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 Posted: Fri May 15, 2009 9:16 pm
Elst laid back in his reclining chair, one of the few ‘creature comforts’ he’d chosen to furnish his home within the Nursery. It sat, a wooden cottage-like building, in the very middle of the nursery, where the plants had grown to their wildest. Wisteria trees enveloped the house, surrounded in ivy and crawling roses. There was a small, personal herb garden set in a small plot beyond the front porch. The evening was dark, foreboding, looming clouds overwhelming the sky. For now, though, Elst was warm, comfortable in his chair. Aoi slept silently, nuzzled in the long, green robe Elst wore in the evenings. In Elst’s lap sat a plain, leather-bound notebook.
Well, it’s finally time I started keeping track of things. With Aoi here, this Journal’s ready to be put to use… It was the night after Fao had left with his carnival, and Elst felt rather…sad, was it? – about having lost a good friend such as him. He’ll be back, I guess, but that poor girl must be heartbroken to see him leave like that. I… can’t help but think he wouldn’t just ditch her like that, he’s bound to have something up his sleeve, knowing Fao. Anyway, here goes nothing…
He began to write, recording his first encounter with Banning, Longway, and the stone that was once Aoi. He wrote of giving one of his two rare orchids to them, and what it was like to have first given Aoi his purpose. Next came the park, the lovely location in which he’d first met Fao, along with Willis, Sera, and their puppy. Part of him, in a way, yearned to return there, but he knew he would not see them there. Not only was Fao gone, but he’d not spoken to Willis nor Sera ever since that day nearly a week ago. He let out a heavy sigh, careful not to wake his sleeping Essentic. Upon the skyline, clouds rumbled with distant thunder, their dark presence almost… ominous.
He wrote on about Elias, his strange ways, and his strange reaction to Aoi’s emergence. Not that my reaction was anywhere near normal… Then, there was Trystan, and his horrific companion Crux. He would keep careful notes on the duo, but now was not the time. The day after that, he’d met Verdant, the strange nymph who had given Aoi the ribbon he still wore around his neck. He’d gained not only a priceless Amaranth to take care of then, but a new alliance, and a new employee as well. Then… that very night, how Fao had dropped by, the dumbfounded look of untainted adoration upon his face, whom had come for a parting gift for his dear Ellandra. With the last words of the night before, of Fao’s parting, Elst lifted his pen, and closed the journal. Upon his face hung an expression more melancholy than what was typical for him, for Fao’s passion for Ellandra had woken something up from within him.
He hand tightened on the arm of his chair. Love… They all seem to hold it, treasure it, even waste it, yet I haven’t the opportunity. Why have I been denied this? I…struggle to develop it, yet all I receive is a feeling of emptiness… His expression grew strained, almost grievous, but not quite. He looked down at the side of his robe, watching the creature next to him sleep. His face lessened its tension. Aoi was almost like a child to him, a fellow plant…
To the light of the reading lamp next to his chair, Elst closed his eyes, not asleep, but happy.
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Posted: Thu Jun 11, 2009 8:11 pm
The door to Elst's home shut behind him. A busy day it had been, a busy life overall. In the past few days, he'd attended a Ball, met new people, all sorts of fun stuff, but none of it seemed to receive much heed within his mind. The still-proto Aoi rushed through the door, in a much better mood than his owner, singing some song or another, it wasn’t familiar to Elst either way. Oh, he….
Is a subtle,
Misery…
He…
In her eyes the only key...
And she…
Just another
Forgotten face.
In the mind of one…
Who remembers no place.
Her quiet plea…
Oh please,
Just remember me…
Seeds.
