((This thread is going to be a series of one-shots that show scenes from Effigy's past in Australia, and in the commune.))
Editors - An End Has A StartSummer. Melbourne – Australia. 2009
The sickly sliver of moon hung low in the sky, like a dirty yellow fingernail. The ambient orange glow of the city lights splashed and mingled with the midnight blue sky like paint, becoming a deep indigo hue that Mat adored. The air was warm, the summer nights now becoming pleasant enough to wear shorts and t-shirts. Melbourne would be growing much warmer in the following months, but for now, everything was great. As he lay on the concrete roof of the warehouse, Mat grinned up at the few stars visible through the light pollution of the city.
For now, everything was perfect.
The world glowed with a vividness, a sharpness and a clarity. Colours were drenched in vibrancy. Euphoric bliss coursed through Mat's body, relaxing his muscles and leaving him gladly content, yet surprisingly alert. Lines danced, and specks crawled. And greatest of all, the fear that ate away at his every sleeping moment were locked away deep in the recesses of his mind. Looking over at his partner in crime, Mat grinned dumbly.
Trip was an artist of the highest calibre with his mutation, in his own right.
Tall and lanky, with short, curly brown hair,
Trip had become Mat's most trusted friend in the short time they had known each other. He had shared everything with Trip, everything about Lily and running away. Mat had told Trip secrets that he hadn't even shared with Bloom, or Downpour. That he may never share.
Like just how severe his somniphobia had gotten.
Thanks to Trip, and his ability to manipulate chemicals in the brain, Mat had been able to begin the long climb to conquering his fear. The first week at the commune had been the toughest, learning to adjust to sleep, getting away from his dependency on staying awake by any means necessary. But Trip soon proved to be a rock-solid ally in his battle against sleep. Against the lingering grief over his sister Lily's death.
“You've been thinking about her, haven't ya?” Trip look at Mat, with that half-lidded expression that said that he already knew the answer.
“Yup.”A quirk of the lips, and a slight smile appeared on Trip's face. “Fair enough.”
And that was that. No need to press further, Trip was happy to let the subject lay.
Trip was good like that.
He had been thinking of his sister less as the years passed, and as he met new acquaintances. Bloom, he had to admit, was somewhat different, in that she reminded him so much of his sister. But the others, they were so far removed from his old life that Mat couldn't help but feel that it was no longer his own, that everything in his past had belonged to someone else.
Cool glass met Mat's lips, and as he sucked down the bitter beer from his stubbie, he decided that it was all far too complicated to worry over now. Off to the side, Mat could hear Trip chuckle to himself. He often did that, found something that nobody else could see amusing, or fascinating. The man lived in a world that no one else could fathom. Mat often found himself wondering just what it was that Trip saw.
To know what is was like to know the punchline before the joke had finished being told.
“Guess I'd better go in. Looks like rain,” Trip remarked, the usual knowing humour in his voice. With that, he pushed himself off the concrete and strolled back to the stairs that lead inside the commune. Mat watched him leave, bemused. Trip was a mystery, that was for sure. Looking up into the sky, he finally saw what Trip was referring to. Wisps of cloud and mist rolling in, congealing into a wide cloud.
With a grin on his lips, Mat laid his head back and closed his eyes.
He felt the droplets of rain begin to patter over him, heavy drops that felt like a caress as they burst over his body. He felt the gentle impact of rain on his face, each drop like a gentle peck from a lover. Opening his eyes a crack, Mat spied several falling drops above him, merging together and converting from water to skin. A sultry grin fell from the sky before planting itself on Mat's lips, dissipating in a burst of cool moisture.
A kiss in free-fall.
“How long have you been watching us?” Mat smiled, waiting for the intruder to answer.
“Not long,” the disembodied, sing-song voice replied. It dripped with innocent guilt, the reply of someone who knows they have been sprung, but knows they can get away with it. Puddles of water that had gathered on the roof began to shimmer and vibrate, slowly rolling towards one another. Gathering into one big pool, the water began to shape itself. Curves begin to form, slender limbs and a slight frame. Translucent liquid began to cloud and take on colour as it shifted back into skin, muscle and bone. What was once a puddle of rain was now a
girl, watching Mat with hungry blue eyes, and a mischievous smirk. Blonde hair cascaded down her bare shoulders, drawing Mat's attention to the lovely ratio of skin to clothing.
So far, skin was winning.
Mat sat up, watching as Downpour sauntered over to him, kneeling down and running her fingers through his hair. Unable to resist himself, he leaned in and caught her lips with his own. A kiss that held equal amounts of lust and comfort. Mat wasn't entirely sure how romance fit into his relationship with her.
Wasn't entirely sure that it did.
“So, you didn't hear anything that was said? Didn't overhear anything that we were talking about?” He was teasing her now, playing into her little games. He knew perfectly well that she had. It wasn't the first time Mat had found Downpour eavesdropping.
“Of course not.” A pause. “Who was Trip referring to, when he who you'd been thinking about? Bloom?” Downpour's smooth brow furrowed with irritation, the way it always did when she felt out of the loop.
“No. Not Bloom.” “You know she has a crush on you right? I've seen the way she follows you around, watches you when you're--”
“It's not Bloom.”“Your sister?”
A nod.
“My sister.”Downpour stared at Mat with her scrutinising gaze, looking for answers she knew Mat wasn't going to give. Mat met her gaze with his own. He knew she hated it when he clammed up, didn't fully open up to her. But he also knew that Downpour was easily bored. If he told her everything, she'd probably finish up with him and move onto the next guy. Not that he blamed her.
Half the excitement of their relationship came from the drama and intrigue.
“Still doesn't change the fact that Bloom has the hots for you, Effigy.” Typical Downpour. When drama can no longer be found in the original topic, find it somewhere else.
“What about Pockets? You think I haven't seen how he looks at you? The poor bastard pines over you.” A cheap shot. Everyone knew that Pockets was madly in love with Downpour. Everyone also knew that he had no chance in hell of ever hooking up with her. He wasn't even in her field of vision when it came to potential partners.
Judging by the expression on Downpour's face, she felt it was a cheap shot too.
Leaning closer to her, feeling her breath on his face, Mat found her lips once more. Felt them resist, but ultimately relent. That seemed to be a recurring theme between the two of them, an attribute of their relationship. Hot and cold. Tit for tat. Fight and love. Love and fight.
An uncomfortable silence fell over the pair.
“Why do we do this?” Downpour's voice had softened. That meant she was sick of trying to bait Mat, of trying to get him to react in a way that would give her ammunition.
“I dunno.”Mat felt Downpour nuzzle her face into his shoulder. She was done arguing. Now came the affection. The moments that made being with her worth the drama, worth the conflict and the trouble. Below the rooftop, down onto the streets, the constant thrum of the city filled the silence created by the conflict. Sometimes, Mat thought, he and Downpour made a better couple when they didn't speak to each other.
Turning his head, Mat planted a gentle kiss of Downpour's forehead.
“Stay with me tonight.”It was a strange relationship, one that Mat often found himself questioning. Whether it was one of love, lust, companionship, or simply convenience. Certain times though, like tonight, he put all of his questions to rest and simply decided to take things as they came.
After all, there are only so many silent answers that somebody can tolerate.
