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 Posted: Thu Sep 30, 2010 12:09 am
A Discovery
Of an Unfortunate Kind
Dec 1410 Sevda smiled as she opened the door to her sister's room, bowl of broth in hand. "How are you doing, Mother?" A soft cry was her only answer as she approached the creature on the bed, no longer human, a mere husk of a person. Kneeling by the bed, she slowly spooned the steaming broth into the bland smile that gaped up at her. "The children are good. Little Pomona found the most beautiful flower this morning; I put it in a vase in the kitchen. If only you could see it; perhaps I'll bring it in later in the day. It's a brilliant yellow, with little stems all in a fray above these big drooping petals and--" She fell silent as blackened skin, taunt and thinly coating the bones below, fell into the bowl of broth on the side of the bed.
"Sevda... Sevda..." Semiha whimpered. She gazed desperately up at her sister, and Sevda's eyes widened. It had been a long time since Semiha had been even the slightest bit lucid. She frequently confused the identities of her visitors; sometimes she would fail to notice them at all.
"Yes, Mother; what is it? Do you need something?" Sevda answered quickly, brushing the hair from her sister's face. Her eyes urgently searched her sister's form; she was desperate for this moment to last.
"C-cold... So cold..." Semiha whispered.
"I'll get you another blanket." Sevda answered and hurried to the closet in the next room, where the winter blankets were kept. She pulled a thick wool one from the top of the stack and ran back, moving aside the bowl so she could lay out the blanket. "There, there... Is that better?" She smiled to see Semiha sigh in relief and was tucking the edges of the blanket under the mattress when her hand hit something small and hard, something foreign. What's this...? she pondered as she pulled the small black book out from its hiding place. Glancing up, her heart wilted a little to see Semiha's moment of lucidity was over--the woman was asleep once more--but her interest was in the item newly discovered.
As she took the bowl and its remaining contents to the kitchen, she felt the book over in her hands and flipped through its pages. Immediately, she recognized Aysel's handwriting. Placing the dirty dish upon the counter, she leafed through page after page, reading the secret thoughts her niece concealed between the covers. There was much talk of Grimms, death, and decay. There was much talk of the plague. The sick obsession Aysel nurtured became very clear to her aunt, and Sevda paled a little more with each turn of the page.
Where is she now? Frantically, Sevda recounted Aysel's list of chores in her mind. Luckily, the girl was very methodical; she always did the same things in the same order every day, and right now... She was tending to the chicken coop. Sevda rushed from the house.
Standing outside the wooden building, Sevda called anxiously, "Aysel! I need to talk to you. Now!"
Only a couple of moments passed before Aysel appeared in the doorway, brow creased with worry. "Yes?" Such anxiety in her aunt's voice could only mean one thing; her mother... she cou--Aysel froze. That book. "Where did you get that?!" she blurted.
"I found it! Aysel, what is this? This... What you've written... It's--"
"It's mine. I can't believe you would read through my private journal!" Aysel stormed forward; fearful, Sevda stepped back as Aysel snatched the book from her hands and cradled it in her arms. “How dare you!”
“Aysel, please, listen, just for a moment.”
“Why should I?” she snapped.
“Because I'm concerned. What you've written... It's not normal. Reading this, I was scared.”
Aysel clutched the book to her chest and turned away, gaze dropped. “You just don't understand...”
“Do you want to talk, Aysel? I know I'm not your mother, but I'm always willing to listen.”
“...No. I don't want to talk.”
“What about that rabbit? Are you willing to tell me about that?”
Aysel went rigid. “No! Don't you dare go anywhere near my rabbit!”
“... Aysel, you need help. You can't keep on like this; it's not healthy, physically or mentally.”
She shook her head. “No, no, no... You just don't get it. I know it's not normal, but I can't abandon my rabbit! He's my responsibility; I can't abandon him now.”
“Him? And why not? Because some stranger you met in town told you you had to? Did you consider the possibility that he was lying to you? Even if these... Plague... things are real, how do you know it's not really some demon in disguise that's sucking your life force away?” Sevda took steps towards Aysel, who nervously edged away.
“B-because... I... I have to believe. They couldn't all have been lying to me...”
“Please Aysel... Let me help you... We'll sort this all out together...” She reached out to embrace Aysel around the shoulder.
Aysel looked up at her aunt with big eyes, tears touching their edges, but then her gaze fell and she quickly stepped away. Her voice deadened as she said, “I need to be alone.” Turning on her heel, she ran into the forest.
“Wait, Aysel!” Sevda called after her. She didn't look back.
