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 Posted: Sun Jul 29, 2012 6:58 pm
Even in his drunken stupor, the gleam of the gem had indeed caught the beast's eye. It was like he was caught in a trance as he gazed upon it, forgetting all about the cobra. That was until the damn boy went and swallowed it back down again. The minotaur in his anger raised the boy higher upon the wall and was about to pound him into eternity for playing with him, yet it stopped suddenly, as if pondering something the other had said.
After a few moments the beast seemed to make some sort of decision. With a great gust of air from his mighty nostrils and a nod, the minotaur dropped the boy most unceremoniously. Drinking the last of its alcohol greedily, the beast tossed the empty bottle aside with a smash and held its huge hand out.
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Posted: Mon Jul 30, 2012 2:48 am
Pulled above the ground, blood rushed into his head at a dizzying speed, and he was only being lifted higher.
The bribe was not enough. The monster knew that it was being short-changed, and now, the boy was going to pay for it with his life. He was going to die in the maze. Undignified. Alone. Basil would die with him, and he would never even know it. He would be the lucky one; To go in his sleep. Genie would be so alone without them. Would she rent their room? Would Lola hear the news? Would Mickey be sorry? And Cordelia...
Cordelia.
He thought of her in that moment, her heartbeat matching the pounding in his head. He had entered this maze in an effort to spite her. She had hurt him with her disloyalty, and he had been compelled to prove he could be every bit as willing to abandon her, and succeed. He was a fool. His arrogance would bring him to an early end, and despite his best efforts, she was there with him now, unable to part with the image of her. Hair down. Her white sundress. This was it. God, there were so many things wrong here. This wasn't right.
He shut his eyes, readying for the delivery of his demise, holding his breath with a silent acceptance. Then, mysteriously, he could feel hesitance on the beast's part to strike him. He opened an eye, and was dropped suddenly onto the ground, where he fell in an aching heap. There, he coughed violently against a stream of hot tears.
The sound of a bottle smashing. The stench of alcohol was fresh. Gulping down air, he turned, and saw that the monster was now holding out its hand to him. He had reconsidered? Another cough. He managed a smile, "Oh... Oh I see. Sure. Of course."
Trembling, he lifted a hand as if to ask for the monster's patience, "Coming right up." He prepared himself, doubling over with deep, long breaths. Then, began again with the gagging sound, more urgent than before. It was a delicate process, but he had a feeling that the monster was not feeling very generous with his time. He needed to be quick about this. A pressure against his Adam's Apple, his face shiny with fresh, unbidden tears.
Gllk. Gllk. This one had reached the size of a super-ball. Gllk. Gllk.
If he wasn't careful, he might swallow it down by accident and have to start over. Was he able to choke on it? The monster grunted impatiently.
With one final, forceful cough, The Other hurled the "gem" into his cupped hands. It was even more brilliant in the light, not only reddish-orange, but iridescent like an opal, shining all the colors of the rainbow. He politely began cleaning it on the front of his shirt as though shining an apple, then turned to greet the ungulate demon. "There you are..." He offered gently, dropping his expulsion into the waiting hand.
"Pleasure doing business with you." Sarcasm. He wanted to give the monster the impression that he was parting with something precious. The minotaur wasted no time examining his prize, fumbling with it in his broad fingers. The look on its face was one of success, and joy.
While the beast celebrated his good fortune, distracted, The Other hung his head. He would need a moment before he would be able to stand, wiping away a viscous mixture of tears and saliva with the back of his arm. Every inch of him felt bruised.
But none so much, as his pride.
It was irrational. He should have been overjoyed, consumed with the relief of being spared, and yet, he knew there was no dignity in this. No honor in deceiving a drunken animal. Made a fool of. Forced to kneel... His voice so flattering and complacent as though the beast were doing him some great service in allowing him to live. Hadn't he won? He should have been leaving! Get away, far away! Wasn't it enough!? There was tension in his knuckles, gripping handfuls of his hair, tugging from the scalp.
He moved his wings, greeted by a twinkling sound he had never heard before. From this, he lifted his head, wide-eyed.
