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 Posted: Fri Aug 12, 2005 8:39 pm
Journal,
Haku found something in the forest today. He was on one of his entomology kicks when he found this thing that made him forget all about the bugs around. He brought it home, but oddly enough, this thing doesn't have roots or anything like that.
Wait, back up for a minute. Haku found a flower. Not like a daisy, or like a petunia or whatever type of flowers you find around normally, it kinda looked like a lily, but even lilies have roots, this thing was just like bud, leaves, and...antennae? Haku said that there might be stamens, or other flower type parts, but I dunno, looks kinda like a bug is stuck in there, or something.
It's all...green, but the leaves are yellowing, like it was autumn, or something. Also, all over the green petals there are gold stripey things, like someone spilled gold paint all over it at some point. It's unlike anything I'd ever seen before.
Haku's got it floating now in a porcelain bowl with some nutrients he fished out from wherever the crud he gets half the stuff he owns.
I put it on the windowsill, so it will get lots of sunlight. It really looks pretty up there. The sun reflects off of the water in the bowl and casts rainbow sparkles all over the ceiling. Haku's gone off to try and research the flower, but I'm content to just watch it as it floats. Sometimes i'd reach out and poke it, to set it into motion again.
Tadriemos has gotten a little reclusive, of late. He's stopped moving about so much, and has mostly been content to sit on the pillows, eyes closed, curled under his soft wings in the sunlight. I'd worried that he was sick, but every night he gets up, totters to the swing I made, and warbles for an hour or two, before quieting down and eating a can of olives and sardines. I don't understand what's going on with Tadriemos, but he's usually content to sit with me and crunch on pickles for the remainder of the evening before returning to sleep in the morning.
And I have caught Isaura and Tadriemos napping side by side on more than one occation. Well.
Always,
Raissen.
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Posted: Fri Aug 12, 2005 9:01 pm
Dear Journal,
The house has been unusually quiet of late. Dian has nearly literally locked himself in the studio, and for the past few days has refused to come out, except to use the bathroom, and shower. He's also eaten nothing that has required making, so he's running on soda, peanut butter, and cereal. I've put out sandwiches, but find them no more than an hour later back in the fridge.
Hikaro and Haku both have spent every waking moment in the city, performing on street corners for money. So, when i'm not at class, i'm alone with Isaura, Tadriemos, and the flower-thing.
Once or twice Dian emerged from the studio, dusted in white, glasses covered in a white film, the powder causing his tail to look dabbled with snow. He coughs weakly and lays on the couch, dozing off for an hour or so before getting up and going back into the studio.
Lots of company, he's been recently. Isaura's turned into a regular mouser, and is out prowling at all hours, Tadriemos is nearly comatose, hugging into my red boa for dear life, and the only being that reacts to my presence is that flower thing.
What am I now, a ghost?
Has everyone forgotten I live?
The flower thing that floats in the bowl by the window shivers when I approach. It doesn't have a scent, not like any flowers I'd ever encountered before. I took a few drops of my perfume and dripped it onto the petals, experimentally. The antennae thingies curled into little spirals, and the flower began to spin in place.
Not as freaky as I expected.
Maybe...I think I alienated my father with the clothes I wear. He's a really low key guy, maybe he thinks He and I can't possibly relate. Maybe. Maybe he's avoiding me. Only one way to find out.
Always,
Raissen
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Posted: Fri Aug 12, 2005 9:03 pm
Entry fifteen, July 21st, 2005
Dear Journal,
The house is quiet, too quiet. With Hikaro and Haku out more often than in, the normal energy that's in the air because of them has waned continuously. Irritatingly so. Even Raissen has stopped playing his music all over the house, and what is left is a dry silent shell.
That just wouldn't do at all, would it?
It started with a steady beat, thrumming quietly. My hand cranked a dial and the beat bopped through the whole house. Delightful. A melody snuck in through the side, and I was gone, bouncing through the house with the beat. It had been a long time since I'd last heard good music you could dance to.
This music you could dance to. At least I thought so. Apparently I wasn't alone because not five minutes after I'd started playing it, Raissen emerged from his room, and started dancing with me. I never thought he'd be into techno, but you learn new things every day. We didn't have a club scene, with the flashing lights and bumping dancers and smoke machines, but we had two bored guys and a sound system, and you know, that's all you really need. In fact, because we didn't have to worry about three, four, five dozen other people, we let lose and cut up a rug, to to speak. I hadn't known Raissen to be a dancer, either, but he spends enough time alone in his room with music playing I suppose I shouldn't be suprised. He actually looked at me shocked when I was dancing. It was hard to keep from laughing, Raissen is so cute, sometimes.
I've got a few different mixes tucked away, and by the time we played them all through, both of us had danced ourselves silly, and we collapsed into a tired heap on the floor. It was hot, and we both had to become free of one another to avoid the other's body heat. After a while, I got up and made us cold drinks, cold drinks being iced fruit drinks, of course. Alchoholism runs in the family, and I see no need to take any chances. Tadriemos even woke up and I fixed a drink for him too, ironically in a shot glass. Mother gave it to me when I turned twenty one and I havent the heart to throw it away. Maybe I'll give it to the little winged thing to use as a glass, I don't know. Whatever happens happens.
I havent had this much fun in ages. That is what I call an evening.
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Posted: Fri Aug 12, 2005 9:06 pm
Journal,
The little flower thing changed sometime yesterday. I was watching TV, when I heard Tadriemos chirping madly. I thought he must have gotten hurt, maybe Isaura had finally found his predatory instinct, thinking he was a bird, or something. I jumped up and ran into our room,
I could swear Tadriemos and the thing were having a conversation. The flower bud had opened up to a white inside, and a small thing that looked like a butterfly was curled up on the center. When I looked closer, I saw it was a fairy!
A genuine, honest to goodness fairy! I'm not crazy, it was a tiny person with antennae and butterfly wings, if that isn't a fairy, then I have some serious lack of knowlege of our insect world.
Haku returned and mentioned offhand that he didn't think it was a fairy and the fairy, poor thing, started shrieking at the top of it's little lungs. Tadriemos began shrilly chirping, setting up quite a racket.
"What did you do?" I yelled at Haku, who shrugged;
"I don't know!" He responded, staring at the pair,
"It is a fairy!" I shouted then, and just like that, both of them quieted.
Interesting phenomenon, no? I doubt i'll disbelieve anything ever again.
