleep of death, what dreams may come? What undiscovered country were his collections traversing before he ripped them from their slumber? Wait... did Alec know he was dead?

Harold peered at the freshly risen Alec from the corner of his eyes and his mouth stretched into a flat, concerned line. He'd never been so quick to resurrect a creature. This was the first time he'd had to drain the body of its warmth... what if he became a zombie!? He'd heard of things like that, even before the end. Tales of a risen man known only as The Writer--of no connection to Harold or his craft, of course, but what if...? He didn't seem flesh eating. Yet. He seemed polite even. Just to be safe, though, perhaps it would be best to distance himself from the potential incident.

Harold addressed the two, trying his best to act as though he were still quite as happy as they were, "Perhaps we should depart."

[littlebean]

She knew it! She knew it all along that he was just asleep, afterall if he wasn't asleep how could he have possibly had any dreams? It must be true that people could sleep dangling from ropes, and to Yan it was very strange that he preffered to sleep like that, but the hows and why's hardly bothered her and she dared not to question it.

A small and girlish giggle escaped Yan's lips, which were until recently had been quivering and frowning the whole time. She had been grinning now for awhile, and when Alec bowed to her, she mimiced his actions, as if it were a game and bowed to him. Because of her age she'd never been bowed to before, usually instead i was her doing these sorts of things to her elders and betters, so her mother called them. Now it was her turn to introduce herself.

"Hello Mister Alec!" She said enthusiastically, waving at him with the hand that still had the pin clutched in it. Her eyes lit up as if a spark had ignited her memory (Yan was easily distracted) and she ran right up to Alec and shoved her hand in front of him, proudly presenting to him the item that had completely changed the turn of events in Yan's life so far, the pin."You're welcome also you dropped your pin!"

Yan felt particularly accomplished, having discovered the pin, successfully found help and returned the pin to it's rightful owner, but the victory would be short lived. Harold, her new friend didn't look nearly as happy as she did. Still with her hand out to Alec she turned around, looking at him wide eyed. Why should he have to go? He only just got here.

"Why ya gotta go Mr. Harold? Do you hafta go somewhere?" She asked.

[Lemon]

The small hand's offered gift was accepted with a smile and a nod, but Alec's face hardened when he reviewed what he had accepted. His memory, til now little more than an ethereal cloud, resolved into a concrete, tangible heirloom. His family crest of gold and cobalt, pinned to his collar since times forgotten to mark him out to any who entered his master's estate as both a lowly servant and a prized pet. The striking blue sparrow against the etched shield once symbolized honor above all else, but that tradition ended with Alec.

Harold raised his hands, smiling broadly and nervously at the little girl. His thin black lips moved, his mouth opened, but the voice did not come from him but from Alec; the former butler, on the other hand, had no idea. He held his free hand out to the child and spoke to her without ever taking his eyes off the family crest. “No! Not I, we! You’re in danger… you see… I’m being followed. Yes. Yes of course I am. I’m being followed because I’m so pale, you see. It’s doctors, they’re… they’re trying to fix me, but there’s nothing to fix! And I’m awfully afraid of needles and such… and if they catch you with me… why, they’ll try to fix you too! Best we all leave now; come along, hold Alec’s hand, please.”

[littlebean]

With her large eyes Yan stared at Harold expectantly, eagerly awaiting his answer, but was startled to hear it come out of Alec's mouth instead. Like a child should, she listened very well to everything Alec said, her eyes never leaving him. Yan was a good listener, her parent's made sure Yan was raised to be a polite and kind young lady, and their teachings seemed to be affective. If they were still around, they would have been very proud of her.

“No! Not I, we! You’re in danger… you see… I’m being followed. Yes. Yes of course I am. I’m being followed because I’m so pale, you see. It’s doctors, they’re… they’re trying to fix me, but there’s nothing to fix! And I’m awfully afraid of needles and such… and if they catch you with me… why, they’ll try to fix you too! Best we all leave now; come along, hold Alec’s hand, please.”

There was a blank and silent pause coming from Yan after Alec spoke. Regardless of the urgency of the situation, Yan wasn't in much of a rush. She was pondering to herself, reminiscing back to her little village and the things her mother would day. She remembered that her mother would always tell her that doctor's were good people and would help you if you ever got sick. Of course Yan's parents couldn't really afford that kind of medical attention from an actual doctor and grew up with homecare remedies, but a doctor didn't seem too bad at all, why should they be running away from them?

The part about the needles however, did leave Yan uneasy. She didn't argue with Alec, but instead reached her arm up and placed her tiny hand in his and began to walk. Instead of stopping to question Alec, she simply did as she was told and asked him questions they were on their way.

"Mr. Alec I thought doctors were good people. Maybe we can just tell them you aren't sick? They'd leave you alone then!"