Host Concept: Prather Thannis

[Suiyuko]

Here's some solo RP for the event sale. Please don't post. PM if you have a comment.

thx  

[Suiyuko]

Name: Prather Thannis
Gaia Username: Suiyuko
Race: Human
Description:
Age: 25
Eye: Hazel
Hair: Sandy blond
Wgt/Hgt: 6'0''/140lbs — lean, in shape

Personality ((taken from his entry on an online dating site)): Gosh, who knows what to say in these things. Well, I'm 25 and a financial analyst at an up-and-coming investment firm. Much to my parents' chagrin, I thought this would be more practical than holistic medicine or metaphysical counseling, but I've unfortunately been reduced to a middle management paper pusher in cubeland.

I don't really fit in with my coworkers, so I'm just looking for someone to spend some time with and get to know better. I sometimes have trouble talking to people and am occasionally subject to certain.....neuroses, but I've been told I'm a generally nice guy.

I like quiet nights at home and any outdoor activity, particularly free climbing. If I sound like someone you might like to get to know better, don't be afraid to drop me a line!
((no one responded))

Background:"Prather" could have been named "Michael" or, maybe "George" -- but the child of a holistic/homeopathic medicinal practitioner and metaphysical counselor, he got something a little out of the norm. From when he was a child, he was trained in the metaphysical. He learned to read auras, reiki, natural medicine -- he was well educated, of course. His parents also gave him little to no resistance when it came what he wanted to study, or even do. Fortunately for them, he liked to stay to himself.

Prather spent most of his childhood traveling with his parents - making house calls, essentially. They went to small towns, big cities, traveling communities, festivals. He met all kinds of people and was able to comprehend things others twice his age could barely grasp. When he was 14, he enrolled himself in private school -- his parents didn't notice. Well, until he was finished and had accepted his first "real" job. They were disappointed, but didn't stop by.

Maybe it was learned or something inherent in him, but Prather had always been able to read people -- to the extent that he could even feel their emotions at times. This is particularly why he stayed to himself. Being around too many people for too long would eventually nauseate him and he would wander off. He found most solace in the country -- be it forest, mountains or where ever he had ended up with his parents. In his adult life, he had taken to frequent weekend camping trips alone -- canoeing, free climbing and the like.

Professionally, he was a ghost, of at least tried to be one as much as possible. Staying to himself in his cube among cubes, he could hear all the gossip, feel the animosity. He tried to connect to people; it just didn't work out. But sometimes, when it did, it usually didn't end well. Prather wasn't a weak person. To survive his childhood, he had to be strong. Reserved, mature; he had to defend himself too. Sitting at a bar, someone might pick a fight, and he can just feel the spite and sadness rolling off of them. If they persist, he's been known to throw a punch. But that's at least why he'd become a financial analyst; numbers don't have feelings.

He spends his weeks hiding in his cube and his weekends camping out or holed up in his apartment. Watching the days pass on a wall clock, he's been feeling worse about everything lately. But it's not just his job, his life or the people around him. It's something in the air.

Lately, he's been spending more weekends camping outside the city.

Gem preference (which you want 1, 2, and 3): 3, 1, 2
Rps involved in: < to be filled in by Ivynian as you play >  

[Suiyuko]

Monday: 8am

Barely opening his eyes, Prather could see the particles of dust dancing in the rays of sunlight that poured through his open window. It was refreshing. Maybe I should've been a plant, he thought to himself, bothered by little and surviving on the bare necessities.

It was a novel thought, but he did enjoy his opposable thumbs, daily trying to solicit the love of his feline roommate Sylvia, and studying whatever he could wrap his mind around -- which was just about anything. The shelves criss-crossing the walls of his apartment sagged under his study materials.

He listlessly rolled over to stare at his alarm clock, which hadn't even considered buzzing yet. Good, he thought, I have some time to enjoy myself before the neighbors wake up. Prather swung his legs to the floor and rubbed the sleep from his face. Squinting, he saw Slyvia pining for attention from across the room, but too good to come near him. He trudged to the kitchen, fed her, scratched her between the ears when she least expected it (which she replied to with a startled look), and poured himself some organic black tea, with just a hint of milk.

