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 Posted: Tue Oct 19, 2010 5:33 pm
 Chivalry is Dead
In the weeks that followed Alexandros and Hector's unexpected dive into the nightmare land of Tartaros, Johnny King moved from day to day like a ghost. Between guard duty and youma patrol it was lucky that school had been shut down; he would have flunked out in a heartbeat. The green haired teen was entirely consumed by the blonde drug addict that houses his Prince and the angry brunette that had somehow become his brother. Their life was his life, their sleep his sleep.
Every day was the same. He woke early and walked the street in front of the hospital until visiting hours. It was seventy-three steps to one street corner and a hundred and eight to the other. He could walk the street in his sleep. Sometimes Corinna was there, too dignified to resort to the kind of restless pacing that kept Johnny sane. She wasn't the only one waiting there either; loved ones, relatives, even lovers of those trapped in the "unsolvable coma" hovered near the entrance until they were allowed inside. The crowd had started to dwindle as time went on, but even in the third week Johnny remained nameless in a sea of mourners.
Dylan's dad recognized him by now, as did a few of Jesse's relatives. They'd stopped exchanging greets after the tenth day; it seemed rather pointless. Dylan's father, like many of the parents, had descended into the kind of hopeless despair that came with a terminally ill child. He didn't speak to Johnny, hardly even acknowledged him in the final days, but the green-haired teen had decided it was better that way. He never lingered long when the older man was there. Only Corinna seemed willing to brave the palpable sadness that came with him. Jesse's family wasn't much better but at least their visits were more infrequently. Johnny could spend hours at a time perched on the other cavalier's bed, alternating between threatening him with horrible 80s music and begging him to come back. Nothing seemed to work, however, and time stretched into infinity.
Come eight o'clock the nurses would escort him out at the end of visiting hours. Sometimes he walked Corinna home, sometimes they parted ways in silence. If he was lucky some roving Negaverse or angered youma would get in his way and he'd have a moments break in the monotony. Laocoon counted his victories to brag to Hector; Johnny relishes in the temporary escape. Eventually he'd make it back to the dorms, passing through mirrors to avoid getting caught by other civilians. Not like it would have mattered. Nobody was waiting up for him. He would pause only enough to kick off his shoes before flopping into bed. No matter how exhausted he was sleep brought no reprieve. His dreams alternated between accusations and triumphs, horrors and sanctuary. Most nights he curled up under the sheets and watched Sherlock Holmes until his eyes couldn't stay open any longer and he drifted into oblivion.
Every day was the same. Wake up, visit hospital, return home, pray that that one day this nightmare would end. Rinse, repeat. His world revolved around two small hospital beds. He started measuring time by the coming and going of hospital staff, by the changing of the small calendar on the front desk.
And then everything changed.
The day had started normally. He'd put his feet in the same spots on the pavement, walked twelve times in both directions as per usual before he'd been let into the hospital. He'd walked the same path home, gone through the mirror in the McDonald's bathroom two blocks from the hospital. The only change in his routine was that a Hercule Poirot special was on TV and he'd forgone Sherlock Holmes and watched that instead. Somewhere between the detective's grand expose and the point where Johnny's eyelids became too heavy to hold it happened. An inward breath, meant to be expelled in a sleepy sigh suddenly caught in his throat as pain exploded in his heart. As quickly as it had come the pain was gone, leaving behind an unfathomable feeling of loss. Gone. In a single instant the cavalier's life came down around him and it was all he could do to remember how to breathe. Gone. He was gone. Alexandros was gone.It was impossible to think, to do anything but burry himself under the covers and pretend the onslaught of disbeliefhorrorshamegrief wasn't real. Inside his head – no, more than that, inside his soul – Laocoon howled for revenge, for retribution, for anything that would make their Prince's death worthwhile. But there was nothing.
At four o'clock in the morning Johnny had managed to haul himself upright, aided by the plethora of blankets wrapped around his body. Through sleep deprived, tear blurred eyes he watched with an odd sense of detachment as a joyous doctor informed the news reporter that a miracle had happened. All over the city people were waking from their Tartaros-induced sleep to be greeted by their gleeful, sobbing relatives. It should have been heart warming. It should have appealed to his sense of justice. The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few.
But all Johnny felt was empty.
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Posted: Tue Oct 19, 2010 5:40 pm
Flowers for a Ghost
Destiny City recovered remarkably well from the mystical events that had nearly destroyed it. Those who had woken from the nightmare realm were sent home within days, doctors astounded by their speedy recovery. Jada had been one of those who "miraculously bounced back." Johnny made sure to send her a single daisy and a get well card to her room. He would have delivered it in person but the thought of returning to his old haunt made him sick. They hadn't released a list of the dead but the cavalier didn't need one to know he shouldn't wait for a call from his Captain. Whatever had killed Alexandros had taken his brother with it. Laocoon liked to imagine it had been some kind of epic battle in the depths of Tartaros, Hector defending their prince to the very end. It didn't make the ache any less, however, pretending it was an honourable death. Death was still death. They were never coming back.
