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 Posted: Tue Nov 03, 2009 6:05 pm
______o1 : It Suddenly Hit Me [ journal ]
______o2 : Afternoon at the Museum [ PRP ]
______o3 : Knockin' Off [ journal ]
______o4 : Cast On, Cast O- [ PRP ]
______o5 : Topsy Turvy [ growth quest ]
______o6 : Response : Topsy Turvy [ journal ]
______o7 : What's This?! [ journal ]
______o8 : Perhaps, One Day . . . [ journal ]
______o9 : Heavy Conversation & Colorful Commentary [ PRP ]
______1o : Weighting is Gross [ PRP ]
______11 : Bouncing off the Ceiling [ journal ]
______12 : Moving mountains.. [ PRP ]
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Posted: Tue Nov 03, 2009 8:45 pm
It was in this way that the brunt of the morning shift had passed him by, noon now approaching and with it the lunch period he sort of dreaded when he didn't remember to pack his lunch. Today happened to be such an occasion, the offending item sitting on his table at home ready to be brought in, but since his stomach wasn't producing its usual rumbles of protest for nourishment he figured he could skip it for now and eat when he got home. It was save him money from eating out and save him from having to make dinner later - a double score and a prevention of wasting time.
So happily lost in his thoughts was Jarett that he didn't notice his boss come in until a voice over his shoulder startled him, nearly knocking him into the shelf he'd been working on tagging all day. There was only the top most shelf left to do, and it appeared as though his boss wanted him to hurry and go home, they would be closing early.
Just tag what you can and leave the rest for tomorrow. There is a group coming in tonight to try and get rid of that pest problem we've been having down here, and they say that no one should be around when they start working.
Or so he'd been told.
If you can't reach a stopping point just go ahead and go now and worry about it later. It's not like we're putting any of this out right away, so no need to push yourself too hard over it.
After this boss departed Jarett sighed and ran a finger through his hair, musing as he pulled it a bit forward that his roots were getting lighter. He'd have to dye it again to keep that uniform black look that all the others had seen him with since the time he started or, for those who joined after him, from when they started. Either way it needed dyed and since he was getting home early he could do it then without having to waste any time or candles to keep things lit.
That thought made him happy as he reached to move and get several items from the top shelf, his goal for the day to clear at least one of the racks of items before the end of the day, when his hand touched something unfamiliar. It caused him to purse his lips for a moment, eyebrows bent, as the tips of his fingers continued to assault this foreign feeling.
Jarett probably shouldn't have been reaching up and into a place he could barely see, his little grabs at the item making it move forward, so after a moment or two more he paused before turning to find a step stool. There was one located behind him and he grabbed it quickly before turning back with it, only to see from the corner of his eye something black and falling.
"HOLY WHAT WAS THAT? WHAT THE - IT- GA-"
Jarett staggered back, his hand on his forehead where the falling object had struck him squarely on the temple. He was honestly surprised that he was still standing, his vision swimming with different hues of white mixed with muted colors, and his knees threatened to give out beneath him. His ears were roaring with a phantom sound as the pressure tried to balance itself again in his head, and for a moment or two Jarett stayed swaying and silent. Whatever had hit him made sure to do it quite hard, and seeing as he heard something that sounded like glass or metal contact with the floor and not shatter he knew it had to be fairly close.
The source of the pain and bruise that now throbbed on his face looked to be a bottle, one he found after searching beneath some of the shelves and his working desk. It was large and rather light, hard to believe since it hit him with enough force to still make him woozy, and as Jarett shifted the bottle in his hands he couldn't help but marvel at the contents. Was that dust in there? If so, how had it come to be sealed like this, placed in his dark office? It wasn't covered with dust like the rest of the items, instead looking brand new, and as his fingers ran over its surface a strange feeling dawned on him. A chill up the spine more than anything, followed by the urgent need to speak with the boss.
He slowly crept from his office and up the stairs to where the curator resided, his eyes squinting against the light change that blared down upon him. While electric lights weren't common place in much of Jarett's daily living the museum seemed to be in possession, which the young man found to be odd considering it seemed to out of place. Granted keeping the area lit up with candles or torches would probably make everything smell like smoke, but he'd be damned if it wouldn't look cooler and more appropriate.
A simple knock on the office door and a reply from the person inside let Jarett start his little game of asking questions, the bottle quickly produced from his hands and set on the desk. There we a moment of silence before the curator spoke.