He could feel the world coming to life outside, but inside of his apartment, it was quiet, save for the soft nibbling of the cat in her bowl. It was his favorite part of the day. He could feel an inner peace gently resting inside him, like a buoy bobbing up and down with the natural rhythm of the tides.

Prather tried to hold on to this feeling for as long as he could, but he knew it wouldn't last; it never did. Sure enough, moments later he could hear the characteristic slamming of doors and cupboards of his neighbors, with who he shared a kitchen wall. In his mind's eye, he could see the wall writhe from the outpouring of negative emotions that come from the neighbors. He would yell, then she would yell. The baby would cry, and she would yell again. The gentle waters inside of him that Prather counted on so much would then collapse upon themselves tumultuously and boil over, like a percolator left on for too long.

Prather stood in front of the sink and placed his palms on the wall, letting the emotions crash into him. Sometimes he was nauseated and first, and others, he would just weep for them. But it would always end the same. The baby was still crying. The man yelled, louder this time, and the woman yelped in fear. The anger hit Prather like a freight train. His temples burned and he gritted his teeth, bracing for what he was going to do.

Many mornings came just like this. Prather, no longer holding back, pounded as hard as he could on the wall, remarkably not breaking through. But this had the desired effect. The anger pulsing from the neighbors lessened, and Prather's anger waned instantly. The couple would then spend the next hour or so bickering in hushed tones, but then the man would leave, shutting the door considerately in a fake show of respect to a woman whom he obviously did not respect.

But he wasn't acting out of respect; it was fear -- fear of the neighbor whose pounding on their kitchen wall made him think that an unimaginable beast lived within the average looking young man just next door.  

[Suiyuko]

Tuesday: 10am

Prather sat staring at his computer screen idly blinking before him. A stack of papers sat on his desk untouched. His tie was crooked, but he hadn't gotten around to fixing it. Something about this week so far wasn't right. It was as if everything was a little off-kilter. He eagerly anticipated the weekend, when he could get out of town.

Fortunately for him, Prather's cube was close to the 7ft high wall of windows that stretched from one side of the floor to the other. He could simply turn around and see the city bustling below him and the sun jumping from the sharp glass angles of the adjacent buildings. He was in such a position, drinking his tea, when he glanced at the clock: 10am.

The office was usually humming with activity at this time of the morning, but, much like the day before, things were suspiciously quiet. Maybe people were vacationing, he thought. At least it let him be alone with his work -- and his thoughts. He could go about his day without having to steady himself against the jeers of the narcissistic meatheads trying to claw their way up the corporate colon and the vacuous assistants who clung relentlessly to them.

No, today he sat ignoring his work, staring out the window. A lazy falcon swooped down and hovered, catching a current, right outside the window. It eventually dropped onto the small ledge outside and pruned itself. It gave Prather a sideways glance then continued digging into its plumage with its beak.

Lilac? Prather took a deep breath. His heart sped up and his pupils dialated. A slight warmth crept up hi body, starting at his toes and working its way up. He quickly set his tea down and fussed over his tie in a small mirror he kept on his desk. T-dmp, T-dmp -- the sound of smart heels hitting the carpet at regular intervals. Convincing himself that he looked fine, Prather spun around just in time to feel the warmth rush to his head as his coworker Lauris stopped in front of his cube and smiled.

Prather half stood up and, embarrassed, tried to sit back down nonchalantly, but tipped his tea mug over in the process. He smiled sheepishly as Lauris looked at him, her eyes wide in surprise.

"Oh, no Prather! I'm so sorry! That's my fault; I didn't mean to frighten you!" She looked like she wanted to bend down to get his mug herself, but was obviously on her way to a meeting, dressed in a polished cream skirt suit with an armful of binders and papers.

"No, no! Not at all! Don't worry about it!" Prather was dabbing at the carpet with some tissues -- a futile attempt, but it kept him busy and gave him an opportunity to avoid direct eye contact. His senses were overwhelmed by the smell of lilac, but as the result of an uncomfortable conversation some months ago, he had determined that Lauris did not actually smell like lilacs. But still, moments before he ever saw her, he was totally enveloped in the aroma. "So, big meeting today?"

