A Week of Rain

[Tzach Dorman Colt]

He was rather bored today. He had been bored for probably the past week, and he felt that he would soon die of boredom if things didn’t change soon enough. He wanted something fun to do, but swimming in the rain wouldn’t be smart. It had rained all week, so things would be too wet. It was actually still raining today, although not as bad as it had been at first. He sighed as he walked across the street in the soaking wet, looking for the usual apartment that he would usually enter when it was like this. Of course he loved the rain, but if he couldn’t play around it wasn’t all that fun. It wasn’t fun to play in the rain alone, either.

Finally, he had found it, the apartment that he and his closest friends would usually hide in during this weather. He had been in it most of the week, but the rain had weakened his vision enough to make things seem slightly blurry and unrecognizable, and he had no choice but to get to work that morning. At least he was finished with work and no one had to work until things had dried up. Thinking about that, he smiled a bit as he finally entered through the glass door of the apartment and started for the stairs in the dry room as he pulled the overall straps off his shoulders and let them hang at his sides while holding up the pants. He couldn’t undress entirely just yet, as there were glass behind him and he was kind of shy about that kind of exposure. Even if there was no one else outside. Or so he thought.

He had arrived soon enough on the second floor and entered the messy room that he usually stayed in. His friends weren’t in here, which probably meant that they were still out working. He chuckled in amusement as he let his overalls fall to the floor and then grabbed his soccer shorts, pulling them on. Being wet meant being cold, so he would like some warmth until he could dry up some. He picked up the overalls and placed them on a makeshift clothesline by the window. He sat down and picked up a bottle of shampoo, but jumped as he heard a noise downstairs. He carefully tiptoed to the door and looked down the stairs, “Who’s there?”

[Vixen]

Zipporah was anything but bored today. Work had been a long and grueling process.

Not farm work, of course. Nor working with the children (He Who Walks Behind the Rows forbid!) or cooking, either. Those had been mere diversions, distractions from her true calling. Her true work.

Killing the invading blue-woman had been easy, too. Point a crossbow and fire. End. The only problem was that John Peters had haralled her and tried to belittle the catch. She, being a modest virtuous girl, shrugged and tried to pass the credit around, but everyone knew who the real hero was. Who would replace Malachai, the betrayer and slayer of the blue-man. Clearly she was to be the next exalted. And Isaac would have extolled her, too, and probably would have begun to treat her with the honors of his second-in-command if the meddling kid Deborah hadn't mucked everything up, thus ruining what was truly her work. Gaining the power she so-rightly deserved.

After throwing a tempter tantrum of how her goal had slipped through her fingers and sidestepping Rhett who had been able to see her as not a demure follower of He Who Walks Behind the Rows and as some sort of Jezebel (like there was nothing in between?) she had to go somewhere else. Not wanting to face anyone quite yet after her humiliation at a six-year-old's hands she avoided the Communal Homes. Just in time to get caught in the rain.

The seventeen year old cursed under her breath and summarily took shelter in the first vacant building she discovered.

'Who's there? '

Apparently, it wasn't as vacant as she first suspected. Her brown gaze tilted upwards, and sure enough, she saw a boy perched atop the staircase. For a heartbeat she considered abruptly leaving, not wanting to deal with anyone at the moment, but the pouring rain outside made her think the better of it.

"It's Zipporah," she called, pouring the honey into her tone as she generally tried to do when she wasn't dealing with a threat. And the boy was no threat. "Do you mind if I shelter here until the rain lets up?" Already she was running her hands through her golden-blonde hair, in an attempt to haphazardly both brush the long strands and dry them.

[Tzach Dorman Colt]

For the next few minutes after having heard the noise, he had examined the ground floor very carefully from his location at the top of the stairs. He had asked for an identity, and soon enough he got it after seeing a shadow skip across the floor from one end of the other as a girl’s head poked out from the side. She seemed older than him, as her height would’ve given it away, but also the sense of her maturity. Colt squinted his eyes to get a closer look, wondering if this intruder was someone who knew, but no names popped into mind until she had introduced herself. He just stared for a moment, wondering why her voice sounded a little weird, but gave her a quick nod as he stated his name coolly. “Colt.”

