Memories, Coats and Headaches

Gods, but he was tired. No amount of tea or
coffee could replace the sleep he wouldn't get, despite it being perhaps the
darkest hour of an evening overcast with storm clouds. Regardless of the
darkness, London was awake, and so was he, busying himself with anything, anything
at all to keep him from remembering. The sketches for his updated arms had been
checked and re-checked, everything in his room was cleaned and organized for
the first time since his arrival, there was an abundance of food in the kitchen
pantries for the other lodgers now, and his hands would have ended up
permanently stained with ink, charcoal, and oil if he wasn't already planning
on replacing them.
"Thank you, darling Ričardas. Lavender is
my favorite flower. What vase should I use, do you think?"
"Smile, Ričardas. This is important to
your mother, and to me."
"I'll be all right, Ričardas, just take my
coat and go!"
"Richardas?~ Look at me, mano numylėtinis.
Look at me!"
"Ričardas, I believe I have angered the
wrong peop- my God, what happened to you? What have you done?"
"Nononono, Ričardas, please, don't do
this, you're better than th-"
"Look at this, Ričardas. It is your art.
Enjoy it, Ričardas."
For four days out of the year, he pushed
himself beyond his usual limits in the memory of things he would rather forget,
but couldn't. For four and a half days, he had a pounding headache and a heavy
heart. Four and a half days of vigilance for people who the meaning would never
reach. Four and a half days of apologies that were never said.
The final hours were approaching, and he was
tired. Gods, but he was tired. Having taken the opportunity to more thoroughly
map out the winding corridors, he found himself by a window seat staring out
into London itself, glowing and smoky in the distance. As he stared into the
shifting landscape, he was struck with the sensation of feeling incredibly
small. Sighing, he closed his eyes and climbed onto the seat, intending to rest
for only a few moments. He clenched a fist against the throbbing pain behind
his eyes.
Only a few more hours. Guilt and sorrow clawed
at his throat and demanded to be known, fear carved out a place in his heart
and a roar of anger perched under his throat. He had no right to count down the
hours. He'd pay with his life if he weren't so afraid, weren't so hopeful.
He would do well to remember. He knew this,
knew the value in accepting and letting go of past hurts. The trouble was
accepting that knowledge. It didn't feel.. right. Someone had to remember, and
who better than the person who caused it all in the first place? Again he was
struck with the feeling of being small and vulnerable, as if malicious eyes
were passing judgement on him. Gritting his teeth against tears threatening to
spill, he halfway drew his knees to his chest.
He would stay here a few moments. He would
remember. Every year he did, in the early hours of the morning. He remembered
and he regretted and he regretted remembering.
Madame
La Déchante: ( Suddenly, as if the world itself
had sensed his pain, notes tinkle gently through the hall like the raindrops
threatening to fall from the gloomy clouds, warming the cold white marble with
the gentle intricate melody of an otherwise neglected piano.)
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Tairais:  He
jumped as the music began to play, then relaxed and even smiled a bit. This was
a song he recognized, one his mother had taught him and one she would play when
she couldn't sleep. A bittersweet memory, that, but it was much preferred to
the bitter ones. He huffed an amused breath when he realized the parallels
between his night playing on the rooftops and the current moment. Closing his
eyes, he laid back against the wall behind him, getting lost in the music and
the memories it provided, trusting in it to ground him should he begin to
wander too far.
He exhaled softly. "Thank you." Who he was thanking, he wasn't
entirely sure. It was hardly like they could hear him, but it felt important to
thank them regardless.
Madame
La Déchante:  ( As if sensing the
gratitude, the hands fervently work at the time worn keys, weaving more and
more notes into the piece. The song intensifies, carrying further and further
across the Society as the volume increases. )
Tairais:  Richard
found himself pulled wholeheartedly into the memory of nights spent walking on
moonlit pathways through the nearby forest, his mother humming the melody of
the piece now played while he and his brother did their best to him the lower
register, with varying degrees of success. He laughed the sound of breaking
crystal, remembering his father carrying him on his shoulders to look for owls
and his mother reminding them to be quiet, lest they startle the poor birds
away.
