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 Posted: Tue Nov 24, 2009 12:34 pm
On the Left The cool air of early morning drifted through the assorted conifers in a light fog that made all the smells of the park nearly ten times more potent than they would have been under the noon day sun. Sneakers squeaked and pounded against the pavement in a steady rhythm, the sounds of joggers running and their words of, “on your left!” reverberating through the still air. Basil was no different. He ran with the best of them, blind to the faces and their confused glances, only hearing the thumping of feet and consumed by the need to keep going, to keep moving his legs in a runner’s frantic stride.
Sightless as he was, Basil didn’t need the hulking form of his retriever lopping and panting next to him like some primal thing. He could run alone just fine. Morning jogging was a solitary sport, meant for meditation of the mind and whatever it was that people wanted to scratch out from their thoughts. A stress reliever. That’s what running was.
Basil kept Molly by his side for this very reason. People didn’t like thinking when they ran, didn’t want their mind to stop and pause over the pathetic blind boy with his eyes glued shut making his way along the park pathways. Basil knew he was an interloper into the quiet, insane world of the park joggers. He knew it just as surely as he knew that his uncle was utterly mad. Might as well convince them all that he was as useless as he appeared. It made everyone more comfortable and what could be better than that even if they didn‘t understand?
Breathing was better the boy knew. Tens times better than being comfortable. Even if he lay dieing he would still be able to feel the rattle of his breath through the hallows of his chest. In a world of black he could still smell, touch, taste, all the things that were truly important. Sight was nothing, only something to deceive people with. Eyes saw what they wanted, believed what they wanted, making the world their own with their twisted understanding of what they thought seeing really was. They were all stupid. Basil saw for real and it was just dark. All of it, but it was good in a head in the bag type way.
Basil had to focus on his breathing now, forced himself to and not on the thoughts that threaten to choke him, making him blind for real as was normal. They didn’t matter. Nobody did. It was just him and his stupidly happy dog who didn’t care if he was blind or the ugliest ******** on the planet. He lived in black and secretly hated it, wishing for something more from unknown creatures that lived in the expanded dark too.
((A/N to myself: Basil's insight of the world in a more poetic type way.))
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Posted: Tue Dec 01, 2009 1:25 pm
The first growth prompt will be:
Quote: Your star is beginning to glow rather brightly, but all the same it's so easy to misplace! Maybe it's time it found a more permanent home in some kind of container. Explain where you found your jar, what it's made of and where you placed it after bottling the star. Raspberry Jam Raspberry preserve. That’s what was going to go perfectly on top of his biscuits. After biscuits, there would be chamomile tea and a little reading. This was a common ritual for Basil in the afternoons. Waking up as early as he did, he found that he grew a little fatigue during the middle of the day, so it was nice to just kick back and relax. However, the only problem was, there was no jam.
Growling under his breath, Basil rummaged around in the pantry in search of the cool feel of the glass jar. Nothing. Only empty air and a few nameless cans met the tips of his fingers. Agitation growing, the teen began to tear about the kitchen. On the counter, sitting in an empty fishbowl, the piece of space junk blinked steadily and jingled quietly.
“Shut up you!” The teen snapped at the thing, which was insane. “If you can’t offer something constructive, then please don’t say anything. ********>!” He snarled, jamming his toe against the ice box. He really needed to stop talking to inanimate objects.
“What’s doin’ in here.” Forney asked, padding into the kitchen. His words kind of smacked together and Basil’s nose flared, taking the in scent of raspberry.
“Forney.” He grated, blindly looking in the male’s direction. “What’s in your hand?” Perhaps sensing his impending doom, the redhead remained silent, giving a little gulp. “FORNEY!” Basil shouted now. “If that is what I think it is I’m going to kill you.”
“I was coming to wash out the jar!” The chef whined, licking his fingers. “There was only a spoonful left anyways.”
“That was my spoonful Forney!” Basil railed as he held out his hand imperiously. “Give it here.” The jar was reluctantly handed over and Forney ran from the kitchen as quickly as possible. Still growling under his breath as he listened to the man escape, Basil ran a finger inside the jar. Nothing. Not a single drop left.
Making a sound not fit for a cultured teenage boy, Basil stumbled over to the sink and angrily washed the jar out. He did this until his angered cooled. He was still upset with Forney, but there were other jams to be had. Sighing, the jar was dried, but before the top could be put on, the star in the fishbowl jingled.