Now she had asked to stay until the rain had let up. Colt knew he needed to think about it. Only his closest friends and he himself frequently used this place; it was as if they were the only ones to know about it, and that was probably a good thing. But having a newcomer could ruin things for them, and he wasn’t sure when his friends would be back. Reluctantly, he shrugged, “If it ever lets up. You do know it’s been raining a week, right? Anyway, um, come on up. Just… let me go get something on.” He ducked into the room and made his way over to a corner of the room where they would usually dump their clean clothes after their female friend had washed them thoroughly. He grabbed one of his friend’s shirts since he didn’t have a lot of clothes himself, and rolled it over his head before letting it fall to his waist. He turned to the door to see if the teenage girl had come up. Just then, lightning illuminated the room from outside, followed by a loud rumble of thunder. Was it a bad idea to have invited the girl up here?

[Vixen]

Zipporah narrowed her eyes at the clear reluctance on Colt's part to allow her refuge. The only reason she had troubled herself for permission was out of courtesy. No one thing belonged to anyone, it all belonged to the fold, and she had as much - nay, more right - to be there as the little gnit that named himself after a baby farm animal.

In fact, she opened her mouth to offer him a stern reprimand, but held her tongue as he went on. He needed to get dressed. The edges of her mouth tilted upwards in a small smile as she thought of what that would mean if she had been calling on an older boy.

"You're not hiding a wench up there, are you?" she asked playfully as she ascended the steps. "Adultery is a mortal sin, child. Hrm," she couldn't contain a mewl of dissatisfaction midstep as her eye fell unto her dress. The rain water had drenched it, and the course fabric now clung to her sides as a second skin, accenting her hour-glass figure.

Her dissatisfaction came from two places. It was uncomfortable, to have a wet and harsh fabric rubbing against her in such a vicious way, for one. But for another, as uncomfortable as it was, it allowed her to flaunt her figure but still maintain the mask of humility. That wasn't the bad thing; that bad thing that the only male around to appreciate it and kneel before her was one who was far younger than her seventeen years, if his voice and height were any indication.

"I'm well aware it's been raining for quite some time," she sighed finally continuing her ascent. "It's a pity of what it will do to the crops. But the Lord's will be done," she shrugged. "Have you been here this whole week?" she asked conversationally. It was highly unlikely, of course, near impossible, what with people needing to eat and all. But she tried to engage in conversation to take her mind off of all the ground she had covered in the day - only to lose it all and then some. Even now her hands curled into fists at the thought.

[Tzach Dorman Colt]

When Colt was putting the shirt on, as it wasn’t truly his, he could hear her coming up the stairs. He raised an eyebrow upon her inquiry, and called back down. “No!” He was quite upset. “The only wench around here,” the boy mumbled under her breath so that the newcomer wouldn’t hear, “is you…” He looked around the room and saw that it was messy. He started to throw the dirty clothes across the room into the bathroom, where there wasn’t even a door. All there was in place of the door was a white transparent sheet, transparent only because of the square window on the other side of the small bathroom. The bathroom was small enough to hold a sink, a toilet, and a bathtub, but that was it. Even a hamper wouldn’t fit in there, so the pile of clothes that he was throwing in there was basically starting to fill up the tiny room.

“I’m not even married,” he called back down quickly as she had continued to speak. “So I can’t commit… whatever you just said.” He could never really pronounce that particular word for some reason, and he wasn’t going to start trying, either. The room was large enough to hold three mattresses side by side, which did take up most of the room. Part of the room were full of clean clothes that they hadn’t even folded, except for Colt’s overalls which the boy had just tossed into the bathroom, showering himself by accident by the excess water that the outfit was sporting. “Damn.” The boy muttered as he stood up and shook his head, causing water to shoot off in various directions. He glanced across the room and spotted his shampoo just laying there on the beanie chair. “Ugh,” groaned the child as he stood up quickly and then rushed into the bathroom to toss it into the bathtub.

