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 Posted: Wed Oct 28, 2009 9:48 am
on this page the first day
we found you
little people
i dub thee rahk and ro
pwned
the next day
the day after that
and so on
halloween
lost and found (PRP)
one tent, two tent, red tent, blue tent (PRP)
contractions
five minutes 'til magic time
cooking in the middle districts (PRP)
alone
writing
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Posted: Wed Oct 28, 2009 9:49 am
we found you
october 26-27, 2009 Prologue, by Graficcha It had been a rough night in the lower District. Chaos out on the streets, some sort of prison break, some reported, others blamed the general youth gone astray, nobody really knew anything. Fact remained, Life Essentials had closed for the night, and nobody was around to guard the entrance.
Not that Misha or Longway could have prevented the man from breaking his way in, driven by fear, rage? He just had to get away from those who were on his tail, hah. Once he found his shelter more than suitable to spend the hours in, he had no reservations about raiding the staff room's supplies of cookies and sandwich toppings. No wonder he wasn't ashamed to tinker about with those odd boxes on the corner desk - Longway's assembly of 'purty things'. All empty, however exquisite or plain weird they looked, all but the one right there in the centre... It looked a lot like some sort of checkers box, and the man lifted it up and gave it a shake, finding it weighed down, but not by something that made any noise. Upon opening it, he was most surprised to find it contained this odd rock, with... glowy stuff on it. Rather pretty it looked, nested in silvery-soft cloth. The man had no idea of what he was holding. Twenty, thirty years of age, he was too young to know.
A sound outdoors made his already paranoid mind skip a beat, and without further thought, he slammed the lid close again. He had to get out of here, he'd lingered too long. Within moments, the man was gone, leaving Life Essentials a little more disturbed than it had been before. With him, he carried the Spark, thinking it no more valuable than a rare piece of rock that he might get a nice price for on the red market. Maybe some jeweler would find it interesting, or some other rich collector...
The man never made it to any sort of transfer station. Not very long after his departure from the shop, the box lay discarded under a park bush. Signs of struggle were clearly visible all around, but in this sweltering centre of anarchy that was nothing strange.
Nobody paid the monochrome container any heed, and nobody was able to respond to the faint double pulse, softly pleading to be heard.
Haunted houses were popular in Vargash around this time of year, especially the ones in the lower district. His first few nights on the job, Astan had desperately wanted to inform the screeching young professionals that frequented the house he worked that phony werewolves, vampires and mummies were basically the same no matter where in town you went. The ones in better neighborhoods probably even had the genuine articles. All the vampires Astan had ever seen on the news were pretty upper-crusty. Surely they had trust fund kids who needed extra spending money around the holidays. Wait. Could vampires even have kids?
He had arranged for a paid vacation from bouncing at Forty-Five to take this gig, a seasonal thing that spanned two long weeks in late October. Earning three paychecks was almost worth donning a velvet cape and enough makeup to put all four members of Kiss to shame. What it was not worth was the additional expectation that he would then scream at paying customers for seven hours straight, with only one short break to scarf down a burrito somewhere in the middle. He comforted himself in the knowledge that there were only five more nights to go. It was two-fifteen in the morning now, early for some, but painfully late when one had to be up for another job in three hours.
Astan shuffled through the park, slump-shouldered, his size probably the only factor keeping him from getting mugged. He yawned, rubbed his eyes, blinked, rubbed his eyes again.
Was that bush glowing?
He glared at this shrub that had the audacity to interrupt his scattered thoughts. There was evidence of a scuffle in the dusty mess at his feet and the small shred of ripped cloth hanging from a nearby bench, but the foliage remained pristine, and the eerie orange light splintering through it was definitely not natural. As if it appreciated Astan's attention, the light flared more brightly for a moment before settling back to its steady, dimmer glow.