Rounding on the thing, ready to yell again, Basil paused. He held up the jar as if looking at it, a thoughtful look crossing his face. The star would be quieter if there was a cap on whatever it stayed in. Smiling all too sweetly, Basil reached into the fishbowl, grabbing the pulsing star and dropping it into the jam jar. “There.” He murmured. “Welcome to your new home.” Happily, he capped the jar and set the thing in the window above the sink.
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Posted: Tue Dec 01, 2009 2:44 pm
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Posted: Wed Dec 23, 2009 7:06 pm
All These Voices Around the time that Basil had put his little star into the raspberry jam jar, the thing started to glow rather brightly. Of course he couldn’t see this brightly glowing light, having been told by both Forney and his housekeeper, Young Ju, the moment the twinkling started. So, for some reason he couldn’t explain, Basil took to carrying the jam jar around everywhere he went. It was rather strange to see him fussing over the jar like it was some kind of teddy bear, but there it was. After his meeting with Piaotte, Basil started treating his star like it was something that was alive with feelings that could be hurt or brightened.
Today was no different, while he was in the garden working his little star was there and when he sat in the living room reading, his star was there with him too. That night, jar in hand and book in the other, Basil settled down in his bed happily, the star going on his nightstand. However, the moment the jar hit the table, the star inside began jingling like mad and Basil had to cover his ear to shield them from the piercing sound. Immediately he picked the jar back up and gave it a little shake, something he hadn’t done for a long time. When the star didn’t stop its noise making, Basil sighed in agitation.
“What do you want you silly thing? Could you kindly be quiet so I can read?” That, obviously, didn’t work either. Basil groped for an idea to appease the little star and when nothing came to mind, he just scowled. That is, until the words, “write it down,” drifted through his mind. The voice was light and rather cute sounding and disappeared as soon as it had come, making Basil shake his head in confusion.
However, wanting to try anything that would quiet all that nasty jingling, Basil followed the advice and wrote down the first thing that came to mind:
“I wish for a light in this darkness” was the thing he had scribbled down, remembering he had thought the very same thing weeks ago before Forney had ever given him the little star. Being rather poetic, Basil thought the words to be a bit romantic. Smiling slightly, he stuck the piece of paper on the jar with a bit of tape. The reaction was instantaneous. Silence filled the room and the little star pulsed happily at an oblivious Basil.
“Thank God.” He huffed, setting the jar back in its place and snuggling down to read his book. The strange voice was all but forgotten as he lost himself in his reading, the entire ordeal like a dream to him when the morning came the next day.
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Posted: Tue Dec 29, 2009 2:55 pm
Thoughts Over Cake “So why did you give this little star anyhow? I should think you would have tried to sell it.” Basil was sitting on the back porch with Forney, test tasting the man’s latest pastry recipes. The current one was strawberry mousse with some kind of tangy chocolate sauce. The teen couldn’t help but to ask about the star, currently jingling happily in its bottle as it acted as a center piece for the table. He wasn’t sure why Forney hadn’t kept it himself.
“I don’t know.” The patisserie shrugged, pushing another concoction towards Basil. “It just seemed…the right thing to do. That and I needed to give you something after I begged you to let me live here.” Basil snorted at Forney’s drama, blind to the cheeky grin the redhead gave him.
“Indeed.” The teen shook his head, blindly fingering the top of the stars jar thoughtfully. He wasn’t sure what the thing was about or why Forney had really given it to him. Already the “wish” he had taped to the bottle was beginning to tear around the edges because he had been handling it so much. Basil refused to let the star out of his sight now, perhaps waiting for that warm voice to fill his head once again. Thinking back on that night, he had to admit that the entire event had been strange. However, he couldn’t help but ache to hear that voice again, now that he was more aware. He didn’t know why, but the voice felt like a friend. Someone who cared about him.
Basil sighed, it was all nonsense really, but he couldn’t help but…hope. “I like the strawberry the best.” The teen announced, pushing the aforementioned cake towards Forney, getting up and leaving to the kitchen, but not before grabbing his star. 
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Posted: Thu Dec 31, 2009 5:18 pm
Mail It was a rather gloomy day at the moment and Basil found himself bored because of it. His star seemed to be sleeping and he wasn't able to go outside and enjoy the sunshine and neither was Molly. The retriever was growing slightly restless, in turn making her master restless. So, thinking to ease both of their jitters, Basil grabbed his coat and umbrella, deciding to take Molly for a walk to the mail box.
The box was at the end of the rather sizable drive, so it was a good enough walk since they wouldn't be out long enough to get too drenched or muddy. Besides, Basil was sure the mail would brighten his spirits since he enjoyed going through the envelopes.
