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 Posted: Sun Jun 09, 2013 12:48 am
The heat.
Oh, the heat.
It burnt away his dreams, in its unfettered fury, seething through him without a single barrier. It parched him as sweat beaded up on his skin, brought to his attention by the cooling breeze of his paltry fan. As he breathed, he felt a heavy weight bearing down on his back. The source of the furnace, the source of his discomfort. Inadvertently, that weight roused him from a welcoming, deep sleep. And with that awakening came the burden of all the pain sustained from several hours ago, amongst the cacophony of bright colors and carnival songs. Screams, blood and bliss.
With mild hesitance, he turned his head toward the source of his disturbance. A sigh. Soon, his eyes started adjusting to the darkness. Bleary. Eventually a vague shape came into focus. Paleness. Paleness punctuated by ash blonde. Slowly the gears of his mind began grinding. Mulling. He grew pensive over the slowly sharpening scene. He recognized that shape, though not the warmth it showed him, nor the touch. He was a stranger to touch. To connection. This didn't make sense.
Nothing about this made sense.
Alexandre. Was this another instance of him retreating to Alois' bed to seek sanctuary from an arachnid intruder? No - he would've made a scene of it beforehand. As he mulled over the blonde's presence in his bed, he came to a realization upon remembering the events of the night before. He remembered their breathless interaction, their baser exploration. Their carnal introduction. He remembered it all,
and his skin iced over in his recognition.
Suddenly Alexandre didn't feel quite so hot anymore.
With a deep breath, he pried himself away from Alexandre's curled form. He sat up, black hair a tousled mess, gold eyes still bleary and glazed from sleep. Pale skin still bereft of clothing. He slipped on his boxers, at least, and located his pants at the threshold of his room. Upon rifling the pockets, he found his cigarettes and pilfered the matches from the opposite pocket. He needed a smoke so badly that he was trembling. There was no time to deal with meandering down the winding stairs and making his way outdoors; he simply opened his bedroom window and leaned against the sill while he lit up and took a drag. At least it quelled the erratic beating of his heart, though it did nothing to return his skin to its normal temperature. Maybe it froze, maybe it burned.
He couldn't tell. It didn't feel like he knew himself anymore.
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Posted: Sun Jun 09, 2013 1:24 am
With spring came flowers, green grass, and new life. It also brought spiders and they were the blonds weakness, a big weakness. He hadn't meant to, he couldn't be faulted for a phobia as strong as his, but he'd had quite the panic attack not that long ago something Alois hadn't seen. Alois had however been subjected to the aftermath when Alexandre freshly woken, screaming as he'd jolted awake, from a nightmare had gone down to the others basement room and begged entrance into his bed. After explaining things, to which he'd found out that Alois had met Kallichore and already knew of his...issue with the eight legged beasts, he'd been granted the solace he'd sought in another persons warm bed. Without Lily around he'd had no choice but to go to Alois, despite thinking he'd be pushed away and even laughed at, but he'd taken the risk and been rewarded.
It was after the incident, and having almost stumbled down the stairs, that Alexandre had spoken to Lily and after much talk had cleared out her room and offered it to Alois. Keep him closer, and keep himself from toppling down the stairs. Plus it afforded the other a nice bay window so he could opp it open, sit, and smoke - not that he was telling him flat out to do such a thing. It was just something Alois could do, and likely did do.
This time he wasn't sleeping with the other for the same reason though. Nor was he rousing to the same sight. He wasn't waking to see the other in bed with Alois looking down at him. In fact, Alois wasn't in the bed as Alexandre hazily noticed as one hand lazily moved about the bed and found nothing but warm sheets.
Yawning it was a struggle to open tired eyes but slowly they opened. It was glassy, sleepy, slate eyes which drifted open and started to look around the room in a most lazy manner. Stretching out under the others bedding he let his body tense, soreness and stiffness ignored for the moment, before he relaxed into the others mattress and let his one searching arm stop it's useless search for a body. Laying now out across the others bed he cast his eyes toward the window in the hopes of judging the time, as useless an endeavor that might be, and instead was greeted with the sight of his Captain.
After a moment spent convincing his body to move, that it wasn't tired but just waking, he managed to sit himself up slowly. Shifting his weight, to compensate for sore areas, he tilted his head while hiding a yawn behind a hand. The others sheet thankfully pooled in his lap. "Alois...?" Would the other shout at him? Freak out? He knew he should be freaking out, normally he would be, but right now he was waiting to see how the other reacted before he did anything plus Alexandre was really too tired, sore, and beat up to do much at the moment in the way of freaking out. His mind hadn't even fully caught up, as it seemed to still be partially asleep.