The rest of the room consisted mostly of paper, broken toys, games with missing pieces, and a small, tiny closet, that the kids never bothered to go into. At least, they didn’t bother to go into it often except to make out, although Colt and the female of the gang were in there more often than the other boys, since Colt was cool like that. Right by the closet was a large window, covered by a white transparent sheet similar to the one covering the bathroom. “No,” he answered her next question, “I just got in not too long ago.” Across from the room was the entrance and exit of the room, where Colt would soon see the girl. “Um…” He saw just how drenched her dress was, as the first thing that caught his eye was really her person. It was pretty noticeable. His face turned red when he realized he had been staring, and so he started to stammer as he pointed at the closet, shaking his head and blinking, “Um, there… um, there is a woman’s d-dress in that… I-it might fit…” He swiftly turned around to look away. Although… he was feeling the impulse to maybe steal a peek if she did go and change… After all, he could see people well in the bathroom through that particular sheet, and all he would really need to do was just to turn his head ever so slightly… and then quickly look away so that she couldn’t catch him.

[Vixen]

Zipporah eyed her muddled surroundings with undisguised distaste. She had stepped deeper into the room, only to follow her gaze to her feet and realized that she had stepped onto one of the boardgames that had been strewn across the floor. It was a Parker Brothers Game, in the shape of a rectangle with the alphabet scrawled across it. 'Yes' and 'No' were written in the corners.

She didn't give the game any other thought besides how it demonstrated how disheveled was the shelter she took. Then her attention was completely diverted by Colt's offering of a dress.

Apparently the boy was made uncomfortable by her now-tight-dress. Her dark eyes lit up with delight, and if she had been a cat she would have promptly begun to purr. Apparently she did have some power over the little kid. His lust was her advantage, after all, whether or not she decided to use it.

"Oh, I apologize," she said demurely, lowering her eyes as though hiding beneath her eyelashes. "I did not realize that my gown was so immodest." She raised a hand and clasped it across her mouth as though she were horrified with the revelation, covering the small smile that curved her lips.

Recovering, she swayed over to the closet and opened it to grab the new dress. After losing so much ground to Deborah she needed to assert her superiority and strength somehow, and a strip tease would certainly ---

"AHH!" Zipporah yelped, ricocheting backwards. In the closet, just chilling on the dress Colt had offered her was a large cockroach, waving its feelers at her.

"Kill it!" cried the woman who had earlier slayed a police officer with a cross bow, stumbling away from the threat.

[Tzach Dorman Colt]

He only shrugged, his back turned to her while his eyes rested upon the window, never moving them as far as her figure, at her apology. “It’s no big deal,” he stammered, of course, his face slowly turning red whilst he tried to wrestle the image of her in that drenched dress out of his mind. It was giving him an uneasy feeling, which would be partially obvious if he had turned around. He was glad that his friend’s shirt was rather baggy, but he seriously regretted ever putting on those nylon shorts. Meanwhile, the new girl had gone over to the closet, only in the matter of a few seconds to scream out loud.

He swiftly turned around, partially in fright, partially in concern, and gazed at the apparently empty closet. Well, the closet wasn’t exactly empty, for there were several dresses and a couple of suits in there. Just then, the girl had cried for him to kill it, and at first the boy was confused. But as he squinted his eyes and examined the dresses more closely, he saw that there was a big cockroach teasing the poor girl. With a slight roll of his eyes, knowing that girls were extremely cowards when it came to bugs, the boy picked up a man’s shoe, long abandoned, and approached the bug quickly, swinging at it as he came close enough. He could feel the shoe hitting its backside and watched as it went tumbling across the floor and then skittered out into the hallway in fright. He chased out after it and smashed it finally upon catching up to the little disgusting beast.

“Um, sorry,” the boy said as he returned into the room, looking up to apologize at her, but upon seeing her once more he immediately averted his gaze to the floor, swiftly turning around as well. “We don’t usually see them in the day.” But then again, they didn’t see the roaches mostly because they weren’t always in here during the day. He quickly made his way over to the beanie chair and slumped down, grabbing a nearby pillow and placing it across his waist. “Well… You can change now…” He mumbled, his cheeks already a furious red color for the humiliation that he was pretty much giving himself. Of course, he probably wouldn’t peek now, in the case that she could be highly alert now that she had seen a cockroach. He was partially disappointed, but then again, he couldn’t be any happier if she wasn’t, well, looking sexy.

[Vixen]

Zipporah blushed, mentally kicking herself for her childish outburst. She was to be Malachai’s replacement, exalted as Isaac’s second-in-command or even his wife, if she recovered from her recent setback. It was not becoming of the holder of either of those positions to recoil away from something as harmless as a bug. Just hours earlier she had shot an arrow into the heart of Gatlin’s most recent threat, the blue-woman. And she could not even smash a roach?

