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 Posted: Mon Aug 12, 2013 12:15 pm
Iron made his way through the abandoned subway, to the Shrine. The Goddess was there, although she looked pretty busy.
He twisted his hands around his weapon.
"Uh, Goddess?"
She pushed a bag into his hands. With some hesitation, he opened it.
"There's nothing in here," he said, turning it towards her demonstratively. A small error. His own heart clenched. Like the Errors that had been attacking them? Like the ones who had almost- she handed him a pair of scissors and hurried him on his way.
"But," he said, and she just beamed at him.
He went on inside.
Maybe after he brought it back, she'd be in more of a question-answering mood.
There were several doors, and he remembered the first door. It had changed everything. Doors were important. Maybe this was what he was looking for. Some of them looked friendlier than others. But yellow was his color, and it meant knowing. Even if it was bad. Even if it was scary. It was better to know.
He stepped through the door.
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Posted: Mon Aug 12, 2013 2:56 pm
There's a body.
It's not made of mist. It's real, and solid, and when Iron grasps it, it doesn't shift or give way. He feels flimsy in comparison. It must have been something the goddess made all over with hearts-
but it hadn't pulled through.
And she'd said there was only one heart. And he was supposed to take it. It wasn't nice, and it wasn't pretty, but he used the scissors like the goddess asked and sawed through, to get to the thumping sound and fill his bag. He kept cutting.
A hand wrapped around his arm.
The hand's nails were painted, and it had on thick, spiked armbands. It spoke, yelled, screamed - Harrison - then with a shudder, fell back.
They're under the bleachers, and they've just lost. They're covered in sweat, and they have to be on the bus back to the school. It's late at night. Once they're dropped off, Harrison will have to bike home. He doesn't mind. Everybody's too bummed about the game to be paying any attention to them.
His hands wander under Nick's jersey, and Nick twists his rattail with his fingers.
Nick's pissed, he can feel it, the game was close. Harrison kisses him anyway. <******** Pirates," Nick says, and what Harrison wants most is a smoke. He agrees and kisses Nick again instead. He thinks about how his life would be if they both signed with the Major Leagues. A scout would be in the bleachers, right above where they were kissing, and pick them up, and they'd be on baseball cards and sign million dollar contracts. Play overstates and maybe even overseas. Not tonight, though. A scout wouldn't have been impressed tonight. Nick swung and missed more than he hit, and none of the pitchers were scared of him when he stormed up to the plate.
But they should have been.
When he hit, he hit hard.
Harrison hadn't been on his game. The adrenaline had left him cold and tired, and he hadn't been able to hit his stride. It was just one of those nights.
Nick was angry, and he was weary, and they leaned against each other in the dark.
Iron is looking down at Nick, whose black hair is swept to one side. His eyes are closed. He doesn't move again. Iron cuts again, slower, afraid, the memory still with him.
A lot of it hadn't meant anything.
He doesn't understand.
He cuts the heart free, and the thumping stops. He hopes it's supposed to do that. He wants to understand. He wants to know.
Iron puts the heart in the bag.
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Posted: Mon Aug 12, 2013 3:43 pm
Iron walks back, replaying the memory, making sense of it in pieces. There were a lot of words he didn't recognize. The feelings were new, too, but he understood parts of them.
Somebody is following him.
Was this here before? What is it? Something cold, not mist, thicker, and deep, it's just at his ankles, at first.
Please give it back.
He turns. There's nobody. "He's not using it," he says, "He's not even...proper. He didn't make it." He waits. There's no answer. He keeps walking.
The water seizes his knees, then his chest. Where's the door? It's almost over his head, and he cranes his neck-
Please give me back my-
"I already told you-"
Hands are pushing him under. He doesn't want to go under. He starts to drift apart, and he fights back.
"It's that poolhouse, isn't it?" Harrison asks, and Nick smiles with one side of his mouth, putting down thin layers of paint on a broad canvas.
Harrison hadn't been inside the poolhouse. He got feelings about places. One time he requested to change hotel rooms while they were at an away game. Another he outright refused to use a locker room. The guys said he was superstitious. Nick said he was sensitive, but at least Nick listened.
Sometimes around those places, people or animals would get hurt or go missing. And Harrison wasn't surprised.
But the menacing place Nick was painting, that was definitely that ******** Poolhouse.
The painting is of a melting landscape, with twisted spires of earth and bone (porcelain), and in the background, several hazy green suns. They look like they're underwater. There is a single, small, sickly-looking horse in the foreground. Its just a blobby sketch, for now, but Nick will lay on tiny, aggressive detail later. Its hair is long and tangled, and its ribs stick out. It looks like it has been walking the landscape a long time.
