First Timer (Nae, semi-open?)

[Barnabas "Bip" Wilkson]

The boy had his eyes covered, the unseen and unnatural winds buffeting him and the dark lady holding the color of his baggy shirt. The shirt looked as if it were having a seizure, the only stationary part being the boys slim chest. A whimper would be plain to hear, if the noise hadn't been in his ears. The excess ends of his sleeves battered around his head, along with his sea foam green hair and isolated black bangs. The boy didn't dare peek out of the maelstrom he was forced into, scared enough by the loud noises alone. This was by far the worst experience in the young boy's life.

The wind and noise faded, the horrifying ordeal seemed to be over. Still whimpering and trembling slightly, Bip turned toward the adult, as he was accustomed to when terrifying events had finished. Nuzzling his face into her side, the tears finally began welling up. "I don't like this! I wanna go home!" Bip whined, his voice on the verge of breaking. All he had wanted was a snack... "I just wanted a snack!" He was also very sorry. "I'm sorry!" And he never planned on doing it again. "I won't ever that that again! I promise!" The tears were being held back, but the effort it took increased more and more, the boy keeping his eyes shut tight. In fact, the child hadn't even seen his surroundings yet. "Please, please, please take me home!" Poor Barnabas didn't know how ridiculous of a statement that was in these parts, but he would soon learn.

[Naelona Ezel]

All the fussing and crying, begging, pleading and promises fell upon deaf ears. "Child." Came a soft, but unarguable command, as Naelona pried off the small being's fists from her clothing, kneeling down to face-height. "Open your eyes." Such messy green hair.. it wasn't natural, she was sure. The hair of human slaves didn't grow such a sickly green. It would certainly be one of the first things to go. Perhaps not immediately, but very, very soon.

"Home? But you haven't even looked around you.." The same low voice insisted, turning the boy to face the open room about him. "..isn't this what you wanted? To get away?" Orphan children were a strange bunch. It was like drawing a random card. It was difficult to tell what sort of suit one would find upon the other side until the card was already drawn and turned over.

Looking down, watching, a hand ruffled through his green hair and an unbidden grin sneaked upon her lips. The poor little cries.. the terror that would only become worse, she was sure. So young, so fragile.. and at an age and size where they bounced just so well..

Taking his little hand in hers the boogie moved towards the center of the dark room. By the window the curtains were lightly parted, but not much light shown in. Near the middle of that room was a low, circular table with several large cushions that were set about it. Going over towards them she kept a gentle but firm grip upon his hand and wrist. She was going over to sit, and this child was going to follow.

"Here, sit." She commanded quietly, while reaching with her free hand to a plate in the middle of the table. A shroud of shade about it parted for her hand, and recovered the plate just as quick once she removed it, holding the item out to the boy. It was a small cookie. Waiting a few moments more, she watched him closely. "What is your name?" came the gentle sounding question, words with an unusual lilt of tone to her voice that her other slaves would probably never recognize. It was almost.. pleasant.. to listen to. "I can't call you just 'boy'." The woman chided lightly.

[Barnabas "Bip" Wilkson]

The violet eyes cracked open at the suggestion, hoping, by some odd miracle, that he was home. Alas, he only saw the dark room, the pale, strange woman, and more dark room. His eyes shut tight again, seeing as this wasn't the same, olive green kitchen he was in moments ago. There was no solid oak table, no sickly yellow refrigerator, nothing he was familiar with. Her words only helped to inspire his panic. "No! I wanna go back! I love Mama and Papi!" The titles which the orphanage owners went by to the kids. It added a sense of intimacy when a lost child could still call out for Mama. Bip was one of the few who adored every moment living in the orphanage, having many friends, loving adults to care for him, and all the snacks he could ask for before bed.

When they began moving, Bip tried his hardest to resist, his free hand counter-gripping her wrist, his futile efforts giving him no leverage. His sleeves whipped around when he did so, his naked feet stamping the ground, trying to get what traction he could, but what little he found was quickly overwhelmed, forcing him to find new ground. Once at the table, he sat, mostly to break free of her grip. His eyes, open since his failed struggle to win his freedom from her guided hand, went wide, seeing the shadows moving by themselves, a cookie in her pale hands. There were so many emotions running through his little head at once that he couldn't even sort them all out! Fear, panic, sadness, powerless... Even with the politeness Naelona was showing him Bip felt even more uncomfortable. It felt like like one of those business men he had seen so many times before. A mask of kindness to hide what was really going on.

Looking at her other hand, he saw the cookie, a smile instantly spreading across his face, both covered hands reaching for it. He stopped quickly, withdrawing his hands before the treat touched him. "I-if I don't eat it... Can I go home?" Bip asked softly, his eyes still filled with terror of the unknown and tears. The thought to actually answer her question didn't even come to mind if he could negotiate his way home. Yes, he was still hungry for a snack, but maybe if he declined the offer, whatever sick deal that was taking place would be null and void, sending the frightened boy back to his safe, warm bed.