"Who's there? What do you want?" It might have been late but the park was still inhabited. Astan wasn't alone. Nearby, a crazy-looking vagrant picked up his pace in an attempt to move out of earshot of the man in full face paint bellowing to himself. Astan nearly accosted the bush, expecting to find a cat or bat or porcupine carrying a glowstick, but instead he found a box, a half-open box on its side, a small goo-spouting rock carelessly tossed nearby. It was... pretty. The rock brightened briefly for a second time.
Astan didn't know what possessed him to pick it up. Obviously the last person who had held the rock had met with trouble considering the scuffle and the fact that he or she no longer had it. He retrieved the box first, its smooth surface unmarred, even after its fall. The rock was lighter than he thought it would be and it flared for the third and last time as he rescued it from the ground. He felt nothing at first, then a sort of startled sleepiness, like the rock was waking from a nap it hadn't meant to take. Faint voices ghosted through his mind. They weren't speaking any language he knew, yet he understood.W...who? What do you want? Tell us what to do. Yes, apologies. Make it quick. What is our Purpose? "I don't know," Astan said aloud. He briefly wondered why a rock was asking him questions, but only a moment later other uninvited thoughts flickered through his exhausted mind: Saturday morning cartoons, smiles, hugs, the friends he had lost, his parents. He shook his head, brow furrowing.Done. "What?" There was a flutter in his stomach and a tightness in his chest, the feelings akin to the ones that had accompanied his childhood fear of roller coasters. A faint anticipation followed, but it seemed the drama was over. The rock was warm in his palm, its spiraling orange goo still burbling but self-contained.
Astan gave the thing a suspicious glare before carefully tucking it away in its checkered box. Whatever the hell was going on would have to wait until morning.
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Posted: Wed Oct 28, 2009 9:50 am
little people
october 27, 2009 Morning. Or not.
Before Astan even had a chance to crack an eyelid, he knew that whatever the current time was, it could no longer be termed 'morning.' Something had happened to his alarm clock. He dragged a hand across his face, muttering a curse when he realized he was still wearing his costume, at least the smeary face paint part of it. He opened his eyes.
There was a creature on his nightstand, standing on top of his out of commission clock. It was glaring at him. He knew that glare.
"Your face is melting off," it whispered.
Astan stared. An Essentic. That damn rock was an Essentic. He felt a tug on his hair and reached up, absently detangling the mysterious braid he found there. He turned. A second proto, identical to the first, sat on his upper arm, tiny mouth stretched in a happy grin.
Two Essentics. Wonderful.
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Posted: Tue Nov 03, 2009 6:33 pm
i dub thee rahk and ro
october 27, 2009 Astan stashed the pair under a hastily emptied hamper he placed in the center of the living room while showering and shaving. The hamper was further secured by a couple of books and a large drum he had purchased half a year ago. The Essentics didn't complain, which probably should have tipped him off to the fact that they had no intention of going very far on their own. They did, however, try to escape. A short while later, Astan stumbled out of the bathroom at the sound of a crash. The hamper was overturned, the books flopped open on the floor, the drum splintered a little.
"What happened?" he asked, rubbing his t-shirt over the shaving cream that lingered on his neck. The question, as it turned out, was sort of a silly one. It was quite obvious what had happened. Astan might have also mistakenly used his outside voice to ask the question. He wasn't used to having people around anymore. Essentics. Whatever.
"We do not wish to remain in this box, Man," the one who had spoken earlier said. Astan could tell it was the same one because of the mildly exasperated expression on its face. "Must we stay in the box?"
Well, s**t. Now he felt like some sort of death row prison guard. "No, you don't have to stay in... hey!" While his attention had been captured by the talking one, the smiley one had began scaling the side of his pant leg and was now inching its way up his back. It settled on his shoulder and began pulling at his hair again, only this time, since he had gathered it into a ponytail after his shower, it kind of hurt. He sighed. "Like this." Astan reached up and pulled a thin chunk of hair free of the elastic. "Gently." The proto grabbed the ends of his hair, more gingerly this time, and quickly got to braiding.