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Posted: Fri Aug 12, 2005 9:08 pm
Entry sixteen, July 26th, 2005
Dear Journal,
Another child has joined the household, and I truely fear for the poor boy. He came from a children's psychiatric ward where he had been incarcerated since infancy. Doctors have told me that he suffers from paranoia and schitzophrenia, as well as mild autism, but no other diagnosis have been made. They are preforming an experiment, to see if leading a normal life might help his mind self correct itself, with hopes that he'll 'grow out' of the disorders, but he would need a great bit of mental stimulation.
The doctors have told me his name is Caleb, and that he has a twin brother also undergoing the same experiment, named...I forgot what his name was, but they have encouraged correspondance between myself and the guardian of the other child, to compare progress and improvement.
The child does not respond to his name, nor anything else I say to him, it seems, a common occurance with autistic children, he has self destructive compulsive actions, and has picked perfect rings of skin off of his index and ring fingers. Despite this, he seems to be a very bright child, in that within a single evening, he took at least a thousand broken links and made a solid sheet of chain mail. This he then hung on the door, I don't know how he hung it, but it took fifteen minutes for me to get it down, Caleb screaming in laughter the whole time.
With my recent move into the bronze molding, A lot of my work has taken me to the forge nearby, run by friends of mine from high school. Raissen and Hikaro have both refused to look after Caleb while I was gone- Raissen stating he had to go to a workshop for his class and Hika flat out refusing-I had to bring the kid with me. I am yet unsure if it was a mistake.
He seems to delight in watching the ironsmiths at work as they fashion fireplace tools and gates from twisted pieces of black iron heated until they glowed. He's spent hours watching them slam the piece with mallets and mold it into a desired shape. I hate to say it, but he looks like a ghost, all white and thin with a bloodied, trailing dress standing perfectly still in the middle of a forge. Speaking of which, I've tried getting him to change clothes, but he just screams at me until I leave.
While I was preparing a container of bronze for my own mold, a lighter tapping caught my attention. I turned around and there he was, with his own mallet, pounding away at a red hot pole of solid iron. I thought the sparks would ignite him like a torch, so I quickly confiscated the items, and he almost bit me in an attempt to retrieve them.
I took him home without finishing what I went there to do. I'm probably going to regret taking him again tomorrow, unless I can lock him in an office, or something.
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Posted: Fri Aug 12, 2005 9:10 pm
Journal,
Last night I had the most queer dream- I was walking along a wrought iron catwalk, with a cavern with red walls above a tar pit that spit and belched up large yellow bubbles of sulpheric gas. It smelled foul, but unlike my usual dreams, it was completely silent. All I could hear was the sound of my own breath, slow, loud. My steps were silent, the bubbles were silent, nothing stirred the air aside from myself. Looking down, I realized my hands were bound to one another with thick heavy iron shackles.
Inhale-step pause...glance, exhale-step pause...
I was frightened, but could not move faster than if the air were made of a heavy syrup, slowing me, holding me back, but I had to move on. Slowly, long white whisps of string drifted down from the abysmal black ceiling. Looking up, I saw Caleb completely curled up in a cocoon of white silk, the strands were breaking off and drifting down to me. His eyes were closed, he looked asleep.
Inhale.
Luminous haunting green eyes opened, snapped open. Gazing right through me, pinning me to the spot. Lowered on the strands, which I could now make out to be his hair, he decended to me, arms outstretched, and grasped my face, still staring at me with those haunting green eyes. I felt him pulling hard enough to pull my head off, and I screamed, soundlessly, even the sound of my breath stopped.
A vision in white.
Starting awake, that little troll was sitting at the head of my bed, raking his fingernails up the sides of my face. I screamed at him, one, for touching me while I was asleep, two, for coming into my room, three, because his nails hurt four- I can't blame him directly for this, for being in my dream! I could have sworn he was also laughing while he did it. I lifted my pillow and flung it at him as he retreated, fleeing the room. I hadn't realized Tadriemos was sleeping on it, and the poor thing squeaked in suprise as it flew across the room.
Grabbing the errant skegg, I cuddled it to my chest as I stared at the door, wondering if the troll was waiting there, waiting for me to fall asleep. I have never felt such a roiling distrust for anyone before Caleb. He dabbles in dark things I would rather he kept away from me.
I'm going to ask Dian if we can put a lock on either his door or mine.
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Posted: Fri Aug 12, 2005 9:17 pm
Entry Seventeen, August 8th, 2005
Dear Journal,
Raissen graduated from his masseuse classes, and is now working regular hours on the weekends. He says his biggest group of clients are middle aged corporation workers who need a great deal of stress relief for not a great deal of money. He seems to like his job enough, and has begun using the extra money for who knows what. Raissen goes out virtually every night now, and returns home sometime between two and four A.M.
I feel as though he's leading a double life. During the day He's always in pants and a collared shirt, and somehow has taken to wearing glasses. A very smart look if I do say so myself. It rather reminds me of my youth, and I do approve of it much more than the other clothes he wears.
On the nights he goes out, he's a different person. Glasses are replaced by thick dark eyeliner, sweater replaced by a tiny leather bodice (Meant for a woman, mind you) and pants replaced by a thin velvet gypsy skirt, that hangs down around his knees, the bottom trimmed in gold, from each of the tips of the skirt, hangs a bell. He jingles when he walks. I know he bought the bodice and skirt from the rennaissance faire, the last time we were there.
He asks me to lace him.
Black ribbons loop from eyelets on his skirt across his torso, criss crossing several times before hooking onto his bodice, which barely extends beyond his chest. On his arms the ribbons make the same pattern, from where they are wrapped around his fingers to his shoulders.
The lacing doesn't take very long, but it's very distracting for me- trying to loop the ribbons evenly over his bronzed skin, his breathing shifting his skin. I wonder who he goes out with, who he dances with, and I am suddenly very hotly angry, jealous? To know my little Raissen has finally outgrown my petty prude behavior to stretch his wings and explore the world. If the skirt wasn't so damn good looking on him, I'd have told him a long time ago to put it away. But he looks so happy, swaying his hips to a rythmic toll of the bells. I am reminded of a gypsy dancing within the confines of a cathedral, to the haunting voices of the chamber choir echoing above.
Sanctuary.
My hands are shaking as I tie off the ribbons on his bodice, completing his garb. Will he go off now, grind bodies with some unknown figure at a club, spend his money on drinks, will some stranger proposition him for anonymous relations? Would he accept? He's unpredictable, unknown to me now, what goes on under his tantalyzingly spiky red hair, behind those crystal clear blue eyes?