Johnny had searched endlessly for the time date of his fellow cavaliers' funerals but had chickened out at the last minute. He'd simply stood outside the church for Dylan's and watched Jesse's from the cemetery fence, half-hidden by the overgrown grass. The teen had told himself that he just didn't want to look like and idiot standing in amongst the friends and relatives of the deceased. Truthfully, he couldn't stand the thought of watching them burry the only other members of his court. Cavaliers weren't supposed to watch their Princes and Captains buried. They were supposed to die first. But Hector had never understood that. Hector always had to be the first to charge into battle, leading his cavaliers into the fray without a moment's hesitation. Hector, who would never ask them for anything he wouldn't ask himself. Hector, who was lying six feet underground, miles away from where his brother was buried and there wasn't a damn thing Laocoon could do about it.
It took him almost a month to work up the courage to visit their graves. Even then he'd done it in the middle of the night, creeping through the graveyard like some sick grave robber, but at least nobody would see him. His cowardice appalled him. Hector would have been appalled. But Hector was dead and the b*****d could rot in hell for what he'd done. They were supposed to be friends, brothers even, and brothers don't leave brothers stuck on the wrong side of the mirror with no way home (Johnny had definitely graduated from the denial stage and moved fully into anger). Laocoon had tried everything short of impaling himself on his own sword to get home but to no avail. Calling on Nehelenia had done little to help his cause either. Either the Queen was dead or the Queen was out, but whatever the reason she wasn't answering house calls. The only other parallel he'd been able to get in contact with had been Ares, the senshi of smoke. It appeared they were the last of their kind.
For a while life went on. School started again and Johnny fell back into his old routine. He attended his classes, did his homework, visited the chess club, and consumed well over the healthy amount of sugar for an eighteen year old boy. It should have been easy to pretend like nothing had happened, that his time under Alexandros had just been a nice dream that was long overdue for an ending. But the normalcy was stifling and everywhere he turned he saw the ghosts of his "dream." In the span of a week it felt like the population of blonde boys exploded. Everywhere he looked he could have sworn he caught glimpses of Dylan, flashes of the boy he'd come to know as his prince. He'd called after one such boy once and felt incredibly stupid afterwards. It wasn't Dylan. It wasn't going to be Dylan. The boy wasn't going to magically appear out of nowhere wearing a crooked party hat, blowing a whistle and yelling "surprise!"
He didn't see Jesse as often. Sometimes he'd see boys in Hillworth uniforms walking by and feel a spark of hope. It extinguished nearly as fast as it arrived. None of them were ever Hector. He had to force himself to stare at the cafeteria floor during meal times so he didn't gaze longingly at the door, waiting for a certain angry brunette to come barging in and demand his lunch money. (Jesse had never done that but Johnny had always thought he had the potential). It was a pitiful existence, but it was the only one the green-haired teen knew how to live. The anger stage apparently didn't last nearly as long as the denial one.
Eventually he came to one very sombre conclusion: If he wanted to be happy he had to stop being Laocoon. He had to go back to being Johnny King, a normal boy with dreams of going to law school or maybe even becoming a police officer or a detective. A boy who couldn't wield a sword, couldn't walk through mirrors, and who most certainly didn't look dashing in a cape. It was time for Johnny to hang up the proverbial bat cape and walk away.
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Posted: Wed Oct 27, 2010 1:15 pm
 Against the Wall - Sailor AresAn unexpected confrontation results in a battle of wills and the final uniting of two of the last members of the Parallel Court. (FIN)
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Posted: Wed Oct 27, 2010 1:17 pm
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Posted: Mon Nov 01, 2010 11:32 am
Night of the Crimson Moon
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Posted: Mon Nov 01, 2010 11:35 am
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Posted: Thu Nov 04, 2010 7:16 pm
Skinned Tom - Sailor GunnSparks fly when Laocoon and Sailor Gunn meet up with a creeper in the park. Thank god for flammable mace. (FIN)
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Posted: Thu Nov 04, 2010 7:17 pm
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Posted: Sun Nov 07, 2010 9:01 pm
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Posted: Mon Nov 15, 2010 6:43 pm
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Posted: Tue Nov 16, 2010 8:15 am
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Posted: Tue Dec 07, 2010 6:19 pm
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Posted: Tue Dec 07, 2010 6:44 pm
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Posted: Tue Dec 07, 2010 7:43 pm
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