Flames And Blades

Chapter Thirty-One: Little Talks

The dinner itself was almost...an entirely different dimension than the one I was living in. The fabrics of the carpets and the tacky and cracked linoleum I had known very well as normal from a very young age. Just about everything in this place shouldn't be considered strange at all to me, it was just as normal as any place we were told to clear out as volunteer hours or as a way to serve any petty crime committed. I shouldn't feel any more out of place in this dinner than I should be fearing every corner with the sun still bright in the sky and protecting even the shadows it was creating.

Yet I did. The restaurant was about as abandoned as I was at infancy, the only difference now is that while the place looked dead and pitiful on the outside it was anything but on the inside; full of life and smiles. I begin to think that maybe I am in the exact reverse situation and could very well still be abandoned and left to die of my own devices very soon.

"So, I'm assuming you guys are starving and have never had anything as 'illegal' like this, but let me tell you, this was one of our favourite go-to meals during the Destruction.". Mr. Williamson winks at me and gives the waitress his coffee and a chair while taking two trays carrying two plates, all of them containing mountains of food that looked entirely interesting and alien to me.

The plates before us held humungous piles of fluffy bread that seemed to make a sandwich of sorts with a very shiny brown thing in the middle. In between the substance and the fluffy bread that looked yummy was lettuce, that I could recognize, and then there were bits of yellow, red, and chunky green...goo, topped with a, what looked like a cucumber gone spoiled. Besides the creation of a thing called food was a pile of shiny golden rectangle potatoes with crystals all over them. The entire meal confused me until I recalled back to a few DVD's I had watched of couples on dates getting something similar called a 'cheeseburger and fries'.

I looked over and saw Oliver eyeing his plate suspiciously too, he had squinted at his plate so hard that a piece of his hair had floofed unto his forehead. Then my hand was reaching for his plate, where I grabbed what I thought was a french fry, dipped it into some of the red stuff from his burger and bit it. He looked at me, at first, shocked, and then, when I smiled from ear to ear at how good the thing was, he returned the favour. Following my actions, he took the fried food that would undoubtedly get us pushed into slavery if we were caught, took a bite, and kept a groan internal has he chewed.

When he finished that, he swivelled his head and the hair of his that had somehow managed to get even messier in under a minute, to Mr. Williamson, of whom I refuse to mentally call anything else until he has given me proof of being worthy of doing so.

"Mr. Williamson, you took part in the Destruction, like the Destruction?" He had sounded so shocked I almost had to stifle a giggle, instead, I chose to stuff my face with the warm and greasy food in front of me. Being only a lotta bit scared of the black bubble liquid that came in an ice cup labelled in cursive.

"Damn right I did, fought off ruffians and thugs, too". His wink had given way to the sarcasm I had thought of before his voice had even broken out.

"Can I ask, Mrs-"

"Call me Indi, kid."

"Okay, Indi, can I ask how you, you um well, defeated these guys in the Destruction." Oliver stampers out, sitting as still as humanly possible.

"Well, I look back at the training I had with my crew. 'Love is the strength, and strength is a weakness.' one of the someones had said to me in passing. I thought he had been in a daze from the war around us at the time. I had thought nothing of it. Now, now it is different. Now, it makes sense. Love accomplishes every emotional power needed to make a unique form of strength. One in which can overpower many things. Like an overall sense of the things around you. This makes you weak. Weak to everything. But this weakness, what was left in the dying embers of its usage, is that it is a strength as well. The strength of fear. Fear, if you let it, gives an edge to everything. Sharpens the very senses that make life. It's an instinct in the body. When fear sets in, your body goes alert, not wanting to die. Thus, love being the strength, and strength being a weakness, gives passions, ones that make you strong, and doesn't give you strength. It gives you something better. It gives you, a chance. A chance to live to see all four of those combined, a chance to see your best be bested, I used that all and just...just let it out." She sighed and went back to eating her food.