Information


Ising has a minion!

Tea Party the Smiley Tea




Ising
Legacy Name: Ising


The Cream Lain
Owner: Pureflower

Age: 9 years, 4 months, 4 days

Born: November 24th, 2014

Adopted: 9 years, 4 months, 4 days ago

Adopted: November 24th, 2014


Pet Spotlight Winner
April 15th, 2015

Statistics


  • Level: 104
     
  • Strength: 119
     
  • Defense: 10
     
  • Speed: 10
     
  • Health: 10
     
  • HP: 10/10
     
  • Intelligence: 128
     
  • Books Read: 116
  • Food Eaten: 0
  • Job: Decadent Duke


Find Your Voice

Poppy had warned her at a very young age that her voice was special and that she must never waste words. She was a good girl, always doing her chores and never making a fuss. Poppy spoiled her with an army of delicate dolls and lacy dresses that made her feel like a princess. With each new gift came the silent warning of a finger to his lips.

She certainly hadn’t meant to cause the bad thing to happen. She had been sitting with her three favorite dolls, serving them watery tea and stealing bites of their cheesecake when she was sure they weren’t looking. (She made it a point to turn their faces away. A true lady would never eat off another’s plate without asking and she couldn’t ask.)

She would never forget the lacy black dress she wore when she caused the bad thing, for it happened on her 7th birthday. It was only on her birthday that Poppy dressed her in black; she’d never thought to ask why. She had just finished filling Lady Alice’s cup when out of nowhere a winged intruder sprang from the bushes. It was a butterfly with wings the color of the sun. It fluttered across the yard to land on the back of her hand. Without thinking, she blurted a single word. “Pretty!”

She clapped her hand over her mouth, sending the butterfly on its way, but a spoken word cannot be unsaid. Her little red chair went flying as she hurtled toward the house.

Poppy lay on the sofa with his eyes closed and his hands folded on his chest. At first she thought he was taking a nap. Poppy did like his midday naps. She went to take his hand and it was cold, much too cold. She had come to apologize in her silent way and now it was too late!

The landlady came a few hours later, after the sun had set. She found the peculiar child sitting beside her father’s corpse, staring at the growing shadows on the walls with wide eyes. The little girl offered no resistance when strangers in blue uniforms came to carry her away. Nothing could be more frightening than the creature lurking in the shadows, the one she had created through her carelessness.

She ended up in a room that smelled of leather and furniture polish. The woman behind the desk came to her feet as the girl was set in an empty chair much too big for her. She huddled into a corner, running her finger around the edge of an enormous brown button and doing her best to ignore what the adults were saying.

“New charge for you, Cam.” The man set down the folder he’d carried under his arm. “The father had a heart condition and refused to take his meds. Crazy old-“

“Rudy, please!” The woman continued in a gentler tone. “She’s been through enough.”

Rudy cleared his throat and looked away. “Right. I’ll just leave her to you then.”

Cam waited until he’d gone to take the other brown chair. She wore a three-piece purple suit. If Poppy were there, the girl would have tapped her chest and pointed to remind him of her favorite color.

Cam skimmed through the folder. “Ising is a very pretty name.” She did not seem bothered in the least when Ising remained silent. “My name is Camron and it’s my job to help children find new families. A child waiting for a family stays in the Play House downstairs. I’ll bet you like to play. What are your favorite games, Ising?”

Ising studied her shiny black shoes and kept her lips firmly pressed together.

“No matter. There’s never a quiet moment around here. You’re sure to find something you enjoy.” She continued to skim the papers before her. “It looks like you won’t be with us long. Your aunt in Vermont will be coming for you. She has a gorgeous house with a huge yard and a brand new swing set. Doesn’t that sound like fun?”

Ising’s eyes lit at the mention of swings. When Poppy mustered the energy to take her to the park she had always made straight for the shiny red swings. She liked to believe if she could just swing high enough she’d be rid of the curse forever and she’d finally be able to tell Poppy how much she loved him.