Of another memory…The song went on, but was lost to the tall plant hybrid as he sat down in his favorite chair once more, eyes falling on the plain little notebook that lay alone on the table. I guess I should get around to writing again…I hate journals… His mood had been turning a darker shade as of late, his mind dwelling hopelessly on the notions of emotions he could not feel. Rather ironic he couldn’t hear the rest of Aoi’s song as he tuned it out; he hadn’t realized Aoi had written it himself. Aoi knew a little more about his owner’s mood than Elst realized. Lost in mind…
The only of their kind…
Blame…
Another part of Fate’s game…Elst An eventful week or so, I guess. I really should write here more often, but I never seem to be in the mood to. Anyway, Verdant’s employment is going well, he interacts with customers better than I ever could. The amaranth’s practically taken over my bookshelf; I guess I should have seen that coming. Same thing the ivy was doing anyway. Oh, there was a Ball, too, can’t quite remember it all right now, but I’ll write all the details next time if I forget to mention any of them now.
Betrayal leaves in its gait…
Just wait…
All it will be is bait…Elst Met one of Verdant’s friends, Shade, I believe his name was, seemed nice enough, but dreadfully shy. Which reminds me; I invited him over to see the nursery, but never got around to giving him my phone number… that could be a problem. Although, seeing how close Verd seems to be to him, I wouldn’t be surprised if he has Shade’s number already…
Both lost in memory’s haze…
Amnesia’s ever-burning blaze…
Each other will they ever see?
Will he ever remember me?
She…
Why did she leave me?Elst …And then there’s Aoi, the only real light to my life. He’s changed so much lately, he’s next to nothing of what he used to be, behavior wise. I mean, he’s still the nice little Proto I know him to be, but I think he’s using that telepathy of his to get some huge influence from Verdant and Faolan. I mean, he’s so charismatic now. Not to mention he seems to have stolen one of Verdant’s ‘novels’…but I won’t get into that. What’s important is that I think he may hit Alter-dom soon. That is, if he wants his body to change as much as his behavior has... He reclined the sofa-chair back, closing the notebook, placing it on the table once more. Aoi immediately saw the open lap, assuming the notebook’s former place. A place…
In his mind there’s not a trace…
A place…
Of memory for her to trace…Elst frowned slightly; not quite listening to the words, yet the tone seemed to sink into him. What could he remember? A few weeks, maybe months ago? The rest was gone. Like love, human memory was something he could never quite get right. He remembered certain key things, but as for people, they vanished in the mists of his mind the second they exited his life. This was why he kept this journal, mostly, just so he could look back on it, be reminded of those he met. But it killed him, hurt him deep; he could have experienced love in his life before this, met someone who enchanted his soul, but such a memory would never be his to keep. Pain…
The mind’s full moon begins to wane…
All they know of one another…
Is gone, he never loved her…As Elst closed his eyes, the song drew to a close.
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Posted: Sat Jun 20, 2009 2:57 pm
[Major Editing Done]
Time: 11:34 PM
Essentic Stage: Alter
A shattering crash was heard, and two jade eyes appeared in the night as Elst jolted awake. He wasn’t technically sleeping, per say, but as close to it as he could get. He knew that sound. That was the crash, of a terracotta pot, hitting the floor.
The sound of the pot which held the orchid.
Pulse pounding, Elst swung around in the chair he’d been sitting in, facing the doorway. He was a couple rooms down from the kitchen, the room from which he heard the crash. Footsteps, though faint, were audible. His eyes darted to the room’s unused fireplace, and he grabbed the closest fire working tool: the shovel. The poker would have been better, but he hadn’t the time for that. As Aoi stirred next to him, Elst breathed a quick, “Stay here.”, before getting up and slowly walking out the room.
It was pitch black, at least an hour before any sign of the sunrise could be seen. The night held a new moon, meaning nearly no moon at all. He slowly crept towards the end of the hall, knowing that around the corner was the kitchen, and who knows what else. Steadily, he turned, the shovel hidden partially behind his back.
A distinct chchik! was heard, and Elst was looking down the barrel of a revolver-loading pistol. The hammer was drawn back. A man, woman? No way to tell, was dressed in black to match the night, face covered with something indistinguishable, held the gun to Elst’s face. Despite the threat, Elst’s eyes dropped to the back end of the kitchen, where, even in such low light, the tiny sliver of the moon revealed a spattering of dirt, an orchid sprawled in a potential grave of terracotta pieces.