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Posted: Sun Jun 09, 2013 1:43 am
The blonde's single call roused him from his turbulent thoughts, from the equally muddled smoke wafting from his cigarette. His feverish gaze darted to meet blank slate eyes. Alois' expression softened; he looked almost crestfallen, framed against the sickly light of the street lamp outside his window. He thought about speaking, drew a breath to explain himself, but only sighed afterward. How could he hope to portray the swirling thoughts that plagued him? How could he explain his actions prior to his awakening in the middle of the night? He couldn't, so why bother trying?
Slowly he looked to the floor. He needed something neutral, something predictable and unmoving, to stabilize him. Just this once. He needed a crutch, just this once. Something must support him, and he held no more reasons to stand upon. All foundations shook, split and rocky, and provided no more strength for him. He had nothing more to rely upon, except a lasting addiction.
Still, Alexandre was searching for answers. Answers he couldn't provide. Perhaps it was his imagination, but the boy looked so needy while he sat in bed, hair astray from recent events, and watching Alois expectantly. He looked exhausted, disheveled, almost beaten but very slightly, almost imperceptibly, invigorated. Only his gaze belied that small alteration. However, inwardly Alois realized he couldn't possibly bestow any kind of change in the blonde, and his perceptions of such were likely machinations of his own frazzled mind. The only person changed by his actions was himself, not Alexandre, not anyone else.
Alois sighed, albeit shakily. "Ich hab das Vergangene nicht vergessen, dennoch will ich heute leben*." It was a phrase only he understood, but it lent him some measure of grace after repeating it. Some relief. A small reprieve from the incessant guilt and confusion. Guilt? No - fear.
Cold, primal fear.
Whether Alexander understood it or not, Alois left himself open in a very vulnerable position. Now that the other man caught a glimps of his inner self, he had every tool necessary to critically wound the black-haired captain. Not only that, but Alois yielded no reasons to hold back in doing so. Should any atrocious verbal assaults lacerate his pride and philosophies, he would have to live with it. The thought of it petrified him.
Another long pause ensued before he finally elected to speak in a language they'd both understand. After another drag, another respire through the abysmally battered window screen, he finally found the gumption to respond. "Alexandre," he returned, in a quiet tone, almost a whisper. "Tread lightly."
*I haven't forgotten the past, but I want to live today.
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Posted: Sun Jun 09, 2013 2:12 am
Maybe he was seeking answers, from himself and the other. He wasn't looking to know if this, what had transpired, would go beyond the here and now. He didn't even think to. He was fairly sure Alois not only wasn't gay, maybe bisexual, but wasn't interested in more than what they'd already shared. But also Alexandre himself wasn't so sure what he even wanted - in general. Months ago he'd have said he wanted a relationship. Now though he wasn't sure he wanted that or that it was something he should even have.
A relationship with a civilian wasn't a safe idea, even if it would be a bit of normalcy injected into his less than normal life, but the secrets, hidden injuries, stresses he couldn't talk about. How long could a relationship like that last? Not long, he was sure of it. And would he be willing to commit to a short term thing? Maybe...maybe for that slice of normal. And that was if the person even was a real civilian, he couldn't very well ask. As for a relationship with someone on his side in the war...there was the worry over splitting himself in a big battle, between them and their safety and his own fighting. He wasn't sure he could do it, in fact he was fairly sure he couldn't, he'd already proven time and again that he acted on emotions when they got too high.
So maybe a relationship wasn't a good idea, or he should let one fall into his lap and cling to it for the short spell it lasted. Until then...until then maybe he should settle for things like this? Enjoy what life offered him when it offered him things.
His thoughts had been wandering toward these concluding thoughts for some time now. Private thoughts he kept locked up tight most of the time, only deeming them worthy of pondering when he was up late at night. They had really started after Bazzite. Questioning if he was worthy of certain things, including love and a relationship with someone. He'd said no back then but now he could accept that maybe he was worthy of it...but it wasn't something he was going to have right now - a relationship and love. He'd let it find him and right now - tonight - it hadn't and wouldn't.
So he didn't seek to ask the other about that, about if this would become something. He didn't want to know and didn't care to. Instead the blond shifted and gave a tug to the others sheets as he pulled from out from where they were tucked under the mattress. Once freed he used them for covering as he went to find his boxers, on the floor by the door, and pulling them on the sheet was tossed onto the bed where it landed in a haphazard pile of cooling fabric.
Bare feet slowly closed the distance between himself and Alois. The others words washed over him as he tilted his head, mused bangs fell and scattered across his face. A small, but soft, smile bestowed upon the other. "Don't worry, I don't intend to hurt you. Just talk to me, you seem to need to." He spoke in a soft voice. There seemed to be some still in the air around them, some calm like during a rainstorm, which he didn't want to burst right now. Like rain calmed him so was he calm right now. Seating himself in the others bay window seat he looked up at him, watched him smoke in silence.