Luckily, she noted, the only person who looked down on her was her. Her newfound companion eliminated the insect with an admirable efficiency, and after a hasty apology allowed the subject to drop. Zipporah was eager to forget the incident as well, and returned to her original plan of using her feminine wiles to exert superiority over some creature.

But after taking another quick look at Colt, she wasn’t certain if she should continue on that route. He looked fairly young, and she didn’t want to seduce (ultimately rebuff, but seduce originally) a ten-year-old and brand herself as a pedophile. So she just took the garment that he had offered earlier into her hands and asked casually, “How many years are you?”

ooc: Now it's my turn to apologize. I was busy on Saturday.

[Tzach Dorman Colt]

OOC - No worries, it happens. =)

He noticed how it became quiet for a few seconds, and blushed. He wondered if she was checking him out, or if she was actually getting dressed in silence. If he looked, though, he could regret it, so kept his face straight, staring at the wall ahead of him. He had clutched his fingers together, fidgeting with his thumbs. The latter of his unspoken questions was answered when he heard the rustling from the closet. He knew then that she hadn’t started to change her clothes. A slight whimper, barely audible, escaped his throat while he fought to keep his mouth shut tight.

He jumped about half a foot in the air when he heard her voice quickly, asking for his age. For a second there, the poor child had forgotten just how old he was until it came running to him just as he started to open his mouth. “T-twelve,” he croaked, and started to turn his head to continue by saying he would be thirteen in a couple of months, but immediately whipped it back to the wall, shutting up as well. He did have good willpower, but temptation was stronger, especially with a boy like Colt. He liked to flirt with girls. He liked them. He loved making out with the girl from the gang. One thing he didn’t like about it, though, was meeting a girl he didn’t know at all and already feeling helplessly drawn to her.

[Vixen]

Zipporah pretended to examine the gown she had retrieved from the closet while her attention was truly on the younger boy. A surge of satisfaction rushed through her as she heard the stutter in his voice. This satisfaction grew when he began to turn to make eye contact, but instantly whirled away again.

He was twelve. Isaac was approximately that boy's age when he enlightened them all in the blessed path of He Who Walks Behind the Rows. If a boy at that age could purge all of Gatlin's sin and exalt the children to the rank of God's chosen, a boy at that age could also have his emotions spilled to the floor for Zipporah to pick through.

But he was twelve, so she knew she shouldn't take too much pride in his stumbling responses. He likely acted that way around all the pretty girls.

She knew, however, that he had never quite met one like her. With the reconnaisance complete and the location of her enemy known, the warrior buckled down and prepared to strike.

"Twelve's a fun age," she mused aloud, beginning to slip off her wet garment. As though absently, but planning the very angle of the flick of her wrist, she tossed it in Colt's direction, sending the message loud and clear: she was now naked. Undergarments weren't necessarily common, being difficult to make and difficult, once made, to wash. Or rather, they weren't necessarily common for Zipporah.

If he looked right now, he'd be satisfied, she knew, after appraising herself briefly. Her sun-kissed skin sprinkled with the rain drops, and clasping that around her already healthy figure made her a 'bombshell' as her sinful mother would have said.

Still, God wouldn't have been satisfied. She was teasing, not flaunting, so she slowly snuck her way into the dry dress. It was crudely made and felt rough against her skin, but the pros far outweighed the cons. It's subtle, burgundy color was one that Zipporah favored. And the fact that it was clearly made for someone far younger, or at least with a less generous chest certainly didn't detract any, either.

"Oh my," she cooed, as though shocked, and turned her attention away from her outfit and once more onto her companion, looking at him through narrowed, coy brown eyes. "It's a little small."

{ooc not the best post i've ever made, but meh. It's a little all-about-Zipporah, but she's sort of self-centered so...]

[Tzach Dorman Colt]

OOC - No worries, it was a great post! ^.^

His eyes had started to slowly crawl up the wall to the ceiling, dragging his head slightly along for the ride, as he started to try whistling. But all that came out of his utterly dry mouth was air blowing through. Part of him wanted so badly to just flirt with the new girl, but the better part of him, the shier part to be exact, told him to do otherwise, as in to keep looking away. He nodded in agreement, saying finally a whole word but in a hoarse voice, “Yeah.” Quickly, he cleared up his throat and tried to lick at his lips as well to make it wet, but even then his tongue was feeling dry.