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Posted: Sat Jul 30, 2011 1:49 am
The Stranger
And His Proposition
Dec 1410 Aysel looked up. Lost in thought, her feet had led her, almost automatically, to the resting place of her precious Plague. Shadows waved over the clearing, if it could be called even that, shivering and shaking beneath their counterparts in the billowing boughs above. The space was little more than a few square feet unfettered by bushes, room just enough for her; her bunny lay a mere meter ahead in the gap between the nearest bush and the base of a tree. Suddenly, her eyes widened. Just behind her ward knelt a bespectacled stranger. Light skin; quick blue eyes; feathery, blond hair; wrapped in far too many layers of clothing; appearing only slightly younger than Lucius; she knew no one of this description. Angrily, she demanded to know: “Who are you?!”
“Huh?” He looked up, far too engrossed in his note-taking to have noticed her approach. “Funny, I was just about to ask you a similar question.”
She glared at him, unamused by his nonchalance, and clutched her journal a little tighter. Startled, her expression cleared for just a moment, recalling the upsetting argument that had led her here, then resumed its hostile appearance. “People don't travel this deep into the forest; no one but hunters. And you look like no hunter I've seen. I should know; I live near here.”
“Very well then,” the man conceded. “My name is Elias, Elias Breckinridge. I am a scientist working for the Council in our search for a cure to the Plague; I came out here in search of a rare mountain herb that is known to have properties that are key in my latest theory.”
“And just what were you doing to my Plague?”
Elias's eyes widened, then narrowed; his mouth opened in a slight o. “Your Plague?” He gave a disappointed sort of smile as he pushed his glasses up upon his nose. “Of course; I could never be so lucky as to find a Plague of my very own to study.” He sighed, then looked up at her, a twinkle in his eye. “Madame, have you ever given thought to joining the Council of Sciences?”
Aysel regarded this stranger with suspicion; twice in a single day, her secrets have been stumbled upon. It was plenty to make a girl nervous. “The... what...?”
“The Council of Sciences. It's an organization of, well, scientists collaborating and, unlike the Mages, using logic and reason to come up with a cure for the Plague.”
“Why would I join that? I'm no scientist.”
“You are a Grimm, are you not? Many have speculated that Plagues such as yours might be crucial to discovering a cure for the Plague; therefore, any Grimm is encouraged to join our faction. Your choice to join us could tip the scales.”
Aysel looked down; oh, how she wanted that to be true. If... No; she stopped that thought right there. To allow any true hope for that would only bring her more pain. But perhaps she could save others. Her gaze narrowed; she could prove her aunt wrong. There was nothing unhealthy about caring for her bunny, not when it had such potential. “...What would I have to do?”
“Simply, come with me; I'd take you back to Imisus with me and we'd figure out exactly how you could help from there.”
She started; Imisus?! She would go... home? Longingly, she recalled the days when she was small, running though the swamps without a care, and best of all, no one had died; everyone and everything was full of life and joy. “But... I can't. My place with my family is here.”
“Ah... I see. I understand. It just appeared to me that you might be old enough to strike out on your own. But don't worry; if you still want to be involved, I'm sure we can work something out. But give it a night, all right? Sleep on it, and if you change your mind, I'm staying up at the inn in town, all right? If not... I'll come and visit you and your family. What's your name; you never told me.”
“Aysel... Aysel Vartanian.”
“It has been a great pleasure meeting you, dear Aysel.” Elias smiled as he rose to his feet and began walking away. “Until next time we meet!” He offered a parting wave as he made his way through the trees. Aysel stared after him.
“...Goodbye,” she answered, too late.
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Posted: Sun Jul 31, 2011 3:20 am
Tragedy
And Loss
Dec 1410 The cloth on Yosif's tunic crumpled in Sevda's grip, and she released her brother with a sigh. “Don't worry,” he said, softly, patting his sister on the shoulder. “It'll all work out. I promise.”
“I suppose... I... I guess it has to...” she replied, her voice still quavering. Red rimmed her eyes, and she used the edge of her apron to wipe the tear stains from her cheeks. Heaving a sigh, she looked around the house and stood up. “Thank you for listening... But I think it's about time Mother heard of what her daughter's been up to.” Yosif offered her a sad smile before walking out the door, leaving his sister to his musings.
Sevda pensively twisted her apron in her hands as she walked through the doorway to Semiha's room, but immediately, she could tell. Something was different. She rushed to the bed; she put her fingers upon her sister's through, below her nostrils. Her faint heart had ceased to beat; the air about her fingers remained stale and still. Semiha was dead. “N... no...”
“C-cold...” Semiha had said. If only she had seen the signs! If only she could have recognized that their time was so short! Sevda broke down; burying her head in her arms, she wept anew.