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Posted: Sun Jun 09, 2013 2:39 am
For a time, only his breathing disturbed the silence. A necessity, he supposed, but still one small blemish wrought by his existence. He marred the ambience just as he marred every other aspect of his life, every infinitesimal location he touched, every individual he passed. Perhaps he was a cancer tainting all kinds of people, carried on the whims of fate and used as a tool to enact wrongdoing and travesty. By the will of destiny, he was inherently evil. Though he claimed to accept that fact, it was only him lying across the tracks professing bravery.
Now came the train.
But how could he explain every intricacy of his ever-churning thoughts to his roommate-turned-lover? They shared a moment, but it failed to produce a solid connection. If anything, its pure contrast sharpened his solitude to a lethal point. Any moment his lungs would shatter beneath its unyielding sharpness, and his breath would dissipate with the night air, broken and fractured with his wild, almost frantic musings. With every exhale, he felt the pain, threatening to betray him and leave him wounded and drowning in his own miseries.
After another much-needed drag, if only to stifle his nerves for a moment longer, Alois turned to regard his companion. Bedraggled, to be certain, but strangely relaxed. Alois should mimic that look, but inwardly he knew he mirrored his own uncertainties. His sister commented before that he wore his emotions easily, no matter how hard he tried to hide them. C'est la vie, as the french say.
"How can I put into words what is better expressed in piano?" He asked rhetorically. "I'm finding it hard to give voice to soughts zat never seem to cease."
He clung to composure like coma patients clung to life support. Perhaps it wasn't even a choice matter. It was a necessity - without some semblance of calmness, Alois would cease to exist. Lost in an undiscovered dimension, or simply washed out by time and weathering. He couldn't put words to it; maybe it wasn't time to articulate such abstract thoughts right now. Only the thrill of battle could sweep those compounding intricacies from his mind.
After smoking his cigarette to the filter, he popped the bottom of the screen and tossed the remainder out the window and into the neighbor's yard. He knew they'd come bitching about it in the morning, and he'd have a means to take out his frustrations at himself for this obvious lapse in good judgement. The two didn't mesh well together, and as much as he yearned for solace in human company, fate had other plans for him. His life was that of a martyr's, and he knew from the start of this journey that he was destined to die alone. Though his passing would signify volumes, he knew that ultimately his attempts at connection would never come to fruition.
After shutting the window, he turned away from the serene sight of the street and padded through the bedroom. Idly he considered getting dressed as he walked over his clothes, but he immediately dismissed the thought as far too much work and far too awkward given their current social standing. Instead, he descended the stairs despite the ache of bruising and heightened physical activity, and found his way to the piano in the living room. He sat on its algid, unforgiving bench and straightened up, if only from the urge to shy away from such frigid leather.
Alois' fingers found middle C with no difficulty. Even in the dim light of stars, he felt the keys' familiarity. Years of practice and ceaseless study graced him with the knowledge of notes absent sight, and even in the presence of Alexandre, he began striking out a melody, melancholic and brooding in nature. He pedaled easily, and the intermixed harmony was laced with hope, though remained more neutral beside the melody. Each note fell into place like pieces of a puzzle, slowly forming a larger picture of a highly complicated piece, one that bore several emotions blended to portray a cacophony of the soul.
At least, this once, he laid bare his emotions.
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Posted: Sun Jun 09, 2013 2:44 pm
Slate eyes watched the other, waiting to see what more Alois would say, surely he would speak and say something. It was in the interest of not bursting this precious calm that Alexandre did not speak but waited, his brain fully waking and thoughts starting to whirl about. What was Alois thinking? Was he alright? To speak words like that tread lightly had to mean something was amiss, right? But what and could he help? For a moment he did consider speaking, braking the silence, and questioning the other. But he held back, refrained, as he sat as still as he could and kept eyes on the other.
Something seemed amiss with the other but he couldn't place his finger on it. He was good with reading people, with going to as many social events as he did and watching the people you got good at it, but it was hard to read Alois. What went on inside his mind? He saw the person who pulled pranks on him, who was threatening and seemed harsh and cold, blunt, and forceful. But that had never sat well with him as it didn't make sense, not when coupled with the others playing of the piano and the pieces he seemed to pick. It didn't work with tonight either - with right now. There was a mask there and that had been what he'd been looking at so often...or maybe it was just one half of a whole personality? Whichever the case may be he was seeing the other side, or under the mask, right now and he didn't know that well enough. It was uncharted territory and he had no compass to guide him so he waited for Alois to guide him, in the hopes that he could help the other as it seemed he needed it.
Smiling as the other spoke he nodded his head slowly, a gentle motion. "Some say the arts are an outlet for emotions, for feelings. And other people say actions speak the loudest. So the piano would be the best, if it's hard to give voice to the words." He spoke, his voice low and soft. A blink of his eyes, an involuntary action, as Alois mentioned thoughts never ceasing and being unable to voice them. Did that much go on in the others head? Was he something more complex than he'd been thinking, and he already thought there was a lot more to him than met the eye.