He smothered the next bit of laughter in a metal arm, tears trickling out of
the only eye that could still cry. Bittersweet, indeed.
Madame
La Déchante:  ( The notes soften, sweeten-
almost as if to caress Richard and remind him that they still are here for him,
even though his family is not. A gentle mist settles outside his window, giving
the streetlamps an otherworldly warmth.
a lullaby )
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Mz.Hyde: Beautiful isn't it? 
*Mz. Hyde had appeared near him in the corridor, watching the rain fall outside.*
I love it when it's like this. The colors blend together in the rain. It's
almost like a watercolor painting.
Tairais:  Richard
tensed slightly, as often happened when he was startled, then forced himself to
relax. He glanced at Mz Hyde and nodded before returning his gaze to the scene
outside. "Indeed. I a-am m-most fond of p-painting on n-nights like
t-these. T-the orange g-glow of the s-street lamps g-gives e-everything a...
s-surreal feeling t-to it. D-dreamlike, even."
Mz.Hyde: *She nods her head.*
Nights like these are my favorite.
Tairais:  He
hummed his agreement. "T-they are g-good for a g-great n-number of
t-things, and c-calming on the m-mind."
Mz.Hyde: A night like this by a warm fire and the one you
love.... yeahhhh....those are the best.
Tairais:  Richard
chuckled in a somewhat bittersweet manner. "T-the fire, I c-can do.
Nonetheless, y-you are r-right in y-your sentiment."
Mz.Hyde: Do you love anyone?
Tairais:  Richard
paused, slightly taken aback by the rather personal question. "I-I... do.
I l-love the f-few friends I h-have, b-but l-love in the.. r-romantic s-sense
d-does not come easily to me. T-there is t-the potential, c-certainly, t t-to
love someone, h-however.."
His gaze turned distant as several memories clambered for his attention, none
of which were pleasant. "T-to love someone is t-to give them t-the power
t-to k-kill you. T-to allow y-your whole s-self to be seen. I-it is a
t-terrifying thought." He shrugged, tension in his shoulders and a faint
undercurrent of grief and fear in his eyes.
Mz.Hyde: I understand...but is it better to have loved and
lost then to have never loved at all, as the saying goes?
Tairais:  He
shrugged. "D-debatable. I c-could h-have d-done with never l-loving t-the
ones w-who l-left m-me l-like.. like this." His voice trailed off and grew
quiet, fear tearing at his throat again as his mind so helpfully replayed some
of the worst moments of his life. He hid his face behind his eyes, and as he
did so, began muttering, unknowingly slipping into his native tongue as he
thought.
"Galbūt tai būtų buvę lengviau, jei aš jo nekentė. Nemanau, nekenčiu jų
dabar žinoma. Aš jus atleido. Mes grojame tai, ką kortos buvo nagrinėjami. Bet
ar tai svarbu? Ar tai svarbu ką mes darome, jei kas nors turėjo tūzą savo
rankovė?" Ar tai svarbu jums, Jack? Elise? Benediktas? Tėvas?"
Richard realized what he had done after a few moments and chuckled.
"M-my apologies, I was.. t-thinking aloud. I s-suppose every situation is
d-different."
Mz.Hyde: Yeah...sorry if I brought up anything unpleasant.
Tairais:  He
shook his head reassuringly. "Y-you are q-quite all right, I a-am
simply... bitter, may b-be t-the word for it." He slumped back against the
wall, closing his eyes once more as he listened to the faint sounds of London
at night.
Mz.Hyde: I think it's bittersweet that's the word you're
looking for.
Tairais:  He
nodded. "It s-seems appropriate, y-yes..." His voice trailer off,
clearly at loss for words.
Mz.Hyde: Was she beautiful?
Tairais:  His
eyes snapped open, caught off guard. "E-er, w-who, e-exactly?"
Mz.Hyde: Elise.
Tairais:  He
chuckled bitterly. "B-beautifully c-cruel, p-perhaps." He was more
fond of Jack, at any rate.
Not that he'd mention that. He himself still wasn't sure where his feelings had
lain on that subject.
Mz.Hyde: And Jack?
Tairais:  He
snorted. "J-jack was Jack. E-everyone t-though he w-was attractive."
