Extraordinary

On a chilly night, nearly eleven in the evening, the orange-haired male picked up his coat to leave. On his way out of the manor, he kept thinking of his conversation with the Master Hockley. Harrison was originally given the impression that Forrest Gage Hockley was no special specimen at all. The rumors of him and what his close acquaintances had shared with him, were all quite boring. They made him out to be like some idol, while others called him a spoiled brat who faked being melancholic at the funeral. And maybe there was truth in each rumor he's heard, but of course, there was more to it than that.

"Good evening, Harrison." A lanky man greeted, voice soft and friendly. Harrison returned the greeting with his own polite one as the two entered the carriage, telling the coachman to hurry on their way to their destination.

"How have you been doing? The Hockleys aren't treating you too bad, are they?" The lanky man asked (faking) worry, making Harrison chuckle lightly. "Work has turned out to be much more eventful than I first believed it to be. Forrest Gage Hockley is only making my job easier while his wife is…how shall I say this?" Before he could finish, the man had cut him off, "I trust you've made progress, yes?"

Harrison threw his head back, "Patience! The journey is not a simple walk down a straight path, but an entire ocean of obstacles! That woman, especially, will not so easily be within reach. If anything, I expect her to become more and more distant. But it really is all depending on the method used and the timing, both needing to be done with absolute perfection. Is he as impatient as you shamelessly make yourself to be?"

"How on earth would I know? I don't, and doubt ever will, understand what he's thinking, making you do such a thing. He's a barbarian, Harrison! You could easily get away from him, even without my help!"

Harrison sighed and crossed his arms, giving the lanky man a fixed glare. "Do you know what makes an extraordinary person? One who is free? Or one who is imprisoned? But free from what, and imprisoned by what? Law and morale, love and hate, wood and glass and silver and ice. Each different and similar at the same time, but then what is free and what is imprisoned? I don't understand any of it, not one bit. Working for the Hockleys helps me naught, with the husband and wife being so…strange. Extraordinary…" He trailed off, getting lost in thought while the man sitting opposite of him came up with an absurd idea. "So kill them."

"I beg your pardon?"

The lanky man chuckled then used a gloved hand to cover his mouth to muffle the sounds, ignoring the questioning and almost horrified look on Harrison's face. The former suddenly put his hands on either side of his thighs, clutching onto the seat and burst into a fit of hysterical laughter, eyes squeezed shut. Harrison, clearly, felt uncomfortable and kicked the lanky man's shin as if to tell him to shut it.

"What an expression you had just then, Harrison! It was truly a sight! Aha!"

"I've forgotten who I'm so unfortunately acquainted with, it seems." Harrison sighed, shifting in his seat until he was comfortable enough.

"Well, would you at least spare me some more of your time so that I can explain?" The lanky man asked, a few lose chuckles still falling out from his mouth. He was slow when it came to calming himself, especially when he became too amused.

"You called your boss a barbarian for giving me orders, yet you suddenly became so bold as to share your absurdity with me? And daring to suggest something irrelevant at that! Why on God's green earth would I murder the woman?" Harrison felt more insulted than he thought he'd be.

The man sitting opposite end of him grinned a wry grin, intertwining his gloved fingers. "I always did wonder why he would use you in his little game. In all truthfulness, I find you to be unfit for...well...all of this. I'd have preferred you to actually be apart of the Edavane family. They are good people."

"Good people? What makes you say that?"

"Oh? And what are you thinking that makes you sound so dejected?" Harrison didn't feel the need to answer.

...

Is it acceptable, to feel lost, to the point where your face feels numb yet your body keeps moving? Your hands, feet, eyes, heart. What is it, to feel lost?

Must one be stuck in the middle of a never ending forest, where the wall of trees is a fortress that stretches out for miles, and no one knows of the way out? Must one be standing outside a great crowd of people? Men, women, and children walking in a confined space, each with their own ambitions and goals, yet unshared with anyone else. That's the thing, though, isn't it? There are no "musts".

Cordelia sat on the edge of the fountain (she had become fond of that particular spot in the garden, as it gave her a perfect view of her precious roses and the fountain itself was a sight in itself) and stared blankly at the carvings. That day, she had felt slightly off. It was a strange feeling indeed, mainly because of the fact that she couldn't tell if she were frustrated or grateful. So, on that one spectrum of things as well as countless others, she had no idea where she sat. That feeling became less rare, and that was also quite questionable. It was a curious experience in her time but supposedly, her mind was giving her peace and quiet. For, at least, an indefinite amount of time.

Ah, an "indefinite amount of time". With the number of times she had heard those words, she almost wanted to become spontaneous and do something wild, even if the consequences are harsh. Perhaps she needed to see something inspiring for that flame to reawake within her.