Valeria sat eating her sandwich at her empty table. Other tables had groups of two to four people seated and eating. The cafe wasn't very large, so all the men and women had to share tables and eventually they formed groups. Valeria, for some reason, remained with only herself at her table.

                She was a small girl, which most would assume to be in her later teens, with extremely long pitch black hair.  Not many knew she was well over 200 years old, nor did they talk with her long enough to find it out. She didn't care though; she liked the animosity she had obtained. Although the only reason she had that animosity was because of her only friend, who was late to lunch.

                ‘Where is he this time?’ she thought to herself, though she had an idea. He usually wasn't this late. In fact, the only times he was late was after his attempts at escaping to his ‘outside world’ he spoke of. If there was an outside world, Valeria would have seen it by now.  She would have at least heard of it. But every time she asked someone -creator, guard, or fellow creation- all she got was some form of ‘I don’t know where he got it.’ She knew how bad he wanted it to be real, so she had pretended to believe him. He needed some support.

                Of course, there were her dreams to consider. For as long as she could remember, Valeria had had dreams of a lush green plain, with a silver road running through it. They seemed a girl’s fancy to the Creator’s, but she felt as if they had some significant meaning. As if she longed to return to it, though she had never been to the place in her dreams…

                From behind her, Valeria heard a snicker followed by the sound of something being thrown. Pulling herself from her thoughts, Valeria immediately shot a small amount of her Force outward and heard a splattering on the floor behind her. She turned and saw some mashed potatoes spread on the floor. A group of male creations sat snickering at her. It had come from Bleard, the largest of the creations and a renown bully throughout the facility in which they lived. He liked to mess with any and everyone he wasn't friends with. Luckily she had enough practice at her ability to protect herself without her friend.

                As she turned back to her sandwich, Valeria heard someone speak close by. “Well that wasn’t very nice, was it, Val?” Drakmor said as he sat beside her, his leg touching hers and nearly causing her to jump.

                As usual, he had all him silver hair pulled back into a ponytail. His eyes matched his hair and he wore the usual trousers with no shirt, though they seemed to be wore out for some reason. That metallic arm of his still gave her the creeps, but the rest of his torso was covered in silver tinted skin that looked to be pulled tight over taut muscles. He wasn't as large as Bleard, who now cursed at Drakmor's appearance, but he was well-built. Valeria found him to be amazing, though she would never tell Drakmor, else he grow a enlarged head.

Valeria dropped her sandwich on her plate and crossed her arms, resisting the urge to embrace him. Drakmor chuckled and smiled slyly. “You know, I was only a little late,” he said, picking up his own sandwich. The machine that fed them food always mixed up the menu, but Valeria couldn't remember the last time sandwiches were served.

“You were caught trying to escape again weren’t you, Drak?” she asked him quietly.

Drakmor looked down and she met his silver eyes. They were bloodshot, so she could tell he hadn't slept much the night before. The silver veins in Drakmor's eyes worried her, but she knew it was normal for him. “Now what makes you say that, Val?” he said with a slight smile.

“You did! I knew you did! Are you an idiot, Drak?” she yelled at him. Drakmor just smiled wolfishly and glanced down. Valeria immediately caught what he had looked for. She blushed and punched him as hard as she could in the face, knocking him to the floor. Even though her simple skirt covered her entire body, he could probably see some cleavage from his angle. Though she wasn't the most endowed woman in the facility, Drakmor still seemed to only look at her. “Pervert!”

“Sorry, Val, you’re just that beautiful,” he said as he picked himself off the floor and sat back down. She felt slightly bad for knocking him down, even though she knew she couldn’t hurt him, but quickly reminded herself that he deserved it. She had always been stronger than the creations in the facility. Except for Bleard and Drakmor, of course. She knew there was a few others as well, but she couldn't think of them.

Drakmor turned and began eating his sandwich. Drakmor and Valeria always ate the same thing. They always had, ever since he had come in. She still remembered that frail boy who stared at her with awe and told her that he liked her long black hair and followed her around all the time. She had been in her fifties at the time. Initially she rejected him because she outlived a few of her friends, but eventually she gave up. Valeria was glad she hadn't outlived him. He seemed to be the only one who never aged, just like her. He had changed in his time that she knew him, but only in appearance. He was still innocent, even if a bit perverted at times.

“From the look on your face,” Drakmor said, “I’m guessing your thinking of the day I met you and told you how pretty you were.”