"You," Astan said to the talky one. "Don't call me Man. Please? My name is Astan."
"We would like names, Astan," Talky said. Astan could feel light tugs at his new braid in sync with Smiley's nods.
"Don't you want to pick 'em? You can be called anything you want, I think. Go wild, kids. Rock and roll."
"Those names are adequate. I will be this Rahk. It is the nicer name of the two. You will be Ro," it announced, pointing up at its sibling.
"Wait, what? No! Those aren't names. They're... lame!" The newly dubbed Rahk leveled its glare at him once more. He knew that glare. It was his glare. He had seen it hundreds of times in now-embarrassing photos of himself as a kid. "Where did you learn to make that face?" he asked, bending over awkwardly so Ro wouldn't drop to the floor. He reached out a hand, intending to scoop the Essentic up, but Rahk darted under the television stand, between the DVD player and cable box, disappearing before Astan could reach it.
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Posted: Tue Nov 03, 2009 6:34 pm
pwned
october 27, 2009 It didn't take Rahk long to come out of hiding. Astan was preoccupied with watching Ro explore the kitchen counter, so he didn't notice right away.
"That's a bottle opener," he said, lifting the instrument and holding it out for the proto to see. "Can you say..."
"It does not speak," Rahk said, its high, clipped, no nonsense voice carrying easily even without much volume behind it.
"Oh, I..." Astan turned. He started to crouch, looking to get as close as he could to the Essentic's level. "You're not going to run away again, are you?"
Rahk shook its head. The gesture was perhaps the most human thing Astan had seen it do since it had emerged. He lowered his hand and Rahk stepped on, allowing itself to be lifted to the countertop. It quickly approached Ro and took a seat, dragging the other Essentic down to sit with it. The three stood and sat in awkward silence for at least a full minute.
"So..."
"Tell us what we should do."
Astan scratched at the back of his neck. "You don't know? I mean, don't you come with things to do? You're Essentics, right?"
Rahk shrugged. Humaner and humaner.
"Yeah. I think you are."
"What does that mean?"
"It probably means this was all a mistake. I should return you."
Rahk said, "We will not go." Ro shook its head.
Astan's mouth quirked in slight irritation and he sighed. "Look, I just think you'd be better off with someone else. That guy, that... Banning? He didn't have anyone planned for you?"
Rahk's fist clenched and its words came out even faster than normal. "We do not know what you are talking about and we think you should be quiet." Ro didn't look like it agreed with the part about being quiet, but it did look slightly upset and had been looking that way for the length of the conversation. "If you do not want us we will leave, but we will not live with another. We are yours."
"My... what?"
Rahk shrugged again, as if the question wasn't worth its time, then stood and wandered off to examine a discarded toothpick nearby.
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Posted: Tue Nov 03, 2009 6:34 pm
dos & don'ts
october 28, 2009 "That's..."
"The box. The... prison? Yes, prison."
Astan chuckled. "No, well, I mean I guess, yeah, it's a prison for you. Normally I just throw my dirty clothes in there. I thought you guys would run away, so I had to improvise."
Rahk's lack of response plainly showed how stupid it thought that idea was. "What is that room?"
"Which one?" Ro tapped at Astan's ear and he passed it a small colorful rubber band which it used to tie off its most recently crafted braid.
"The room you emerged from after Ro and I escaped from the prison."
"Oh, that's the bathroom. Do you guys need the bathroom? Like, do you... expel waste and stuff?"
"I do not think so. We will let you know if that becomes necessary." Rahk turned from the tiled room and slowly made its way to the opposite corner of the living room. Astan watched. When it got within three feet of his drum kit, he held out a hand.