A light, almost inaudible gasp escaped from the plant’s mouth, and as his whole body twitched, the gunman barely had the time to yell, “Drop the goddamn shovel-” Before a sharp thud was heard, followed immediately by gunshot. He had swung the heavy metal shovel, and as the gunman fell, he pumped a single round towards Elst, the .44 slug blasting straight into Elst's chest.
Even though it could not kill him, Elst staggered from the pain. A Talon round, infamous for its ability to expand massively through the body, had, as intended, separated into razor-sharp bands. They'd turned the inside of his chest into mulch without losing velocity, and he could feel each and every slash they made. Only a Magnum revolver had the power to wield these bullets, though Elst didn’t care. He was clueless about guns, especially about things such as, say, how this revolver was automatic, the trigger being able to pull the hammer for the wielder; the gunman only pulled it himself for intent of threat.
A shallow pool of blood leaked out around Elst’s feet; he looked down to see a large, gory gash in the collapsed intruder’s head. He looked then at the shovel he wielded; cast iron, extremely hard, heavy, and sharp. He may have just killed a man. Another, weaker gasp could be heard; it wasn’t due to the intense pain, not due to what he had just done. He had just looked across the room again, and his eyes had once more fallen upon the orchid. The bud lay unopened, delicate lain across the sharp shards of its former home, dirt scattered everywhere. A voice was heard from behind.
“You…get rid of him, let me take care of the orchid.” Elst turned around, to see Aoi framed in the hallway, a near silhouette in the faint, meager moonlight. He opened his mouth to say something, to explain himself, but a projected mental insistence from the Alter told him otherwise. I understand, now get done what must be done. A shocked expression on his face, Elst could no longer speak, even if he wanted to. He grabbed paper towels, setting the shovel haphazardly on the floor. He seemed revolted by the very existence of the weapon, covered in sanguine fluid, even…flecks of white? He found some tape in one of the drawers, panic setting in, adhering the towels to the man’s wound.
Then…another thought set in. His eyes were pulled back to the shovel. In his fragile state of mind, his near delirium, he contemplated. I-if I just get in…just one more swing, he’s no longer a problem, he can’t report this…N-no! No. What am I thinking…I’m too weak for this, I couldn’t do it…my fault… The blend of fury and fright his face once held had melted away, mournful tones now accenting his expression, misery taking over. He truly did not know what he would do without the orchid, if it died… That simple, beautiful flower he’d had forever, it seemed, the flower he’d always felt some, subtle tie to, unbreakable in its strength, undetectable in its purpose. Why do I feel this strange…longing…for it? There’s always something there…making me feel this way…what is it? There was a tier, in his long-forgotten life, something, always waiting for him, something, he’d never remembered…Someone.
The robber, dead or alive, it didn’t matter, was tossed unceremoniously in some alleyway somewhere; how Elst got him there was unknown. The inky blackness of the night likely helped. Did he regret what he had done? Immeasurably so. Did he care more for the orchid? Not even Elst himself knew. All he knew, later on, love or not, was that for some reason, he was shaky, nearly in a full mental breakdown, panicking, miserable.
Until hours later, his Essentic returned, a worse for-wear, but living, potted flower in hand.
And the sun shined again…
Or, so they said.
The tragedy, the memory
All inside his head.
And as he lay down at night,
Warm in his bed.
Not a clue crept in his mind
Of the life they once led…
A thousand years could have passed
Could have been a day
She lied asleep
In memories
Be as it may.
Worlds apart
And yet so close
They never met again.
