“Alright, but do I have to keep holding the beaver?” Gideon shot a sideways glance at his best friend. Sighing, he replied,
“For the last time, it’s a platypus, not a beaver.” Asher shrugged, nearly letting the animal in question get away. It had his tie in its mouth now, and was making rather aggressive-sounding clicking noises. Watching Asher struggle with the small mammal was almost as funny as watching his mother-in-law chase the cousins around the house at Christmastime.
“Whatever,” Asher spat, “I swear to God, I’m going to chuck this thing at your face. Why’d you bring it, anyway?”
“Delphia’s idea.” Gideon bent over to wipe some of the grime off his boots. Being on the ground for so long was beginning to irritate him. “She said that the Oracle is into this kind of stuff.” He looked up at Asher through his mask of dark hair, offering a warning with his eyes. “You drop it and you’re dead. Do you have any idea how hard it was to find a platypus in this city?” Asher shook his head but Gideon didn’t bother clarifying. It had been meant as a rhetorical question; Asher was too much of an air-head to figure it out.
“I haven’t seen Delphia in ages,” he said eventually, trying to act as if his unspoken question had been answered. Gideon had since straightened up and was now retying his tie for the sake of doing something. The platypus had given up on flailing and had resolved to chewing and drooling on Asher’s shirt. The latter-mentioned party didn’t seem to notice.
“Yeah. She’s been in Carron,” Gideon replied absentmindedly. He thought back to the time he had last spoken with his sister. It had been at least three years ago, because both of them were at home. The family was fighting over something he couldn’t remember; it was Gideon and Delphia versus their father and step-mother, as always. Delphia said something about skipping town and moving in with one of her artist friends. At the time, Gideon hadn’t taken her seriously, but not a month later she was gone. She just up and left in the middle of the night for a city half-way across the world, and Gideon hadn’t heard from her until last week, when he stopped in Carron for a few days to buy some supplies.
Sure enough, his sister had been living with her boyfriend of four years (or were they engaged now?), a metalworker by trade. He wasn’t in the good kind of metalworking, either -- Denver was from the northern province of Ackershire, and, therefore, a scumbag. He made sculptures rather than ships, and spent most of his time chasing after women of the night. Delphia didn’t seem to mind, though, for the two were still living together when Gideon had dropped off for a visit.
“So she really did go through with it all,” Asher said almost dreamily.
“By ‘all’, do you mean the whole ‘screw the world, I am who I want to be and no one is going to tell me different’ thing?” Asher nodded. “Then yeah, she did go through with it all.”
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