Lauris shifted the load in her arms and smiled. "How could you tell? The clients from that new account are coming in today, so we're having a little prep time to go over stuff before they're here." With a small exasperated sigh, she blew off of her face a stray hair that had wandered too close to her eye. She waited a moment just in case he wanted to say something, but she could tell he was too nervous to say anything else. He continued to focus on the spill.

Since she had first met him, Prather had been awkward around her. He once asked if she wore lilac perfume -- she rarely wore any perfume at all. He seemed really put off by this, but she reassured him that it was OK. Anyway, she thought he was cute when he was flustered.

"Anyway, I wanted to know if you wanted to do lunch tomorrow. There's this new place that just opened up down the block and it looks like fun." Lauris' eyes sparkled.

Prather looked up, dejected. "Oh, I'm supposed to have lunch with my mom tomorrow." But an idea came to mind, and his eyebrows leaped up in excitement. "Hey! But why don't we do dinner later this week?" Inwardly, he basked in the gentleness that emanated from her, accompanied by the floral perfume.

"Yeah, definitely! Just let me know." Lauris glanced down at her watch. "Shoot. Look, I've got to go. But shoot me an email and we'll make the plans, OK?" She smiled, tilted her head, and squinted a little, like she did when someone made a witty remark. She waved him off. "We'll talk later. See you!" T-dmp, T-dmp. And she walked off.

Prather took a deep breath and rolled his eyes at himself. If he leaned just a little bit out of his cube, he could watch as her reflection grew smaller on the windowed corridor.

That will probably be the highlight of my week, he thought. Prather didn't know if he should be happy or sad about that.  

[Suiyuko]

Wednesday: Noon

Prather looked off into nowhere, mindlessly fingering the tea mug that was placed before him on a rickety table outside of a small cafe down the street from his office. The server had already come by twice to check on him, but, put off by his confused look, had taken to simply walking by every so often just in case.

Shaking himself as if from a dream, he checked his watch; it was well past noon. Figures, he thought. He was about ready to signal his server and pay for his tea when a flurry of silken color, shimmering beads, and glistening stones entwined in elaborate metal casings came around the corner. It was an older, waifish woman, her hair up in a loose bun and wearing dark ovular sunglasses that were far too large for her face. She carried herself effortlessly and with a slight content smile that never seemed to fade -- funny because she had w/ her a giant woven bag large enough for a small child. She instantly met Prather's eyes and her smile grew even larger.

Swiftly, purposefully, she navigated her way through the crowd and took a seat across from Prather. She offered out her hand. "Prather! Sweetheart!"

Prather shook her hand, but she held on and brought her other hand up, cradling his hand between both of hers. "Hi, Lily," he said almost reluctantly. His mother and father had always been on a first-name basis with him.

He could see her eyes close even behind her dark glasses and saw her brow furrow. "Oh, sweetie, your chakras are all over the place. What's wrong? Look, come by my office after work and I can fix you right up." She relinquished his hand, pushed her glasses up onto her head, and smiled at him.

Prather tried to look away, pretending that something had caught his eye. "No, I'm OK, really." He had caught the server's attention a moment ago as she waited on a table near the door. He signaled for the check.

Lily swung her bag off her shoulder and dropped it at her feet. She spoke in a motherly tone. "Well, if you're OK, then the rest of the city must be really OK. Something hasn't been right lately. People are coming in with all kinds of problems. Chakra misalignment, spontaneous aura degeneration, anxiety, nightmares - it's a mess; it really is." See sighed, feeling sorry for the world. Prather finally met her eye to eye. She looked thinner, with an almost unnatural pallor. She drank from the water bottle that she had pulled from her bag when he wasn't looking.

"Lily, I mean, Mom, you ask if I'm OK. Are you?" He tried to look at her, feel her, feel anything that she might be giving off. Whatever he could feel, it was faint and indiscernible.

She looked at him surprised. "Oh, Prather, in times like these, I need to be there for people. They expect people like me and your father to help them, and we're there to. It can take a lot out of you, but it's worth it. Had you continued with your studies with your father and I, you'd know. But, free will and all that." She smiled and waved it away like hadn't said anything cutting. "I'll be fine, dear."