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Posted: Sun Jul 31, 2011 9:41 pm
As Night Falls
Things Change
Dec 1410 Aysel nearly walked straight into the barreled chest of her uncle; she paid so little attention to where she walked. Her chest fluttered as she looked up into Yosif's stony eyes. “Come with me; we need to have a talk.” It was not a question.
She bowed her head and answered quietly; she knew what she would face when she arrived home would not be pleasant, to put it mildly. “Yes Uncle; I was already on my way.” Few words were exchanged as she followed him home.
At last, Sevda stood, wiping her eyes. She had cried more than enough for one day; now was the time to give her sister's body proper ceremony. She pulled the blanket up over Semiha's cold face and turned to take care of Semiha's sick bucket when she heard footsteps in the doorway, one set heavy, one set light. She looked up.
“I found Aysel wandering in the forest; now would be a good time to give her that—” Yosif's voice died mid-sentence when he saw the blanket over his sister's face, and his stern facade failed. “She's gone?” he choked out in a hoarse whisper.
“NO!” Aysel shouted, tearing away from her uncle and throwing herself upon her mother; her book fell to the floor as her hands clawed at the blanket, struggling to remove the piece of fabric that hid Semiha's still face. Aysel froze. “No, no, no, no, no...” she half-muttered, and clung to her mothers thin, frail form, sobbing. “C'mon Mom... Wake up... You told me you were gonna fight... You were gonna fight your hardest... You were gonna beat this thing; you were gonna be the first in our whole village to do it... You can't go now!” Clutching her tight, Aysel buried her face in her mother's bony chest, and wept. Behind her, Yosif stepped slowly over to his sister and embraced her, both their faces full of pity for their troubled, orphaned niece.
After a while, Yosif mumbled to his sister, “We should probably get her off...” Sevda nodded, and reached out to gently put her hand upon one of her niece's shoulders.
“Come on, Aysel; get up... You might catch the Plague if you stay clinging to her like that...” Gently, she tried to guide Aysel away from the corpse when she struck out, slapping her aunt's hands away and clutching the corpse ever closer.
“You know what?! I hope I do catch the plague! It'd be better than staying here! This world sucks!” Aysel shouted, and Sevda snapped, slapping her niece across the face. For so long, they had allowed Aysel a loose leash, and she had taken it for granted. She didn't deserve all the care she got.
“How dare you! So many people have and do love you; how dare you even think something so selfish! We've given you so much, and you do nothing but mope and wander! You've been nothing but a burden on this family!” Sevda's breath came in pants, filled with sudden adrenaline; her expression was furious, and Aysel could only stare, stunned. It had been years since anyone had laid a finger upon her, and even then, it was always one of her parents; relatives never doled out disciplinary actions. Her gaze fell, and she released her mother's corpse, sinking back down onto her knees.
“I'm sorry...” she said weakly, her hands feebly grasping her journal and holding it tight to her chest. “I'll try not to be a burden anymore...” Slowly, she rose to her feet, looked both her aunt and uncle dead in the eye, then turned and fled at top speed out of the house, nearly knocking down her cousins in the process. Sevda reached out after her, her expression already twisting into one of guilt, but Yosif took her hand, gently guiding it down.
“No,” he soothed. “She needs her time alone. Don't worry; she'll come back. She always does.”
“I was cruel...” she answered, her voice cracking, and leaned heavily upon her brother. Glancing up, she could see the anxious faces of children crowding the doorway. “Auntie... What happened?” questioned Zhen.
Tears streamed down Aysel's face as she dashed through the woods; this time, her feet knew exactly where the were going.
“You've been nothing but a burden on this family!”
Sevda's words echoed in her head, driving her to run ever faster; when she at last reached the clearing of her Plague, her legs buckled, sending her sprawling into the corpse. Sniffling, her hands grasped and released the putrid fur in her hands, taint crawling all through and around her fingers, when her expression hardened. “This is all your fault!” she shouted, picking up the Plague and chucking it at the tree it lay next to. It fell to the ground, as still and dead as ever, and she stared, feeling no better. Hiccuping twice, she could feel sobs rising back up within her, and curled up on the ground as she let the rivers of tears flow.
Inevitably, her eyes ran dry, and her hands reached up, feeling around for her rabbit. Hiccuping, she pulled it close, clinging to it like a child and their teddy. It was still as limp as the day she found it, she noted dully. The thought passed blankly through her mind; as is common after a good long cry, she felt hollow, empty. “What should I do?” she whispered to her Plague. The red eye stared blankly up at her, and she sighed. “What am I doing; I'm talking to a corpse...” she mumbled, her gaze trailing before snapping back. “But you are a living thing, aren't you?” She stared searchingly at her plague for a few moments, then sighed again. “Then again, what do I know; I know almost nothing about you.” As she lay there, her mind began wandering back to Elias, and what he had said to her.