Nick has been drawing these scenes since Harrison has known him. He does other s**t, studies, figures, bowls of fruit. Harrison's sat for charcoal sketches, sitting cold in the room's oversized armchair with nothing but a sheet over his lap. But Nick always comes back to the landscapes.
Most people don't get them, but for Harrison, it's easy. They're just places. The dark, winding red one, deep and black and pitted, that's Nick's house. He even painted in his mom's garden, albeit in bare, lonely patches. The menacing rocks look like windows. That painting is empty, there's no people.
Harrison wraps his arms around Nick's middle, and grins.
"You should put armor on the horse," he says.
And for him, Nick mixes up orange paint.
Nick bares his teeth, and Iron is drowning. They didn't stay together. Nick had told him in plain words that they were going different directions. That he was never going anywhere at all. He was going to be stuck in the same ******** town, while Nick had plans, ambitions...
He's falling apart, and doesn't have his throat together enough to call for help.
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Posted: Mon Aug 12, 2013 3:54 pm
He still has the scissors, though, he has that, and like he has so many times before, he readies his arm, swings back-
Nick's gone.
The water's gone too.
Iron lies on the floor, coughing it out of his mouth and nose, and gripping the bag so tight he's surprised his hand doesn't come apart. He sits a while, sniffing and getting his head back together, when he notices the square of light on the floor.
The door is back.
He gets to his feet, and stumbles over. Behind him, just for a second, are a set of hollow eyes, ringed with eyeliner and gripping the scissors- he leaves. Fighting, painting, kissing, it all whirls in his head as he makes his way to the goddess.
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Toshihiko Two rolled 1 4-sided dice:
4
Total: 4 (1-4)
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Posted: Wed Aug 14, 2013 1:59 pm
It isn't his goddess, but when she talks predator and prey, he knows those were the words he was looking for, talking about the fog creatures. Prey.
She gives him an object that's red and sharp, and he's grateful, because that's always useful.
But he's suspicious. He doesn't know what she wants for it.
She directs him towards a door.
He doesn't think he has much of a choice.
When he wakes up on a slab, he wishes the goddesses would stop jerking him around. He doesn't know what he's forgotten this time, and it makes him angry. It's too bright in here, and there are no colors. He needs to get back to the Ruins, so he walks.
When someone starts following him, he sees who it is, and doesn't recognize them. Doesn't recognize the scissors either. They don't say hi. They speed up. They reach for him...and he gets out of their reach.
"Hey! What's your ******** problem!"
There's a piece of paper, and Iron gets it as he goes past, because it's just about the only other ******** thing in the room.
You're not going anywhere, the figure rasps.
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Toshihiko Two rolled 1 4-sided dice:
2
Total: 2 (1-4)
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Posted: Wed Aug 14, 2013 2:06 pm
There's just no future for us, it sighs, and its nails are black.
"What us? For you maybe," Iron says, picking up the second piece of paper. He puts two and two together, operates the numberpad on the door, and leaves short, black, and creepy behind pretty quickly.
Distance: 40 feet.
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Toshihiko Two rolled 1 4-sided dice:
4
Total: 4 (1-4)
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Posted: Wed Aug 14, 2013 2:16 pm
He's outside. There's trees, which looks...nothing like the Ruins. Where is he?
At least he closed the door, because...
Was that a rustling sound?
My heart.
Iron grips the dagger.
I'll rip out your heart.
"You try it, you little s**t," he growls, walking, and wishing he had a second set of eyes, so the thing couldn't jump him. Somebody to watch his back. But right now all he had was a dagger.
The trees cleared, and there was a bridge. Iron stepped on to the planks. He felt very strongly that somebody should be in charge of keeping this bridge in good condition, but couldn't have said whose job it was. He just felt it should be somebodies.
Creepy stalker guy sure as hell wasn't going to do it.
"Careful, this thing doesn't look too steady." He yells.
Just isn't worth it, came a sinister murmur.
"That's what I'm saying," Iron says, and crosses the bridge without hassle.
Distance: 30 feet.
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Toshihiko Two rolled 1 6-sided dice:
4
Total: 4 (1-6)
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Posted: Wed Aug 14, 2013 2:46 pm
Finally, something that looks like civilization. Not the Ruins, but a building, and it's close enough.
The shadows are strange, though. They look...almost like...
Give it back.
Iron turns around. He grips his knife.
"Look, I told you-"
The dagger glowed a bright and brilliant red.