The force with which he had been flung to the wall had broken them, shattering the larger pieces of glass, leaving them stalky and naked-looking. That was the trouble with obsidian. It was a very brittle material, meant for slicing. Rending skin. It could not exert great force or be pitted against solid stone. This was horrible in every sense. His wings were his prize, his crown! As far as injuries went, this was humiliating. Would they regenerate? His thinking became muddy. There had been emptiness first. A sense of loss. The need to mourn.
Then, the void started to fill. Coiling inside of him. Rage. Deep and potent. His nostrils flared. This would not stand.
In a patch of white clover, he found the instrument of his vengeance. A triangular shard. He gripped it. Yes. This felt right... He began to stand, and when he did, he felt as tall as a mountain.
The rest was a blur of motion and violence. He was not able to tell he was leaping on the minotaur's back, and yet he did, grabbing hold of a horn? A clump of hair? The stabbing was instinctual now. He was shrieking, possibly sobbing. He held his arm out straight, plunging into an eye, an ear, an artery. The tension of skin, hot and seizing. The beast gave a thunderous roar, swinging its head, shaking him like a wet rag. Would he cut at the throat? Was it too thick? He suddenly sailed through the air. Flung backwards and skipping across the dusty ground.
When he landed, everything had gone black for an instant, then starbursts. The monster fell, and the ground trembled. A high-pitched whining sound. He had enough adrenaline to stand up immediately, despite his physical reluctance. The archway was just behind him. Now was the time to escape, but what if it led to another dead end? Twinkling in the grass, he spotted his naga mani.
Did the monster still live? It would be furious. Would it pursue him?
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Dangerous Conversationalist
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Posted: Mon Jul 30, 2012 2:28 pm
The beast had been happy, utterly so when the cobra gave him that shiny gem. It looked so valuable. Maybe enough to win him his freedom finally. Instead all it did was distract him and cause him more pain than he had ever been in before. Bloody and beaten, the minotaur forgot his prize and weapon, crawling away only searching for some place to heal his wounds. Or perhaps die. Either way it seemed he wouldn't be bothering the floating boy anymore.
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Twintastic generated a random number between
1 and 30 ...
20!
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Posted: Tue Jul 31, 2012 7:52 am
In the fog of his hysteria, there was not even the swell of victory. He was like a spectator, wide-eyed and expressionless. Mouth open. Shallow breathing. He could sense a runniness between his fingers, but did not receive pain. Was his hand... dripping? He touched the other hand to his forehead. There was a sensation there as well. Buzzing... This meant that soon he would be gone. More starbursts. The watery feeling.
The minotaur shrank away in bloody defeat, and it seemed unlikely that it would have the strength to avenge itself. The stink of battle was suffocating.
He began to back away from the scene, slowly. Drawn towards the archway behind him. He could leave from this place, but there would be other monsters. Other scorpions and ghosts. Bigger. Uglier. Drunker.
He swallowed.
He wanted to take the minotaur's head. Make an example of it. Strip it from him with deep, deliberate cuts, and hold this trophy high above his broken wings. Other monsters wouldn't dare approach him then... Not when they saw and smelled what he had done. It was... Well! No... Those horns. It would only slow him down.
He was fading fast. It was difficult to think clearly. Basil... Basil would need a weapon! All of this work would be for nothing if the idiot got them both killed! Could he hold out? He would bury the blade in his arm! An expendable piece of flesh. A place Basil would be sure to find it! He wasn't so brainless he couldn't understand what a shiv was for, right? He clutched the glass tighter in his hand. The dripping he had felt became a pulsing stream. There wasn't any time.
He turned, and pushed through into the archway, regardless of what he found there. The more distance he put between themselves and the beast, the better. It would give them a chance. The maze would close behind them. They'd be safe!
The hedges raced on either side of him. Monotonous greenery, the mist overhead. The lingering smell of metal. He got cotton-mouth. He started to weave a bit. Slow down. The buzzing was intense. Then, the ground hurtling towards his face.
After that, nothing.
SWITCH
Good night, everybody.