“Many have speculated that Plagues such as yours might be crucial to discovering a cure for the Plague; therefore, any Grimm is encouraged to join our faction. Your choice to join us could tip the scales.”
The sky had grown dark, and Sevda anxiously peered out the window. Lucius put an arm around her shoulder. “Don't you worry; she's probably on her way home now. Come on; rest. You've had a long day.”
“Yes... I suppose you're right... But...” She tossed a glance outside. “Lucius, will you go look for her?”
“Sure; Yosif and I both will. Just get some rest.” Reluctantly, Sevda turned and snuggled up among the furs that served as a communal bed, with the children, as Lucius and Yosif met up outside, armed with torches. “I'll search this way, and you search that way?” he offered. With an affirmative nod from Yosif, they were off.
It was dark in the Vartanian home. Aysel couldn't shake the feeling of there being something inherently wrong in what she was doing, sneaking into her own home, and the feeling was made only stranger by the presence of the Plague she clutched to her chest. But she had to collect her things. On her way, she had spotted her uncles moving through the forest, surely searching for her, but luckily, she had been able to avoid them. Quietly, she crept into the room with all her clothing, stealing a bag and shoving it full. Then it was onto the kitchen. She dug up some jerky, biscuits, and produce, and shoved that into the bag too. Then—a noise. Freezing, her head snapped over towards the sleeping family. Mala turned over, but none woke. Aysel breathed a sigh of relief as she moved into her mother's room, her last stop. Upon the nightstand lay a necklace, a silver clam, mouth gaping wide, set with a pearl. It was one of her mothers few remaining possessions, and Aysel couldn't stand to leave it. Putting down her rabbit, her bag, her book, she carefully clasped the necklace around her own throat before picking up her things and slipping out the window, into the night.
Elias groaned. The loud, obnoxious knocking banging upon his door could belong to only one person. He fumbled with the glasses sitting on his nightstand as he rose and went to the door. What in the world could...—His train of thought stopped short as he saw who accompanied that infuriating innkeeper. He smiled as, clutching her bunny tight to her chest, Aysel told him, “I've decided to go with you.”
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Posted: Thu Jan 05, 2012 1:34 am
A Brief RespiteBut a Sleepless Night
March 1411Aysel, still recovering from the perceived rejection on the side of her family, stops at an inn with Elias, where they rest for the night. While he goes to check in the room, Aysel is left in the front, where she encounters a stranger who inquires some about her. Her reactions are unstable and unpredictable, until Elias comes and breaks up the scene, speaking slickly before taking her away.
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Posted: Sun Jan 22, 2012 11:20 pm
The Scientists
And Their Mission
July-Nov 1411 Quote: Word through the grapevine (or catacombs, as the case may be) is that some scientists aren't working up to the Council's standards in various ways. Rumors of shoddy cleanup, slacking, and misuse/poor treatment of supplies - among other things - are reaching Doctor Kirkaldy and Representative Rockwell's ears. Being the busy men that they are, they are assigning you to sleuth out the poor excuses and detail the various misdemeanors they are committing.
This mission is a solo. You are free to do it in as many as you see fit, and no RP is required. Your character is not required to bring these Scientists to justice (as they are simply spying and writing up a report) and you can make up as many various unsafe or unsanitary offenses as you so desire. Please detail at least three (3) scientists and/or offenses committed in your response as well as any character development or opinion of the matters at hand on your Grimm's part.
“Aysel?” Elias called, announcing his entry. Looking around, he couldn't help but sigh slightly at the state of the tiny room with the cot and girl in one corner and a small desk in the other with her full bag slumped upon it. Even for the catacombs, this room was barren. He wished he could have brought her somewhere a little cheerier, but unfortunately, as he too lived in the catacombs, he had no place to offer; he couldn't afford a home in the city, not with the way he spent his money. Carriages to Shyregoad and back are not cheap! Focusing back on the task at hand and the letter he twiddled in his fingers, he sat down beside her on the cot. Her back was to him, and she hadn't responded to his call, but she looked up when he sat down. Apparently, she had heard him. “This arrived for you,” he stated, offering the letter with a slightly apologetic smile. “I read it already; I hope you don't mind.” She blinked slowly as she took the letter from his fingers and sat up to read it, adjusting her rabbit in her lap.
“...So, they want me to find anyone who has broken one of these rules? Like a spy?” she asked at last, already sounding reluctant. She was still so tired...