Those eyes are fixed at me, as firely and shining as they were the first day I laid eyes on him. Deciptevely dark they glow with attitude and life, so young and new. My eyes grow blank and old, vague and unseeing the more I mope so.
Dark hands cup my face and his draws in, slowly. At the corner of my mouth he finally lays the kiss, dry and sweet. He smells of a sweet oil and nut I cannot yet identify.
Drawing back, his face is smiling. "Don't worry." He says, before turning away and dissappearing into the night air before me.
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Posted: Fri Aug 12, 2005 9:19 pm
All one could say is- Raissen should have known better. Friday morning, four AM morning to be more specific, the teenager was long overdue to return home. Dian had long ago decided waiting up with dinner wasn't going to do anything, cleaned up, and went to bed. That wasn't exactly true, he was in a recliner, and had been reading a book and fallen asleep in his bedroom. Hikaro and Haku had been asleep since sundown, A'Hallei was also asleep, curled up in white sheets in the corner of the room.
The only resident of the Chegrin household not asleep would be the second oldest child, newly liberated Raissen.
It was much later than Raissen had realized, he being drunk out of his mind. Normally, he wasn't one to overdo it, but this really pretty girl he had met at the club insisted on buying him drink after drink after drink. One thing led to another and they were making out in one of the bathrooms when the club closed for the night.
Raissen had the good sense to call a taxi to take them home. He didn't have the good sense to send the GIRL home. She was with him, hanging on him, fawning. Blonde haired, brown eyed, cute girl. Done up like a doll, wrapped in white lace, she was the angel to his gypsy. Raissen took one of her curls and pulled at it, marvelling at how it bounced back into a perfect ring. He'd never realized how pretty women could be until he himself looked like one.
Stumbling up the front walk together, it became obvious the girl was still at least partially sober. Raissen pitched forward, caught himself, and she burst into giggles. That's how the evening went, this woman laughing at Raissen's drunken bumbling. Truth be told, Rai didn't have high tolerance, so he was much more affected than he should have been.
Before opening the front door, Raissen turned to look at the girl who accompanied him home. She had a beaming smile, and a way of crinkling her nose that was nausiatingly adorable.
"Are you still so certain you're gay?" She asked, idly stroking at his chest.
"Avvter meeting you, I thinnnk ah might be a lezzbeean." Raissen replied, grinning. She just smiled back at him, and pointed at the door.
"Riiiight." Raissen said, fumbling for his keys. Damn Dian always locking the door.
He had meant to be quiet, but as he pushed open the door she pounced on him, and the door flew open, cracking on the wall loudly. Raissen would have cared but the girl's soft body was pushed up against his in a way that was decidedly not innocent. Bracing himself up against the wall, Raissen gripped her about the hips and pressed her into a kiss hungered as though he were a starving man.
She grasped his bodice and pulled him off the wall toward her. Unfortunately, she overestimated his balance, and he stumbled right into her. Both tumbled to the floor and dissolved into giggles and shushes, and more giggles. How did it work out when in the places where one could make as much noise as one wanted, often one had the urge to make no noise at all, and in the times when silence is necessary, a banshee is trapped in your lungs?
The blonde girl sat up, straddling Raissen's narrow velved covered hips. Grinning wickedly, she began to grind against him, watching as his head rolled back, mouth open, mindless. She knew how to turn a man on, how to turn his gears, to pull his whistle, to light his fire, to spark his plug, to spin his dreidel, to knock his boots, to rock his swing, to toss his cat out of the window--you get the idea.
What she didn't know, was that she had awoken his father. Dian stood above them, shaking, positively shaking with barely controlled rage.
"Raissen." Dian began, quietly, "I want her out. Now." Wirey fingers toughened from years of handling solid rock tightened into white knuckled fists.
"Aw whyy? We weren't...not...doingk noothinng." Raissen slurred, looking drowsily at his adoptive father. He squinted, unable to see too far, even less while drunk.
"Pluss, I wanna show 'er how good ave gott-ten with my haaans." Raissen let out a drunken giggle as he gripped her waist. She bounced twice on his crotch, laughing gaily.
"Who is this guy? Your brother?" She asked Raissen, motioning to Dian, who was now just as appaled as furious. "G'way kid, you'll get your turn some other time."
She waved him off, and leaned down to kiss Raissen.
Crack.
The girl fell from atop Raissen, clutching her jaw and crying. One look could tell anyone Dian Chegrin was through ******** around, and having people brush him off.
"I said I want this tramp out of my house!" He snapped before Raissen could interject.
"You hit me! I'll call the cops on you! You'll get arrested for assault!" She shouted at Dian threateningly, but he took one step forward, and she shrank back.
"If you don't get out of my house right now you won't LIVE to call the cops!" he hissed through clenched teeth, muscles quivering. She took the hint and scurried to her feet, fleeing the house.
Raissen looked after her, but as he attempted to regain his landlegs and pursue, he fell forward again onto the floor.
"Wait!" He called weakly, before turning on Dian, "What da hell wassat for?" He shouted angrily.
"Who was she?" Dian demanded, brows furrowed so his eyes were narrowed to slits.
"One off my friens!" Raissen retorted, with a sort of 'duh' attitude.
"Who was she? What was her name?" Dian demanded again.
"I'm nah teellink!" Raissen shouted again, apparently having lost his volume control.
"What was her name? Do you even know!?" He asked again, voice starting to crack.
"YES!" Raissen yelled, "...No..." He admitted then. Sure, she had a pretty face and a cute a**, but he was far too drunk to remember her name, if she even told it to him, that is.
"Can you tell me when you became such a slut!? Or can you not remember that over your drunken state?" Dian said bitterly, tears welling in his eyes. It broke his heart, to see his pet so.
"I'm not d...runk! Don't chu call me a slut neetherr!" Raissen yelled, standing up now, arm on the wall for support.
"I doubt you can recall your own name!" Dian cried then, voice high pitched.
"Rai--Raiszzn!" It sounded kind of like an electrical sizzle. "Yourr just jealouss!" He shouted back.
"Jealous of what!? You've proudly matured into a grade A whore!"
"Yourr juzt MAD that Ahm not chasing yerr skirts! You can't admi-t I'm not a child aneemor!"
"Growing up doesn't mean you should run off and commit fealonies! You might think yourself all mature, but you're still a teenager, and you're still my son!"
