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Dangerous Conversationalist
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 Posted: Tue Apr 06, 2010 9:10 pm
Basil did not inherently lean one way or another when it came to acts of bold-faced heroism or rampant destruction. Rather, he was a third party that would engage in whichever seemed appropriate to his needs. He felt that the large metal beast -which only later became illuminated as a means of transport- had provoked him, and he was obligated to retaliate. After all, he had already suffered one wound tonight! Who was he to say he could have just out-run the blasted thing? Whether or not people snickered or gawked or screamed was irrelevant. It was nothing short of white noise to his ears and perhaps that was for the better. There was a sense of honor perhaps in living such an audacious life, driven by acts of reckless and madcap truism. But apparently, this was not one of those times.
In a quick bustle of arm-snatching and chastising, Basil and the Red One entered the very belly of the beast. From within, it certainly started to look more like a car than Basil had initially realized. Suddenly he felt very remorseful... Not for any particular reason that he could understand, but it just seemed the suitable frame of mind when seated by a rather angry and formidable Raevan. To the immature cobra, he couldn't rightly understand why the Red One insisted on keeping him so closeby and dragging him around, when thus far he had regarded him with nothing less than revulsion, fright, confusion, and frustration. Either he was a classic masochist or he was more confused than Basil was... It didn't quite occur to him for the Older One to be driven by some sense of moral obligation to see him to safety.
As far as his defective and sensitive mind could procure, what had seemed to be a kindly rescue mission in the black of night, had now turned into his unwilling arrest by a creature that in any other circumstance likely wouldn't have wanted anything to do with him... Basil felt very sad. Or perhaps, something more akin to homesickness. At that particular moment he desired the comfort of his loft and his space-heater, and the stout little woman that taught him what it was to be a resident of this earth. But none of those things were here. He was very tired... Pulling his hood tight over his eyes he began to rock in his seat. Back and forth, back and forth, mumbling gently as he did so. He certainly appeared to be much calmer, but significantly more depressed. But perhaps that was the natural cycle of things for such a sick and uneducated boy...
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Posted: Mon Apr 12, 2010 10:05 pm
When Basil pulled his hood over his face, Lazarus just stayed on his seat and stared forwards into nothing in particular as he let his fume cool out.
The rest of the trip on the bus was mostly quiet. Initially the passengers keep turning around to gaze worriedly at them, although they were met with Lazarus's angry glare. Eventually the staring stopped as the bus proceeded into the night. Some of the passengers were obviously falling asleep as their head lolled in their seat, creating an amusing imagery. But Lazarus was not taking notice of that as he stared at the night scenery outside. The night sky, the lights passing by and the shadows everywhere. His mind though however, was not on the quiet beauty of the night flowing pass before him. The Sigel kept throwing brief worried glances at the Frei. Basil had been mostly quiet and kept to himself during the trip, only rocking back and forth in his seat. The gentle mumbling had turned into white noise for Lazarus, as the bus was not exactly quiet in itself either. Perhaps a feeling akin to pity had arisen in the Sigel's heart, looking upon Basil as a lost and disabled child. Momentarily he wondered if he was being too hard on him. Although if he didn't do what he did, Basil might have punctured the bus' tires and that would probably cause more embarrassment and trouble. So in that sense, he was at least thankful for the temporary peacefulness of this strange and bizarre night.
The passengers in the bus thinned as the bus traveled further, slowly approaching their destination. Although it was dark, Lazarus could make out the rough shape of the Lab in the distance as familiar scenery came into view outside, the bus started to slow as it approached the bus station. Turning over to face Basil, Lazarus slowly got up as he patted on the Frei's shoulder gently. "We're getting off here." His voice and features were softer than before as he spoke, his warm hand squeezing Basil's shoulder gently.
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Dangerous Conversationalist
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Posted: Thu Apr 22, 2010 3:44 pm
The experience of the bus ride was faintly soothing for Basil's troubled psyche, enduring a tickling nourishment from the road-noise and rattling metal interior. It was a state somewhat like sleep; this trance Basil found himself indulging. His conscious mind shutting down so as to spare him any further thought of the day's events. All that remained truly alive was the mumbling of his tired voice-- croaking, thick with discord. It couldn't be certain even what motivated the mumbling. What he spoke of. What draining ideas still rested in his decaying pool of thought. Perhaps at this point, they were merely the sleepy ramblings of a loony serpent.
As the sleep was justly broken with the squeal of the engine and the shake of his shoulder, his rocking ceased. His body became rigid in mid-air with hands clenched tight against the fabric of his hood. To the expectant Sigel he responded with both silence and stillness, gathering the proper awareness to process what was now occurring. The Red One was urging him to suspend himself. With no real proper acknowledgement and an almost fearful obedience, Basil then began to stand upright and edge smoothly into the aisle, waiting patiently for the remainder of the passengers to exit. Drifting forward did he stop abruptly near the driver before he would prepare to step out from the vehicle, his hands balling into white-knuckled fists. He leaned near the man's ear, clearly whispering something to him with the solemn certitude of a child's secret. Perhaps he was thanking the driver for his service, or asking him questions the man could not begin to answer. Perhaps it was nothing at all.