“Yes!” he answered, eyes gleaming. “Don't you see? This is your chance to prove your worth to them! Complete this task, and you'll finally become a real Scientist!” At this, she looked up, and he pressed forward, taking on a slightly didactic tone, “Now, of course, if you're going to do a report like a Scientist, then you'll have to be detailed.” Standing, he walked over to her desk. “From now on, you should keep a personal record of everything that happens to you. Memory is so fallible; it would be foolish not to. We'll go get you a new book tomorrow, alright?” He smiled at her, and she nodded.
One week later, Aysel had not found a single troublemaker, so to speak; although, if she was honest with herself, she might admit to not really looking. She claimed to be, of course; that's what she told Elias whenever he asked how she had spent her day. In truth, she was exploring. She had never seen a city as big and bustling as Montburg; her adventures within it revived the adventurous child she once was. Consequently, she discovered her first offender completely by accident.She had finally reached the edge of the city; she could see where the streets began to sag and where the buildings broke up a bit to make way for greater expanses. She knew that somewhere out there, the marsh her family once inhabited lapped at its shores. Caught up in wondering if anyone still resided there, she failed to see the man lying directly in the midst of her path until she found herself laying face first in the dirt. “Ow...” she whimpered as she slowly pushed herself up onto first her knees, then her feet. She looked back as the man behind her groaned and clutched his stomach, and she took a cautious step back as she saw the state he was in: His cheeks were flushed with fever, and he looked ready to heave at any moment. Only his voice prevented her from taking off at rapid speed.
“Madam... Madam, are you alright?” asked the big, burly working man.
“Yes... I'm fine. But what about you? No offense, but you look terrible...” she answered with concern.
He just laughed. “Aye, madam, I ain't feelin my best... But fret not; it does no good to make a lady worry. I don't have the plague, I think. Y'see, I was feelin fine earlier... Just a crick in my neck that was botherin me when I woke. Then here comes this priest, all mighty 'n lordly, an' he says to me, 'Panyma-blessed potion, it'll make all yer pains disappear. Just a single shilling.' Wells, I wasn't sure about that, but—” he paused, pressing hand to his mouth, and visibly swallowed his bile. “Ugh. But that crick was an awful nuisance. Sos I gave 'im a shillin' and he gave me this little bottle a' liquid. He walked off, an' I drank it there on the spot, but b'fore ya know it, here I am, lyin on the floor, my gullet hurtin a good one! An' I still got that crick in my neck!” He laughed. “If this be the good Panyma's blessin', then I don't want it!”
“Oh... Well, I'm so sorry...”
“Ah,” he huffed. “Think nothin' of it, madam. I'll bet you five shillins that I'll be right as rain in a few days. After all,” he grinned, “I ain't got no enemies. No one'd wanna poison me. Jus' give it some time, an' look out for peddling priests, alright, madam?”
She nodded. “Of course.”
“Ah, get outta here, lass. I be done with ya.” Good-naturedly, he shooed her off, plenty happy to have been able to share his story.
The story stuck as Aysel continued her explorations of the city, and her mind repeatedly went back to the identity of that mysterious priest. Who would want to hurt someone like that worker? He was so nice! Of course, she barely knew him... Again and again, she forgot the incident for a while, then it would return again without warning, and her thoughts would circle around until she forgot again.
On her way back to the catacombs—“Home,” she reminded herself—Aysel paused. She stood outside a tavern, and from within, she could hear men shouting and laughing. The voice of one man in particular rose above all of the others: “Wench! Bring another round over here! I've got shillings to spare!” Aysel drew nearer to the doors; there was no mistaking that voice: It belonged to a man named Brendon; he often could be found lazing about the common room in the catacombs, loudly complaining about the stupidity of religious folk and how there was nothing left in medicine to discover—that all the 'good discoveries' had been taken, except for the cure to the plague, but 'no one was ever going to figure that out, not in a hundred million years'. Quite the pessimist, he took every chance he could to describe the dreary future as he saw it, but more than anything else, he found time to always, always whine about how broke he was, that his studies never paid for themselves. In short, the Brendon shouting in tavern was one Aysel had never met.
Curiosity piqued, she peered in the doors, and saw a sight she never thought to witness: Brendon sitting alone at a table, drinking from his great mug of beer, dressed in the pristine shades of a priest's outfit. He deplored religion! This sight, in conjunction with his sudden acquisition of money... There was little doubt in her mind. He was the peddling priest. She couldn't be sure if he had attacked others, if he had a reason for doing so, but... She didn't care. He was hurting people. Turning sharp on her heel, she strode back towards her home, full of determination. She had found her first criminal.