Slipping off the bench seat he stood slowly and waited for Alois to finish his cigarette before they could head downstairs. He would listen to the other play, and pray that he got the message Alois was trying to convey. He didn't want to miss a thing, to fail somehow.
As Alois finished and made his way across the bedroom floor Alexandre followed at a slower pace. Keeping a few steps behind he grabbed his pants as they got into the hallway. Hurriedly the pants were pulled on, his shirt forgotten, and he continued his following of the dark haired male. Alexandre's mind slowly filling with concern, worry, and questions for the other. What was going on in Alois' mind? What was bothering him which he could not put words to? So many thoughts that as he gingerly made his way down the stairs he nearly missed the bottom step. It was only his mind jolting from his thoughts to his situation that kept him from tripping and face planting into the floor.
Watching as Alois took to the bench Alexandre found himself a seat near to the other and gently sat himself down. His attention on the other, fully, as he waited with baited breath for Alois to start.
It was as Alois started to play that the melancholy melody struck him. That was the first, and easiest thing to pick up, next was the brooding nature of the piece. But beyond that he had issues. He wasn't as well versed in music as some people were, like Lily and Alois apparently, couldn't play it and didn't know the names of pieces. It took him longer to puzzle out the meanings of pieces. But he could puzzle out meanings and get them.
"Alois..." Whispering the others name softly. It really did sound sad to him, over all.
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Posted: Sun Jun 09, 2013 8:39 pm
When he finished his piece, with the notes still resonating through out the hollow, empty house, he paused and refrained from looking toward his roommate. Instead, he bestowed his contemplations upon the keys, trusting their polished ivory surface to keep him. To restrain him. He hoped that by turning his resignations to the simplicity - no, the complexity - of the instrument awaiting his next movements, that he might find some measure of grace. This singular entity, composed almost entirely of wood, bore a thousand revelations and inspirations and contemplations, far older than any he possibly surmised. Yet now, it simply waited with bated breath.
Everything waited, suspended, surreal.
And in turn, Alois waited. He waited for Alexandre to pull him through time. To anchor him to some semblance of reality, some frail hope to regain the smallest ounce of composure. He couldn't place this strange metamorphosis taking place within him. He couldn't name its start, nor could he articulate the culminating changes. Was it due to the chaos energy? To the starseed? To their singular dance outside the confines of time? He didn't know - he didn't venture a guess. Maybe it simply wasn't important.
Maybe the 'why' never mattered. Maybe the 'what' never mattered. Maybe the 'when' never mattered.
With every passing second, he shed another skin. Every fraction of his mind yielded to the plethora of revelations he sought under the name of Bischofite, and in time those revelations quelled all rational thought. Or maybe he finally came unto rational thinking? Maybe this utter, blackened, despairing husk of himself was truly an attempt toward the apex of his being. Another step. A final overture before the finale. But shouldn't these welling feelings immerse him in some form of euphoria? Shouldn't he feel the same indescribable rush, the same ascendance to heaven he felt the night before?
No.
No.
He scathed for such pleasures.
Alois now understood that every motion, every routine resulted in the same utter failure of scraping his life with bloodied nails. Even with the language of song, how could he possibly begin explaining such ancient, convoluted atrocities to the blonde? How could he expect Alexandre to listen? Despite what transpired between them - in spite of what transpired between them - they remained at an even greater distance than before.
Wann bin ich Daheim? The words formed, but failed to articulate. Failed to pass the barrier between mind and mouth.
The silence stretched thin, doubled back, broke its spine, all in the name of distancing the two. Finally Alois spoke, dispelling its same old songs. "Alexandre..." He started. An even breath. A sigh, not quite comforting. "Go back to bed."
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Posted: Sun Jun 09, 2013 11:24 pm
Shaking his head the blond rose, slowly and with as much grace as he could, and it was on silent bare feet that he approached slowly. As if under some spell, or in some surreal world were the air stopped moving and time had stopped. Perhaps it was a spell cast upon the house, rather than them? Whatever it was he didn't want to shatter it. It seemed precious in a way like the wings of a butterfly or maybe a dragonfly,. He was hoping that so long as this, whatever it was, didn't shatter he could get more than a peek behind the mask Alois wore. He was hoping to figure him out, to find more pieces to the puzzle so he could start to configure them into something sensible. If he could do that, if he could assemble even a little more of the puzzle, he could help him and understand him.
Hands shook as one rose and came to rest on the others shoulder in such a feather light manner. And turning he sat at the others side, his back to the piano. "No, I think I'll stay here by your side." He whispered before turning to look at the others profile.
