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 Posted: Tue Jun 20, 2006 8:47 pm
~General Grumpyness on Mehiyal's Part~
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Posted: Wed Aug 23, 2006 11:37 am
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Posted: Wed Aug 23, 2006 11:59 am
"Mehiyal, will you please just try them on?" Nima pleaded with her son, holding out a pair of shorts and a button up shirt, Mehiyal's new school uniform. The outfit was a complete 180 from what Mehiyal normally wore and he hated it on sight.
"No," he said flatly. "Why do I have to wear them anyway?" he asked in a snappish tone.
Nima gritted her teeth. Even before that day in the park Mehiyal had been getting rude and testy. Afterward he'd just gotten worse. What happened to that sweet quiet polite boy? And would he ever be back? "Because," she said, taking a deep breath,"the first day of school is tomorrow. You can't wear your normal clothes there."
"Well, why not? He may have gotten ruder and more arrogant, but he still wasn't any louder. At least somethings stayed the same. "And why do I have to go to school anyway? He kicked his new bookbag over irritably.
"Because this is the uniform. And if you wear your normal clothes, then everyone will think you're a girl. Do you want them to call you a girl?" Nima set the clothes on the bed and picked up the bag. "And you have to go to school. It's kind of the law loveh."
"I still don't want to go. Can't you homeschool me like Que?" he asked sullenly, his mouth set into a grimace. The thought of being around so many people, so many strangers made his skin crawl.
Nima shook her head. "I'm only homeschooling her because she's so tiny. I can't homeschool you too." Which was true. With the egg showing up, Arila still being a toddler, her own studies, and work, she barely had enough time to homeschool Querna. "You might even like it." Mehiyal shot her a glare that told her he didn't believe that. "At least you'll meet new people, right? They might be better than your 'cousins.'" He didn't say anything and she went on. "You'll learn alot of new things. Things I couldn't teach you if you stayed at home. Give it a shot, okay?"
"...fine..." he said, grabbing the clothes. His mother was not going to be moved from this apparently. And the thought of anyone better than Darek got him halfway convinced. He wouldn't like it at all, but he'd tolerate it. Just so long as no one called him Mehi...
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Posted: Wed Oct 25, 2006 3:38 pm
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Posted: Wed Oct 25, 2006 3:40 pm
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Posted: Wed Oct 25, 2006 3:41 pm
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Posted: Wed Oct 25, 2006 3:42 pm
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Posted: Tue Feb 06, 2007 1:26 pm
Mehiyal had gotten his wish. He didn't have to go to school with those...children. Of course, it was rather hard to go to the first grade when you looked fourteen. A tall fourtreen at that. As soon as he'd grown, Nima had pulled him out of school and started homeschooling him. "Even if you look older, you don't know enough to go to high school. Or middle school for that matter," she'd said.
So the past few months had been a rather intense catch-up. And a lonely one. He hadn't quite realized how quiet it got in a large house with no one in it. There were the littlest children, who played among themselves. Keda, whom he had distanced himself from without meaning to. His mother, taking care of the little ones and doing her own strange work. The pets. Everyone else was at school and clubs and sports most of the day.
He still didn't like most of his siblings. That hadn't changed. But he'd realized how alone he was. How silent the house got without the other's playing and shouting and just being alive day to day. It left him with alot of time to study and think in peace. And dream, there was so much time and quiet to dream. But he felt like something was missing.
Mehiyal plunked his chair back onto all four legs. The cheap plastic pen in his mouth was already halfway chewed. Mother had stopped letting him have her nicer quills and pens as he tended to destroy them when his mind when wandering. A pile of worksheets lay to one side of the table, with a barely-started one in front of him.
Even if he studied straight through the summer, he wouldn't be ready for high school the next fall. And who was to say he wouldn't grow suddently again in the interm. But Nimaina was determined that he get his education, at least get a GED. Eventually. The longer he stared at the worksheet, the numbers and sines and cosines, the more he felt the need to get out. He'd had enough of quiet for the time being.
Tossing the pen into a pile of ones like it, he got ready to enter the frigid air.
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Posted: Tue Feb 06, 2007 2:59 pm
Mehiyal stood outside the gates, watching the children file back into the school. It was just warm enough to have recess outside apparently. He turned the collar of his coat up as high as he could trying to cover his ears. The stocking-cap he'd worn kept popping off, his hair being too curly to keep down apparently. Floating from one arm was his dreamcatcher, his "focus" to quote his mother.