Elias was so proud of her. For days afterward, he praised her for catching that 'bad seed' and encouraged her search for the next, even going so far as to suggest suspects for her to spy on. Eagerly, she followed his leads, and although most of them came up clean, to both of their excitement, they finally found one who fell below the standard. Mark was his name, and for days, his neighbors had complained of dirt in the hall and an awful smell coming from his room and person. An inspection of his room by Aysel while he happened to be out revealed the awful squalor he that worked in: Old blood, cracking and peeling, smeared all over the walls; corners full of cobwebs; a pile of dirt filled with corpses and grubs; flasks and test tubes spotted with yellow grease—The scent made Aysel's head spin and her stomach churn. She left as quickly as she could to write up her report.
As she sat at her desk and wrote Mark up, Elias paced behind her, flipping casually through her diary. “We make a great team,” he said suddenly, flipping through the blank pages at the back of the book. He was all caught up on his reading.
“Mmhm...” she answered half-heartedly, concentrating on her writing.
Elias looked over at her and smiled, but then his gaze slid over to the rabbit corpse lying on the corner of her desk, and it faded slightly. “When that grows, you'll have to give it a name. Have you thought about that yet?”
That grabbed her attention, and she looked up, gazing at the rabbit. She knew what he was referring to. “Mm... No, not really... I guess... Since he's the only family I have left... and he makes people sick... Maybe I should just call him Illkin.” The answer, though somber, came halfheartedly as she focused back down on her report.
“Sick Family? Well, it would be suitable...” Hands clasping behind his back, he walked up behind her and leaned in, looking first at her rabbit then writing. “Done?”
“Yes... I think so.” She scooted back in her chair and let Elias pluck the paper from the desktop and quickly skim it.
“Looks good.” With that final stamp of approval, he left with the report to go post it. As the steps faded down the hallway, Aysel smiled, pride welling up within her. Glancing at her rabbit, she whispered, “You hear that? We're helping people...”
Aysel slept well that night.
In the months that followed, Aysel continued to sleuth out the rule-breaking scientists and, with every scientist that disappeared, her pride grew. She felt like a force of justice. Even if she wasn't yet curing the plague, she was still helping people, commoners and scientists. Then, there was Elias. Even if she didn't have her family anymore, whenever the though returned to her and hurt her heart, she remembered him and felt better. He was her father, her older brother, her friend, and he wasn't the only one: The climate of discovery that pervaded the catacombs awoke the curious student in her, and she discovered with joy that most of her neighbors made for eager teachers and friends. She slept well.
In the midst of a cold December night, Aysel awoke to the click of a closing door. Her door. “Wha..? Nn...” Rubbing her eyes, she sat up in bed, and automatically, her gaze slid to her desk, where her rabbit lay, staring emptily as always. But who...? Swinging her legs down, she went quickly to the door and peered out into the hall, down which a figure retreated. It was a he—that much she could see in the silhouette he cast by the dim light of his lamp. Suddenly, he turned and disappeared into a room, and Aysel's tired eyes widened slightly. Wait. She counted the doors from her room to the one the man disappeared in. To make sure, she counted again. Yes, there was no mistaking it. That was Elias's room.
Worry filled her, and Aysel wasted no time, hurrying down the hall in nothing but her bare nightgown. Sending up silent prayers that no one else would see her, she threw open the door to Elias's room and saw within something far worse than all of her expectations. All of the blood drained from her face, and Elias smiled at her. “Aysel...” he mused. “Isn't it beautiful?” She followed his gaze up his arm to his hand and delicate fingers, which, with an angel's grace, held a syringe filled to the brim with twisting, writhing taint. Her gaze did not remain there long; it fell back to his other arm, which hung slack at his side. Long sleeve rolled all the way up, the ravages of his body lay bare for all to see: Bloated buboes trembled about a bruised and black epicenter, the inside of his elbow. This was not his first injection of taint.
The swing of his arm broke Aysel from her trance: “No!” she cried, too late. Far, far too late. He moaned with pleasure as the taint pumped through his plagued body, and she choked on a sob of horror and helplessness. He was going to die, and there was absolutely nothing she could do about it. She took a step back. Nothing but run. Run, as she always did. The tears flowed freely as she turned and tore out of the room, racing down the hall. She didn't care who saw her anymore. Turning sharply, she threw open the door to the lab of another older Scientist she had grown close to, named Wolfgang, who had promised her comfort in his home any time she needed it. She needed it.
She sped across his lab, thundered up his stairs, and shoved open the floor panel that opened into his true home. Her eyes, accustomed to the darkness of the catacombs below, had little trouble navigating the room she found herself in, and as she stumbled out into the hall, she paused. She thought she heard... a voice? Elias momentarily forgotten, she moved to the neighboring door—shut, of course—and pressed her ear to the wood. Faintly, the muffled voice of a young girl called out, “Please, Mister! Let Cybil go!”