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Dangerous Conversationalist
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Posted: Tue Jul 31, 2012 8:54 am
An old toad croaked in the lonely corner in front of the wall, as if mocking the poor souls who took the wrong turn in the previous corner. Though the center of the maze would never allow you re-entry once you've exited, going back in that direction may provide you with a new path to follow instead.
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Twintastic generated a random number between
1 and 30 ...
18!
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Posted: Tue Jul 31, 2012 3:18 pm
DEAD END
One by one, through the blood and ache, Basil's senses returned to him. Face-down however, he could not decide in which order. Drowsily, he lifted his head. He spat.
Pppthh...
Dirt and grass.
A stifled moan.
He took a moment to gather his strength, then steadied his palms on the ground in an effort to push up.
"Ah!" A dull pain in his right hand.
When he inspected it, he was surprised and upset by the wound he found there. A long, uneven cut, at least three centimeters deep. He brushed his thumb across the surface, wincing. It was not very wide across, but something had definitely aggravated it. He gingerly peeled away the blades of grass that had become stuck to it, then brought the wound to his mouth in an effort to lick it closed. Soothe the ache. He sighed deeply. This sort of thing was always happening to him.
He rolled onto his back, staring upwards. He felt like he was spinning, and this helped.
He knew that it was daytime, and he knew that he was outside. Looking up at the sky, there were no clouds. No sun. Was it about to rain? There was only... mist? Fog? Where was he?
Krrrrrkkkkh.
Startled, he turned onto his belly. And what the hell was that? He looked from side to side, then squinted. A fat little brown thing, there, in the grass. Was it a rock? He dared to edge closer on his elbows. It had eyes. He could make out feet, and a mouth.
Krrrkkkkhhh. It repeated. A yellow bubble inflated, then collapsed. He smiled ear to ear. Oh! A toad! A real-live toad! Basil had never gotten toads in the city. This was exciting! He dabbed at his wound a few more times, then tried to dry it on his shirt. His shirt... He looked down at himself, taking a fistful of the cloth. What was he wearing? Blood. From his hand? And hair, short and brown. Definitely not his own. And this pattern. Did he even have anything with stripes? He fingered a button, then tried to move his arms. It was a bit... confining in places. And there was no hood! This definitely wasn't his shirt. And yet, he felt confidant guessing the correct owner.
A pause. He looked at the toad. Then he looked at the ground. "Hey..." He whispered.
Nothing. The flies were soft.
"...Are you there?" He said, a bit louder. "Anybody?" No-one answered. He bit his lip, and tried sitting up. He looked back at the toad, and went to pick it up. It sat heavily in his hand at first, then tried to leap away. Startled, he clapped his other hand over its back to keep it from escaping. He laughed and parted his fingers, where it peeked at him with a perfectly neutral expression. "Did you see him?" He offered. Part of him might have expected a serious answer. He didn't know very much about toads.
Krrrrkkkkhhh. Basil didn't get the impression it knew very much, either. He stood up slowly and looked around, narrowing his eyes. He had never woken up in a place like this before. Not ever. Holding the toad to his chest, he wondered for a moment if he might be dreaming. The cut on his hand wasn't reassuring.
He supposed there wasn't anything for him to do but... start walking. Maybe he could find someone to help him.
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Dangerous Conversationalist
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Posted: Wed Aug 01, 2012 3:50 am
Somehow the toad managed to escape the death clutch that was Basil and leaped forward a few hops before stopping at an intersection. It gave a hearty croak as if actually trying to help the boy navigate his way about the maze. Well...just a little bit anyway. It looked to the Raevan bored, yet somehow questioning. Left or right?
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Twintastic generated a random number between
1 and 30 ...
20!
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Posted: Wed Aug 01, 2012 9:11 pm
T-JUNCTION
Once Basil was upright and had started to explore, it became easier for him to consider the circumstances of his being here. He tried to remember where he had been last, before he'd fallen asleep.
