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Post by thetriangle on Aug 11, 2009 13:45:14 GMT 9.5
Soon after the quivering vine had stopped its creeping on floor and wall and the tender blue blooms had opened in the dim crisscross light from the netted window, Savan began giggling, it was just a slight smile at first but it quickly grew through sniggers and chuckles and became a convulsive laugh of such power that he fell off the bed onto the hard stone floor.
“Passerbys?” said savan, still giggling, but getting up off the floor and leaning against the wall with an elbow, his head in his hand in a way that suggested youthful pranksterism. “Passerbys!? You really are too much, this world may not be here to entertain me, but I’m fairly sureI am here to be entertained by it, and you, good sir, are a scream. Where, where, where in regal Riiga wide did Evan find you? Passerbys! But seriously, a comic talent such as yours is wasted on these feeble conjuring tricks. I worked with a circus as an escape artist for a while; I could get a good word in for you if you like. Your stage craft could do with some work, though. Flowers are pretty, don’t get me wrong, but as magic they’re just not original, and they do kind of conflict with the intimidating theme you’ve got going, spoils the effect, if you get me. Your jargons nice though, I like ‘surprised blood’ especially; when in doubt, gibberish, that’s a motto for the ages, that is. But I wonder if your eyes are as keen as you exceptional hearing…” Savan moved his free hand behind his back where it could not be seen from the doorway and extended three fingers. “How many then? How many fingers am I holding up?” he said, smiling expectantly.
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Post by Treijim on Aug 11, 2009 15:40:58 GMT 9.5
"Evan did not find me." He paused and looked from side to side, and then behind him at Evan, who shrugged. Mohetk continued, "'Surprised blood' may be jargon to you, but the man which you recently murdered was surprised at the time of his death because his blood smells surprised. Just because you do not understand a thing, is not to say that the thing is beyond understanding." He looked across at the plant, again, unamused at Savan's reactions. "If this world is not meant to be entertaining and your purpose is to be entertained by it, I am afraid you will only feel disappointed."
The rattling began again for a moment and Savan's hand was forced into a closed fist. "Do not mock my ability or you may find yourself unable to do so. It appears it is as Evan said; you are damaged. The problem is in your mind. It is broken. I can fix it for you, if you agree to let me. If you decline, I think you will be in this room for a very, very long time."
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Post by thetriangle on Aug 11, 2009 16:21:27 GMT 9.5
Savans smile only broadened as his fist closed without a struggle, “cute trick, I must say, but you missed a couple,” he said, and he tapped the outstretched fingers of the hand he was leaning his head against on his skull.
“Disappointed?” he continued, “Hmmm… no. no, I think I’m actually quite ok with the world, it has seemed to work for me so far. Humor is where you find it, I think. Well then, let’s get this show on the road. Fire away, master Mohawk, fire away. Cure me.”
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Post by Treijim on Aug 11, 2009 20:49:43 GMT 9.5
The rattling began. Savan doubled over in what appeared to be some sort of seizure. Mehotk did not visibly move as the rattling grew loud, so loud that it echoed off the stone walls almost unbearably; Evan had to back off and place his hands over his ears. After perhaps a minute, it died down to silence. Evan moved to the door and looked past Mehotk.
"What did you do? Is he all right?" Evan asked.
"His mind was broken, very damaged. I have barely seen a worse one, but I mended it. He needs rest. Lay him down."
"Savan?" Evan entered and approached the boy and he bobbed down a little to try to look at his face. "Savan?"
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Post by thetriangle on Aug 11, 2009 22:00:40 GMT 9.5
The boy was curled into a ball, in a silence and stillness that was absolute, so stone like he seemed almost a piece of furniture native to the cell. As Evan leaned in close, the voice of a strangled whisper, a voice like glass scratching on metal, spoke. “You asked his permission,” said the voice, and the eyes flicked up from their short focus and bored into Evan with an intensity of pain that froze the soul. “WHAT ABOUT MINE?!” the boy screamed, his hand darting out to grip Evan vice like by the throat. “What about mine!? You have no idea! The things he did, the things he saw, the fights and torture, the screaming and the arrogance of it that he did it in my name! Mine! That word which was for me, and can be no other - my name! My word!” The grip slackened, the boys arm fell limply and he rolled over onto his side. The intensity of his eyes faded as he receded into the realm of memories, of a time long past when once he had been happy.
“My word…” he mumbled, “when I was young, very young, I would listen to my mother, she knew poetry, and I would dwell in bliss, in ecstasy over those words, the procession of them and the sounds, it was a joy like sunlight sighing on the windswept dancing of waves shimmering over the spring sweet lake, set free in the hush and shudder of every word as it flowed and skipped me by: and he used my name. Mine.”
The boy’s eyes slowly rose to meet Evans, and tears were pouring down his face, “And I listened to step after step of meter and rhyme as time pooled and eddied around us and natural law stopped to listen to the glory of every passage passing. And he used my name.”
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Post by Treijim on Aug 12, 2009 21:04:15 GMT 9.5
When Evan was held by the throat, Mehotk turned his body to face them fully but he didn't move. Evan grabbed Savan's wrists and pulled at them, but not so much that he tugged them from his throat. He stared into the boy's eyes, lost and confused, entirely unsure as to what Savan was saying. The words were exploding past his ears but he could hardly stop them to listen to what they were. When the grip was released and Savan lay down, Evan looked at Mehotk as if to question what had been done to him, but Evan's attention was soon redirected as Savan began to speak again. He listened and watched but he said nothing. His face shared Savan's sadness -- at least, as much as he was capable while being a little unsure as to what was being told.
Evan glanced at Mehotk again once Savan went silent but his gaze faltered and landed on the floor. He traced stains on the smooth stone to the base of the bed and tried to sort out the words in his head. In the few moments he had, he arranged some words and took a great risk in speaking them aloud:
"Can he use your name now?"
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Post by thetriangle on Aug 13, 2009 17:06:55 GMT 9.5
The boy closed his eyes, and mouthed in silence, I have no name, before speaking out loud, slowly, without energy, as if he had just woken from a deep sleep, “Everything was so clear to him, it was so clear; everything made perfect sense, as in a dream where it all happens and it all seems right and you don’t know why but it does. But it fades. It fades as of a dream. It fades.”
He opened his eyes again, and looked at Evan. “I know your name,” he said. “Well then. Now what? Now that you’ve cured me. Now what?”
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Post by Treijim on Aug 19, 2009 20:08:32 GMT 9.5
Evan was at a loss. He looked to Mehotk for some help, but the man didn't do anything except stand in the doorway. After some silent moments, he sat on the ground. The final question left Evan somewhat perplexed. It was as though his life was only meaningful when his mind was damaged, and that, of course, wasn't healthy.
"What do you want? Choose a new name for yourself. Choose a life. Choose a goal." Evan looked up and tried to meet the boy's eyes. "You get to choose now. It's up to you. It's not up to him anymore."
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