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 Posted: Mon Nov 17, 2008 3:45 pm
The first thing he noticed when he woke up was that there was no longer a hole in the ceiling, and the first thing he realized was that he had absolutely no idea as to where he was. He didn't recognize the ceiling nor the wall that was to his left, the only direction he seemed he could comfortably turn his head, and part of his mind wondered what that strange smell was. It was a combination of sterile and clean, like bleach mixed with a really interesting air freshener, and as he tried to turn his head over so he could see what was beyond the wall he noticed that something rubbed against the skin of his neck with the motion - and it stung.
The same feeling could be said about when he tried to move his left arm, only to find that it had been placed in a fixed position so he couldn't move, and despite how many painkillers he must have been on he could feel a dull ache radiating from his hand and fingers. His leg was lifted slightly above his body by a traction mast, a large cast running from his foot up to the middle of his thigh, and he sighed as he noticed he couldn't wiggle his toes very well without some discomfort.
Micajah by now was pretty sure that if he could see himself he would look more like a mummy than a human youth, his judgment based on how many bandages he could feel wrapped against his skin, and for a moment he tested his right arm to see if he could push himself into a sitting position. Pleased when he discovered that he could, albeit rather stiffly, he hoisted himself into a sitting position and used his free arm to arrange the pillows so as to prop him up without him having to lean. His back was burning something fierce.
"Well. Isn't this a pleasant way to wake up."
Oh, so he could talk now. That was reassuring.
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Posted: Mon Nov 17, 2008 3:57 pm
"Ah, you're awake now." Gideon strolled into the room, a thin folder in one hand, a bottle of soda with a straw sticking out of it in the other. The tall man didn't seem... Enraged. However, he looked rather weary. Still, he carefully shut the door behind himself, firmly, and approached the bed.
"Hello, Micajah. Feeling like a champ, I'm sure?" A slight smile. "Let's have a little chat. Would you like to talk about last night first, or our last conversation?"
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Posted: Mon Nov 17, 2008 4:08 pm
Oh. So that wasn't a dream.
Micajah's face lit up like a Christmas tree as a person he felt he was seeing entirely too often came walking into the room sporting a drink and a folder, his school file he presumed, and he shook his head softly as he tried to clear his thoughts and prepare for whatever was going to be coming he was. He had expected he was going to be interrogated sooner or later, though he had assumed later to be the exact time, and despite the fact he was injured the youth knew how to handle himself in this situation and was prepared to do what he had been taught to do many times over.
"I'm feeling well enough, thank you. I'd ask to what do I owe this visit but it's only a logical explanation that someone would be coming to see me after what happened yesterday."
He forced a smile of his own, one not so slight as Gideon's, and he wondered why the motion made the skin on his face ache. Did he have another black eye or something? That didn't seem completely impossible thanks to the damage he was sure had been inflicted on his body by the blast, the extent of which were still unknown to him since he had no mirror, and for a second he broke the smile before it once again graced his face.
"If you're looking for answers you'll have to play fairly with me like we did before. One question, one answer - unless you're hear to force a confession out of me, of course."
He doubted that.
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Posted: Mon Nov 17, 2008 4:23 pm
"This is not a game, Micajah." And apparently, Gideon wasn't in as good of a mood as before. Moving closer to the bed, he frowned a bit at the beat-up boy. "What I am giving you is a fair chance to confide in someone, so you don't have to be so alone and secretive."
Placing the manila folder on the side-table next to the bed, he politely held the can out, so the straw was in reach of Micajah's mouth, if he wanted a drink. "But, I will answer the questions you have. First, explain what happened last night." His black eyes searched the boy's. "Then tell me about the blanks in your student file."
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Posted: Mon Nov 17, 2008 4:53 pm
Micajah turned his head away from Gideon to stare at the wall, first making sure to utter a polite 'no thank you' in regards to the drink he was being offered. While he liked the soda that the older man had he felt like it would be a waste to drink it, as his throat was burning something fierce and he didn't know if he could even swallow, so a polite refusal was his best shot. Another thing that was wrong with him was Gideon's words about secrets and being along made his chest hurt with a pain different then those caused be his injuries, though he simply breathed in and out a few times to try and ease it off. No use in getting worked up over simple questioning.