It had been a Thursday or a Friday. Maybe Friday because Genie had stayed up with him to see a movie. They'd had an argument over the thermostat, and Basil had distinctly heard the wail of an ambulance siren down the road. He remembered that something on Genie's face hadn't looked quite right. Some distortion in her features he could not immediately describe as if he were looking at her through a funnel. Her nose? Her teeth? Was she smiling or frowning. Conversations started to loop. Some images were fractured. A few sensations here and there. Running water... From a bath-tub? A thump. As if he'd fallen off the bed and onto the floor. Muddiness. Then, nothing.
He looked around him. He was becoming less convinced of the idea that this was all a dream, or even a walking nightmare, of which he'd had a few. The ache in his hand was too steady. A reminder, perhaps. Although he was grateful of it, his mind was unusually clear at the moment. No headaches. No pounding or burning. He noticed that The Other hadn't said much of anything to shed some light on the subject... It couldn't have been a coincidence.
Nonetheless, it was troubling to think that wherever he was, he was completely walled in, albeit, by ordinary hedgerows. He had seen smaller versions of these in driveways and gardens, so they were not altogether unfamiliar to him. Clearly there were designated paths he was meant to follow, and yet, what should stop him from breaking through the hedges until he found someone to help him home?
Suddenly, the toad broke free from his hands. The legs were surprisingly strong, almost electric when they had kicked at his palm. "Oh—! Hey!" He made a face, trying instinctively to catch the toad in mid-air. He was worried it would fall to the ground and be hurt, but to his astonishment, it had landed quite gracefully in the grass. Well, as gracefully as a fat, brown thing could manage.
It jumped a few paces ahead, and Basil was in slow pursuit. He had never seen a toad move on the ground before, and was fascinated by its method of choice. Birds could fly. Fish could swim. But a toad was a creature that moved around entirely by hopping. He smiled. What a wonderful concept.
It had led him to a parting in the hedges. Two archways for Basil to choose from. This complicated matters. It was like trying to find the bathroom in somebody else's house.
Krrrrrkkkkh, said the toad, almost with an inflection. Basil looked at the two paths, then back to his friend. "Are you trying to say something?" A pause. Basil hunkered down on the ground."You can take a minute," he said reassuringly, "I understand. Sometimes, I have trouble thinking of things to say to people..." The toad was silent now. They stared at one another for several moments, neither blinking, until Basil finally felt it necessary to proceed. "Well... Okay."
He reached to pick up the toad again, holding it in his hands a bit more carefully than before. He looked from side to side. "Which is the way out?" He asked himself aloud. Again, the toad contributed nothing.
Left or right. Well, Basil was strictly right-handed, so... right! Yes.
"Right."
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Dangerous Conversationalist
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Twintastic generated a random number between
1 and 30 ...
6!
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Dangerous Conversationalist
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Posted: Wed Aug 01, 2012 11:55 pm
DEAD END
A dead end waited for Basil at the end of the path he had chosen.
Oh...
Well, no harm done.
After consulting the toad indifferent to current events, Basil paused for a moment, if only to see if there was anything of interest here. A cursory glance told him that he would find nothing but the uniform hedgerows. He had an idea.
"Genie?" He called, "Genie!"
He strained to listen, but no one responded to his cries. He must have been a very long way from home. Fortunately it was still warm and daytime.
"Geniiieeee!"
There was something.
In the far distance, Basil could have sworn that he had felt the sounds of human sobbing. He levitated higher in an effort to see over the hedges, but the mist was much too thick. Whatever it was, it was growing louder.
It bothered him that he could not so much as tell what direction it was coming from. He looked down. It definitely wasn't coming from the toad... Nor did it sound feminine enough to be Genie. Behind him?
He was getting upset.
He didn't quite hear it with his ears, or carry it in his rune, but he felt it, as if he were the only one that could. A phantom wailing, intermingled with what might have been muttering. Was this wrong? Was this private? He shouldn't be listening... There was something in the muttering that disturbed him. He brushed the toad's back with his fingertips, then shook his head free of the sound. A light buzzing.
Best to turn around and take the other path...
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Twintastic generated a random number between
1 and 30 ...
11!