Harrison hands Nick his favorite shirt, and Nick crams it in the suitcase.
"It's not easy for me either," Nick says.
Nick is lunging for him, scissors bared.
They're in bed, and Nick can be in turns rough and sweet.
The bases are loaded, and Nick sends the ball goes right into the stands, and everybody goes nuts.
Nick's shaking so hard, he's afraid of something, and he won't tell Harrison what the ******** is wrong.
Harrison doesn't even finish the last pack of cigarettes. He just stares at them a while, then throws him out.
The painting is the last thing Nick gave him, and when Harrison goes to the police academy, he leaves it at his mom's house. It's mostly black, with a scifi landscape and an armored knight riding an armored horse. It is not a painting of a place. His mom hates it, and sometimes he does too.
The scissors gleam. The dagger shines.
Iron pushes it right into Nick's chest. Nick cries out another name one last time, and Iron kneels a while, holding the knife and realizing that Nick has disappeared. Is this what he forgot? And if he goes back, will he forget again? Iron turns, shaky, towards the now-open door.
He has to get back to the Ruins.
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Posted: Fri Aug 16, 2013 6:37 pm
Tea Log:
Kaje | Helpless
Annabell | Proud
Reap | Malice
~
Iron thought a tea party sounded nice, all considering. He picked the pink tag, then took a cookie, and sat down to enjoy a cup of tea.
Yellow seemed pretty good. That was his home color, after all.
~
It was early morning now, an orange glow cast over the city outside.
He ran a hand over the blackjack tables, the freshly-laid felt. He looked at the chandeliers, which were blue glass and bought wholesale, but shined as bright as the Wee b*****d. Painted gold fixtures and filigree bordered the walls.
Later in the day, the dealers would be here. Their pressed vests and ties were hung up in the large, open closet in the back room.
There were other rooms, business-like, insulated for privacy. Not insulated enough to cover a gunshot. You'd have to use a silencer.
They weren't the highest-tech, even if that's what B0nez had pushed for, but they had cameras installed in key locations. Their insignia in blazing blue on the sign. They were starting out. It had been his idea, exactly the kind of thing a City like this needed.
When his hands lingered, it was with the touch of a lover.
He could almost see them. Pouring around, milling between tables and slot machines like fish that had wandered into a very deep pond.
His figure, sharply dressed, cut across the floor like a slow knife. He was taking it all in. This is where it started, first here, then out there, until everybody that had a wallet was in his pocket. Policemen, politicians, bankers, businessmen, fathers, mothers, kids. They all put their coins into the machine, while he collected his fair cut.
For now, the floor was empty.
But soon, they'd all call him Boss.
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Posted: Fri Aug 16, 2013 7:01 pm
Tea Guest Log Colour of Tea Tasted: Pale Pink Description: Excited, eager, curious, affectionate Your commentary on its flavour: This tea was different from the tea she had enjoyed earlier. There was love but..a different kind of love. Someone with a dream, hopes for the future. They must have worked very hard to get where they were. Ideih could only wish them the best in their endeavors, admittedly very curious about some of their thoughts and motives.
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Posted: Fri Aug 16, 2013 7:13 pm
Tea Guest Log Colour of Tea Tasted: Pale Pink Description: Hopeful (yes I used the word in the tea blend sob), excitement Your commentary on its flavour: Acerola could taste person's excitement at being one step closer to achieving his dream. There was a lot of hope placed into the tea, and it raised Acerola's happiness. She wanted to wish for the success of this person.
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Posted: Fri Aug 16, 2013 10:49 pm
Tea Guest Log Colour of Tea Tasted: Pink Description: Wistful, excited, tart, dangerous Your commentary on its flavour: She enjoyed the feeling of the felt as the memory played and she could feel a sense of pride as he looked around the room. He was so tender as he inspected the tables she felt a little embarrassed, like she had walked in on two lovers having an intimate moment. Though as he made his way around the room she began to feel more and more unsettled as if the one who brewed this tea were more akin to a cobra in a nice suit than a kind business owner. Still, there was a thrill in the tea that she enjoyed, and would like to try again later.
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Posted: Fri Aug 16, 2013 11:11 pm
Tea Guest Log Colour of Tea Tasted: Pale Pink Description: Wistful, Conniving, Prideful Your commentary on its flavour: Why did this one bring back familiar memories too? These last two teas, there was something. Viola'i didn't get it. It had a sharp taste though, odd in many ways. A different set of values that what she had felt of everyone else, the desire of power and the hope for his plans to go through. He was a king of his own domain and Viola'i wasn't sure how she felt about him.
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