Just then, something cold and wet hit him around the shoulders. “Oh! That’s cold!” He said as he sat upright, popping his shoulders back and pushing his chest outward as if to try and run away from the cold, wet feeling that he could sense in even his own shirt now. When the dress had hit him, by impact it had sent excess water into his shirt and now that it was at his waist, it felt even wetter. He quickly turned and grabbed the dress to throw it out, but he was ultimately distracted by the young woman’s naked figure. His eyes widened at the sight. He had never seen a girl of her age, or at least older than himself, naked before, so it was new to him. He was still sitting down, with the pillow over his waist, and had forgotten about the dress or the little pool of water forming in the dent where he had been sitting until his hand slipped into it.

The cold water had basically knocked him back to his senses, even more so with the cold feeling on his back from shoulder to behind, he was no longer distracted by her naked figure. He hurriedly picked up the dress and tossed it across the room, and used the bottom of his shirt to quickly wipe out the water. He was watching her at this point, and saw that she was about to look at him, so immediately turned around and pushed himself back into the dent so that he could try to pretend that nothing had happened. His face was indeed red. When she had mentioned the gown being a little small, he gulped and turned around to briefly look, trying to act cool. Either way, he just wanted not to get in trouble with the young woman.

“Oh…” He had opened his mouth but froze for a moment upon seeing her figure, all curvy and the like. But he managed to bring himself back to reality, blinking his eyes and shaking his head firmly. “Oh, no, no, no, you look really good… But I mean there’s maybe another dress in there or something. I mean, I know a family used to live here because we found some pictures, but you might not want to wear the mother’s dress, she was a little round around the middle if you know what I mean, and, and, and um, I mean, you look okay to me. Honestly, seriously, you do look really sexy - No, no! I didn’t just say that! I meant you look beautiful. Oh, my gosh…” He slapped himself in his face with both hands, officially, ultimately, humiliated. He turned around and leaned back in the beanie chair, far enough to start staring up at the ceiling frustrated with himself. He opened his mouth to try whistling again, but of course, his mouth was still pretty much dry. “Oh, gosh. I’m sorry.” He muttered in a hoarse voice, “I shouldn’t have said that.” Although he was mostly okay with it, it was still a girl he barely knew, someone a few years older than him, and someone that could've been married. He certainly didn't want to meet the lucky husband if anything was to happen.

[Vixen]

{ooc - you are a kind soul. }

Zipporah was never one to wear her heart on her sleeve. Frankly, nothing good could come from that. But a lot of bad would come from that. At best, other people had the opportunity to pick through your feelings and manipulate them to suit their own malignant purposes - and she would know all about that. At worse, her true feelings could be considered repugnant or even sinful, resulting in an expedient punishment which could range from a flogging to crucifiction to sacrifice to He Who Walks Behind the Rows himself - and she did not want to know anything about that.

So, the smile that she allowed to chisel her features was not a true one. Oh, she wanted to smile alright, but this one was a small, seductive smile that curved the edges of her mouth just enough to bait a male's curiosity. Her true smile, beneath the mask, was one of a hunter that had seen her prey stumble straight into her trap. The prey was the equivalent of a old, lame rabbit that any cross-eyed huntress could capture, but it would stay her hunger nonetheless.

Her sensual smile stayed planted on her face, but her eyes fluttered like those of of a blushing virgin on her wedding night. She drank in the sight of the blubbering boy before her, and then shot them to the floor. "I didn't mean to throw that dress of you!" she cried. "Oh my, I got you as wet as I am!"

With that exclamation (or pseudo sexual innuendo) still ringing in the air, she scurried towards the young boy, stopping but a foot away and leaning towards him, her head hovering just inches above her deep cleavage. "How can you worry about my dress when I was as rude as to -- Oh my! Where is my head? You'll be freezing! I'll have to warm you up, somehow!" She inclined her body even closer to the child, her head curving as though she were about to press her lips against his, her eyes fixed on his cheeks and waiting for the blush to paint across them

But, in a split-second decision which added credence to her following act, she recoiled before she could see whether or not her attempt to paint was successful. Instead, she pressed her hands to her breast and grinned. "Did you just say I was sexy?" she cooed, batting her eyelashes as though trying to fight back tears. "That is just the sweetest thing I have ever heard! Well," she shrugged coyly. "From someone as handsome as you anyway." A clumsy character for this piece, but she figured that twelve-year-old boy wouldn't want a seasoned pro, and would instead want some girl to stroke his ego.