It's not part of the exhibit, you can do with it as you please.
Which translated clearly to 'get rid of it, we can't use it'. The boss showed little to no interest in the item, instead keeping his focus on the goose egg that was slowly sprouting from atop Jarett's temple, the skin already fading from its enraged red to a more humorously hued bruise.
...did you hit your head on something? You need to get some rest, sleep it off.
Ill-advised health tip aside, Jarett was now in possession of the bottle. He could always return it to the basement and leave it there to do whatever glass did over periods of time (dust), but for some reason the coloring of it and its shape kept his attention from drifting to far from the possibility of him taking it home.
But what use would it provide to him? He wasn't an avid collector of bottles or anything, his shelves at filled only with books and the occasional clock. A bottle might like a smidgen out of place in his residence, but did that mean he should leave it here at work? No one came down to his office, so the possibility of it being stolen was very slim, but what would he use it for?
A door stop? No, he'd probably trip over it.
Just stick it on a shelf again? Bad idea. What if it fell again?
Jarett wasn't sure how many blows a person could take the to head before severe and irreversible damage occurred, so it was better to play it safe. That left him with only one option as a location, smack dab in the center of his file-littered desk.
". . .I can use this as a paperweight, right?"
Right.
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Posted: Fri Nov 20, 2009 3:55 pm
[ afternoon at the museum ]
tbk . . .
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Posted: Fri Nov 20, 2009 3:56 pm
". . . . ."
He was rather speechless over the turn of events, his mind tossing back to how began earlier that morning. Things had seemed so normal then. . .
I don't mind you bringing that bottle in with yo so long as it doesn't distract you from your work. Is it something of a good luck charm?
Jarett had lied and told his boss it was, hoping that his little bottle could just stay in his bag and out of sight. He couldn't leave the thing at home for some reason, he always returned from work to find it on the floor or not where he'd left it, and to ensure that it didn't do anything stupid he brought it along. When his shift was over and the bag brought home with him, the day uneventful, he pulled the little bottle out and looked it over. It appeared the same as always, nothing special, so he moved into his kitchen for better light. He lit a candle and held the bottle close to its flame, to try and light up the insides for a better peek.
For a moment it seemed as though nothing would happen, the bottle still in his hands, when suddenly it increased in weight. Unable to hold it any longer the man felt it drop from his grasp and onto his foot, pain shooting up as quickly as the bottle had fallen. He covered his mouth with his hand, biting his lip as well to block out the scream, and with a stagger or two he managed to back up and gain his balance.
The bottle lay where it had when his thoughts came back, still stuck in the tile, and with a look of confusion and anger on his face Jarett hobbled over and tried to pull it out with one hand. It didn't even budge, the tile around it falling away from the effort, and with a groan the man bent to use two hands for more force. As he pulled this time the bottle freed itself and shot into the air . . . though it didn't come back down. Instead it hovered near Jarett's face, seemingly so pleased with itself, and continued to do so for a few moments.
In his own defense Jarett was taking this all quite well, pretty sure he was now in a stage of shock and this was all a hallucination produced by that condition, his mind telling him what he was seeing could not at all be real. Bottles did not suddenly change their mass from tons to less then an ounce (how could something float?!), and he must have stubbed his foot on something when the bottle dropped in order for it to have been broken. And as for it floating? It was probably sitting on a shelf nearby that he couldn't see for some reason or another, playing tricks all the while on his eyes since his brain was out of sorts.
Gingerly taking a few steps towards the bottle, to see if it was his imagination or not, Jarett had to quickly step back as the bottle plummeted downward again, leaving another bottle-sized crater on the kitchen floor. Before the man could react it was back in the air, floating with unknown force.
" . . . . . ."
By now he was feeling nauseous along and afraid, mostly nauseous though, and he stumbled out past the bottle and into the living room, wanting to sit in a chair and hopefully calm down enough for it all to make sense. The bottle seemed to let him pass, content on repeating its free fall cycle of smashing into the floor. There would be several small craters there when Jarett was finally able to check in the morning, and he'd certainly would have interesting phone call with his landlord. Jarett wasn't too good at making up lies, but he certainly was going to get better if he wanted his kitchen floor fixed.