Smiling softly he gave the others shoulder a gentle squeeze. "I can't leave someone who needs me. Your song is a troubled one...a sad one. There is a lot in it and I wish to know it - all of it. I wish to know you - Alois, Bischofite." Were this a movie scene this would lead to kissing, embracing, tears, and a repeat of earlier in the evening. But they were not lovers, not beyond earlier this evening, and so that cliche would not play out. What would play out was an unknown and it was one he sought to reveal.
"I heard your melody but tell me with words, whatever words they may be, and as jumbled and disjointed as they may be. I want to help and learn." Could he do this? Could he jump into the unknown and keep his head up? Or would he drown? Would Alois drown him or would he help the other? Would he bring Alois out of whatever was drowning him? No matter the outcome it was unknown now and so he had to try, for better or worst, he had to attempt to help the other. So he remained at the others side, a gentle smile directed at the other.
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Posted: Tue Jun 11, 2013 10:20 am
The air hung still, frigid, quiet. As he brushed his fingers over the now silent keys, he felt the magnitude of the ambience. They were no different than the time following a storm, when the earth was steeped in broken aftermath. When the sky drank its fill and whispered around all things, living and dead, in a quenched and languid sigh. Was that right? No, it was more sinister than that. They endured the manifestation of a storm, in all its wracking hate and unmarred beauty. This air yielded no calm afterward, no quietude to reassemble themselves.
This was the calm of death.
Death of what? He didn't know - maybe he wasn't meant to know. For once he didn't breech that ignorance, didn't dispel it in favor of some inkling of an idea. Death begot certainty, and he was satisfied with that, because certainty begot predictability. And as each thought swirled and bridged its connections, he pressed a single key. Each key yielded a tentative venture into the silence, a quest for answers never asked. The keys formed a melody, chaotic and enigmatic in its tone. And finally, moments later, that melody died off in the harmony of understanding, in the realization of the manner by which he'd finally retrieve the revelations he sought.
"Alexandre," he started, once the final note petered out. "When I slept last night I dreamt ze same sings I always haf', like zis... Eternal loop. It starts out zat I'm in some kind of dead realm, except everything exists outside of deas' if zat makes sense. I start walking because somesing compels me to do it, and I follow zat command unquestioningly. Zen I start to deviate - I get scared, or maybe suspicious, so I duck into ze trees, if you could call zem zat. I follow ze forest, and I stray from ze pas'. But, as I keep going, I start to decompose - the skin sloughs off my feet, my muscles fray, my bones collapse in on zemselfs and I find myself crawling until I wear my fingers away. Until I'm just some pile of... Mulch. And every time, I wake up after hardly anysing is left of me." He paused and struck a note, emphasizing its finality. "But zis time, I kept dreaming. And afterward, it was incredible - even zough nossing remained of me, I became part of zis place, and I could see and feel it from all angles, like I was finally part of somesing. And I knew what it was like to exist beyond time, beyond existence, beyond mortal restraint. I knew what it was like to be endless and eternal. It's a feeling I cannot even begin to explain to you.
"But as we sit here, I know now zat ze dream is gone, it was just an illusion. Maybe I can learn somesing from it, or maybe it means nossing. Doesn't matter, I suppose." However, he surmised that by the end of the dream, he became death itself. And death wasn't a skeleton in a cloak wielding a scythe - death was a destination. Death was a vessel, a means of accessing transcendence. If he could become death, then he could become revelations.
He could become something so feared, so grand, so vast and so inspiring.
Alois breathed an even sigh, and with it he dispelled that sense of tragedy, he embraced that sense of enlightenment. "Alexandre, I sink I'm finally understanding it." With his fingers splayed across the ivory keys once more, he began a simple, tentative melody. A shy tune that ventured meekly into the silence. And with each step, it grew in its steadfast motivations, and blossomed into a more confident song. It grew with emotion, swelling inspiration. "Solitude is a curious sing, Alex. I kind of like it." Because with it came revelations, and those revelations brought a sense of unconscionable inspiration. He keyed into it during his performance. "You said my song is troubled and sad - maybe it is, maybe it's mourning all ze sings it killed in order to come to fruition. Maybe it mourns ze silence zat died.
"Or maybe it's all just some petty little scheme."
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Posted: Tue Jun 11, 2013 1:10 pm
The silence which had descended upon the room was thick, heavy even, as he sat there and watched the other. Moments slipped by and turned to minutes, or so it felt, as the stillness was left intact and un-punctured and undisturbed by the rooms two sole inhabitants. Cadha had to be somewhere, maybe he was in the room even? But Alexandre didn't think on the whereabouts of the little black terrier. His focus, his complete and utter devotion, was settled upon Alois as he waited with baited breath.As Alois tapped down key after key, breaking the silence, Alexandre was able to find some measure of comfort in that. The silence had been too much, too dense, and had also been something he didn't dare disrupt and shatter.