He could feel his face redden, and he looked away. The server dropped off the bill and walked away. Lily was taken aback. "What, so you're just going to say 'Hello' and run off?"

Prather glanced again at his watch. "Look, Lily, you left me sitting here for almost an hour; I've got to get back to work." He slid his chair back and tossed some money on the table. Lily let out a long sigh, fishing for a better excuse; Prather wouldn't give in. He started to leave.

"Alright, sweetie." Lily held out her hands expectantly; Prather sighed and limply offered up his hands. "May the love of the world surround you."

It was a practiced coming and going that Prather's parents adhered to religiously. He was programmed to respond. "And to you," he muttered unceremoniously. He dropped her hands, leaned in to kiss her on the cheek, and walked off without looking back. As he left, he could hear the jangling of her bracelets when she signaled waitress over.

For the moment, Prather felt justified for leaving in a huff. But he never would have left that way had he known that he would never see her alive again.  

[Suiyuko]

Thursday: 2pm

There wasn't one moment in Prather's life that he could remember when he couldn't feel everything and everyone around him. Not one moment in which the feelings of others failed to affect him, whether negatively or positively. But today was that moment, extended.

He had awoken like any other day. Had his tea, come to work, sat in his cube staring at the computer screen and the pile of work on his desk. It was noon before he even realized where he was. People had come by to talk to him -- alpha males and their pissing contests, bosses to get on his case. But he was in a wind tunnel, where his senses were almost entirely numbed. He could barely hear voices, spiking through the static. And the emotions emanating from his surroundings hit him and slid off, like rainwater streaming off a sleek, new umbrella.

"Prather?......."

Lights and shapes danced before him, nimbly evading the afternoon light cascading through the wall of windows just enough so he couldn't make them out.

"Prather?....."

He felt like he had stopped breathing; his heart stopped beating. Am I still alive? He willed himself to move, to reach up with his hand and touch his chest to confirm his death. But it wasn't Prather who touched his shoulder.

"Prather? Prather, are you in there?" Lauris stood before him, gingerly touching his arm. Like emerging into daylight from a smokey subway tunnel, Prather almost jumped when he was startled back to reality.

"What? Oh, hey, Lauris." Despite his ever so slight look of shock, Prather greeted her lackadaisically. He didn't look sad, or worried, or upset, or angry. He looked emotionless, less than emotionless, even. He looked like he could've leaned back and simply faded into the drab gray cloth that lined his cube.

"Are you OK? People all over the office are talking. The bosses are saying they came to talk to you today, and you just blew them off. You know, you've got that big meeting tomorrow and......"

"My parents died last night," Prather interrupted abruptly. "My mother had massive internal hemorrhaging of her major organs and died sleeping on the couch. My father's heart stopped when he walked in the door." He divulged this information to her in the same manner he had greeted her only seconds before. Lauris dropped the folders she was carrying and covered her mouth with her hands. Her eyes glistened with tears.

Frantically, she threw out suggestions. "Oh my god! I'm so sorry! I didn't know! You've got to tell someone! Why are you even here right now?"

Prather looked through her contemplatively. Then, he looked down at himself, his desk, his computer, then finally back to meet her eyes.

"I don't know." He looked confused for a moment, then resolute. "I don't know why I'm here. I have to go." In slow, deliberate movements, he collected his things. Lauris stood there emotionally dumbfounded, looking up and down the cube corridor, as if help were on its way at that very moment.

"But, wait! There has to be something I can do. I..." She lost any words that might have come to her. Her lip trembled for a second and warm, syrupy tears silently rolled down her cheeks. Prather stood, looking at her. He wrapped his arms tightly around her and she buried her face in his chest. She sobbed like she had never before, but she didn't make a sound.

Prather could feel her heartbeat; he could feel his heartbeat. But it wasn't his heartbeat, it was only hers. He could feel again, but the only thing he could feel was the woman against him and her heartbeat. Her sobbing waned and she took a step back.

"May the love of the world surround you." Prather could still feel her heartbeat, like he had taken it with him.