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Posted: Thu Aug 02, 2012 12:38 am
DEAD END
What?! He couldn't even believe it. A dead end! The other passageway was gone. "I... I don't..."
"Genie!" He shouted. As loudly as he could without augmentation from his rune. "Anybody?" Oh this wasn't good. Was he trapped? He turned around, then back again. The sobbing sound from before had followed him. It had now grown more intense and menacing.
As if responding to his mood, he could feel the toad shuffling in his hands. A sign that he was gripping too tightly. Basil whimpered, sinking onto the ground.
Clasping the toad to his chest, he began to rock, hoping that it might drive away that horrible sound. He needed his hood now more than ever. He counted backwards. Genie had taught him to do that when he should ever feel anxious. Deep breaths in between. "Ten... Nine... Eight... Eight... Eight... Aahh...!" He shut his eyes tightly, struggling through the feeling that his head would split open. Explode maybe.
A pressure was building. Excruciating. His vision getting fuzzier around the edges. Climbing higher and higher, louder and louder until reaching its apex. Some resistance, then, breakthrough.
He took a final breath, his head swarming, and after exhaling, it was as though something inside of him had just... given way. Like a dam breaking. He was suddenly flooded with a calmer feeling, cold and numbing. The relief was intense, almost drugging. The toad cheeped at him, and then, the sound of a groan. A somewhat familiar sound.
("Oooohhh...") The voice was weary. Was it in pain?
Basil took a sharp breath and lifted his head. His eyes swiveled, "Hey!"
("Oohh...")
"Hey! Are you there? Don't go!"
After that, silence.
He was worried.
Trying to contain the toad with one hand, he rubbed the side of his face, scratching at a (neatly manicured) sideburn. It was his injured hand. It hurt to even flex the fingers. He decided he was done exploring. At this point, he would be happy to sit on the ground forever. Wait for help. Wait for Genie. Lay on his side and hope The Other would eventually come back. Help him understand...
Taking advantage, the toad catapulted itself out of his hand and began hopping back the way they came. Basil panicked. The toad was his only companion in this endeavor, the only thing that gave him any comfort, and so he had no choice but to follow, scrambling off the grass.
"Oh come on! Not you too!"
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Dangerous Conversationalist
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Posted: Thu Aug 02, 2012 10:44 pm
A gentle summer breeze wafts a light floral fragrance in your direction, alerting you to a small gathering of flowers. As you approach, you notice the frolicking of several butterflies. How tranquil, perhaps you’d like to stay here a bit to rest before moving on?
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Twintastic generated a random number between
1 and 30 ...
9!
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Posted: Fri Aug 03, 2012 4:08 am
RANDOM ENCOUNTER
Basil inevitably caught up to the toad just short of it rounding the corner. In his haste, he very nearly jumped for it, but resisted at the last moment, having long ago learned the harsher realities of handling a small animal too indelicately...
He instead circled around to block its path, and picked it up in palms slicked with sweat. A bit of blood. The sting of salt and dirt. He turned the toad so that he could look into its brown, expressionless face.
"You have to quit doing that!" He said in exasperation.
With his friend in hand, Basil was moments from returning to his post, but stopped in time to enjoy the relaxing caress of a warm air current blowing through the hedges just then. He inhaled deeply. The air felt good on his open face and neck. Normally his hood prevented him from taking pleasure in these things, trading vulnerability for duller headaches.
Inexplicably drawn by it, he was encouraged to return to the place they had been before. The dead-end where he had first encountered the haunted sobbing sound. He stopped, dogged by the feeling that somehow, the path looked different than when he had left it... He did not have the words to describe it, but felt it was lusher now, and greener. Livelier. Warmer.
He crouched down to feel the grass, which was soft-looking. For someone hardened by concrete and couch cushions all his life, it looked perfect for sleeping in.
There were flowers here.