Once out upon the sidewalk, Basil waited patiently for the Red One to clasp his hand and steer him to their proper destination.
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Posted: Sun May 02, 2010 10:33 pm
Lazarus did not notice Basil whispering to the driver, because he was too keen on getting off the bus finally and head home. The illuminated digital clock at the bus stop indicated it is 10 minutes to midnight. As he turned around to check on Basil however, he did notice the driver giving a weird look at the Frei's departing figure, like Basil just did something crazy. Strangely, the older Sigel doesn't find that surprising at the slightest. The whole night already felt like a nightmare to him.
Quietly, they waited for the bus to leave the station. And as soon as it did and the small crowd that just got off dispersed, Lazarus clutched onto Basil's unhurt wrist like before, only not as hard this time, and started to head towards the direction of the lab.
The entire journey was fairly quiet as well, conversation-wise anyway, much like the bus trip. The low voice of Basil mumbling to himself or making weird noises can be heard occasionally, it still get to Lazarus especially in a much more quiet environment like on an empty street, but he learnt to ignore. Hopefully once Basil returned to a more familiar surrounding like in the lab, he will be acting more normally. Although the Sigel had a feeling that would just be his wishful thinking.
The outline of the lab building became clearer as they slowly approached, the lights in the lobby and upper floor were turned off, indicating Kyou is probably still in his office or already asleep. The short journey from the bus station to the Lab probably took about eight or nine minutes, just a little shy from midnight when the Raevans reached the front doors of the lab. Fumbling a little, Lazarus found the keys and unlocked the glass doors. He held it open after he slipped in, letting Basil in as well into the dark hall, only illuminated by the street lights outside. As Lazarus closed the doors and locked them, a clock chimed on a wall nearby, signifying that it is already midnight. The Sigel still couldn't believe that merely two hours had passed since he first met this strange Raevan, it felt much longer than that.
"Let's get you cleaned up, and we'll call your guardian in the morning." Lazarus said as he turned around to face Basil after he finished locking up.
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Dangerous Conversationalist
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Posted: Tue May 11, 2010 3:14 am
From the canvas of the night -pin-cushioned with stars- appeared the laboratory that not-so-long-ago had heralded the birth of the backwards beast now approaching it's doors hand-in-hand with the oldest of them all. At first Basil had not recognized it's imposing, statuesque presence. His eyes remained downcast, leisurely examining the sidewalk for all it's flattened, rubbery bandages of bubblegum and the rain-gutters littered with soda cans blackened from use as crack-pipes. In the daylight hours the lab could claim itself settled in a more or less well-to-do area inhabited by all breeds of sub-average civilians, but at night, nowhere was impervious from the ne'er-do-wells, the downcast, and the Basils of the world. Even now.
Eventually the sidewalk began to taper, giving way to the decorative foliage and spotless double doors that marked the building's entrance. At this did Basil's eyes lift briefly; a darting glance to the sight of Lazarus' key entering the lock and twisting it just so in a practiced, fluid motion. Clearly this lock differed from that of his own front door, as the Red One was neither banging against the glass in frustration, nor swearing uncontrollably at the realization that it was not his house-key he had inserted, but his car key wedged seamlessly in it's grasp. (Genevieve never was quite firing on all cylinders after a hard day's work...)
As clearly he was expected to enter the building behind the Red One, Basil took his time wafting within the lobby. As the clock vociferously chimed it's alert, Basil could not help but jump at this new sound, taking that moment of surprise to quickly look about. While his poor eyes certainly spared him no inconvenience, it was not too difficult to make out the sight of the desk, the furnishings, the hue of the walls underneath the yellow wash of the street-lights. It began to dawn on him that he had been here once before... He had wandered through these same hallowed halls, appeared in this same lobby only hours after awaking in this vast and complicated world. This was where he came from. His genesis, his birth, his beginning. He suddenly began to grow very fearful again... If he had a stomach, it would be clenching this very moment into a greasy little fist. Basil had undergone a great deal of stress -not even in the last two hours- but over the past several weeks. And it was this stress that led him to set into motion the simplest equation ammounting to his inevitable hysteria. Here he was in the darkest night, a time in which all manners of suspicious things were liable to occur. His woman was not here. His apartment, his loft, his radiator and belongings were not here. What was here now, was the building that had conjured him into existence, and likely, had the power to remove him from that existence. It stood to reason that the Red One had brought him here now to be vanquished. On pain of not belonging... Of being too impaired to survive any longer. He was here to be destroyed. Out of his mouth spewed a timorous muttering, a panic unmatched by his previous episodes thus far.