Meanwhile as he sat the pain in his foot returned, the fear from the unknown wearing off and letting his body actually experience proper feelings, and Jarett knew it would probably be in his best interests to go and get it checked out. If it was a mild case of 'got banged on' then he'd be fine, take some pain pills and go home, but if it foot really was broken like he thought it might be and was pretty certain...then he didn't know what to do past then. Inside the kitchen the bottle had stopped doing whatever it was doing (was it tired?) and had somehow rolled out close to where Jarett was, sending shivers up and down the man's spine.
"I suppose I have no choice but to bring you along."
He spoke to the bottle as if it had thoughts and feelings, or could understand him at all, but as he did the black object seemed to...respond better. He was able to lift it easily off the ground and stick it into his pack, settling things on his back before he went out the door. It was only when he got outside and into the fading sun did he realize things would be difficult from now on, the bottle not content to just stay in one place . . . .
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Posted: Thu Dec 03, 2009 6:01 pm
summary :
The Bottle breaks Jarett's foot
Jarett somehow makes it to a hospital
Introduced to Cadaver, a being oddly similar to the Ziya from before
Grumpy doctor introduced by the name of Marijus
The Bottle shows off, leaving craters on the floor
Jarett is admitted overnight to have his foot set
personal thoughts : I went to the hospital this evening, thanks in part to not being able to feel anything in my entire left leg. That cursed bottle is to blame for all of this, and I'm starting to question my sanity on how well I can deal with everything.
My left foot is broken, the bottle is damaging the hospital floors. I don't know how much more I can stand of this before I throw the blasted thing into a well or river, just to be rid of it.
. . . though with my luck it'll probably come back to haunt me. I should never have taken this from the museum, it's like my life is only going downhill from here. Am I cursed?
It somehow even tricked me into naming it, calling it "Rindou". This isn't ending well, I would like a restart for my time.
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Posted: Fri Jan 01, 2010 12:58 pm
Topsy Turvy!
(Dust Spin --> Child Quest*)
While floating around and avoiding Jarret, the monochrome bottle managed to find its way into something quite devastating to its delicate sensibilities; color. Something old, worn, but still bright and full of varying shades, the poor bottle didn’t know what to do! In its confusion, gravity seems to be just as confused as the bottle controlling it; heavy things are floating to the ceiling like helium filled balloons while light weight things like napkins and towels and stuck to the floor in large craters. Nothing is right any more and the gravity bottle has found itself in an even worse predicament: it’s stuck! Trapped on the ceiling by various pieces of furniture, the bottle may be crushed by the confused weight of its own fear. What will Jarret do when he comes home to find this?
*Please note, there's a minimum word requirement of 500 words for this quest.
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Posted: Fri Jan 01, 2010 4:22 pm
A few of them remarked at how he didn't have his trademark bottle with him, which was a pity. Quite a number of ladies thought it was pretty and wanted to see more of it, but Jarett had told them all the bottle was at home where it belonged and would probably no longer travel with him to work. There were some sighs of disappointment before he was finally left alone, leaving him to spend the rest of his day in peace.
When he left the office at the end of the day he was given a gift, a bouquet in a bright yellow vase, leaving the young man to only smile and polity thank everyone as he thought of tossing it all into the trash upon getting home. They were vividly red roses, the kind you would see a man giving his beloved, not the kind that would be given to a guy on crutches by a bunch of elder women (and a few men).
It had taken him longer then he wanted to reach his destination, but when he finally made it inside his home and set the flowers down on the counter. . . he noticed something was odd. The bottle was quite absent.
Not that he really minded, considering all the grief the blasted object had been giving him as of late. It had broken his foot, putting him in a cast for who knows how long, and had even somehow conned him into giving it a name. It was odd how easily he'd called the thing 'Rindou' when pressed for it, the meaning of bellflowers almost suiting the strange object. The white blossoms and dark steams of the plant were almost exact in the bottle's hues, so it wasn't that much of a mistake. But still, for it to not be around? Perhaps it was feeling regret for injuring him?
That thought was amusing.
The next day at work proceeded the same way, the bottle left at home and the people asking him about it, so when the bells let the man know it was time to depart Jarett made his way to his abode much quicker this time...only to walk into a scene of horror. Objects everywhere, his furniture pressed against the ceiling like he ad entered some form of Wonderland. The flower vase he had left on the counter was smashed and sticking to the floor as if it weighed more than anything else in the room, the pretty roses shredded and their lovely petals crushing little craters into the ground as well.