A few of the kids glanced back at him warily before he realized how disturbing he must look. Long black coat, collar hiding most of his face, the odd cord hanging away from him. No wonder they looked scared. He recognized a few from his class, his old class. The ones that had seen him gave him blank puzzled looks. Apparently they didn't recognize him grown up.
Why he'd come here of all places, he wasn't sure. But as the last uniformed child disappeared through the doors, he felt just as lonely. Perhaps he thought they'd recognize him. That they'd talk to him. Even though he'd never given them the time of day before...
"'Ey! Watchoo think yer doin!" came a loud shout from behind him. Mehiyal turned slightly to see a trio of burly teenagers. They came complete with designer bandanas, puffy black jackets, wifebeaters, artistically ripped cargoes, and fake bling. "Posers," he thought to himself, dismissing them immediately.
"Donchoo look away frimme prettyboy!" The apparent leader of the three shoved him, hard. Mehiyal staggered a bit before righting himself and dusting off his shoulder. "Thiser's our turf punk," the leader said, coming nose to nose to Mehiyal. He smelled of bad beer, smoke, sweat, and too many fastfood meals.
Any other day, Mehiyal would have ignored them, walked away, or done something similarly non-confrentational. Maybe it was the smell. The butchering of the English language. For whatever reason, it got his back up. He looked back into the leader's murky brown eyes. "An elementary school as your 'turf?'" he asked softly. "Impressive. How many third grade girls did you need to beat up to manage that?"
The leader's eyes nearly popped out as he grimaced in rage. The other two rushed forward, large fists clenched and ready to swing. The leader held them back, but Mehiyal could hear his knuckles cracking in what was supposed to be a dramatic manner. "Tough talk fera stick kid like jou. Mijust get broke talkin like tha Twiggy."
Mehiyal rolled his eyes at the pathetic, cliche quality of the conversation. Maybe he should have just left. The part that had gotten riled just couldn't shut up though. "Oh very nice. Do you make up your own comebacks, or do you beat up kids for those too? They're well above my initial impression of your intellegence. Not that that's saying much."
The leader's mouth pursed, his nose wrinkled, and his eyebrows nearly hit his bandana. "Thassit Twiggy, yer dead!" He rushed Mehiyal, looking only slightly more threatening than a bag of lard. Mehi moved out of the way. Bag of lard or no, he didn't relish the idea of getting hit by some truant.
In a freak of chance the leader crashed into the focus's cord, the dreamcatcher whirling around to hit him in the head. "Whathfook!" He grabbed the offending object. "Whathfook is this fruity shiiii..." the teen's voice trailed off as the dreamcatcher seemed to glow. Within seconds he was in a deep, if troubled, sleep.
Mehiyal blinked in surprise. "Well that's new..." he murmured as the other two looked on in fear.
"Whathehell d'ou do t'Spike?" one of them screamed, advancing on Mehiyal.
The Tale snorted and reeled in the focus and held it up in front of himself. The bully took one look at it before stumbling back. He looked from the dreamcatcher, to "Spike," and back to the dreamcatcher. Apparently getting knocked out before throwing one punch wasn't in his idea of a good time. He ran off, leaving his buddy to pick up the leader.
Mehiyal leaned against the cold fence, feeling lightheaded with relief and elation. He'd come out unscathed, with an odd mystery to ponder. He held up the focus, still lightheaded. As he looked at the interlocking strings, they blurred together. They swirled into a bright point, surrounded by dark, with a sick rainbow of colors behind. Everything kept swirling into a kalidescope of shapes. Then it all turned into a cold clear blue as he collapsed. The blue hung on for a moment before disappearing in gray, then even the gray got lost in the black.
On the ground beside him, the dreamcatcher glowed a warm gold like a guiding candle.
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Posted: Mon Jul 28, 2008 6:34 pm
Dr. Mathis sipped his coffee before reaching for the day's charts. He was sure of it. The good days rarely happened at the hospital but he had a feeling about today.
Or maybe not, he thought as he saw the emaciated redhead striding through the door. No, it was going to be one of those days. He sighed and set both charts and coffee on the front desk. Might as well bite the bullet. "Miss Sekan," he said smoothly. He tried to make his expression pleasant, or failing that, bland. "While it's always a pleasure to see you, I must ask that you leave your...items with the front desk." He indicated the bulging messenger bag at her waist with one stubby-fingered hand.