[Tzach Dorman Colt]

Colt was in shock by now. What with the shirt and upper part of his nylon shorts being wet, and the pillow being over his waist to hide a certain something, he was even more surprised when she had come so close to him, with her breasts right in front of his face where he could see them clearly. Because his eyes had fallen upon them, all he could really do was stare at them, and then let his eyes move up to the young woman’s face as she spoke some more. "It's... really no biggie..." He would've added that a hug could warm him up but he was still in awe. He saw that her mouth was so close to his, and since his mouth was open, although not wide, he almost found himself leaning forward for a kiss. But she had pulled back right at the last minute. His face was turning redder by the second, and he thought that he could feel the room getting hotter.

“Huh…” He was appalled now to find that she thought he was handsome. Not cute like older girls would probably call him, or even a pervert for ever trying to flirt with them, but actually being called handsome by this particular woman boosted up his self-confidence quite a bit. “Um, um, ha, thanks…” Now he knew it wasn’t the room that was getting hot, it was actually him! He was so confused as to what to do. Should he try and get up and run away, or should he just kiss her like he had been wanting to all along? He reached up and tugged at the collar of the shirt to try and cool himself down a bit but just a tug wasn’t working wonders. The girl was still so close. “You’re not so bad yourself,” he chuckled as he glanced away, trying to avert her gaze.

[Vixen]

Awe. The cute little thing had his confidence bolstered. Shocked, of course, but ultimately working his moves on her. If those could be called 'moves'

It's no biggie, he said. She was sure it wasn't, at least in the place that mattered, but restrained the temptation from saying so.


Zipporah giggled at the compliment, hiding her mouth behind a fluttering hand. Under that shrowd, she dug her teeth into her lips' flesh, fighting to keep the light in her eyes and to not flinch.

But her effots were not in vain, for when withdrew her hand and smiled, her lips had become redded as though she had crayoned them with very-useful-but-unfortunately-forbidden lipstick. The withdrawn hand was now twirling a strand of golden hair between her middle and pointer finger. Her other hand, however, curved its wrist and placed slender finger against her bottom lip. 'Not so bad'?" she quoted with a soft mewl as though hurt, but allowing the smile to remain on her reddened lips as though she had been betrayed. "Is that all you can say to me?"

Instantly, she eliminated her jovial expression and morhed into something coldly fierce. Her eyes narrowed dangerously, her eye lashes brushing against her brown irises like wind against ice. And then, right when she figured that her helpless prey had begun to panic she beamed winningly and corrected. "Honey, I'm a Goddess. You've insulted my honor.

"And you know, when a Goddess is insulted," her eyes glittered and she arched her back forward, once again showering him with the honor of seeing the crowns of her golden breasts, the ebony shadow of her cleavage, "she demands tribute."

[Tzach Dorman Colt]

He saw the lipstick, and was very certain at this point that she probably couldn’t resist him. But then again, she was older than him by a few years, and he was also sure that women like her were able to control their urges when around a young man as handsome as he. There was also the possibility that this particular young lady had a husband, and he didn’t want to meet the lucky bastard who got her hand in marriage if anything was to happen. When asked if that was all he could say, really, to be honest, he couldn’t really say much. He was rather speechless at her antics, even more so at her appearance.

However, that face he was liking turned into something worse, at least for any man alive. It seemed like one of anger, one that would definitely strike fear into even the bravest of men. She stated that she was a goddess, and explained that somehow he had insulted her honor. Of course, he would’ve liked to say that there was only one god and that was He Who Walks Behind the Rows, but then again he was pretty much confused and not sure as to what to do. Now she said she demanded tribute. Uneasy, Colt only gulped in fear, but raised an eyebrow and tried to look as maturely brave as possible, while slowly inching away from her. “What kind of tribute?” He asked nervously.