Why was it that he couldn't find it within himself to shatter the silence, to bring it to an end and fill the air with some form of noise? To give life to words and thoughts when all else seemed dead in the room. It was an answer that was simple and yet not so simple. It was just that it felt wrong, that the silence felt sacred in some manner and that to disturb it would be wrong, a sin of some sort. And so he had left it to Alois to shatter it slowly and in a fitting manner. As notes punctured the silence and then Aloi's voice and the silence shattered.
Listening intently he let the mental image grow, to give lift to itself as Alois' words washed over him. Slowly, without realizing it, his eyes had drifted shut as the image and the scene played out for him behind closed lids. It may not have been a pretty, or even beautiful, mental image in a visual sense but in another sense it was beauty and life and so many other things. As Alois seemed to finish speaking, finish describing the dream to him he let his eyes drift open are easily as they had drifted closed only moments before. He couldn't agree with Alois, didn't draw the same conclusions, but they weren't the same people. They didn't have the same life experiences, environments which had nurtured them, and all manner of other things differed between them.He wanted to speak, to tell Alois what he took from the dream, what he saw, and the beauty in it.
Was he really understanding it? What had he taken from it? What messages had Alois gleaned from this dream which had plagued his sleep for so long? He wanted to ask, wanted to know, and learn from the other and lean of the other. Surely to learn of how one interpreted things would help you learn of them and how they thought. What could he learn of the other if he asked and was answered? What did he hope to learn he knew not but he wanted to learn and to see what the other saw, even if it wasn't what he saw. His eyes, his mind, would never show him what Alois' eyes and mind showed him. But if Alois could tell him he could understand and see with someone else's eyes and mind if only for a short while. And from that he could learn of the other person.But the questions never came to fruition, were never asked, were aborted before their conception.
"I like solitude but only for short periods of time. To spend so much time inside ones own mind while enlightening is also dangerous." He whispered into the short distance between them. Alexandre had spent plenty of time thinking and getting lost in his own mind, drowning in his own emotions, and for what? To cause himself suffering, to question himself, to feel helplessly adrift at sea. A person should let themselves enter their own mind but not for long periods of time, it lead down dangerous and dark paths, paths riddled with gouges were the ground had been removed like a divot only no horse nor club had caused it. "Or perhaps it mourns simply because it always has and cannot remember what for?" He ventured gently. "Maybe it mourns what it wishes to be and does not know how to become?"
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Posted: Mon Jun 17, 2013 12:50 am
Alois didn't hesitate in his melodies while he spoke. "I sink I know where you're coming from. You're referring to how troubled you became over your friend's deas', yes? But zis isn't ze same... I'm not looking at myself as ze sole catalyst for someone's demise, and I'm not blaming myself for somesing I couldn't possibly be responsible for. It's different from you, Alex." However, his introspection shared some similarities. He questioned his place in life, in fate, all the same. And, perhaps, they suffered from it in the same way.
Finally he ceased his playing and shut the lid of the piano, obscuring its ivory keys. He propped his elbows up on its black lacquered surface and pressed his hands together in quiet reflection. "And about last night... It was a verrückter Fehler. I won't tell you what zat means, and maybe I don't haf' to. Draw your own conclusions." He still struggled to find his own. Was he just seizing an opportunity that had yet to present itself? Or was he just trying to destroy something? It must've been the latter, that under the guide of a starseed's energy, he sought destruction. But what?
Ich will meine Welt zerstören, he thought to himself. It felt comforting, in a twisted way.
Alois stood, shrugging off the boy's thin, almost frail, hand. He understood with a measure of certainty that he sought to damage their relationship. Perhaps he was successful - it was impossible for them to revert to the simplistic dynamic they shared before. All the cigarette butts left in pots, all the incense oils replaced with alcoholic beverages, all the fake spiders planted in the fridge... These small gestures symbolized their meager bond. However, in one night he managed to alter that. Perhaps it was out of a growing respect for the boy, but to murder any chances of a lighthearted friendship seemed a bizarre way to condone respect. There must be something more to it than that.
There had to be more to life than that. There had to be more to his actions than that. If destruction were his path, perhaps he sought to destroy himself more than any connection with the blonde. But there were more apparent, more successful, avenues for that.
I want to dig a subterranean passage.
Some progress must be made. My station up here is much too high.
Just the two of them.
It felt painfully accurate. Sharp. Lethal in its finality. He understood the superfluous nature of his actions, yet paradoxically, they were an imperative change. A necessary sacrifice. Maybe the blonde wouldn't see it that way, maybe he would cling to that fleeting moment for some measure of connection between the two, despite the steadily lengthening distance between them. Maybe it would remain nothing at all but a shallow scar on the surface of their interactions. He couldn't say.
"Alex." He paused, seizing the opportunity to draw some strength from his resignation. "Togezzer we are digging ze pit of Babel."