"Get out off my way." Raissen growled, attempting to push away Dian. He had a monster headache now from the yelling, as well as a monster boner that would not die. Dian just stood in his way, an immovable block.
"Moov! Get off of my way!" Raissen shouted, pushing mightaly. Dian faltered a step, and Raissen fell on him, tipped over from the force. Dian gripped his shoulders and pushed him back, slamming him up against the ******** YOU!" Raissen hissed, struggling to be free. Dian fought to still him without hurting him, wrestling with the flailing arms and legs with every ounce of stregnth he had. Raissen clipped his jaw with a fist and smashed his side with a knee, but soon both were panting and hot against the wall, Raissen pinned tightly, face inches from ******** me." He said then, but Dian turned up his nose at the reek of alchohol on his breath,
"You're completely drunk, you don't know what you're saying." Dian said, wondering if he could still pin Raissen but clamp a hand over his mouth as well.
"I do, I do! ******** me, Dian!" Raissen cried then, struggling anew. Raissen slipped a hand free and slid it into Dian's pants, gripping him and pushing their hips together. Dian released a low groan of anguish, Raissen didn't know how he tormented him, haunted his waking and sleeping moments with promises Dian knew he could never allow his son to keep. What an a**, to push him away so, but rein him in again with no way to go.
Raissen's body stilled, went limp. Dian blinked and looked at his son. Raissen had passed out suddenly without any warning at all. It was all for the best, though, The ache in his pants told him that if Raissen hadn't stopped demanding sex when he had, no amount of fatherly willpower could have stopped him. Hugging his son's light body, Dian carried Raissen to his bedroom, not even wondering if his other children had awoken.
Laying Raissen down gingerly, Dian looked to Hikaro, who was sitting up in bed, eyes fearful.
"If he vomits, turn him over. Or change his sheets." Dian said, waiting for Hikaro's affirmative nod. Haku somehow was still asleep, probably due to the headphones in his ears. Dian didn't even WANT to know what A'Hallei was doing.
Trudging to the doorway, Dian leaned on it before exiting, and released a shuddering breath. Today he was certain, Raissen must have shortened his lifespan by between five and twenty years.
He was getting too old for this.
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Posted: Thu Aug 18, 2005 2:31 pm
Journal,
Sometimes I think my entire life has been one big mistake. Not just a timeline of botched ideas and poorly executed goals, but as though my entire existance has been wrong in some essential way.
Whenever I think i've hit on an idea, and think for sure I must be right- something swoops down with a giant hammer and smacks me upside the head.
The only one who I haven't messed something up with seems to be this little fairy Haku found. I've named him Mattenklainen, but I don't quite know why. He sits on the windowsill all day, even though the window is open, most of the time. Whenever anyone else comes into the room, he ducks back into his flower, covering up. It's almost as though i'm the only one he'll allow near.
I also...He likes holding onto my finger, it's really cute. Both his tiny hands reach out and grasp onto my finger, and I can lift him up, little wings stretching out. It's been a while since he's let them uncurl and dry, but I've never seen him fly. I wonder if he's too young still.
Matt's really a beautiful fairy, all green and gold. Catzi taught me a little better on how to take care of him, but he just always seems so happy. Even when it rains, and he cannot do anything but look outside, he's always sitting, serenely, on the white petals of the flower he arrived in, waving his antennae to and fro, cute little bug thing.
I wonder if he'll speak as he grows older, or if he'll remain like Tadriemos, making no noise aside from hushed chirps and warbles. Or if he's mute...But I know he's not mute, I heard him scream once before. Maybe he's just a baby, remaining quiet while he's happy, only making noise when he wants something, because he doesn't know how to speak?
"Salutations." I said, wiggling my finger against his tiny torso. Giggles rose to my ears, along with his cute little cherub smile.
"Salutations."
Maybe with five hundred more repetitions, He'll know what it means.
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Posted: Sat Aug 27, 2005 7:52 pm
Entry Eighteen, August 27th, 2005
Dear Journal,
I finally had a bout of working that has ended with me finishing the final piece to the Shiva estate. Mrs. Shiva has paid, in full, for all twelve pieces, and I finally have enough now to finish working on the house. That being said, however, now I must begin looking for a new account, after all, although there aren't many funerial sculpturs left, not many people opt for anything more than a simple engraved tombstone. And with the surging popularity of cremating the deceased, and the lack of graveyard space, well, you get my drift.
I'm fortunate the country club is still buying bronze sculptures, or I'd be out of work. Granted, that would give me more time to spend with the boys, but still...
I know what the lot of us could use, some time off on a retreat somewhere, a secluded oasis where we can spend time together to learn and grow with one another. Our family has always had a 'go off and do your own thing' sort of business, but we've lost the togetherness families are known for.
Yes, actually, I know what I am going to do, I will bring it up with the family tonight at dinner, and see what their thoughts are on it. I think it will be good for us.
I haven't seen much of Hikaro or Haku of late, they both seem to spend most of their time out of doors, Hikaro at the park, Haku at the library, and I'm not talking about the one in our house. Haku has begun loaning out his own books much like a library does, and keeps very good track of which books have gone out to whom, if I do say so myself. I've picked up a couple, and he's already given me notice that in three days, the books would be overdue. I've re rented them, if anyone cares.
Raissen has been rather quiet of late, spending a lot of time with that fairy Matt. I had to go out and buy doll sized clothes for the little thing, and for once I'm glad that all twenty versions of barbie and her enteregue have two hundred accessories apiece to chose from. Matt looks rather dashing now, if I do say so myself, even if the clothes are a mite large for him. Matt has expressed the wish to accompany me the next time I go out to buy clothes for him.
Oh! Catzi has also told me that her son, Ptah and mine have met. I couldn't be happier. Being such good friends Catzi and I are, I was very suprised our boys hadn't met before, but apparently now they're fast friends. Ptah is slightly odd, but in a very good way. I mean his hair is pink, and his eyes are dual colored. It's unique, and very interesting. He also raves quite a bit, but since he works for the security and booking of places, I don't mind so much, he seems like a very responsible youth.
Ach speaking of dinner, I ought to go start it now. I have a new recipe for teryaki'd salmon that sounds killer.
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Posted: Wed Sep 21, 2005 2:40 pm
Entry nineteen, September 21th, 2005
Journal,
Forgive me for a sheer lack of entries within this past month. I apologize, I had lost the journal, but learned a few days ago, Tadriemos had stashed it in a mousehole.
