Fangs and Diamonds

Lekel

Lekel sighed as he lied lousily across his bed in the dark. Hunger gnawed at him, but he chose to lazily lounge about for now. The young Maurian could already hear the muffled arguing between his parents around what he guessed to be the early hours of the day. He laid still, half listening to their bickering.

"...and if you think 004 has any idea what he has done, you are a daf'tol!" The voice of his mother shouted.

"Are you trying to defy his orders?" Challenged his father's voice.

"At this rate, I might as well!"

"I can hardly comprehend you."

"I can barely understand you!"

"You are so childish."

"No, I am not."

"You are."

"The only child here is Lekel."

Lekel winced at that comment.

There was a moment of silence before his father spoke up, "Lekel is not a child. He is sixteen."

"Sixteen or not, he is a child, and..."

Lekel covered his ears. He didn't need–or want–to hear any more of their nonsensical ramblings. He slowly got up so as to not alert them. He wandered around the darkness of his room for a moment before finding a set of relatively clean clothing.

He changed into a long-sleeved, tan shirt with loose ebony pants. He decided to put on a brick red vest as well as vests seemed to be in fashion, not that was his main interest. All he cared about was fitting in and being unnoticeable.

Lekel pulled his dark brown hair back in a low, traditional Maurian ponytail. He wasn't too fond of it, but he wasn't going to argue with his mother anytime soon about it.

He nonchalantly looked at his reflection in the small mirror that hung over his dresser. He glanced at the reflected scar over his left cheek and at the dark circles under his eyes. He involuntarily ran his pointer finger over the nick in his left ear.

Sudden stomping made Lekel flinch harshly. He hesitated before edging slowly to the door. He placed a pointed ear to it.

"013...!" He could hear the concern in his father's voice for his mother before it grew inaudible.

He couldn't make out what was being said, but the conversation was fainter. He figured they were taking the argument to the other bedroom.

Lekel's stomach growled quietly. Now was his best chance to eat and avoid unwanted attention. Perhaps he'd even be able to escape without being berated by his mother about leaving their quarters.

He waited a moment to ensure his parents were actually outside of the main room before carefully slipping out. Lekel's pupils contracted as he stepped into the light. Out of habit, his greenish gaze flicked about the room. He then looked to the cabinet placed beside the replicator.

He casted a glance at the replicator as he opened the door to the gray standing cabinet. Despite being here for a month, he still had no clue how to work the replicator due to his family's... unusual diet.

Inside the cabinet were individually wrapped pieces of jerky. If Lekel had to guess, at least half of this had gone bad months ago. His eyes wandered the unorganized cupboard before grabbing what seemed to be what he believed was closest to the concept of fresh.

He could still hear muffled arguing coming from his parents' room. He did his best to ignore it as he sat down at their dining room table. His shaky hands struggled to open the packaging, but when he did, he reflexively scrunched his face at the sour smell.

Despite it being well beyond expired, he ate the jerky anyway. He's had worse, and at this point, his body was primarily used to the pain of it all.

Lekel casted a wary glance at the door to his parents' room before quietly getting up and disposing of the wrapper. He silently headed to his room once more. He glanced at a small, leather-bound satchel that laid across the dresser. Casually, he pulled the strap over his head. It rested at his side as he slipped on a pair of well-worn Maurian sandals.

He headed off quickly, wanting to avoid them as much as possible.

He instinctively slouched over as he wandered down the mainly empty halls of the habitat ring. He eventually made his way to the turbolift and soon found himself in the crowds of the Promenade.

Suddenly, he felt like he was being watched. Paranoia ran through him as he stopped. He turned his eyes to the upper section and came into eye contact.