Smatterings of white and blue and orange. Clusters of Queen Anne's lace. Flax, chicory, and the drooping yellow honeysuckle. Basil knew a little about flowers. Harriet, the landlord's wife, fancied herself something of a gardener, though it was hard to nurture green things in the dark, drafty lobby of The Arms. Sometimes, she gave him dandelions in a plastic jar to look after, with the promise that he would set it by the window and see "the cycle of things". Basil didn't have much of a head for "cycles" either, but did as she asked, and watched.
The dandelions would linger a while, wilted and still-yellow. Turning thin and silvery over time. The water in the jar would begin to smell. Rotting until the flowers perished, at which point, he would return to Harriet for another jar.
Yes, flowers could be nice, but Basil was decidedly more interested in wildlife. Things that moved, and could be interacted with, the toad being a fine example.
He spotted something on the honeysuckle. A flickering dash of color, as if a flower were lifting into the air. It approached. To him, a blurry speck of yellow floating on the breeze. Yellow like sunshine, like a school-bus. Arriving closer, he could make out the shape of wings. Was it alive? He held out a hand to it with the tentative fascination of a child, clutching his toad in the other. It landed softly on a blood-smudged fingernail. He could feel the tiny crawl of legs. It was a butterfly... A butterfly!
Basil had never seen a butterfly in person, either. Much too delicate. They could not survive the smog of Durem, and here there was one right at his fingertip. A new friend. He couldn't wait to tell Genie... He turned his hand from side to side, to see it from all angles.
Then, like a flash, it was gone.
He cried out, having felt a jolt from the toad, who now smacked its lips with a certain satisfaction, much to Basil's upset.
This was way too much nature for him to cope with in one afternoon...
He could see a part in the hedges he could go through. Perhaps the way out? He was much too curious to ignore it, and would just have to keep walking, but not before plucking a piece of flowering dogwood for his trouble, threading the stem clumsily through a buttonhole in his shirt.
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Dangerous Conversationalist
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Posted: Sat Aug 04, 2012 2:02 am
With such a spacious meadow, one can't help but be suspicious of its vast emptiness. And rightly so as a large winged beast with the body of a lion and the face of a woman landed dead center of your path.
"I am the Sphinx." She proclaimed with a regal pride as she circles you slowly. "In order to continue through this maze, you must answer three of my riddles. For each one that is incorrectly answered, there will be punishment. Get all three wrong and well..." The creature grinned a smile most evil. "...you don't want to get all three wrong."
Approaching with a delighted smirk, the Sphinx takes a seat right before you, its large tail lazily swatting from side to side. "Now that the introductions are out of the way, first riddle! There are two sisters. One gives birth to the other and she, in turn, gives birth to the first. Who are the two sisters?"
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Posted: Mon Aug 06, 2012 10:39 am
CHALLENGE
When Basil exited from the hedgerows into what appeared to be a large and misty field, he thought it would have brought him relief. Yet, as he began to roam in the unending space with nothing but his pitiable voice searching for the ears of a guide, he found himself slowly yearning for the structure of the maze. The security of a pathway to follow. There was nothing here. The fog fell heavy on the horizon. He could not see.
He sank onto the ground again, anchored by hopelessness. It was so quiet here. It was breaking him to pieces. He wasn't sure at what point he started to babble. Words without any meaning, humming and talking and sing-songing. Anything to keep his rune alive. Where was his Other?
Suddenly, a shadow fleeted across the grass. He jolted, looking around him as though he had seen a specter. It began to circle him, then descend. An amorphous gray disc growing larger and larger until a great beast landed atop of it. He screamed. He couldn't help it. A scream that whistled into a hissing sound. Then he was silent. Dumbstruck as the great beast righted itself on four thick legs. He had never seen anything like it. A human face leering at him from the body of a proud predator, with wings like an eagle. Was it... a bird?
It introduced itself in a haunting human voice. It sounded female. A woman. He began to sputter, "I'm... The Basil?" She continued in spite of him, her strong voice muscling out his weak one. She began to circle him.
Apparently, she was a gatekeeper, and the messenger of his world's worst fear. An ultimatum that hinged on his ability to answer a question correctly, and be punished beyond the norm of shame if he could not. Her smile just then... If it could be called a smile. It was full of ill intent. If he could not answer her, then she would destroy him. His eyes widened. He could barely breathe, the feeling to be nauseous fighting with the feeling to take in air.