I took the boys on the retreat, as I promised. We went to a lake retreat, out in rural colorado. The weather was nippy, but not foul at all, perfectly beautiful, with the clouds coasting over the sky. The lake, a perfect mirror, was an opposite sky, and as the sun set, a brilliant explosion of color took all of our breaths away. The water rippled only slightly when a trout leapt into the air on a lark, or the steady slow wiggles made by an elk on the opposite shore, dipping his soft muzzle into the water to drink.
In the distance, white peaks tinted a soft grey by the atmosphere granted a secluded backdrop to the camping grounds. The air was a delicious mix of pure mountain air and the slightly minty scent of pine needles. It was also an inspirational masterpiece, one direly needed by me, I was beginning to reach for ideas to sculpt.
Raissen seemed to really enjoy being freed from the fast paced hustle of suburban and city life. Out on the lake, time seems to slow to an endless river that starts at dawn, is marked by high noon, and ends by sundown. Without internet access, or tv, no one had much of a reason to stay up after it got dark. Haku read for an hour or two by flashlight, but eventually settled down.
I had my least stable son stay in a tent with me. Haku and Hikaro both shared a tent, and Raissen bought one for himself. Being so concerned about my newest charge escaping into the night, or going off and drowning himself in the frigid waters of the lake, I was happy to learn he did not object at all to the change in surroundings, nor did he try once to kill me. In fact, he seemed to thrive
out there, darting in and among the shrubbery, digging pits with his claw...things.
They're like cat claws, he can scale a tree straight up the trunk in moments, mere moments. The thing I found oddest was the first evening, the moon was still waxing, almost full, and he ran straight up the tree to a limb no less than sixty feet from the ground and started howling. His words were nearly unintelligible but I swear I heard him scream Samsara, once.
I learned also, Hououza don't take very kindly to the cold. Each one the boys, A'Hallei excluded, were bundled up in turtleneck sweaters. It feels odd to me to write his name that way, but it was as he told me he was to be called. A very suprising set of events indeed.
About the second night we were out camping, the boys decided to start up a campfire, and to tell stories about things that had happened to them that were funny, or maybe a ghost story circle. Plus, we brought ingrediants for smores, and had waited long enough to begin eating them. Huddled around the campfire, we formed a circle, toasting marshmallows on sticks we had found about. As the sun set over the tops of the trees, casting the campsite into shadow, we began telling ghost stories.
Hikaro recounted one he read in a book about a entire town of people, who were posessed by a spirit of the trees. Every so often, a tourist would discover the town and they would proclaim him king of the town, showering him with food, and gifts. Also, any woman he requested sex from had to give it to him without complaint. All would be fine until the second year of this, where they would sacrifice the man to the spirit by stripping him naked and tossing him into the tar pits. It was actually quite frightening.
Haku told about a demonic posession he had researched. The demon was the personification of lust, and usually controlled those who had expressed no such desires before, often children, or holy figures. They suddenly had an uncontrollable and insatiable desire for any and all things highly erotic. Unable to fulfill their desires despite such liasions, they were driven to a point of madness, and ended their own lives, sending the spirit free to find another.
Raissen had begun a story which he said was a dream that he had a while back. During the whole time, we all were sitting around and listening. I hadn't the faintest idea what story I would tell. Raissen still had the memory vived in his mind, and was recounting spectacular detail.
"I was walking along the platform, when I noticed white strings all around me. The were thin, nearly like spider webs, but when I looked up, there was no spider at all, but Caleb-"
"A'Hallei." A'Hallei said suddenly, causing us all to look at him in shock. Never before had he uttered an intelligible sound.
"What?" Raissen asked, staring wide eyed at him.
"A'Hallei. My name is A'Hallei!" He shouted then.
"Okay, whatever, like I was saying..." Raissen was cut off again when A'Hallei stood, and kicked a log into the fire. Cracking loudly, the blaze shot up to at least five feet high, and A'Hallei leapt through it, landing right in front of Raissen. He flipped long hair behind his ears, which I now noticed to be pointed, and said,
"We are watching you, we can see everything."
Just then he let out a shrieking laughter that caused the birds to take flight from the nearby trees.
Just as quickly as he started laughing, he stopped, and realizing how he had burned himself from jumping through the fire, fell over and began crying, clutching his feet.I declared the ghost stories officially over and doused the campfire. Switching on our electric lanterns, I spent damn near an hour bandaging A'Hallei's feet. He fell asleep shortly afterward. Raissen kept a sharp eye on the kid for the rest of the trip.
-To be continued.
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Posted: Mon Oct 10, 2005 9:17 pm
Salutations, my name is Mattenklainen, though I am most often called simply Matt. I am a fairy, one of few still remaining. I live in a house with a man named Chegrin, my friend Raissen, Hika and Haku, two bird people, Tadriemos, a skegg, Isaura the tom cat, Jack the vampire, and A'Hallei the ghost.
I live in Raissen's room, more specifically, the windowsill. The sun is strong only in the mornings, and it is peaceful and warm, I'd rather no other place be my home. Everyone is kind to me, even Audric, the demon. He's kind of cold, and not terribly nice, but he doesn't go out of his way to make anyone suffer. I think he's got an ice cream fetish, though.
Raissen takes me on occation to the place of my birth, though many of the others like me don't like me. They make fun of my green and gold striped hair, and my antennae. I don't know why they dislike me so much, I did nothing to them.
My antennae glow, I love them so much. I cannot understand why adults lose their antennae. If it were up to me, I'd keep mine forever, I don't want to lose mine, they're a part of me. It's like how tadpoles lose their tales when they become frogs. Their tales are shed for the ability to jump. What do I gain for the sacrafice of my antennae? Looking at myself in a broken piece of glass I can see they curl in a kind of spiral, very pretty.
Raissen has given me a tiny tiny lightbulb. When I place my hands on the metal part on the bottom and I concentrate, I can light the bulb, a lovely golden light. I feel almost...Almost like a firefly, blinking the bulb.
I've gone out and gotten some more clothes, courtesy of Chegrin. He tells me I now look like a bartender. I've got a white button up shirt, with a dark green vest, black belt with a gold buckle, and black pants. I got the little arm bands too, that bartenders wear. I am glad my wings phase through my clothes, as otherwise I would have to ruin them to get them to fit.
I tried buying clothes for Audric, too, but he doesn't like to wear any. They itch, he tells me, and they get too hot, but I don't mind at all. I think he's grumpy because he spent so much time alone and in the cold, like a polar bear. I wonder who can warm him up?