“What did I tell you?! Quiet, urchin, or I'll put you with the others!” That was Wolfgang. She had never heard him sound so angry and cold. Her heart skipped a beat as her hand closed around the doorknob, and she opened the door. She was shocked for the second time that night.
Cages of them. Little excitos, little stunteds, cooped up in little cages, and by them, a bigger cage, well suited for the dirty little child who pressed her face to the bars presently. Wolfgang, bent over a desk, clutched a scalpel in the sharp light of a lantern. He started at the sound of the door and cursed loudly as he cut himself, blood spilling over the small teal figure pinned by its hands and feet to the desk. She would have to write him up for this, some part of her dully noted. Her knees wobbled, and she took a step back as the world began to move again. Wolfgang stood, and the street child called for her, “Miss, miss!” The excitos rattled their bars, and Aysel suddenly found herself backed into a wall. There was nowhere else she could go. Nowhere but down. Her knees buckled, and she slumped against the wall, sobbing into her hands as her fragile little world fell apart all over again.
There was nothing she could do. Her efforts were meaningless. Corruption and decay were everywhere; they closed her in on all sides, suffocating her. There was nothing she could do.
Upon a desk in the catacombs, the red eye of a dead rabbit shone brightly in the darkness.
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Posted: Sun Jan 22, 2012 11:23 pm
Quote: Be StillBravery and Terror
Dec 1411 After accepting an invitation to a meeting in Helios, Aysel awoke amid the chaos of Lady Sanguine's announcement and the Emporer's entrance. With near no time to regain her bearings, the auditorium immediately erupted into chaos at the demand for the Grimms to give up their plague. Overwhelmed, she crumpled into her seat, but the others shouting around her gave her courage: She stood upon her seat and defended her Plague. At that moment, her Caedos was born. Their reunion, however, was cut short by a gunshot and violence center stage, to Aysel's horror and Ilkin's fascination. They both struggle to meet each other, but before they can so much as touch, a Council Mage whisks them away, and they are gone.
“Princess..?”
She froze, and a sudden tremble overtook her very soul. A boy. Her Plague was a boy. From their previous distance, she hadn't been able to tell. Tears welled up in her eyes once more, and she wept anew as she swept him up into her arms and clutched him close. Oh, thank Panyma! She had been so afraid she was going to lose him! Sobbing, she slowly rocked back and forth, taking no notice of his struggles until his cold, clammy hands pushed against her face, and he cried out, “P-Princess! Please, release me!” With a horrified squeak, she dropped him. Did he not like her? Had she hurt him? Was he going to betray or reject her now, like so many others? Oblivious to her thoughts, he huffed a bit as he stood and brushed himself off, then put a hand to his chest and gave a small bow. “Forgive my brusque tone, Princess. You are far stronger than I; I feared I may crack. Please, shed no more tears!” He reached a hand up towards her, though her cheek was far out of his grasp. “I am unharmed.” He smiled up at her, and that was all it took. If she wasn't his before, she most certainly was now.
Rather than stop the flood of tears, his speech only renewed them as she brought a trembling hand to her mouth, a smile that was afraid to hope starting to curve her lips. She saw past the dark colours and wicked claws; to her, he appeared an angel. Her efforts had paid off. All that pain and effort to keep him safe, and at last, he was here, and he was kind. She reached to grab him again, but then withdrew, fearing she may hurt him, and instead lowered her hand for him to step onto. Once he did, she brought him up towards her face, where he rubbed at her eyes and wiped the tears from her cheeks, and she whispered, “My name is Aysel.”
“Ahh, Princess Aysel, is it? What a beautiful name. Do I have a name?”
The question wiped the smile from her face, and her gaze fell. “Yes.” Up until that fateful December night, she had always told herself she would decide on her Plague's name when it grew. Whatever name she picked, she had wanted to be sure it fit, but Elias lacked her patience. Since she refused to offer any more suggestions, he had latched onto her first, often to her irritation. “Your name is Ilkin.” Thoughts as lifeless as her tone, she wondered if Elias had succumbed to his disease yet.
“Ilkin... What a well-chosen name; I like it.”
Voice dull, she scarcely responded to him. “Come on; let's go.” As quickly as it had begun, with the reminder of Elias, the star burst of her joy had faded again; once more, reality was crashing down around her. Cradling Ilkin to her chest, she slowly rose to her feet and, with a quick look around, found the door, where an envoy greeted her. She declined his offer with a shake of her head and a muttered thanks, then slipped the money into her satchel before stepping out into the morning light and looking around. Yes, she knew this place; she had been to Montburg's Council Headquarters more than a few times. She was home. At the sight of the Guard's horse carriage, however, she cringed away. She had had enough of politics for one day. The walk would do her good. Turning down the dusty street, she left.