                She looked at him and blushed. He always knew what she was thinking. Well, mostly. “Close, I was thinking of how polite you were back then.” She smiled and stuck her tongue out at him. Drakmor simply replied with his own tongue then laughed.

                “You know Val, it’s only a matter of time before I see the surface and then the outside world,” he said, “Why don’t you escape with me?” From the look on his face, he was serious. But, then again, she knew he always was. He simply had no reason not to be. It was who he was. Drakmor.

                “Because we’ll get caught, Drak, and then the nice creators won’t talk to me nicely anymore.” She knew it was a pathetic reason, but Valeria would not tell Drakmor the real reason.

                “Come on, little girl, you know they would forgive a cutie like you. Even if you think you’re marred by the mark thing. I think it makes you unique and gorgeous!” Drakmor finished what he said off with his traditional goofy grin that only he seemed able to produce. She usually got mad when someone mentioned her mark. It was widely kept secret, simply because she didn’t tell anyone. But after she had shown Drakmor all those years ago, she knew he really did find it beautiful. Probably because of where it was located: right under her right breast.  He was a bit of a pervert after all.

                “How about this, you stop trying to escape and I’ll show you that mark again?” Valeria asked Drakmor in the sweetest voice she could conjure up. His face burst into a red color and he looked away, which made Valeria laugh. It was after he had seen the mark that they were reprimanded and taught about intimacy. Not even Valeria was aware of what she was taught. But, they never felt awkward around each other, despite the experience.  The others around them probably thought them crazy or strange but Valeria never could seem to care when Drakmor was around.

                He looked at her, face still red, and said, “You know you’re not funny, Val…” She just kept giggling to herself. He seldom blushed simply because he had control over his emotions through the intense training the creators put him through and when he did she found it hilarious. He did not. Although he often acted perverted he had never seen a girl, aside from the time Valeria showed him her mark, naked. As far as she knew at least. She had been naked in front of other girls, so it hadn’t bothered her too much back then. Now, however, the thought almost made her blush. But, for the sake of a joke, she wouldn't let Drakmor know.

                “Drak, you should come sleep in my room sometime, like in the old days when you were a boy,” Valeria said in his ear. Drakmor, however, stared at his food with a blank face. They were allowed to sleep anywhere with consent from a creator. That statement usually made him blush, because of the indications, and he would say something about him not knowing about relations back then. The blank face meant something was wrong. “What is it, Drakmor?” she asked, immediately regretting what she had said.

                He continued to stare for a moment before answering with his usual smile. “I’m no longer aloud to sleep in another’s room,” he said, “In fact; my permanent bed is now the sarcophagus.” Valeria moved closer and embraced him. She couldn't imagine being locked up in the darkness.

                “Why would they do that to you, Drak?” she asked. She knew they took precautionary measures with his recent escapes by locking him up in the iron casket for a day or so, but forcing him to sleep in it every night was a bit too harsh. He looked at her and smiled.

                “Easy, it’s because I’m too much for them to handle!” Drakmor said cheerily, staring at his mechanical arm. “Don’t worry; I’m used to it by now.” Valeria only held him tighter. She felt as if she should say something.

                That something, however, never came as Bleard walked up and punched Drakmor in the head, knocking both him and Valeria to the ground. Drakmor immediately jumped up and swung at Bleard. The bald, muscular man blocked and kneed Drakmor in the stomach. Drakmor just grunted and started swinging wildly. Bleard blocked all the blows with ease, for he was the better fighter, but Drakmor seemed to be keeping up, or so Valeria thought.

                Bleard intercepted a punch and grabbed Drakmor’s left arm, then threw him across the floor. “Is this all you’ve got Steelcrusher?” Bleard yelled in his deep voice, “I thought you actually had some muscle!” Drakmor got up slowly and mumbled something. Bleard laughed, “What was that? You’re going to do what to me?”

                Drakmor sprang forward at insane speeds and grabbed Bleard by his shirt collar. Then, he lifted Bleard up as high as he could, which was just off the ground. “I said,” Drakmor yelled at Bleard,”That I will throw you across this room for hurting Valeria!” Valeria felt herself blush and decided to help her friend. Drakmor threw Bleard toward the far end of the room and Valeria shot her Force after him, making the bald man smash a huge dent into the far wall. Drakmor watched Bleard’s unconscious form fall to the ground then walked over to Valeria and helped her up as the guards entered the lunch area.

The End

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