At first Jarett was to stunned to even think of anything, the crutches almost falling from his sides as his grip relaxed in pure disbelief, though after a moment or two of staring with jaw slack the man tried to pinpoint the cause of all of this. It had to have been that blasted bottle, the creature inside (?) finally doing something to the world around it once it couldn't hurt Jarett anymore. Leaving it at home or putting it in the closet had acted like a charm, though with all this property damage swirling around him Jarett wondered if he'd done the right thing.
What could have set this all off? Where was that stupid bottle?!
He hobbled inward, the crutches dropped as his pace moved from the slow walk to a mixture of leg-dragging and jumping, Jarett's eyes scanning the ground and the ceiling for tell-tale signs of the offender. He couldn't locate it on his first sweep over, though as he reached a certain spot on the floor (avoiding the objects that seemed to be falling like missiles) he thought he felt a change.
A shift in the Gravity, per se.
Jarett lifted his gaze just in time to see a fraction of sunlight reflect off a glassy surface - presumably a bottle - and it gave him the location of what he sought. The bottle was hidden beneath one of his chairs, correction - it was being crushed beneath part of the chair - and it was well out of his reach against part of the ceiling. Never before had Jarett been glad that his ceilings weren't that tall, he could easily get to the object if he stood on a chair...only there wasn't a chair for him to stand on. Jarett's brows furled themselves downward as he tried to think how to get the bottle down when the sound of a crack came over the silence that had been filling the air.
. . . .was the bottle. . .breaking? Did the chair really weigh that much? Was the glass really that fragile?
Would the thing inside . . . be okay?
It was odd that Jarett felt a sliver of worry run up his spine like a mini-sprinter, his brain telling him that now was the time to try and get the object down. He still had the option of trying to bat things away, his crutches probably useful in that regard, but he didn't think with any amount of upper body strength would he be able to dislodge the chair that was crushing the bottle. He was going to have to do something, there wasn't much time.
Fortunately it seemed that after a while he realized that he was being unaffected by whatever gravity had warped the room, perhaps it was because he'd been out while it all occurred, so an idea came to him that he should just...try to pull the chair down. If he jumped high enough he could snag an arm, and with his weight there was a chance that he could at least lift the chair up enough for the bottle to wriggle itself free and come tumbling down - maybe even bringing the rest of the objects down with it.
There was no time for second guessing, there was no time for a second chance. He'd have to make it on the first jump and, gritting his teeth against the pressure in his leg as he bent down, Jarett pressed up and extended his hands towards one of the arms of the chair. His fingers barely graced it as he sailed up, though when he came back down he was pleased to find that he had a firm hold and could easily pull it back down with him . . . were he not suspended in the air as well. His plan had worked half-way, he'd gotten the chair, but it seemed as though the force holding it in place was stronger than he was.
This wasn't going to make him give up. He was going to get that bottle loose, he was going to get his furniture back on the floor, and blast it all when this was over he was going to drink himself into a slight stupor - and he hated drinking. With a grunt of determination he swung and pulled himself downward, moving the chair ever so slightly. It gave a slight groan under the strain of being pulled two ways but it let its leg up, allowing the bottle to come free. The object floated in midair for a second before it looked to take a plunge again, though this time Jarett refused to let it create another hole on the floor. He swung himself over and grabbed it with his knees, the bottle suddenly heavy in his legs, and the man found himself quickly on the ground hurting a bit more than he wanted to.
Jarett barely had enough time to react and roll into a ball as the objects on the ceiling came crashing down, the tables and chairs he found himself proud over now breaking and splintering against the floor. The daily objects that had been creating holes in the ground now seemed to lay there idly, their weight nothing that couldn't be blown away by the billows caused by a falling coffee table.
When the dust cleared and Jarett was finally able to see, his jaw dropped again at the sight of the ruins that surrounded him. Almost everything he owned had been totaled, the floor and ceiling included in that group, but it appeared as though he was uninjured when anything had fallen. Instead he would be sore from the impact, and from squeezing a hard object between his knees so much his bones ached.
". . . . "
He reached down and fished the bottle out from between his legs, the little item housing such a slight crack that it looked almost no worse for the wear. With another glance at it, and several sighs for the area around him, Jarett placed a hand on his temple and slowly rubbed it with two fingers. If this thing inside happened to be a child who could do this - what would happen to him? Would he survive it all?
No, would his house survive it all? That thought, it made him pale in his stomach. Tomorrow he would have to not show up for work, he would have to notify someone about getting this all cleaned up. New furniture would have to be bought, and possibly nailed into the ground when everything was said and done. Jarett wasn't the type to halfheartedly think of something - he knew he would have to gravity proof his house.