Lauris smiled, embarrassed that she had had such a breakdown for him while he was standing right there. "Thanks. Good luck."

Prather looked down so he wouldn't have to see her face again and the pain it had for him. He turned out of his cube and walked toward the elevators. He could hear Lauris' quick steps as she undoubtedly ran to tell their bosses the news. He was sure that she did it to keep his job secure until he returned.

But the realization he had come to resounded in his mind: I don't know; I don't know why I'm here.  

[Suiyuko]

Friday: 5pm

Prather took a few deep, calming breaths. OK, he thought. Right, up, left, up, right, right, up. He closed his eyes for just a moment, retracing in his mind the route he would use to get him to the top of the sheer rock face that he was presently splayed out against.

He was already more than halfway, and the climb wasn't as challenging as he was accustomed, but his joints were already starting to throb in protest and his muscles sizzled. He had woken that morning to the sound of his answering machine, more specifically his boss assuring him that in light of his recent family emergency, he could take some personal leave from work, and that his position would be right there waiting for him. The insincere drawl with which his manager spoke made Prather suspicious. He morbidly pictured his cube as some sort of drooling, pulsating carnivorous plant, just sitting...."waiting for him."

Normally, a thought like that would a least bring the smallest smirk to Prather's face -- today, it didn't. But like he started any weekend, he packed his bags for camping and rock climbing for the weekend. He did this methodically, careful not to leave anything behind. All the while his phone rang -- friends, family, clients of both his parents. They left messages of support and condolence; he could barely comprehend the words.

With calculated, concise movements he packed and straightened up his apartment. Since he had heard about his parents, Prather hadn't cried. He wasn't known for visible outpourings of emotion, but in this case, he expected it at any time. But whatever it was he was waiting for never came. There was some wrongness about the whole situation, like it was all a big ruse and at any moment his parents would come knocking at his door and use the subsequent awkward silence to teach him some life lesson. And traipsing in behind them would be Elvis, Amelia Earheart, and a very grown up Lindberg baby looking dapper in a three-piece suit and greased back hair.

Prather couldn't decide if that made him crazy or if he was just thinking about the most ridiculous situation possible to avoid the gravity of the truth. He swept both ideas out of his head so he could round out his list. Glancing at his bags that he had set by the door, he went to take care of his cat, Sylvia. She was usually quite the cuddler first thing in the morning, purring and walking figure-eights around his legs. But today she sat somber and motionless. He called her name and she skulked over to her food bowl without looking up. He refreshed her water and scratched her between the ears; she ate silently.

Prather knew that she knew more about him than he would ever acknowledge, but today wasn't the time for that. He had to stay focused; he was afraid of what would happen if he didn't. He was slinging bags over his shoulders when he heard his answering machine click on one more time.

"Prather? Hi, it's Lauris..." She spoke slowly, deliberately. A faintly discernible buzz of silence punctuated her statements. "Look, I hear you're going to be out for a while...I...I just wanted to check up on you, you know?" Another pause. "Just...take care, OK? If you need anything...or just want to talk...you know how to get a hold of me." Lauris had set down the phone so gingerly on her end that Prather didn't realize she was gone until he heard the click of the answering machine. He had never felt so lonely.

So here he was, a couple hundred feet above the forest below, the heat from the fading sun still licking at the nape of his neck and shoulders, leaving behind a sickly sheen of sweat. Prather dug his fingertips into the rock's crevices and steadied his feet. Right, up, left, up, right, right, up. It wouldn't exactly put him at the top, but he was sure to make it there before dark. He checked the rope he was tethered to as well as the rings driven into the rock that had been holding the rope as he scaled the rock face. Were he to fall, they would be his lifeline.

With unmatched deftness, he swung himself back and forth, quickly and firmly placing his foot, then pushing off to get to the next tiny ledge with his fingertips. Chalk clumped to his hands, and he could hear the rustle of flakes of stone as they fell from under his feet. His breath came out hot and labored. After a few repetitions, he made it to his goal -- though still just short of the top -- and shimmied a little farther over to where the ledge was almost half a foot wide, providing him a much needed respite.