"No, no, no, no, no. Not that. Don't play around that. Both of you. I mean it." Ro tapped at Astan's ear, but instead of passing the Essentic another rubber band he reached up and lifted it from his shoulder, holding it to his chest with one forearm like a doll. "You've gotta hear this too. It's important." He ran his free finger over the edge of a cymbal, leaving a trail in the dust that covered it. "These are my drums. You've got to be careful around them. Don't kick them or chew on them or anything. They're very important to me."
They all remained silent for a time, but in a move that was becoming standard issue for the proto, Rahk was the one to break that silence.
"What do those things do?"
Astan smiled. "Maybe someday I'll show you." At this, Ro sighed a disappointed sigh that brushed Astan's wrist on the way out. "Fine, here," he said, a touch of affection in his voice. He placed Ro on the floor next to its sibling and reached around behind the drums, pulling a pair of drumsticks out of a depression in the back of the seat. They were old things, smooth and worn, and made of a strange dark wood that glistened in the dim light of the apartment. He sat on the carpet nearby and handed one stick to each proto.
"You can touch these. They were my first drumsticks. If you were allowed to touch the drums, you would use the sticks to play them. You still need to be careful with those though. Don't go hitting things or stabbing each other." He reached out to lay a hand on their shoulders, like one might do when they were trying to emphasize a point they were making to a child, but his hands sort of awkwardly enveloped the protos instead.
Rahk looked up at Astan and nodded. "Do not worry. We will take good care of them."
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Posted: Wed Nov 04, 2009 10:32 pm
work
october 29, 2009 "Hello? Hi, can I speak to... yeah, yeah Hannah, it's me." Astan picked at a bit of old, dried food that was crusted to the kitchen counter. He felt mildly guilty about lying to his boss, but he was sure he would feel even guiltier if he tried to take the protos to the hospital with him and they were caught.
"I've got some... well... not bad news necessarily," Astan said. "I, um, need to quit." The voice at the other end of the phone was silent for a time, then Hannah spoke. She cheerily assured him that everything was okay. She wished him luck and told him he had been a good employee and he would be missed. She said his last paycheck would be mailed within the week. Astan thanked her and hung up. He didn't believe her, but at least the ordeal had been mostly painless.
"You quit your job?" Rahk was awake. It had been napping next to Ro on the arm of Astan's old sofa. "What will you do?"
Astan shrugged. "Have one job? I used to, you know. I've got enough money to pay for things around here, don't worry."
Rahk didn't look worried. In fact, it didn't look as if it understood the importance of human jobs or money at all.
"I got a bunch of new jobs after I was fired so I wouldn't just be sitting around here alone," he explained. "Now I've got you guys to take care of." He flipped open his phone again. "Go back to sleep. I've got to call in sick again at the job I'm actually keeping."
Rahk looked as if it was contemplating Astan's words and then, without comment for a change, it lay back down and closed its odd eyes.
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Posted: Wed Nov 04, 2009 10:35 pm
halloween
october 31, 2009 "Children?"
Rahk and Ro sat on the windowsill in the living room, looking out at the people of Vargash as they scurried about in the light of dusk. Each of the protos held one of Astan's old drumsticks, and every so often they would smack them together in a clickety-clacking proxy high five. They weren't looking at each other or giving one another any sort of rhythmic signal that Astan could see, but they never failed to bring the sticks together at exactly the same moment every time. Astan chalked it up to some sort of creepy twin thing. Many of the adults outside looked frazzled, but the children, the ones who weren't masked, were nearly all ecstatic. It was Halloween and any kid worth his kidness was excited at the mere thought of dressing up like a ladybug or a firefighter and loading up on enough candy crap to eat for the rest of the year.
"Yeah, small people," Astan replied. "We come out small at first and then we grow. Like you. Kind of." He was ripping open economy-sized bags of candy and dumping them into plastic pumpkins in preparation for the onslaught. There were several families in the building, and they tended to invite all of their child's little friends to wander the halls, knocking on doors. Candy went fast.
"I know about children," Rahk said. "I had never seen one before now, that is all."