The sunlight is cresting over the hills again, another day has begun. It reflects off this tiny brass bell I have that Raissen gave me, and little yellow sparkles dance around the room. I love to dance, dancing like a sparkle of light. Raissen's eyes blink open, and I can see him smile at me, sitting on the windowsill, watching him.
"Salutations." I say,
"Good morning."
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Posted: Sun Oct 16, 2005 8:49 pm
"Salutations." He says to me, and I cant help but smile. Cast in the light, Matt is haloed in orange and golden sparkles, the little bell he holds in his hands sending shimmering dancing lights around the room. He looks happiest now, carefree, sitting in the morning sun. I am reminded of a warm kitchen, sunflowers in a vase, orange tiles beneath my feet, the smell of bread in the oven. I am transported to a place of my youth, before the mansion, before Chegrin, a time when I was carefree like the little fae on my window.
"Good morning." I reply to him, watching his own little face light up. My precious little flowerbud, so trusting, so loving. His hair is tied back in a ponytail with a bow, but only half of his hair is tied back, so his little ears stick out. The rest of his hair falls about his shoulders in a gloriously elegant way. His antennae are almost like little lanterns, golden baubles that hang suspended over his head.
For a short while, we look at each other, not a single negative thought between us. The sun creeps ever higher over the horison, illuminating the woods around our house. The moment is broken as I sit up and stretch. Matt casts his eyes back outside, the day has begun.
A'Hallei, or the troll as I like to call him, has been gone for a few days, now, and Dian is about to tear out his own hair from worry. He's called everyone he knows who knows the troll, and has combed a good section of the forest. I know the little imp is out there, somewhere, taking seclusion in one of the trees, most likely laughing at our ignorance of where he resides. He's gotten bigger, recently, I've noticed, which will make it considerably more difficult to handle him. I just hope he matures a little and realizes what a hassle his behavior is.
I've taken to wearing my tights again, I had stopped for a while, don't know why, but I missed them quite a bit, so now i'm wearing them almost every day. My corset too, is a regular sight. But I usually only wear it when I go out. When i'm at home i'm almost always in a simple turtleneck sweater with slacks and dress shoes, as well as my glasses. I've also stolen quite a few of Dian's vests. I don't think he minds.
I have to go to work this afternoon, so I'll make this entry short.
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Posted: Fri Nov 04, 2005 12:51 am
There are times when nothing seems to matter anymore, when everything just seems pointless, a waste of a finite and rapidly passing lifetime. Any struggle seems an unbearable strain- and thus useless to attempt. You're nothing more than a speck of sand in a wave of dunes, and your presence is unneeded, insigificant, pointless. Without five billion duplicates that share your opinion, what you decide to do doesn't matter. Time slows to a crawl, where each and every second draws on to an eternity, looping endlessly. Like a lava lamp, conciousness floats up and down, merging and fading away, eternally. How then, can you be sure you're still alive? That time still exists, and you're more than some mirror reflection of a better being, doomed to fade from existance as soon as they step away from their reflection?
The steady motion of your chest as unconquerable instincts continue to make you breath- to sustain life- whether or not you want to, you cannot just simply die, it defies the natural order of life, which defies the natural order of the universe, from order to chaos. You cannot simply will the pulse of your heart to end, for the breathing to cease, and for your atoms to simply disperse any more than you can will the earth to stop turning, and you can will the sun to not rise or set, or any other of the damned ways time makes itself known. You become tired from the strain of laying still, the thought of death is a weary thing to maintain, a depressing thing.
Morbid thoughts tend to frighten people and society- humans- so called civilized beings degenerate into the beasts we were born to be just as quickly as fear is struck into their hearts. All thought of reason, and notions such as civility, and nobility, of being upper creatures flee as instinct takes over, that age old will to stay alive. Everything is a damned paradox, an irony and a contradiction that continues to repeat itself just as the world keeps spinning, following the laws of physics: beings at rest tend to stay at rest, until another force disturbs them. We're all slaves to something- it is just a matter of what- of where, and whom. From slaves to desires, of thoughts, of goals, needs, or the laws of physics, we're all bound to the rotting corpses we're born into. From the moment we are created, our cells live and die, little lifespans within the larger organism. It becomes morbid in itself, how we live- which is yet another contradiction. I feel death all around me, stinking rotting stench of death in my lungs, seeping like an oozing pus into my skin- I feel heavy.
And so, laying the way I am now, watching the clouds shift by in the sky, and the bugs, and birds blisfully unaware of their own end spin fitfully in their instincts, the only thing that keeps my mind from thoughts of suicide is the thought of another. A man.
There is a man who inhabits my thoughts now, tall, dark, a shadow of a man who stands stark against waves of whiteness, of people pure of bodies and pure of thoughts. He's slightly sickened by them, and he is tired too, though he wanders endlessly, seeking a place to rest. Why nowhere suits him is beyond himself, but nowhere seems peaceful enough, nowhere of solitude. His fellows are everywhere, having invaded every nook and and hole of livable space, and their progeny have found places to inhabit even the most unlivable of spaces. Each person is allowed a small hexagon of personal space, any more and you're encroaching on someone else's space. Planes and openness are a thing of the past, and yet, when he looks around, all he sees is emptiness, and waves of white. Imbred- the population's minds have been wiped by the few elitests who control the masses like a shephard controlls sheep. Sheep are stupid beasts, they'd stand downhill in a storm until they drowned if no one where there to lead them away. The man once considered himself one of the herding dogs, but those days were long gone- even the dog gets frustrated with the inane quality of sheep. And so he wanders, wanting only to forsake the people who resemble snowflakes, to be alone.
The elitists recognize him- but then again, who wouldn't? He is tall and dark, like a panther, stalking along the alaskan tundrah. The only reason the snowflakes don't notice is because they are sheep, and cannot tell a door from a wall without someone to tell them otherwise. But the elitists know, they've known for some time. As every god fearing society knows, anti conformists are nothing but trouble and evil, and though the wanderer has not caused any harm yet, his mere presence is a spot a smear on their pristine handiwork. There is no rest or respite other than the cold encompassing grip of earth. They must kill him, there is no way he can live, he will not conform or convert. He will get his end at last.
The wanderer is unsure of where he is going, the only way he knows he is moving at all are the black footsteps he leaves behind him, like he was walking in soot before traveling down the windexed world of the snowflakes. Blazing a path not defined by roads or escalators, the wanderer seeks, pained for his place of tranquility.