("Basil...")
His chest felt tight, and it was painful. There was bile in his throat. Could he swallow it?
("Calm down, or you won't hear the question.")
His vision was flashing. The toad cheeped.
("Basil, that's enough! You're choking me...!")
He heard the riddle in fragments, taking deep breaths through his nose. If she was aware of his anxiety, she must have been very amused by it. They stared at each other a while, Basil and the Sphinx, before finally he mustered a reply, although, it was clearly not what she was expecting.
"...Who are you asking?" He said, with as much politeness as he could muster.
She winced. Answering a question with a question? As if to double-check, she leaned from her left, and then to her right. Even sitting, she was taller than he stood, easily able to peer behind him. No one. He was the only person here. When her eyes settled upon him again, they physically stung him. Was he trying to make a fool of her?
Alarmed by her growing contempt for him, Basil hastily lifted the toad, at which point the Sphinx delivered a long sigh, "You must be joking. Him?"
"...Yes?" A whisper. He reassured her, "You should probably know, he doesn't say very much. You might not get a straight answer from him and..."
"I'm asking you." She was starting to lose patience.
"Oh..." He said softly. He grasped his lower lip in his teeth. There was a bit of chewing and sucking before he haltingly replied, "Well... Which... of us are you asking?"
She kneaded the ground below her feet with long, hooked claws. A woman's face was decidedly more expressive than a lion's, and could communicate even greater hostility. He was being pressed for an explanation.
"I have a friend..." He said with some hesitation. She stopped kneading, "Oh?"
A nod.
The Sphinx laughed loudly, her tail swatting the air, "Well, where is your friend? Are they half as... interesting as you are?"
A flash of anger. Her disbelief made him indignant, shouting, "He is here! He's in my head! Or... in my eyes... My hands. He... He doesn't stay in the same place. He's just... in my body. Somewhere..." The more he talked, the more ridiculous his explanation began to sound. He wasn't articulate enough. He didn't have the words. A creeping feeling in his chest. Fear. Embarrassment. His face began to pale. "Well... I think he's hurt. And... And my hand. I..."
The Sphinx chuckled, "Are you quite finished?"
Silence. She leaned in a bit. He turned his head away. He wanted to spit at her.
"Shall I ask again?"
He nodded slowly.
The riddle made even less sense when it was delivered in full, and Basil was hurting for an answer. He barely understood what a riddle even was. He began to cover himself defensively as if she would leap at him for taking too long. His fingers brushed the dogwood in his button. White with a green center. White... And green. He smiled.
He couldn't think of that just now. Back to the task.
He began mumbling, "I... I don't know any sisters. I... And your sister can't be your mom... Can she? We..." He was thinking too literally. He felt squeezed by pressure. The smugness of the Sphinx annoyed him.
"I don't know," He said at last, shoulders dropping heavily, "The Powerpuff Girls?" Probably his first ever attempt at sarcasm. Nonetheless, it was his final answer. There was a groaning sound within.
("...No more television for you. Ever.")
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Dangerous Conversationalist
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Posted: Tue Aug 07, 2012 12:38 am
The Sphinx gave the boy an incredulous look. That was his answer? The Powerpuff Girls? And here she'd thought she was being rather generous with her first question. Oh well she supposed he was an...interesting one after all. Hopefully he would taste as such.
"Wrong. You know what that means..." The beast gave a wicked smile as she raised her front paw high in the air, claws out. "PUNISHMENT!" She roared raking her claws down upon the hapless Frei. If it weren't for the toad leaping out of Basil's grasp at the last moment, the cobra would have sustained a lot more injuries than he'd already collected thus far.
With an annoyed growl, the Sphinx looked upon the dead toad with glaring eyes. "Foolish creature..." Licking her claws clean of the filth that now dirtied them, "Well then, next riddle. I welcome the day with a show of light. I steathily came here in the night. I bathe the earthy stuff at dawn, but by the noon, alas, I'm gone. What am I?"
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