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Posted: Sat Jul 06, 2013 1:41 am
Could two people from vastly different paths be alike? How could they not be? Everyone suffered in some way and that alone, the fact they suffered, made them similar. It was how they suffered which differed. It was the same with pleasure and every other emotion and sort of experience. Everyone experienced and felt them and yet all in differing ways and under different circumstances. It was saying that they were similar because they both lived - to put it simply. "Yes, it is different but we still both suffer and yet you understand just as I believe I do as well." At least he thought he did to a point. He did question his own understanding of the other but he questioned himself a lot about understanding the other; he was just complex and not easy to read or figure out.
"Though I honestly was talking more about you...though I got my answer. I still do wonder." He spoke with a gentle, calm, smile as he watched the other. As the keys were obscured from view, not that he'd really been watching them, he shook his head. "I'm not sure what to make of last night other than it being something I wanted - oddly enough." As out of character as it was for him, just like the other time he'd been so sudden in such manner. This time though he enjoyed it, all of it, including the aftermath unlike the last time he'd done something this sudden and rash. He didn't have any regrets actually. He simply didn't know what he felt about it, he didn't want to think about it really, he just wanted to enjoy this calm right now.
Meager bond? Spiders in the fridge had sent him into the others room at night looking for a bed to sleep in so the nightmares would allow him more than an hour or two's shut eye. It was an odd bond to be certain, how could it not be? But he'd never seen it as meager. Actually he was fairly close to Alois in his own opinion, even if sometimes he wanted to throw something at him or shout at him. He'd tried, and failed, with scolding him over the cigarette butts in his plant pots. The other didn't seem to care when he joined him in bed in order to hide from his spider filled nightmares, which he'd originally thought would get him shouted out and hit. It had been in a hurry, so as to avoid the shouting and thrown fist that he was sure would come, that Alexandre had on that first night told the other it was his own fault for this happening. If Alois hadn't put the spiders in the fridge he wouldn't be waking him up seeking comfort in the company of another person; or possibly bothering him during the night.
No, it wasn't meager just very complicated and odd. And odd as it was he clung to it, found some measure of comfort in it. The other had pulled him out of his own self induced punishment and he had regained a hold of who he was, he had questioned his own taint and how good it was? How good he was! He had always, till then, felt that despite his side sounding bad and the energy being chaotic that he was on the right side of things and his power was for good, and not in some cliche super hero sort of way. Alois had helped him, even if he had not meant to and had only been seeking to attack him - which he doubted. The other had seemed adamant about him pulling himself out of the hole he'd dug himself into. The other cared...right? Not love, never love, but as a friend? A deep friendship? And what...they hadn't been friends when he'd first corrupted Alois. So what then? What reason, excuse, could he appoint to why the other had helped him? Just anger at his failing General? He didn't like that even if it was true.
Broken from his thoughts he shook his head and sent the other a smile. "And if we are? Should we care?" Assuming Babel meant hell, what else could it mean. "I believe that if what we did is us digging such a hole...then I've dug far more than you and you have a lot of digging to do to catch up to me." Perhaps he shouldn't say such things, refer to the kills he'd made, and yet he did with such ease and even a teasing smile sent up to the others standing figure.
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Posted: Mon Jul 08, 2013 4:50 pm
Oddly enough.
The words scalded his cochleae. Was that notion really so farfetched? Was there something wrong with him that might require such a dismissive response? In all the time they'd been around each other, Alois recognized that he often got under the blonde's skin, but never enough to warrant being brushed off in such an offhanded manner. Alois recognized he wasn't a terribly attractive person, but why dismiss attraction in such a manner?
Oddly enough, he didn't know.
However, Alexandre didn't linger on the subject, and neither did he. Apparently the blonde hadn't heard the story of Babel, though that didn't surprise him. The boy never seemed the religious type, as he lacked all form of symbolism in his house. On top of that, he thought it prudent that trained killers remained atheist - any remorse due to a set of morals instituted by a single book proved a detriment to their missions. Perhaps it was for the best that Alexandre never recognized the name or the story.
"It's not about zat," he shook his head. "Babel - or Babylon - was ze pinnacle of man's creation. It was a large tower extending to ze heavens, built under one man, in an attempt to elevate mankind to equality wis' God's domain. And zey lived around zis grandiose building, spend night and day on it, and finally God grew tired of zeir hubris and halted progress by splitting man's language into many. Wis'out ze ability to communicate, zey went to war instead, and ze tower was never finished. In some accounts it crumbled into nossing, as mankind was far too preoccupied wis' ruining each ozzer to finish ze task.
"But... Zere's a different side to it," he stalled, his gaze fixed on something far beyond the blonde. "To build ze tower is to bring mankind closer to holiness. We lack zat greater drive; as we participate, we find ze height against our liking. We can't, as we are, reach ze heavens. So we dig a pit - and if zat claustrophobia does not crowd us out, zen collectively..." He trailed off. "It's a perversion of clamoring for piety, but at ze same time, ze act of building ze tower is treacherous to God. By digging closer to hell... even as we approach it, perhaps it sustains zat loyalty to God in some way. It's a convoluted meaning, even harder for me to explain in English, but maybe you got somesing out of it."