After securing himself, he took another cleansing breath and looking up, plotting his next moves. He visualized paths -- lines criss-crossing, leading to the top. He had almost determined his next move when his thoughts were interrupted. Perched on a rock almost at the top, a large, dark bird cawed at Prather and glared menacingly. Before he had a chance to discern what the bird was doing, it dove from its perch, spread its wings, and veered west, toward the waning light.

Prather thought little of this until, moments later, dozens upon dozens of birds, some similar in appearance and others clearly from somewhere else, followed suit, making no more sounds than the muffled flapping of their wings -- not a squawk or a chirp. Prather marveled at first, but then looked down, and his curiosity turned to uncertainty, which quickly turned to fear. It was the birds he noticed at first, taking to the sky in droves, but squinting he could see that it wasn't just birds, it was an exodus. All the animals of the forest were leaving, going west.

Prather knew this was bad: fires, earthquakes, hurricanes -- animals can sense things, he believed so, at least. But never had he seen or heard of anything like this: a mass migration of animals from the forest in utter deafening silence. He checked his rope; everything was secure. The skies were clear and there weren't any fault lines for a hundred miles. Reason returned to him; he had to get off this rock. He braced himself to repel down, and with a gloved hand running over the rope, he went about 10 feet at a time. 10 feet...20...30...40...

He wasn't quite there, but he could clearly make out forest bed, and the sound of the wind whipping by his face comforted him. He would be on the ground in no time. From where he was, he couldn't see any more fleeing animals -- they had not only left en masse, but in a hurry. He could feel the slight heat given off by the metal clamps that rubbed the rope as it slid by; he was still at least a hundred feet off the ground, but he was confident that he would make it.

Until an abrupt stop sent him reeling upside down. He could hear a resounding twang when the rope went stubbornly taut and threw him backward. The momentum of his body flipping around drove the back of his head straight into the rock. Dazed but conscious, he could feel the warm, wet wound matting the hair to his head. After blinking it away, he could see where the rope was caught, about 40 feet up. Feeling an impending sense of urgency, he flipped himself upright and decided to cut himself from his harness and free climb down the rope.

But just as his knife started to bite into the harness, Prather had the distinct feeling that it was too late -- something was about to happen and there was nothing he could do about. Interestingly, at that point, he didn't mind being stranded on the rock wall -- he felt that regardless of what was coming, he wasn't going to be any safer on the ground.

Still mostly attached to his harness, Prather let himself dangle there vulnerable. The wind gently coaxed him around, and he sat there, looking out onto the forest. The silence enveloped him and a sadness he had never felt before emanated from everything -- things he could see, things he couldn't...everything. He wasn't thinking about them, but a picture of his parents flahed unexpectedly before his eyes. He could finally feel, and the tears welled up in his chest.

But he wouldn't let himself go -- physically or emotionally. He started to hack away at his harness. He felt his weight shift from one side of the harness to the other -- Almost there, he thought. It was the only thought going through his head.

But he was stopped by a sound so disturbing he couldn't think or even start to move, except for gripping so tightly to the rock wall that his fingertips started to bleed. What he heard was nothing, not one sound. He couldn't even hear the blood pounding in his head -- it was a complete vacuum. Later he would describe the feeling he got as total primal fear -- the complete, instantaneous stripping of a sense. The lack of the ability to connect with anything around you, or for you even to connect with yourself -- listening to yourself breathe, validating your own existence.

He clung to the rock like most would cling to life or sanity -- pressed his face against it, somehow hoping that it would reach out for him. He opened his eyes toward the east, slightly darker now that the sun sat anxiously on the horizon. He expected the sound of the trembling earth, rocks falling, trees toppling on one another. He heard none of these sounds. But what he saw defied any sort of natural laws he had ever known. Starting from the darkening horizon, the land itself was rippling. It wasn't just shaking or cracking, rippling like throwing a rock into a still pool of water. He could only see one ripple, but it was so massive that he couldn't see what was happening to the land on the other side. As far as he knew, it could be there totally intact, or it could be vaporized.

Prather couldn't hear it, and couldn't feel it coming toward him, but he knew there was nothing he could do. At least it was moving quick enough that he didn't even have time to worry about it. In an instant, he saw the sheer rock wall that he had been climbing all day undulate in an impossible way, until it came to him.