Ro leaned forward, transferring its weight to its knees and one of its hands before crawling all the way up to the glass. It tapped its drumstick on the closed window then pointed at a kid. It turned to Rahk and mimed pulling something out of a bag and eating it.
Rahk joined its sibling at the window. "Yes, what are the children eating? Are they eating these plastic packages you are preparing?"
"Yeah. Candy. Want some?"
"We want that candy." Rahk's eyes shone with curiosity, and Ro rose to its knees and smiled, nodding furiously.
"No. No, I can't take you out. Someone will see you and take you away."
"The children are in costumes..."
"You're a foot tall!"
Ro jumped to its feet at Astan's words. It placed its stick on the sill and motioned to Rahk, tapping its own shoulders then quickly dropping to its knees again.
"What are you..."
"Yes!"
Rahk scrambled over to Ro, settling its legs over its sibling's shoulders and grabbing Ro's antennae to steady itself. Ro rose to its feet.
"We are taller now!"
Astan chuckled, shaking his head and rubbing at the bridge of his nose. "Okay, fine. But we can't knock on doors in this building. And I have to find you a costume. You know... I think I've got something." original ghost twins idea provided by ladyumbra
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Posted: Wed Nov 04, 2009 10:36 pm
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Posted: Wed Nov 04, 2009 10:39 pm
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Posted: Tue Nov 17, 2009 11:12 am
contractions
november 6, 2009 "You smell like... the butt of a dog!" Rahk screamed. The proto was yanking on the door to one of the kitchen cabinets near the floor, quite obviously trying to extract its sibling from its hiding place. Astan thought he could just make out Ro's distinctive wheezing laughter coming from behind the door.
"What happened?" the man asked, succeeding in distracting Rahk from its destruction of the kitchen, at least temporarily.
"It stole my M and M," Rahk said haughtily. "It has its own and I do not feel like sharing right now."
Astan sighed. "You know what?" It might have seemed like a minor thing, but today, this instant, something he couldn't pinpoint had set him off. Astan was honestly sick of the only other being in the house who was able to speak doing so as if it was the king of some fantasy land. "I'll give you an entirely new bag of M&Ms if you come with me." He easily pulled open the door to the cabinet Ro was hiding in. "You too," he said, picking up the giggling proto.
Rahk sighed, looking alternatively excited at the prospect of more M&Ms and disappointed that Ro had to come along. Finally, it nodded, only to be picked up by Astan as well. He walked across the apartment and placed the pair on the coffee table, one of the only pieces of his parents' furniture that he had kept after moving out of his childhood home.
"Rahk. This is mostly for you."
"What did I..."
"But Ro..." The silent proto brightened at being addressed and Rahk seemed briefly pleased that it wasn't the only one getting a talking to. "This will come in handy for you too when I find the time to teach you how to write." Astan paused, unsure as to how to continue. "Okay. You know how I talk? How Misha talked? With the 'don't' and 'won't' instead of 'do not' and 'will not'?"
Ro nodded. Rahk crossed its arms.
"You sound... mean when you don't talk that way. Normal people don't need to say, like, every single word. It's why we invented talking like that."
For about thirty seconds no one said anything. Then, "I disagree. You sound stupid when you speak that way."
Astan huffed out a chuckle. "Fine. Do what you like. It was only a suggestion." He hefted himself off of the couch with a dramatic sigh and a stretch. "If you're going to turn into a person someday, people will just have to think you're even weirder than you are."
Ro laughed silently as Rahk stuck out its tongue at the back of Astan's head, sidestepping out of the way when he threw a mini bag of M&Ms onto the table.
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Posted: Tue Nov 17, 2009 11:13 am
five minutes 'til magic time
november 7, 2009 Rahk didn't really understand what was going on when it came to the spirals.