He has found it. In the middle of a wide expanse of land, out beyond the coasts where the snow congregates, there is a space undesireable by the lot of them. The sun is hot, the fires strong, the bane to snowflakes. The air smells of hewed stone, and of baked souls. Laying out upon the bare marble of the floor, the wanderer strokes calloused hands along, feeling the passion under the floor, like the passion in his own heart, still, but present. Like an underrushing of blood, he has found his home. The smooth rock comforts him, but only while he sleeps. Waking he is confronted with nothing more than a floor, and soon moves on. Inside, into the inner sanctum, there is a statue behind an alter, surrounded by pillars. It is beautiful, and the wanderer thought he might die from joy, if he could remember what such an emotion felt like. Years and years of enduring pain taught him only longing and now, contentment.
He is weeping, crystalline tears streaking down his dirty face, leaving dark smears down his cheeks. Dark grey eyes reminiscent of smoke hidden beneath sooty lashes are heavy with joy and pain. He sought so long to find this place, he weeps, because his journey is over. Shifting feet over each other, he falls onto an ancient relic, leaning his entire weight onto it. It lifts him easily, holds him, cradling his weary form like a mother holding her child, though she is stone and he flesh. He clings to it with dingy hands as though he would never let it go. It is his only salvation, his purpose and now his life. Drained, he falls to the floor, still clinging to the symbol of all that he lived for. Nails darkened with crust embedded immovably within them leave no scratches along the flawless surface. She survived before him, and will survive for aeons after he is gone. Choked sobs wrack the wanderer's frame, and he silently shudders, but tears are no salvation, no repetance. Crimes commited and blood spilled are not washed away by tears.
There is another shadow. Another tall dark figure, with hell in his eyes but ice in his heart. He too has only one purpose in life, though his was much more defined, predetermined at birth by genetics and a quota to be filled. He is an eraser, removing smudges from the pristine project. He needs no relics, nor tears, nor warm marble floors, only eradication.
The wanderer looks up at him, tortured. His eyes plead for the eraser to leave. He is old, at the end of his life already, but he wants to taste the sweet nectar of the fruit of his sucess for as long as possible before his soul flees. The eraser is immovable, fire in his eyes piercing the slate grey orbs of the wanderer. He knows about the quest and triumph, and he smiles in a serene, yet frighteningly sinister way. As he levels the blinding white light to banish the smudge, he begins to speak.
"Wander not, and fear no more..." He speaks in a pure peach voice, soft and fuzzy, and sugar coated over a rough heavily grooved and unforgiving pit. The weapon has charged, and paradise stares right back at the wanderer, peace at last.
"For I am your redemption."
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Raissen sat bolt upright in his bed, covered in a cold film of sweat, shivering slightly. He had been sick all week, and recently fell to a semi concious state in his fever, rendered largely immobile. Profound thoughts came through in his addled and baked mind that made little coherent sense to the fully awake. Looking out, blue eyes sought the moon, bright and white. Raissen shivered, such thoughts were unlike him, and unpleasant- he didn't wish to think like that again. At least now it appeared his fever had broken, though he was very nervous.
Standing, Raissen changed his clothes and swaddled himself with a blanket, heading out to the living room to sit on the chair in the living room. Somehow, the energy from his dream still lingered in the room, dark and foul. It was there that Dian found him the next morning, curled in the recliner. He lifted the sleeping form of his son and brought him into his bedroom, letting him sleep into the late afternoon. Raissen needed it, the poor lad, he seemed so worn down lately, sickness takes such a toll. His soul was so old, wizened beyond his years by circumstances beyond his control. Gentle hands stroked the loved red head of his boy, lifting the blonde streak and letting it drop back down. Whether or not Dian wanted to be, he was a slave to the one resting in his bed, wholly, and eternally.
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Posted: Sun Dec 11, 2005 4:28 am
Catzi Whitten Seagulls barked in the distance, it could not really be called a cry, nor song, a bark was all it really was; snapping and angry. Ptah envisioned two of the white birds going at it, fighting over a bit of food or tail. That?s kinda silly that that?s all they?ve got. he thought and contemplated Raissen?s words. He looked to the other, his face holding the shapes and lines that smiles create, feeling within him his optimism lifting a little once more. Tiliting his head he addressed Rai after a long pause ?What have you never done in your whole life?? his voice was soft and questioning, floating sing song to Raissen in the dusky air, a smile seemingly hidden behind his question. Chegrin There had been a very long pause where neither had said anything. The air was getting progressively more and more chilled as night came in. Fortunately, because this beach was used publically, there were small lanterns that flicked on and illuminated the beach in a hazy orange glow. The onset of night did not quell the battles between the avians however. Raissen's deep blue eyes watched the ocean, denying that he was getting cold. Shoeless and not dressed in layers, Raissen was slowly curling in on himself to keep from shivering. Thoughts shifted through his mind in a miasma, broken only when Ptah's voice found itself again. "What have you never done in your whole life?" Those blue eyes turned to look at Ptah again, marveling at how much older he seemed now. It must be the mood, really. When one was at a rave, they didn't seem old at all. What had he never done? Lots of things. He'd never kissed someone he'd really wanted to. He'd never been out on a date. He'd never spent the night under the stars, or skinny dipped, or had an out of body experience. He'd never meditated, or experimented with mind altering drugs, or even played a simple game of hide and seek. And of course, he'd never had sex, either. But that was reading way too far into the question. Ptah's smile didn't lead him into thinking that was what was meant. Raissen reddened with the thought, and he looked away, so his eyes would not reveal his thoughts. He was devoted, yes. Devoted, damn it! When he'd regained himself, Raissen quietly responded, "I've never...camped out with someone I wasn't related to." was all he could think off to say that would involve he and Ptah and nothing improper. Catzi Whitten Ptah couldn't help it, the blushing, the quite simple pointedly non sexual answer. His face cracked, then his lips split, then a softly chuckle rose into a pinching giggle. He just could not help it. Raissen was officaly, the funniest, cutest dude he had ever met. Mid laugh Ptah spoke. "Sorry" Breath of air "Sorry, I guess I was just to random there. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable." Hidden giggle. "I mean you've most likely got a relationship right now, I didn't mean to make you think I was hitting on you." Ptah's eyes were still aglow, not with malice, but with kindness and joy. He really did just find the whole thing quite funny. Standing and stretching his legs he held out a hand to Rai. "Well listen, why don't we get out of here humm? It's nice here but not exactly camping material. There are some woods near my place, and if you've got some free time why don't we both get out of our houses tonight?" Chegrin Raissen blinked at Ptah as he started giggling at him. Suddenly sheepish, it was obvious that he HAD meant what Raissen doubted, and that made him run ever more red. Oh dear. He was watching Ptah's face completely light up with the laughter and smiled himself, happy to have at least amused his friend for a while. Ptah looked best when he was laughing, the expression just kind of well... suited him better. "No, no, i'm not in a relationship. I just...didn't think you...well..." He let the sentance die as he grasped Ptah's hand and stood up, stretching out, and wincing as icy air shot up his skirt, causing it to jingle once again. "Sure, that's fine with me. I needed some time out, anyway. Dian's such a tightwad, even more so now." Raissen said, stretching out again and grabbing his blanket. "You live near here?" Catzi Whitten The other blushed! Again! Ptah couldn't help but grin Raissen just seemed so, well becoming he guessed the word would be, when he was sheepish and blushing. It just made him want to dance with the boy until he felt comfortable in his own skin. "No, no, i'm not in a relationship. I just...didn't think you...well..."the other stated Didn't think I'd what? he thought worried that his friend might be becoming untrusting. Ptah was just about to comment on that worry when he felt a set of warm fingers grab his hand and a bolt of electricity shock through him. He was stunned in fact to silence and almost became so lost in thought as to lose track of the conversation, almost. "You live near here?" Rai asked, and this time it was Ptah's turn to blush."Well kind of. See it's not that far, but I rode my friend's bike over here and well. We both can ride on it but ..." Sighing he pulled the other up the hill and toward the parking lot. There sitting alone under a light was a triumph motorcycle shinny, and still very new. It's metal gleamed a little in the night, a thin layer of water covering most of it's surface because of it's close proximity to the salty body of water. "See we'd be kinda close the whole way" Ptah turned and smiled at his friend. "And if you keep blushing and I keep laughing we might die." Chegrin No, untrusting was not the word, unless it was untrusting of himself. Yes, Raissen didn't trust himself, it was as simple as that. His own thoughts, emotions, and his own body he didn't have one fragment of trust for. He'd been betrayed by himself before, and so now played it safe, taking timid steps. When he was with Ptah though, he felt, new, and well, he wanted to try new things, and let himself go, if only for a little while. Ptah's confidence seeped into Raissen, and he had faith that the man wouldn't get him hurt, or use him. His blue eyes were laughing as it was Ptah's turn to lose a little bit of self control. The pink of his blush stood out more than Raissen's did, his tanned features a good cover. On Ptah though, it was plain obvious. Even the makeup didn't hide it. Raissen folloed Ptah up the short path to the parking lot, and admired the bike. Add that to another thing he'd never done- ridden on a motorcycle. Raissen chuckled just a little bit, "I'll try to refrain." He said, knowing full well it'd be a struggle not to turn red holding onto Ptah on the open road. "I think if you do the same, we might live long enough to make it home?" Raissen's midnight eyes held confidence in Ptah. Catzi Whitten Ptah laughed and jumped slightly into the air, his hand raised high. "YEAH!" He exclaimed and once again grabbed Rai by the hand. He headed toward the bike at a reasonable speed though, after all it was dark, and he didn't want to get anyone hurt in his excitement. Turning once reaching the bike Ptah took the blanket from Rai's hands and placed it in the small leather saddle bag attached to the bike. He then looked to his companion and grinned finally taking note of the full confidence Rai seemed to hold in Ptah. His pride swelled and he suddenly felt the need to protect that trust, and it's holder, not matter what the cost. Straddling the bike Ptah held out a hand to Raissen dramatically "May I have this ride my kind sir?" Ptah couldn't help it, he was just so happy to be with Rai right now, and the corny line just seemed the flow from him when he was happy. Chegrin Raissen's laugh was lost to the cool night air, as was the faint jingling of his skirt as he was towed along after the candy kid. The walk thankfully wasn't too hot, or he'd had burnt his bare feet, but they were favored that night, the conditions seemed perfect. The corny line just caused his smile to beam ever more. He'd hate to admit it, but corniness was a major weakness, espeially with how heavy his family always was. It was a well appreciated effort. "But of course." Raissen exended his hand and grasped Ptah's, sensually sliding up behind him and straddling the bike as well, careful to not lift his skirt too high and reveal his lacy black underwear. Somewhere in the back of his mind, a thought chimed that he was riding 'b***h'. but he squeltched that thought and wrapped his arms around Ptah's slender torso, lightly nuzzling at a solid shoulderblade as he sought to get comfortable. In all honesty, he was nervous, motorcycles were wild, and on a one on one battle with a car or the road, always lost. "Ready when you are." Catzi Whitten Ptah had to remember to swallow, and breathe. That skirt really left nothing to be imagined and though Ptah was no stranger to sex, or to skin, this was some how different. This some how meant something. He was determined not to screw up his friendship with his only friend outside the raver scene, and more importantly someone so nice and fun. So he remembered to breath, he remembered to turn on the bike and let it warm a minute and let the trusting friend behind him steel himself for the journey. And most of all he remembered to take it fairly slow, and not just with the motorcycle. He turned out of the parking lot with Rai behind him and started toward home. The road was dark and cold, but the world around them seemed to be so alive. The scenic drive was the only way out of the clove of the beach, and it was full of turns and trees. But in it all Ptah found a kind of peace, and the turns seemed like nothing more to him then another rhythm in a dance, flowing and moving with the wind around them. Chegrin Raissen thought on pacing as they sat in silence for a minute, waiting for the bike to warm. The rumble beneath him was like a cat, just waking and releasing an awakening purr. The redhead braced as Ptah revved the cat, tightening his grip slightly. This was it, he thought, do or die. The ride was more smooth than he'd imagined it would be, Ptah expertly handling it like he handled himself, like dancing. Smooth, and fluid, and alive. At first he'd had his eyes closed, but he was shielded from the whipping wind, and opened his eyes to the blur of trees around them. The individual melded together into a wall of green, broken by the occational rock and bare patch, where the moon winked at them for a bare moment before being hidden away again. This close to it all, without an aluminum shield between them, and the outside, it was so much more real. Do. One of the turns was particularly tight, the motorcycle coming frighteningly close to the edge of the road, and it was all Raissen could do to keep from shifting too much on the bike and potentially causing ruin. Instead he just closed his eyes again, his faith in that Ptah knew what he was doing, because Raissen was sure as hell clueless. Don't think, just do.
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