Humming under his breath, the teen and dog trooped outside into the drizzly rain and down the muddy drive towards the mail box. Basil flicked the little red flag down, opening the tiny metal door, and pulling out a handful of envelopes. There was also a smaller envelope within the bundle, that felt a little more thick than the others. Basil gulped, knowing what the letter was and not liking it one bit.
Sighing, his mood dropping further into a depression, Basil slowly made his way back to the house with help of Molly, shuddering all the way. The teen left the letter from his father sitting on the table, much to afraid to open it.
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Posted: Sat Jan 02, 2010 1:54 pm
Despite gaining the friendship of Piaotte, Basil has been feeling depressed lately. In a moody fit he is about to discard the bottled star, but it begins to glow brightly!
Why is Basil sad and what happens to the bottle?
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Posted: Sat Jan 02, 2010 8:30 pm
It Takes Two to Whisper Quietly Basil sat at the table in his study, staring blindly at the paper that was shaking lightly because he couldn’t seem to still his grip. He had read it nearly ten times before the raised words of Braille began to sink into the pads of his fingers. Father wasn’t coming. Of course, this should have come as no surprise to the teen, and yet, he was swallowing convulsively and trying to ignore the sting in the back of his nose. He should have known. There was no point in ever getting his spirits up when his father made promises. However, here he was, trying not to cry over a rejection letter that made work out to be more important than him. It was a “big job,” and he “couldn’t make it“. Of course. No surprise at all. Not even a little.
Lower lip trembling, the teen bit it fiercely to stop the movement. Basil’s star sat in the middle of the table, confused over his friend’s sudden show of emotion. Eppi pulsed softly, trying to get the boy’s attention, but failing since Basil’s invisible gaze was still fixed on the letter. Wanting to offer comfort in any way he could, the star peeped quietly only to be taken aback when Basil choked out a dry sob.
“Shut up.” He hissed to the star, hitting the jar with the back of his hand and tipping it over. “Just shut up.” Basil’s voice was reedy and shook with every word he spoke. It was then the tears started to flow freely, dampening the piece of high quality note paper he had let flutter to the table top. “I hate you.” He mumbled at Eppi who was now ringing in alarm at the tears. “It’s all your fault.” If only he hadn’t started to…hope, then maybe he wouldn’t be sitting here crying now. Things had been going so well lately. He had found a strange companion in the star and had even made friends with real people. Why did this have to happen now?
At the thought of Piaotte, Basil cried harder, suddenly wishing he hadn’t met the girl or the star. He ignored his star’s attempts to get his attention by ringing shrilly, simply weeping into his hands like a child. “Shut you.” Basil managed to rasp again, nerves growing more and more frayed with every tear that fell.
Eppi wouldn’t shut up though, suddenly bouncing in his jar, blinking brightly in a multicolored light. The jar started to glow as it heated up from the star’s pulsing light, but Basil was unaware of this growing heat, too irritated at the hopelessness that was stirring through him. However, the star’s ringing was starting to make his ears bleed and Basli ground his teeth in annoyance.
“I said SHUT UP!” He practically screamed as he stood, suddenly reaching for a jar that he didn’t know was hot. He wanted the star as far away from him as possible. It was the stupid thing’s fault anyhow! As Basil’s fingers wrapped around the smooth, heated glass, he cried out, flinging it away from himself in reflex as searing pain traveled up his arm. The jam jar shattered to the floor, sending glass and star dust flying everywhere, leaving poor Eppi to simply sit on the floor pulsing sadly, knowing that something was going to happen and hoping that Basil was ready for it.
Panting in pain, for Basil’s hand was cherry red, already blistering, he stumbled to the spot where Eppi sat. The teen didn’t know what he had done, but instantly regretted it, his stomach twisting into knots.
“I’m sorry.” He whispered, dropping to his knees, crying all over again. “I didn’t…mean too.” Blindly, he searched with his good hand through the debris. When he couldn’t find the little lump that was the star, he grew frantic, finally hunching over and breaking down completely when he felt the star was surely lost. However, the star was not lost, only changed beyond recognition, though his spirit remained the same.
“Basil?” Came a tiny, delicate voice full of love. The voice of a child, followed by the touch of a cool child’s hand to the teen’s burned one.
“What?” Basil murmured in confusion.
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Posted: Sat Jan 02, 2010 8:41 pm
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Posted: Sun Jan 24, 2010 3:53 pm
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