She did not like the days spent among the other orphans. Their words quickly changed from friendly to cruel when she would not join in their games. Poppy told her he could teach her everything she needed to know and that schools were for fools. A small part of her wanted to tell off those bad children and watch the curse take effect. She knew Poppy would be ashamed of such thoughts if he were here so she held her tongue.

There were not many people at the funeral but they all came to tell her how sorry they were. She stared at her new black shoes and they whispered that she was shy and just needed time to adjust. It was at the feast put out by church ladies that she first met Aunty.

Aunty had the same curly black hair as Poppy but that was the only thing they shared. Poppy’s skeletal limbs made every dull shirt he owned too big for his frame but Aunty’s colorful blouse barely reached her belt. She loaded her plate with three helpings of potatoes, frowning as Ising pushed bits of ham around the edge of her plate.

“You’ll never grow up big and strong if you eat like a mouse, girl. My Dolly is half you’re your age and twice your size. Here, try some of these candied yams. My Dolly loves candied yams.”

She took one bite to be polite. She wished she could tell this mammoth what she really loved was cheesecake. Plain or with fruit, there was no flavor as delightful as the creamy sweetness of cheesecake. Only Poppy knew her secret code. She went back to swirling a bit of ham in her potatoes until Aunty gave up on talking, at least to her. Everyone else at the table got at least three opinions out of her before it was time to go.

Aunty’s car smelled of stale peppermint. Ising spent a long, dreadful night in Aunty’s motel room, staring blankly at the pictures that flashed across the TV screen. Poppy never owned a TV. She’d had her tos and he’d had his car to work on. Quality time came down to a good game of checkers. She almost always won but he never seemed to mind.

In the morning Aunty took her for a last visit to Cam. Ising trudged up the carpeted stairs, passing the children on their way to breakfast. They all looked at her with jealous eyes. She would gladly let any one of them take her place. She was already tired of hearing about her perfect cousin Dolly.

This time Ising waited in the outer office while Aunty went in to sign paperwork. By kneeling at the door and putting her eye to the crack, Ising could see and hear everything the adults said.

Cam offered Aunty a smile and a chair. “Still the strong, silent type?”

Aunty grunted her disapproval. “It’s my fault for letting my brother put ideas in her head. He blamed her for Lucy’s death, you know. Here was this beautiful baby girl in his arms who wouldn’t stop crying. Oaf was holding her all wrong and I told him so. He used to take my help, in the early days. When she got to talking age all he could hear was Lucy’s voice come back from the grave. He shut everybody out, his daughter most of all.”

Ising backed away slowly until she came against the entry door. She didn’t think about where she would go when the latch released, she just ran. She ran around the legs of startled adults with shopping bags and briefcases. She ran down the crosswalk, heedless to the car that almost hit her. She ran until her burning legs and aching side forced her to stop.

Store fronts and tall buildings had given way to fields of green corn. She plopped down in the mud and had a good cry and for once she made no effort to be silent. She felt she would never stop crying but after every storm is a moment of calm.

The night was growing cold when she heard the voices calling her name. The shadows of night were more terrifying than those conjured by imagination. She would be happy for her little bed at the Play House. Even Aunty’s musty car seat would be better than this. She tried to reply as the voices moved away but her voice was only a whisper.

“Do you know where your name came from, Precious? When I met your mama I asked her what she did when she wanted to take a break from breaking hearts.”

Ising looked around frantically but though she heard Poppy’s voice, he was nowhere in sight.

“How could I reply but to say I sing?”

The voice was melodic and sweet, so like her own yet different. The lullaby that had put Ising to sleep for one short month of her life was in her mind now as the reunited spirits of her parents surrounded her with light.

She wiped the tears from her eyes and began to sing.

She sang of shady trees and bubbling brooks as the voices that had fallen silent were raised again, drawing closer. She sang of cool blades of grass and warm summer sun as the farmer stumbled over her shivering body. Her song trailed away as they wrapped her in blankets and carried her away but for a moment she could feel the embrace of two loving pairs of arms.

Profile by Ringo
Story by Pureflower

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