In this flawed
Little world
Regardless of
What could have been…
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Posted: Fri Jul 10, 2009 2:55 am
Time: 9:38 PMNight had crept upon them once more, it seemed. Elst sat, reclined, in one of his many overstuffed chairs, Aoi asleep on the arm. Elst's eyes were closed. In his lap sat his journal, open to reveal writing half obscured by his hand. A single line could be read. He jolted awake, the drowsy smile he'd held from dreams of a certain Miss Longway slowly fading away, replaced by a simple, smooth frown. Displayed in his eyes were miseries much more complicated. He walked out through the back door, sure not to disturb his sleeping Essentic. He brought his journal along. On the back patio stood an open firepit, never used. After a few minutes, wood was piled in, a little lighter fluid was splashed on, and a match brought forth flame. Two agonized jade irises reflected the fire. Surely enough, that age-old fear crept its way in, terror beginning to course through his veins, but...for this somber occasion, it was ignored. The fire was small. The risk was smaller. The lone plant stood, got closer. Closer. A bolt of agony jarred through his body, and he fell. The journal hit the ground, still open to that same page, the last line now revealed. The screams echoed across what seemed like miles as the fearful met his fear. As the smoke rose. Elst With her, I am complete.
----
I deserve to be broken.
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Posted: Tue Jul 14, 2009 8:49 pm
Two days have passed since Elst's 'accident'.
Time: 9:42 PM.A journal was opened, but not the usual one. Aoi had just returned to his room from another session of healing Elst; the burns ran far past the skin, through his flesh, to the very bone. And the hurt ran far deeper; it wasn't the physical pain that immobilized the plant-man. Either way, the stress had been getting to the flower child, straining his stability, but...then, Verdant and...Orpheus. They paid a visit. Their conversation...Aoi had just finished dressing Elst's burns, that night, and had figured out something about Verdant's grief over a recent loss. They'd begun to talk, and he'd made progress, so many tears were shed, but Verdant would finally stop that horrible habit and... Then, they saw Aoi's own health. He'd let his aesthetics slip, and the deteriation of his well-being was in full view. So, so many tears... Yet, Orpheus, had been there. The tears, they...stopped. Such confusing emotions, only understood in his sleep. A song, sung in his dreams... The Journal was opened, however, and Aoi hurriedly stuffed a single sheet of paper into it, handwritten lyrics covering the page. Simple lines displaying complex emotions, a song within a dream... Aoi Mel-o-dic days...
That lo-ve-ly haze
My heart is set ablaze,
That song that...always plays...
Without you...
Never fail to say...
Every last day...
...be as it may...
This game we seem to play...
Ne-ver without you...
Whyyyyyy
Did this happen...?
Whyyyy
You and...I?
I. Can't. Stand. This...
My. Heart. Demands. This.
I. Can't. Feel. This.
Won. der. ful. Bliss...
Ne-ver to,
Understand it...
For-e-ver to,
Hoooold on...
Absence of the other…
Must stay with each other…
So much closer than a lover,
Tender thoughts, just seem to hoveeeeer…
Without you…
Empty feelings,
Heart reeling,
Tempting to me…
Together to be…
And yet I am…
Without you.
I stay till the end
Stay with you, my friend,
Our music, sets…theee…blend…
And my heart it cannot mend…
Without…you…
A touch sends me flying,
Without you, I’d be dying…
Can’t blame me for trying…
And yet now I am crying…
Without…you…
I-can’t-last-long
Ne-ver, this-strong…
With this blight,
I’m not allllright…
…without…you…
This-can’t-be-right
This-can’t…feel right…
Thiiis isn’t reaaal, right?
I’ll say it with, all my might…
I…love you… And off he went, the journal furrowed away beneath his pillow, Aoi fell asleep once more. The frown that had furrowed his brow, slipped away...
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Posted: Tue Oct 27, 2009 8:15 pm
It had been a beautifully ordinary day, mellow skies, a smattering of clouds drifting lazily about the horizon. Aoi had made the decision, this would be the perfect day for another one of his more intense hikes. A quick bit of permission from Dad, and the keys to the formerly-militant truck that the Nursery now used for deliveries were in his hands. A few bottles of water, a bag of trail mix [which was cultivated fresh from the Nursery itself], a compass…and a menagerie of mundane little items grabbed hither and thither, all set.