The petite woman just glared up at him, clutching the bag's strap. "You can't stop me from seeing him."
Dr. Mathis sighed inwardly and looked down at her. No, not emaciated, not anymore. But much too thin under the shirt and he could tell her jeans were only held up by notching the belt tight. He'd almost had her admitted to the hospital half a dozen times for the way she was obviously abusing her body. But truth to tell, he couldn't stand being around her more than necessary.
"Nor do I wish to Miss Sekan," he replied calmly. "However, I can stop you from attempting your voodoo within this hospital."
"It. Is. Not. Voodoo," she said between clenched teeth. "It's. Magic. How can you live on Gaia and not believe in magic? I am an Adept-class mage with healing abilities. I can bring him out of that coma if you'd just let me try! He's my son and you won't let me do what I can to help him!"
"Ma'am, please keep your voice down," he said sternly. "This is a hospital." The doctor looked at her with pity. Anorexic and delusional. Why would anyone let her become a parent? She wasn't the boy's natural mother, unless she gave birth to him at ten. So who in the world would let her adopt a child, any child? "I have seen no evidence to prove the magic exists. And I doubt you could show me any now." He noted her hands clenching as she glared at him with furious blue eyes. Dr. Mathis smiled forcefully. "If you would please, leave your bad with the receptionist. I assure you, everything will be in order when you retrieve it." Not that it would matter. Perhaps taking some of her "tools" would break through her delusions.
She set her jaw and glared at him another moment before huffing and thrusting the bag at the receptionist. Dr. Mathis remained smiling until she turned away down the corridor. Relieved, he picked up his lukewarm coffee and went back to the charts.
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Posted: Mon Jul 28, 2008 6:36 pm
Nima breathed deeply and looked back down the corridor, making sure that prig of a doctor wasn't following. No, he was contentedly drinking his coffee, apparently satisfied that she wasn't his problem for the moment. Maybe it was spiteful, but she lowered the temperature of the water in his drink so it would be ice cold with the next sip. His grimace of distate was enough. She walked on.
She reached into her pocket and fingered the length of cord there. Fortunately, the warm glow hadn't shown through the fabric. She didn't need those items in her bag for what she had in mind. Oh, they would be nice to have and would certainly make this attempt easier, but she didn't need them. Hadn't needed as many tools since she became an Adept.
An elevator shared with a male nurse, a pregnant couple, and a worried elderly man took her to the floor she needed. Down another hallway, and there was room 417. Nimaina walked in and sat down next to the bed. There was Mehiyal, looking much like he did the day he collapsed. Perhaps a little paler, but that was hard to tell with his skintone. It was still odd to see him in a hospital gown with tubes stretching out of his arms. At least the gown was in his favorite color.
Nima pulled out the length of cord. It was still glowing, golden and soft. Warm, and not by being near her skin. The doctors told her after six months he wasn't likely to wake up. Told her over and over, everytime she visited, multiple times each visit. She knew what they said. How could she not after so much repetition. But she hadn't believed them. Disbelief didn't mean they had to keep saying it.
But after a little while, she hadn't had much hope. What she could do to help him, she needed no interruptions for. She'd have needed quiet she couldn't have, equipment they wouldn't allow her. Not in this sanctity of modern science and modern medicine. Magic and hope didn't have a place, at least not on this floor. But three days ago, a thread of Mehiyal's dream catcher started glowing. Then another, and another, making a path within the circle. Two days ago, it had been everything but the long cord shining with golden warmth. And yesterday, all of the dream catcher shined, from the soft dusty feathers, to the knotted end of cord.
She'd spent the last four days pouring over textbooks, studying a type of magic she knew so little of, but that was integral to Mehiyal's being. Arilin brought her every book he could think of, finding books in archaic languages she hadn't thought of, hoping to help her find a key. The spell they had come up with was....inelegant at best. A good bit of healing, a dash of water magic to break down barriers, some dream walking. And that cord to bind it all together.
Nima held the cord and Mehiyal's limp hand in one of hers. With the other she wrote sigils on the back of his hand, making a glow that sank into his skin before the eye could spot them. She murmured under her breath for the last fourth of the spell, closing her eyes so that anyone glancing in would merely see a concerned parent praying for her child. Only five minutes and it was done. She held his hand tightly in both of his, hoping that this would work.