All Alois gleaned from it was he needed to work on his Enlgish.
"We might be hellbound, but it doesn't haf' to be a bad sing." However, after realizing the extent of the explanation he gave his the blonde, he almost laughed at himself. "Listen to me, what ze hell am I saying? What nonsense."
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Posted: Tue Jul 09, 2013 1:06 am
Had he known the words he spoke would bother the other he would have added to it, spoken more, but he hadn't known and had continued on as he had. Last night, only a few hours ago really, was something he simply wasn't sure on and didn't want to speak on fully till he had a better clue on how he felt about it. Though if asked he would admit it was good and something to be repeated; but he wasn't asked and topics changed by his own doing.
Babel...Babylon? He's heard of Babylon, the hanging gardens of Babylon, but beyond that nothing. He'd seen pictures depicting ideas of what it could have looked like, and other things, plus he knew it to be some ancient city. Being clueless as he was and with Alois having knowledge on this, where did he learn such things? Alex listened to the other speak.
"I've honestly never heard that story - I'm clueless when it comes to religion. All I know is the holidays we get off because of it and the bare minimum basics." He admitted with a sheepish look given to the other. "But the story...it's interesting. The whole concept is actually interesting..." Trailing off as he appeared thoughtful, and he was thinking over the story actually. "Did the people build it to be near to god? As well as be equals to him?" He asked perhaps suddenly. He honestly wondered what else was in the story, as he looked for reason to dislike God's role in it. For some reason he sought to dislike God and sought to favor the side of the people who built the tower; it wasn't some immature reason as he hated religion and disliked it and everything it stood for. He wasn't the sort to scream and spew hate for religion and disbelief in God. He'd leave such things to other people, people lacking in maturity. But for God to do something which led to wars and death and more? Being all powerful wouldn't he have seen that would be the result? Could he hate his people so much that he would cause them to go to war with each other; to sin and condemn themselves to hell then what did it matter what anyone did? If God were real, which he severely doubted, then it didn't matter - nothing did. But that was all only possible if God, heaven, hell and everything else were real - and it wasn't as far as he was concerned.
"I would say, if the story is real...and my opinion on it is a good one than we are all damned to hell regardless of what we do. By God's own hand all the way back then. So no matter what we do there is only one place for us - so no it's not a bad thing as there is nothing else for us. So we might as well enjoy the path we pave to hell." Shaking his head he smiled. "Nonsense only because I don't believe in God, hell, heaven - or religion at all. But it is still interesting and something interesting and worth debating honestly. Have you ever considered college?" As he was sure they would have classes that would interest the other, and put his brilliant mind to use.
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Posted: Thu Jul 11, 2013 7:16 pm
"I guess it's pretty damn obvious I work at a bookstore now, eh? I'f' heard all sorts of strange stories like zat. But ze bible ones... Zey're interesting in zeir own right. As for Babel, ze goal was to raise man closer to God. Depending on ze interpretation, it lends to zeir desire to be equals. Ultimately it's hubris - plain and simple. Man overreaches, and falls as a result. Zat leaves people like us, eternally damned for crimes of ze past, as you said. And perhaps we deserf' it in our own way, given our crimes of ze present." He had more to voice on the subject, but continuing on such a tangent seemed irrelevant.
Instead, he drummed his fingers on the case covering the piano keys. "College is not ze place for people like me. It's mean for zose wis' a future, or at least some tolerance for people." He flashed the blonde a sardonic smile before brushing past him on his way toward the bedroom.
Alois paused when he reached the stairs and examined Alexandre unabashedly from across the room. The blonde stood framed in the faint twilight of early morning, standing lithe, yet gracefully against the windows. He looked tired, but not overly so. Not like he did when he subjected himself to ceaseless punishment and misery. Perhaps he still dwelled on what happened earlier, and Alois wouldn't blame him for that. "Some sings happen for no reason." He replied, more to his own reflections than Alexandre's. Without waiting for the boy's response, he ascended the stairs toward the bedrooms.
Normally he regretted impulsive decisions like these. He understood with certainty that he complicated their already tenuous relationship even further, but this grave mistake didn't yield the same air of animosity he'd come to expect. If anything, he half-expected the blonde to join him once more to sleep away the remaining hours of the dwindling night. Or perhaps they would continue in denial, forsaking the whole experience and treating each other with the same disrespect prior to last night. He didn't know. However, he understood that if he continued to dwell on the future, then sleep remained a foreign concept for the rest of the surreal morning.
"Hey, Alex!" Alois shouted over the banister. "Zere's a spider in your bed! And I'm not joking zis time." Lies didn't qualify as jokes.
And for once, he didn't mind a little company.
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