Moments after it had been born, huddled against Ro in a nest of fuzzy carpeting, it had realized that it held a certain kind of power. This power didn't have a real name that Rahk knew of, but it had been eager to use it right away. It had sensed the human's presence close, but when they had found him asleep, Rahk had not been content to simply sit and watch him as Ro had been. It was a good thing it had seen the machine. The alarm clock, as Rahk had come to call it. The spirals in the clock called out and what passed for Rahk's blood responded. The proto had unraveled the spirals and left the clock dead and lifeless.
It still felt sort of bad about that.
The thing was, it hadn't meant to break the clock. Like a curious child given a broken toaster to take apart, Rahk had simply wanted to see what was inside, how the spirals worked. It still didn't know. What it knew of the spirals it had learned from the clock, and that wasn't much at all. It now knew the concept of time, more intimately than most people did, and it knew what time it was all over Vargash at any given moment. It could display that time between its orange antennae, in a font and brightness comparable to the original clock. Rahk felt... guilty that the clock didn't know time anymore and that it couldn't display that time in its pretty blue numbers.
When Astan had finally gotten around to throwing the clock away, Rahk, with great effort, had rescued it from the trash.
Now the Essentic sat in the dark in the center of the living room, the clock upright and lifeless in front of it. Rahk was determined to give it back its time.
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Posted: Tue Nov 17, 2009 11:14 am
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Posted: Sat Dec 05, 2009 11:19 am
alone
november 13, 2009 Life was boring without Astan. Ro had never been more sure of anything in its two short weeks of life. The silent proto knew that Rahk felt the same, but its sibling would never say so. Rahk was devil's advocate, resistance, troublemaker. Its pride didn't allow it to admit it was lonely.
For the majority of the seven hours Astan was at work - his first night back at Forty-Five since the twins had arrived - Rahk had sat in front of the television, staring into its flickering depths. It felt like an expert on many subjects now, most notably being a police officer stranded on a mysterious island after an apocalypse. Ro had remained in the living room with its sibling, but instead of impatiently clicking at the remote, it spent its time practicing its reading. It had found the magazine its second night in the apartment and although it was kind of hard to figure out which of the neat black shapes went with the sounds Astan and Rahk made, Ro still felt it was making progress.
Hours passed, each of the twins in its own world. Eventually though, they tired. With a sigh, Ro slid its magazine back under the couch as Rahk turned off the TV and hefted the remote onto the coffee table. They met near the door, taking each other by the hand and sinking to a seated position on the rug in front of it.
This was how Astan found them, in a pile just inside the entrance to the apartment, so close at first that he accidentally nudged the door into them as he opened it.
Rahk stirred, then quickly rose to its feet as Astan closed and locked the door behind him. He didn't say anything, he just lifted the sleepy pair off of the floor, dropped his keys on the kitchen counter, and brought Rahk and Ro into his room.
"We must find a way to accompany you to your job," Rahk said around a yawn once the protos were settled on Astan's bed. Ro stretched and stood, nodding briefly before its face settled into slightly troubled lines. Clearly it had something to say that couldn't be conveyed by simple nods and hand gestures.
"Yeah," Astan said, sitting on the bed next to them. "I missed you guys too."
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Posted: Sat Dec 05, 2009 11:20 am
writing
november 19, 2009 Chester Cambridge's desk was large and cold. It was made of something Astan had called "marble or some s**t, I don't know" when Ro had asked about it. The proto remembered the day it had asked because it had done so with a pen and paper and preceding "marble or some s**t, I don't know," Ro had gotten a "Ro, you can write? Cool!"It was cool. The proto had gotten along fine with short games of charades and other hand and body signals up until now, but, like its sibling, sometimes it had a lot to say. Luckily, it hadn't needed to chime in on the subject of being left at home while Astan worked. It seemed he had felt the Essentics' unhappiness as keenly as they had. Now the pair spent weeknights wandering Forty-Five's back rooms, left to their own devices while the humans drank and danced. Rahk liked to climb through the vents and watch them, but Ro spent the majority of its time sprawled across Astan's boss' marble desk, painstakingly practicing its letters.
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