He’d spent a minute or two perusing through his closet and dresser, scavenging for appropriate garb, finally settling on a simple, thick pair of cargo shorts, a worn, grey cotton tee shirt, some long socks and rough-terrain-ready boots. He took along a wind-breaker jacket in case the breeze picked up, for good measure. It joined the collection of gear within Aoi’s newly-filled backpack, and he was good to go.
He left the house, heading past the Western Greenhouse along the way, a khaki outfit turned emerald, if only for a minute or two. A plain, large garage was his destination. The thick padlock upon the doors was easily dispatched with the right key. The sturdy transport truck sat in its usual spot; the same, yellowed eyes flared with life when the key was turned, the old man’s joints cracking as the gear shift was set to drive. Time for a little trip.
After leaving the Nursery through the side gate, specially made to fit the truck, a short drive brought Aoi to the outskirts, and the taut rubber and steel muscles stretched in anticipation of the next run. Aoi took it out of drive, and into one of its specialty gears. The run began. Then the next, and the next after that. Soon, the old man was bounding so fast the scenery upon either side was indistinguishable from all around it, blurring into lines streaking past, gone in an instant. This, here…was true exhilaration.
The brake pads screeched their protest as Aoi steadily began to decelerate , nearing his destination. The old man had been out for a long run this time, and he needed to take a rest. The truck came to its stop at the base of a slight, rocky incline; great for novice hiking. Aoi grabbed his pack from the cargo area, and set himself along the path he’d taken so many times before. A long walk was ahead of him, but he considered the view from the grand cliff above was entirely worth it. The view was breathtaking…quite literally because the swift air currents that often accompanied the altitude.
However, Aoi was greeted by a different sight, this time. A lone man, clothes tattered, filthy, stood at cliff’s edge, eerily still. He hardly seemed to breathe, this strange figure. His skin was pale, despite the deep tan the bright sun should have granted. As Aoi approached, he seemed not to notice. Aoi, curious, allowed his telepathy to spread, branch out, root into the man’s mind…and all in an instant, he was assaulted at all sides, horrific desperation tearing away at his reserves. The darkest depths of mankind resided within this man…and he was going to jump.
Aoi realized this all, in one dire moment, and immediately began sapping away at the man’s pain, taking as much as he could bear to take into himself. A gaping sinkhole of misery took root the instant he did. He ran to the man, talked to him, said you don’t have to do this, you can have a life, you can-
But, even as he tried to help, the man shook his head, a tear or two welling in his eyes, detaching to fall down to oblivion. He watched them fall…and his body soon joined them. Before Aoi could stop him, he stepped forward, falling off the edge. His body plummeted…and Aoi was still fully connected to his mind. He felt all the man felt in his last few seconds of life, the isolation, the remorse, the wallowing regret of a life unknown, every misery a human could possibly experience…until there was a single, half-instant of excruciating pain, and all was silent. The flower child fell to his knees, complexion ghastly pale, and his own tears joined the man below as the tanned soil at cliff’s edge was slowly stained scarlet.
This was not the gentle mourning of the loss of those one loves. These were not quiet tears. These were the wretched, violent screams of one who experienced the greatest pains of a human life, felt death without the all-ending numbness that salvaged sanity as sobs coursed writhing pain through his trembling form.
Hours later he returned home, only for long enough to convince Elst he was fine. He wore a practiced façade of everything is alright. I didn’t just experience an entire life of agony in an instant, and didn’t just feel its end. He’d learned from times past just what clued people in to your sadness, and hid it all. A short while after, he left again, and another drive found him standing at cliff’s edge, eerily still. He hardly seemed to breathe, this strange figure. His skin was pale, devoid of the tan that the day’s sun should have granted. He didn’t even notice when the occasional lizard made its approach.
His nightmares were haunted by the image of a cliff's base stained crimson.
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