With enough force to violently knock the wind out of him, Prather was thrown from the rock wall. But it wasn't so much thrown as pulled. Gasping for air, Prather was sure that he was falling to his death, but instead of seeing the sky, he could still only see the rock wall rapidly growing smaller and smaller in the distance before he blacked out.  

[Suiyuko]

In Limbo

Almost simultaneously when he blacked out, Prather saw his life flash before him, as anyone who could see an imminent, instant death approaching them would.

It started rapidly from when he was a child, skipping from scene to scene, year to year. The images were sharp and brisk, in exaggerated technicolor. He could see his parents doting over him like only they could. The colors, smells of his childhood. Lecture upon lecture of subjects he was too young to understand.

But as he progressed through his life, the images became indistinct. He could hear kids laughing at him, but he couldn't see the playground. He could smell the essential oils of his mother as she tried to comfort him, but he couldn't feel her arms wrapped around him.

The pictures disappeared altogether and were replaced by motley vapors swirling before his eyes. He could only sense the times in his life that fate had chosen to present to him upon his death. A pale yellow vapor swirled through the others and touched him. Traveling with his parents, he had met a shaman. Prather couldn't understand what the man said, but he had seen the universe in the man's eyes and hadn't been afraid. A red vapor overtook the others and seared his mind. He could feel it; he was fighting with his parents. He knew when; he had thrown a box of crystals and stones through a sliding glass door.

A vibrant green then consumed his ethereal vision. At his graduation, he was both sad and proud -- top of his class, but his parents didn't come. He moved to the city, a wilderness of glass and stone.

He could feel it -- that moment teetering between life and death, the very instant before he would hit the ground. But it was at this moment that the prismatic vapors dancing before him stopped moving and seemed almost to die, like the fire that had been fueling them had been snuffed out. They paused in mid motion, and their vibrance faded, leaving only monochromatic gray wisps.

Faintly, the images that had been replaced by the vapors came back, but in a very different form. He could see people, but they weren't where they were supposed to be. He could see places, but they were crumbling in disrepair. Had he any physical connection with his body, he would've gotten sick when the images began to gain coherence. It was the past week -- his apartment, his job, his parents, his city. But everything was decrepit and soaked in a syrupy miasma. He could see it hanging low over the city, reaching down with noxious tendrils and wrapping them desirously around woman, men, and children. He watched their faces change, affected by this force. The tendrils penetrated them front and back, eagerly diving from person to person.

Prather could see people weaken, could see their spirits fall to the ground without resistance. Their bodies moved on, but they were only shells. Then his mother; he could see her in her office. The chairs were full, and the miasma clung to each person, dripping from them like ooze. He saw his mother come out of her inner office, rubbing her forehead and straining to smile at her next patient.

This phantasmal image of his mother was almost too much. He wanted to look away; he knew what was happening. He remembered the last time he saw her -- what she had said, how pale she was. She took a patient to her office and directed him to the table. She lit incense and placed crystals on various parts of his shirtless chest; the miasma concentrated itself. She moved her hands over the crystals with patience; Prather could see she was a cow in a slaughter house. The miasma crawled up her arms and into her face, dove in and out through her chest and back, coursed diabolically through her veins. The look of calm on her face wavered, but she fought to save it.

The scene flashed. It was his parent's house; the air was saturated in the miasma to the point that it stained the memory. His mother walked to the couch, obviously just returning from work. She sat on the couch and, like a cloud of dust beat from a couch cushion, the miasma flared into a great could, surrounding her. She took a small breath, and the miasma lurched down her throat. Closing her eyes, she leaned back. Her head fell to the side and blood trickled from her mouth.

Prather tried to scream, tried to grab and tear apart the vision. Something hadn't been right; I knew it, but why didn't she? Why did she just take this evil from everyone else and let it destroy her! Is it my fault?

He could feel every emotion that he had ever felt in his entire life eating away at him at the same moment. The vapors swirled tempestuously before him. So this is the moment, he thought. This is death.

Prather waited expectantly, but then opened his eyes like he had never been awake before -- and immediately vomited profusely.