Ilkin was quiet. He wasn't so oblivious as to fail to notice Aysel's change in demeanor, but alas, he was unsure of what to say. He could see it in her eyes: She had shut down, retreated to the inside of her mind, and seemed as if she would not appreciate an interruption. That was alright with him. He glanced around at the new world all around him, then settled into his Princess's bosom. When she was ready, she would speak. As for him, he had this bright new world and the brief but entrancing memories of his new life to occupy him. He smiled. When she returned, he would be there.
The memories that Ilkin so admired, however, were the very same ones that haunted Aysel. A brief tremor overtook her as the memories of the murders rose again from the ocean of her mind, and her hands closed for a moment around Ilkin. No, please no. She shook her head, resisting the tightening of her throat and the churning of her stomach. She desperately needed something else to think about, so she directed her thoughts to what had happened after, that curious muddle of her memory. There had to have been something important amid all the things said at them, right?
Unfortunately, she remembered very little... Not much had been able to pierce her haze of fear. Nothing further had happened to the Emperor; she recalled that much. She remembered a woman shouting out another's name in concern, though she hadn't the foggiest idea of who or where the pair might have been... Another pair like herself and her Ilkin, she concluded. She wasn't the only concerned one in that crowd, that she knew, but she dragged her mind forward before it could drift away any further. A man with a hat and blonde hair had spoken to them, saying something about issuing change? And hiding and keeping the Plagues safe? She wasn't sure... A young boy apologized for something after that. Ah, and here was where her memory was clearest: Another man had taken to the podium and announced the meeting would be delayed, and no one was yet a traitor. The rush of relief she experienced then came flooding back to her now with enough force to weaken her knees, causing her to stumble, and summon tears to blur her vision. At the time, she had nearly fallen upon the chair beside her. After that, she was dimly aware of his going on to say the meeting had ended, then another woman—the very same who had shouted the name in distress earlier, she now realized—said something about an arrest. She didn't recognize the name. After that, things descended into an entirely new bout of chaos; someone touched her, and then she had returned to the HQ... She looked down at Ilkin. He seemed so happy, and she was so grateful to have him. Thank you, Panyma...
When she at last turned her gaze up, she could see Wolfgang's house approaching, and she turned her eyes away. After she had discovered his forbidden experiments, he had threatened her life should she breathe a word about what she saw before letting her go, and in her fear, she had accepted, fleeing out into the night at the first chance of freedom she had. At first, she had been too afraid to report anything, so she kept to her word. It didn't help that the older Scientist kept an eye on her. Despite her new found fear for Wolfgang, he hadn't been her biggest concern: Once she started watching for it, she could see the signs of Plague in Elias beginning to reveal themselves. All those little comments that had simply seemed off became painfully obvious signs of his mental deterioration. She would lie awake for hours, watching her locked door, terrified he would again break into her room in the midst of the night and steal from Ilkin. But the issue couldn't be ignored for long: Elias only worsened, and people began to take notice.
Eventually, she wrote her letter and—she recalled the way her fingers shook—she included a page on Wolfgang's transgressions. That page she hid in her dress; she couldn't be too cautious. Thankfully so: Wolfgang did stop her on the way to HQ and demanded to read her letter. She remembered the way her whole body shook as the seconds ticked by, and the way cold sweat beaded on the back of her neck, beneath her thick black hair, and raced down to the collar of her dress. In the end, he had approved and let her pass, and she couldn't be gone fast enough. Her letters had been delivered in safety, and within the week, Wolfgang had been arrested, and Elias carted away to somewhere safe for him to be taken care of. She hadn't seen either of them off. The next day, people had come to begin to sort through both scientists' things. Then the letter had arrived.
Aysel didn't take the entrance to the catacombs through Wolfgang's house anymore. Her footfalls echoed on the concrete steps as she descended, and soon, she was opening the door to her room. “This... is it.” At last, she spoke. Ilkin merely stared around with the same interest he had been examining everything else they had passed during their walk. Glancing up at her, he was pleased to note that at least she was here again, if not exactly cheery. She closed the door behind them and tossed her bag onto her desk before collapsing back onto her bed. “Home...” It scarcely felt like it, but before nostalgia could come coursing back to possess her, her eyes fell closed, and at last, she slept.
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Posted: Wed Jul 17, 2013 3:04 am
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Posted: Sat Aug 10, 2013 7:33 pm
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