"I was bored, and I thought I might try something fun. Scyeth happened to come over with a magic book and expressed similar interests in doing something so I agreed to help him out. He merely watched while I set everything up and when he stepped into the ring - a blur. That's all there is to it."
His voice was monotone, like he'd been rehearsing in his head what he wanted to say and didn't feel like putting any emotion into it, and he turned his gaze from the wall back over to the adult. His eyes were dull as he looked, his expression almost a blank stare instead of one that a child recalling a trauma should possess. Normally someone would show fear as they thought about, or even broke down and cried, but not Micajah. He merely stared at Gideon for a moment or two before he turned his head once more away.
"I don't know I survived, I didn't think I had such a strong will to live. Seems kind of funny in comparison to how I act, don't you think?"
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Posted: Mon Nov 17, 2008 5:15 pm
Gideon stared back, pulling the can away and sipping from the straw himself. "Micajah, do you always do this?" Hide away emotions. "You seem like you're always hiding." He sat on the edge of the bed and ran a hand through his hair.
"Tell me about your father. Why are you here to watch? Do you mean spy?"
The word was said without any judgement. After all, he didn't understand WHY the boy would be doing that, but if he was, it probably wasn't even his choice. "I won't condemn you for what you tell me."
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Posted: Mon Nov 17, 2008 5:49 pm
At the word "spy" Micajah's eyes opened widely and he quickly turned to look at Gideon, the expression on his face one a mixture of pure shock and pure anger. It was hard to tell this of course thanks to the bandages he wore about his face, which he finally noticed because of how he turned and made them flutter, but the way his whole posture changed should have been enough of an indicator.
"I'm not a spy, I'm more of an observer if you must know."
His words were spat out almost in a hiss, like protecting his secret was more important to him then forging relationships with others, and still the angered look remained on his features. This man may have accused him of something, but he wasn't going to crack down any time soon; he couldn't.
His Father would never forgive that failure, no matter how many times the boy apologized for it. He'd already failed once before over something so trivial and had to work hard to gain back his Father's supposed trust, a task that had taken more then a few years to accomplish, and to let it drop now was something he did not want. At all.
"And I'm not hiding. I don't hide from others."
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Posted: Tue Nov 18, 2008 11:36 am
Gideon's whole stance softened slightly, even as Micajah's grew more aggressive. The tall male sighed and continued to sip from the straw, black eyes analyzing the boy. "Observe, then. Why are you observing?" He shook his head. "I can spend a month or two tracking down your secrets another way, but I'd rather just ask you." A long pause.
"If you're afraid this is going to get out, you don't need to worry about that." His voice was soft. "Answer my questions, and then I'll answer yours."
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Posted: Tue Nov 18, 2008 11:43 pm
"You can look all you want, say all you want, but I doubt you'll find anything. People can tell you whatever it is you want to hear but unless you can find proof then it's all speculation and downhill."
He moved his right arm so it was resting in his lap and he set his eyes down on it, moving his bandaged fingers ever so slightly as he spoke. He had been so careful up to this point, not saying anything to anyone and keeping to himself most of the time to try and knock away suspicions, but a simple demon who had come here not even over a week's time ago had seen through it all and had him now backed in a corner.
"Anyway any proof you'd get from my end is long gone, probably burned to nothing in that fire, and I'm. . ."
He stopped mid sentence and looked around the room like he was searching for something, before he quickly bit his lower lip and let his shoulder twitch. Maybe it was the pain medicine that was making him act this way, so over emotional, but for some reason there was a pit in his stomach that made him feel like there was something important missing.
"Do you think they have my clothes here? The ones I was carried in with?"
His question sounded urgent, almost like everything depended on him knowing what it was that he wanted.
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Posted: Thu Nov 20, 2008 2:32 pm
"Possibly, though they may have been disposed of. I can find out for you, when I leave. Do you want them?" He churned over Micajah's other statements in his mind, and took his time replying. "You're telling me that there was proof of something. That's basically admitting what I need to know." He sighed, shaking his head.