But first . . . .
". . . . .how am I going to explain all this to the landlord?"
music theme : " topsy turvy" by disney's hunchback of notre dame
Word Count: 1,626
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Posted: Sun Jan 10, 2010 12:44 pm
Furniture had come early that afternoon, new tables and chairs to replace all that the little bottle had wonderfully destroyed during its latest fit, and Jarett huffed as he moved a chair into the spot where its predecessor had met an unfortunate end. He was lucky to have gotten permission to replace everything, the floor tiles in the kitchen slated to be relaid within a fortnight, and as Jarett took a breather he thought about the day before and what all had happened.
His conference with the landlord had been rather interesting, meaning he'd told the flat out truth half expecting to get laughed at and told to check into a hospital. Instead the man on the seemed to understand what was going on and told Jarett to just replace it with his own money, forgoing the rent for a few months, and the conversation had ended there. The young man was stunned enough to just stand around for a few hours, cleaning up here and there as his crutches would allow in terms of movement, though when the sun started to creep past the horizon and night had set in he fancied himself off to bed with plans for the next day.
Jarett wasn't sure what time it was, only that it was dark and there was something inside. He'd been awakened by the sound of something hitting against a wall. Not a dull thumb, like a tree branch against the house or boards settling, but more like an impact that may or may not have left a dent in something. He got out of his bed, the crutches not needed since they'd be more of a problem in the dark than any actually help, and the man slowly hobbled his way into the living area that the sound seemed to originate from. He was a bit unnerved to find that there was nothing against the walls or on the floor, he half expected to see the Bottle where it normally rested itself for the evening, but nothing could be found.
Which...also reminded him. He hadn't seen the bottle all day, in fact he'd barely seen it since the incident a week ago. Normally the blasted thing would always be at his side, bumping into his ankles or crashing into his face. Every now and then it would settle and only sit on his lap while he read a book, but with everything leading up to know it actually made the man feel uneasy to not know where the thing was. With a decision to look for it in the morning, Jarett started to go back to his room . . .only to have something catch his eye.
There was something on the ceiling or, to be more specific, something pressed in a corner on the ceiling. It was way too large to be some kind of animal, lord knows bats didn't have what appeared to be four separate limbs. This creature didn't have any wings as far as the moonlight was allowing to show and, Jarett came to blush, it had no fur and was not in possession of clothing either. He couldn't see much of its face, be the creature humanoid to have enough of one, and Jarett quickly hobbled his way over towards where one of his candles lay. There was a thin hiss as the candle lit, its pale light aiding the moon with illumination, and more of the odd figure against the ceiling was allowed into view.
It was indeed humanoid judging from the way its body was presented, also clearly male and in need of clothing, and it stared straight down at him from where it stood positioned in the corner. Its arms and legs weren't entirely splayed outward, more like it was supporting itself against the ceiling with its touch, and as Jarett raised the candle to get a better view the figure let out a small cry and curled inward away. It stayed in its spot, Jarett now surprised that it didn't need to be holding on to anything in order to stay aloft, and as the figure seemed to shrink more away from the flame that was being held close Jarett couldn't help but notice the shade of its skin. A beautiful gray covered every spot on his body, save for where pure white hair decorated the top of his head. Jarett could not see its eyes, for its hands covered them as if protection was of the highest priority.
". . . Rindou?"
Jarett didn't want to believe that this gray-skinned child could have come from that annoying bottle, that his fear of having something that he would have issues taking care off could possibly appear before him. He only said the name in great hesitance, hoping that whatever this thing was it wouldn't understand, though as the last syllable rolled from his mouth the white haired head lifted itself from its curled position, the whole face turning to look at the man with wonder.
". . . You are Rindou, aren't you?"
It would make sense, what with the child being on the ceiling and that having been a favorite spot of the bottle in recent times. Jarett's heart felt heavy with ideas of the future damages that would be coming his way, no idea in his mind what this thing would be capable of. If as a bottle it could decimate a good bit of his furniture, break his foot and crack tiles, then what would it be able to do now that it had hands and feet? The possibilities were endless, and also terrifying.