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Posted: Mon Jul 28, 2008 6:41 pm
She found herself on a tightrope. Ribbons of pastel mist swirled around her, teasing with passing dreams. Above her, gray mist. Below her, a frightening drop into bottomless black. Only tightrope she was on glowed, gold and warm. Except...it wasn't a tightrope. The rope was interconnected with others, stretching out like a web. It was hard to tell from her angle, but she thought it turned into a spiral. Peering through the darkness, she could barely make out a huge ring around the web. A dreamcatcher. Mehiyal's dream catcher.
Nimaina breathed deep and even. This was part of the spell. She'd put it in motion, she would have to finish it. Taking shaky steps, she walked long the ropes, following the same path the light had taken on Mehiyal's dreamcatcher days before, to the best of her memory. Thrice, she made a misstep, one time slipping off the rope. She barely kept herself from falling into the by hanging on with her arms. Get back on the rope took more acrobatics than she thought she was capable of. Apparently her body here was a good bit more capable than her body elsewhere.
She made it to the ring and tried to step onto the cord, but her foot wouldn't land on it. Each time she tried, it just slipped away. "Making me do this the hard way, no shortcuts?" She sighed, and walked around the ring. She got back to the cord; now it let her on. The cord was wider at least, but long and winding. Long before she got to the end, she was exhausted and ready for this trip to....wherever this was to be over.
Finally, after hours of walking, there was the knotted end. Standing a few yards away, looking at the knot suspiciously, was Mehiyal. He looked up, but there was no recognition in his eyes.
"Mehiyal...?" she called. No response. "Mehiyal!" Still nothing. "MEHIYAL!" she yelled, using her best parental wrath voice. He jerked and sense seemed to fill his eyes. "Mo-mother?" He did a double take, and looked around as if to assure himself of something. "I'm...still in dreams. Why are you here?"
"Mehiyal..." she said slowly, "You've been asleep for a year and a half. I've come to take you home."
"That long?" The teen shook his head. "I meant to come back, but the dreams....too fascinating. And then I couldn't find the web."
"It's your dreamcatcher. Your way back to the waking world." Nimaina held out her hand. "Come on. I'll show you the way home."
He stepped forward a few paces, then stopped. "I...I don't know if I want to go back." He grinned at her, looking happier than she'd ever seen him. "You have no idea Mother. These aren't just my dreams," he gestured to the misty ribbons. "They're everyone's. And some...are so fantastic. Besides," he turned to her. "You're here now. You could visit me or even stay! I could show you everybody's dreams."
Nimaina shook her head, straining to reach her hand out. "I can't Mehiyal. I can't stay here. Seung, Tentei, everyone back home still needs me and misses you. And even if I visited, I can't step off the dreamcatcher." She looked down at the black and shuddered. "I slipped off the webbing getting here. And I nearly fell into....that."
"Nightmares," he said softly, his face falling. He covered his eyes with one long hand, hugging himself with the other arm. "I still don't know if I want to go back. It's been so long...and what's there for me."
"Your family. Friends you can make. Reality," she replied desperatly, trying to keep the pleading note out of her voice.
He shot her a sharp look. "This place isn't physical Mother, but it's still real. Probably more real than there." He sighed and brushed his hand against a ribbon. "Anyway, I know more about the dreams than the waking world."
She lowered her hand a little. This close, and she was going to lose him after all. "Can....can you really understand the dream without knowing what makes them? Who makes them?" He looked at her again, his face more open than a moment before and a bit...pained. "Mehiyal, I got here. I can teach you the way here and back. You can have both worlds then."
His shoulders slumped, then he gave her a rueful grin....and stepped closer. "If I can't," he said, wrapping his hand around his, "I'll be cross with you."
"And then I'll ground you if you get to snippy about it." She held his long fingers and invoked the last part of the spell.
Mehiyal's fingers twitched. Nima opened her eyes. The hospital. Tubes out of his arm. The plain hospital gown. But his eyes were opening. They quickly shut and he pulled his hand away to shade them. "Ow. I think I have a headache...." He blinked rapidly and started trying to sit up. Nima blinked as well, trying to keep from crying.
A moment later, Mehiyal was sitting up, rubbing one temple. Nimaina had reclaimed his hand and lost the battle not to cry. Dr. Mathis walked by, then walked backwards to the doorway. He stared, his jaw opening and closing in an attempt to speak. "How...." he finally managed.
Nima glanced back and wiped away a tear. "Still don't believe in magic?"
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