"I'm sorry about your things, Micajah. We're still going through your room, trying to salvage anything we can, but it looks like most of your personal belongings are lost."
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Posted: Thu Nov 20, 2008 2:45 pm
No.
"Wha...what do you mean? Disposed of? Lost?"
No. No no no.
"No, you're lying to me. They're okay, all my things are okay. I just have to go and get them myself, right? Let me go do that then, since you're saying you guys couldn't find anything to save just yet."
Micajah started to move on the bed despite the protesting his body was giving him, a protest strong enough that a simple movement caused him to groan loudly with pain, but he bit through it managed to pull his left arm free of the vice that held it in place. That action caused yet another impulse that the medicine couldn't subdue, yet he merely moved his right hand onto the side of his arm and squeezed it to release some endorphins.
"I'll know where everything is, so just let me get there and I'll be right out. You can even wait here since it won't take me long to get there and get back."
He tried to move more when he realized that his leg was not coming with him, having being tied into the traction cable completely, and he frowned as he tried to use his weight to pull himself free. The crane swayed a bit but refused to let go, so he only pulled harder.
"Damn it, let me go!"
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Posted: Thu Nov 20, 2008 2:51 pm
"Micajah... You need to calm down, before Doctor Kenth comes in here and asks me to leave for upsetting you." He lowered his voice, shaking his head. "The explosion destroyed your room, almost completely. I think I got everything that could be salvaged, last night. Now they're simply cataloging the losses."
A long, sigh. "Officially, I should be telling you that is why students shouldn't be toying with powerful magics... But I am truly sorry, Micajah. I managed... To save something, that may be important." His black eyes locked on the boy's face. "Your book bag is almost completely ruined, but it managed to protect a violin, which has minor damage and is repairable. It's in my office."
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Posted: Thu Nov 20, 2008 3:11 pm
"I don't care about that violin! I don't care about it at all!"
Micajah's voice, usually so soft and calm, had risen almost to a yell as he still struggled to pull himself free. After a moment he let out a louder groan, this one almost a scream, as he managed to finally pull his leg free from traction. It also pulled the mast down and it clanged loudly against the floor, giving the boy enough of a break should Gideon have looked to see that to slide off of the bed and onto the ground.
"That stupid violin doesn't matter, it's...."
His words were choked as he tried to get himself off the ground and into a position were he could at least crawl at best, though he collapsed under the strain of his own muscles and the weight of the casts. He was bleeding from the impact he'd caused, a small pool gathering at the corner of his mouth and dripping out onto the floor, and several of his bandages began to darken in color as scabs protested being pulled free.
"Mo...mother..."
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Posted: Thu Nov 20, 2008 3:23 pm
"I don't believe you." Gideon's voice was soft, somehow non confrontational, He gently touched the boy's shoulder before dropping his hand as he remembered that Micajah didn't seem to like being touched. Mother...? Had the violin been hers? Frowning, Gideon reached into his pocket, unfolding his fist to reveal a small finger puppet.
"I found this in your clothing, when we dressed your wounds last night." It was undamaged. "It's all yours. You don't have to make any deals or trades for your stuff, Micajah. The violin is yours, as well."
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Posted: Thu Nov 20, 2008 3:35 pm
"I...I told you...."
Micajah turned his head up to look at Gideon with tears threatening the corner of his eyes, one of them even daring to escape down his cheek and drip off his chin onto the ground. How had he gotten so upset in such a short amount of time? Was it because Gideon assumed he wanted the violin, was it because he couldn't get to where he wanted to go?
Perhaps it was the medicine that ran through his system that was allowing him to feel more honest with himself and his emotions, the only thing that would let him act like how he wanted too for so long.
"That violin was from my Father, I hate it. What I want most, what I-"
He stopped talking as soon the finger puppet was brought out, his eyes trembling for a moment before they closed and the tears slowly made their way down his cheeks like a small stream. His broken hand moved to cover his mouth as his finger from the other reached out to take the crumpled butterfly, hand trembling, and once it was in his grasp he pulled it close to his face.
"Mo...mother's doll...."
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