The creature seemed to understand more of what he was saying, its face morphing into a look of happiness mixed with fear, and as it uncurled itself more Jarett was pretty sure he caught sight of two small wings sticking from its back. Not only did this have odd skin, it had wings - another sign it was not human and probably could never pass as such. But that didn't matter right now, all that mattered was the thing on the ceiling was now launching itself into Jarett's arms.
He half-expected to get knocked down, or at least pushed back, but this 'Rindou' seemed to weigh nothing at all and effortlessly found his way into Jarett's embrace. The man could only look down at the quivering frame, cold against the night air, and he shook his head a few more times. This would all be all right in the morning . . . .right? A dream, right?
Wrong.
The next morning came too early considering the activities of the night before, and as Jarett rolled over he was mildly surprised to feel the weight and warmth of another body in his bed. He slowly opened his eyes to see the 'Rindou' from the night before sleeping away, the little boy's hands pressed against Jarett's chest in a manner that seemed to suggest he felt safer that way. The breathing sounds were soft, almost a little snoring hum, and the creature murmured something in its sleep as he pulled closer to Jarett's frame. Jarett himself could only sigh again (something that was sadly becoming a habit), and he placed a hand on the mass of white hair.
"That...wasn't a dream. You're really real. . . and I'm in big trouble."
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Posted: Sun Jan 10, 2010 1:11 pm
He had only been free for a few days, the Bottle form he had clung to for so long forgotten swiftly from his head, so the young boy had taken it upon himself to now venture about once again. The memories he had from the bottle stage were quickly fading with time, soon to be completely gone, so everything that Rindou experienced from this point out seemed completely brand new. Of course exploring the home now that he could climb and crawl was a high priority, even more so since Jarett didn't seem to have anything locked. Cabinets had free access, so did many of the closets in the different rooms, and it appeared that Rindou would have no trouble find out anything and everything he wanted to know.
After a while he'd grown bored of the simple exploring route of using the floor, his bare feet making silly sounds on the tile as he jumped up and down on them in an effort to see what they were made of. Jarett had told him once before that he'd cracked them several times over but he couldn't recall ever having done that. They certainly were solid now beneath his weight and didn't even move an inch as he jumped higher and higher, eventually stopping when his legs grew tired and he wanted to try something else.
He settled on jumping from piece of furniture to piece of furniture, the fear of knocking anything over long erased thanks in part to the legs being nailed down. He could effortlessly launch himself from one chair to another and let his whole body weight collide with the couch or chair back, the foundation only moving slightly enough to groan against the heavy nails. This was a far more exhilarating rush them simply climbing into places, Rindou enjoying the feeling of air against his skin as he launched himself, and soon he turned his sights from the objects on the floor to those that reached towards the ceiling. The bookcases had been nailed at their bases at and their backs leaving no room for tipping, and as Rindou scaled up the side of one he giggled at wonder of how everything would feel as he tumbled down and landed on cushions. He was able to complete his little test at least three times . . .
. . . when on the fourth he turned his body too much and his face came into heavy contact with the floor. There was a sickening thud that made him wonder if he'd broken his skull, and Rindou sat up dazed for a moment or two. There was a warmth running frown his nose over his lips and chin, dropping down onto his hands, and he licked away some of it with his tongue. When it still continued despite his best efforts to catch it all he raised his hands up . . . only to recoil in horror at what he saw. He let out a loud scream as he shook his hands and face, trying to make it all go away. It didn't, and his heart raced in his chest as he opened his eyes once again.
It...it was everywhere. The walls, his hands and his chest, the floor and the furniture. The vivid red spread quickly over his clothes as more flowed freely from his nose and into his mouth, the excess being spit out onto the ground in a free spray that only coated more surface with the rich color. He tried to wipe it from his hands onto anything that was near him in an effort to at least rid if from his body, but no matter how many times or how many surfaces his hands came in contact with the red still spread. He staggered out of the room in an effort to get rid of the sight, his hands under his nose in an effort to stop the still running blood, though with each step he took he left behind a little red breadcrumb that followed him to and fro. He moved himself into the bedroom he was currently sharing with Jarett, the man not having had time to go out and purchase a proper bedroom set, and in a frenzy Rindou looked left and right in an effort to find anything that could possibly get this all to stop. His breathing only grew more raggid as more fear clutched at his chest, tears stinging his eyes with threats to fall with each passing step he took.