He began to shake and shudder, retreating swiftly into the corner of the lobby untouched by light. Why had he not made a greater effort to integrate? Why had he not made the effort to act as others did and nothing above and beyond? Clearly the Red One's reassuring request had not been heard by the inept frei. And if it had, at no point did the affirmation that Basil's woman would be there to retrieve him come the morrow reach the reeling mind of the newcomer. Basil scrambled to conceal himself beneath the Italian woman's desk under the assumption that if he could no longer see the Sigel, the Sigel could not see him. From there, the serpent began to weep in the clean-smelling darkness. It was a unique and baffling act for the cobra, as he did not produce tears. Though the sound and the manner in which he sought to hide his face was unmistakable. Basil did not want to die.
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Posted: Mon May 24, 2010 3:50 am
Lazarus watched curiously as Basil suddenly became very timid and fearful, scrambling away to hide under Alex's table. What was wrong? He wondered. Is there something behind him? Turning around, he looked over his shoulder more out of curiosity than bravery to see if anything fearful was at the glass doors, a scary man, or even his guardian maybe. But there was nothing there, just the quiet, serene, dark streets outside. Perhaps he was afraid of the dark? Although that doesn't make sense as well since he was wandering in the super dark alley ways when he met the Frei.
Running a hand through his hair, Lazarus sighed in defeat loudly as he gave up trying to figure Basil out. He doesn't care if he's smelly, he doesn't care if he stinks up the lobby, he doesn't care if his guardian picks him up tomorrow, (although hopefully she would so Lazarus wouldn't have to deal with him any longer) he just doesn't care anymore. He had brought Basil back to the Lab at least, so he was not lost in the streets outside somewhere, the Frei can stay in the lobby until morning. Never had Lazarus felt so drained both physically and mentally before, this is one of the rare nights that he just want to drop dead on the bed and sleep.
Without another word, the Sigel floated towards the lobby's light switch and turned it on with a soft click, the entire space of the room was alight with a brilliant white glow in an instance. Perhaps with the lights on, Basil wouldn't be so terrified. Giving another last glance at the huddled figure under the reception desk, Lazarus opened the glass doors leading into the corridor. He made sure to lock this door too so that Basil is effectively trapped in the lobby, just for security's sake lest the unpredictable Frei decided to run away again. When Kyou wake up tomorrow and come out to unlock the front doors, he is bound to see Basil in the lobby and will contact his guardian. Lazarus will just wait until then and explain to Kyou after Basil leaves, that is only if Kyou asks.
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Dangerous Conversationalist
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Posted: Mon May 24, 2010 10:55 pm
As Basil huddled beneath the temporary safety and darkness of the desk, he couldn't be sure of what to expect... It was difficult to even remember the events of his own birth, giving him little insight into what the experience of death might hold. It could all end in a catastrophic explosion, or slow and painful... Any moment now a masked assailant might leap under the desk to yank him out by the ears and take him by surprise! But somehow, in the short while he had been in this world (and the even shorter while he had had to think in his cramped little shelter) Basil had come to understand a greater deal of things than he had initially thought he was capable of... He had a greater understanding now of why one might hold on as he was, and cherish the events and people in their lives-- avert death so as to remain close to those things. Things like Genie, and couches, and spoons. (As hard as it might have been for Lazarus to believe in that moment), people would miss him if he were gone... And somehow, that thought alone filled him with a somber appreciation, and perhaps, the tepid understanding that he was not here to perish so long as he acknowledged these new thoughts and feelings.
If he had remained as empty a vessel as when he began this treacherous journey of life, death would not have phased him in the least! It put things dramatically in perspective... And when the lights came on, he felt his fear begin to evaporate as quickly as it had come. He had returned to the Lab with the fear of his demise and his heart heavy with the hurt of homesickness, and crawled out from beneath the desk a wiser frei, now realizing that he was more worthwhile than he had given himself credit for. As he watched the door close behind the Red One's back, he could not help but feel that those events were not coincidental. As though he had intended from the beginning for Basil to grasp these life-long fundamentals in his pursuits to see him home.
While certainly the Red One had spared him little impatience or exasperation since the night had begun, Basil was filled with a new sense of... dare he say, reverence for his stately Brother. Ironically enough he had only come to realize these things after the Red One was not there to witness it. With the room now illuminated, Basil quietly examined the lobby in it's full splendor; very much as he had remembered it before from the small fragments and shards of his memory that still glinted with truth in the midst of his many sicknesses. Things seemed to have greater aesthetic after a night as unbelievably wild and peculiar as that which he had just experienced... And with hands pawing at his hood, he would wait for the sun to rise, and with the coming dawn, his Genie.
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