He was determined to get to the place of water that he'd been in before, the one that Jarett had put him in after remarking that he 'reeked like something deceased', since Rindou believed it could wash off all of the horrible red that tainted his dark skin. His walking pace had turned into a little trot that carried him into the bathroom. . . . where his heart nearly stopped inside his chest. There were bright objects sitting atop the bathroom counter inside a brightly colored vase, one that looked like it had been glued together, and several other objects in different shade of the rainbow littered the floor. Each sweep of his eyes only made his vision start to shake, and slowly the ground around him began to rumble as objects began to slowly twist and move . . . .
Rindou didn't really remember much after that, only the sound of the door opening and Jarett's yelling voice echoing in his ears. He couldn't tell if the man was angry (he sounded it) or extremely shocked, the roar of his own mind blocking out any sounds but perhaps his own breathing - were that the gasping sound he could hear. His vision was flickering to the point where nothing could be seen clearly, the floor before him coming and going as though someone were turning the lights off and on in a rapid beat. Strong hands grasped him by the shoulders and shook him, the tone sounding like someone calling to him from beneath the water's surface. It was distorted and terrifying all at once, leaving the boy to scream loudly and Jarett to almost follow with a yell. There was silence for a moment, as if the world had turned off the sound, followed by Jarett once again calling Rindou's name and a feeling of fabric pressed against his cheeks.
"I...I'm sorry Rindou. I just...I just don't think it'll be safe for you anymore."
Jarett's voice sounded honestly sincere, his tone trembling slightly as he held the rocking figure against his chest. Rindou's hands were pressed firmly over his eyes to the point where his knuckles were almost white with pressure, beneath the tips of his fingers rested a thin layer of black cloth. It wasn't anything fancy, one of the wraps from the curtains in his room, but it seemed to be doing the trick in covering Rindou's face. Jarett had been safe and tied two of them about the boy's head, all things visible now blocked off, and though it appeared to be working the boy stayed in his troubled form.
There were soft sobs issuing from the little boy's mouth and little streams of water running from beneath the makeshift blinder, his emotions showing over and over despite trying to be reassured. He honestly didn't care for what was going on, his whole body still racking itself in terror the moment he thought of what he'd seen, and no matter how tightly Jarett held Rindou to his chest it looked as though it wouldn't stop.
"Perhaps one day you'll be able to see again, when you're older and can understand what's going on. For now though you...you just can't look at the light anymore. You can't see the colors the world has to offer, but at least you will learn to love its sounds and smell. Without sight you will find the world to be a different place, and you will learn to love it that way."
Jarett kept speaking of all the benefits that would come to Rindou from the loss of his sight, something he kept trying to leave in a positive way as to ease the child's fear over his new handicap. He wasn't sure for how long he continued on this way, long enough he probably repeated himself once or twice, though in the end when he felt the sleeping breaths of a child against his chest he knew the storm had passed for now. He slowly lifted the bloody child into his arms and carried him towards the bed, not caring that he'd have to wash and bleach everything tomorrow to clean up the blood. He laid the figure beneath the sheets before he pulled them up and tucked him in, Rindou murmuring as he rolled over in his sleep. There was a soft smile on Jarett's lips as he watched, though it quickly faded as he moved to the couch for his own resting purposes.
That night, Rindou dreamed in black and white . . . .
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Posted: Thu Jan 14, 2010 5:04 pm
[ heavy conversation & colorful commentary ]
tbc. . . .
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Posted: Wed Jan 20, 2010 5:50 pm
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Posted: Wed Jan 20, 2010 5:55 pm
Jarett had long abandoned the cheap curtain ties he'd first used on the poor boy, the only thing he really had on hand at the time other than socks, and the blindfold had soon be made out of a softer material. It actually was a bit darker by allowing less light through regardless of how bright everything might be, and for a while Rindou had had trouble adjusting to the difference. Scraped and bruised shins were his temporary reward for his rambunctious actions, though today the Dustling hoped to make bumping into things a thing of the past. Rindou was fairly certain he'd be able to do things with the help of his blindfold keeping out all that was scary, all that was the rest of the world. All that mattered now was how he handled himself as he practiced whatever he thought could actually make something work - the practice at making himself float.
Of course that all actually sounded much better in theory then actual practice, considering Rindou had no idea at all how to really control his weight other than the moments when he was terrified. What he could understand or remember came from what Jarett had told him as well as feeling the damage he left behind, but remembering and touching still weren't exactly grounds for good knowledge on how to practice.
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Posted: Wed Jan 20, 2010 6:00 pm
[ moving mountains.. ]
tbc . . .
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