If he was purposefully vague, then so be it.
Mz.Hyde: Attractive? How so?
Tairais:  Richard's
cheeks burned slightly, and he coughed into his arm to try and cover it,
smoothing his features into a contemplative sort of expression. He really had
fallen out of practice with his masks- a note for later.
"A-ah, hm. C-chiseled jaw, r-raven-black h-hair, a-artistically
e-expressive eyes, and a g-grin that could c-charm just about anyone. E-easy t-to
like, e-easy to be... wooed b-by, harder to k-know and a-all the m-more
interesting for it." He shrugged casually, doing his best to hide the
single spark of tension in his one expressive eye. "I w-was glad t-to know
him a-as well as I did. He was a g-good friend."
Good friend, and still he had wanted more. The man himself flirted with
everything under the sun, but it had seemed.. fitting, to be his friend more
than anything else at the time. Not that there was ever the chance for
something else. Elise saw to that.
Mz.Hyde: But he liked someone else huh?
Tairais:  Richard
sighed and shrugged. Surely there was no harm in admitting this, yes? "I
b-believe it is m-more a case of I w-was not sure where m-my feelings lay,
n-nor entirely c-certain if w-what I was f-feeling w-was real, c-combined
w-with t-the g-general f-frowned u-upon nature of t-those things w-where we
were at the t-time.. Et c-cetera. I h-had my c-chance with h-him, and it w-was
f-four years in t-the making b-before I felt anything o-other t-than a c-close
friendship. The c-concept of 'l-love' is a f-funny thing to me. I seldom
r-realize I am w-what most consider 'in l-love' until the other p-party is
d-dying in m-my.. a-arms.."
He was going to get lost in more memories if he didn't stop. He didn't
particularly want to stop either. If he didn't, he could pretend everything was
still relatively fine with the ones he left behind.
Mz.Hyde: What happened?
Tairais:  Richard stiffened, and his
eyes glazed over as he was found himself in several places not the present. His
hands twitched violently, and he clutched at the hem of Jack's coat in an
attempt to ground himself. While he felt the fabric gripped in his hands, he
had no other sensory input from the world around him. His memory was 'kind'
enough to provide the details.
He wrapped Jack's coat tighter around him, ducking into an alleyway while
Elise laughed against the sickening thuds of metal and wood on flesh. He would
not shed tears for whoever had fallen to save the rest of them. He didn't have
the energy, time, or safety to spare. They were closing in on him and he had to
keep moving. He had to. What would all their sacrifices be for if he failed?
With a sickening lurch, he found himself in another memory.
He was screaming. He couldn't hear himself, but he was screaming. Everything
burned and his vision swam. Something was wrong and he couldn't tell what.
There were many things wrong, but he couldn't remember why.
He shuddered. What had come before that? What had happened, indeed?
All was quiet on New Year's Day. The world around them was white with snow,
and the festivities were already underway. The sound of a merry fiddle came
from hands less experienced than his own, but he could hardly find it in
himself to complain through the warmth of drink. He leaned against Jack and
laughed at some joke the other man said for what was likely the thirtieth time
that night, just to hear his voice in return.
He was only missing the one hand. They were both much younger, and much less
scarred. They were both alive.
The door slammed open, almost missed against the hubbub of the tavern until
someone produced a pistol and fired it into the air. Several people screamed
and fell silent. He was still giggling- why was he still giggling? Jack turned
pale and tried to shove him out the door but Richard noticed a split second too
late, and the curtain fell. Elise's smile was as breathtaking as ever, except
this time it was from fear. They both bolted out the back door.
They were foolish to think she had stopped looking for them. In this instance,
Hell truly had no fury like a woman scorned.
He was shuddering now. Images flashed by quicker, slipping through his
fingers as he stilled completely, not daring to draw breath.
Jack, shouting something in a language he still barely knew. In a moment of
deja vu, he gave Richard his jacket. Richard hid it in an alley before they ran
their separate ways.
A shot, a thud, and a view from the roof of a building some distance away. The
scream perpetually perched beneath his chin bubbled out then, the sound of a
wounded animal.
Running down the alleyways of what was almost home, panting heavily and
slipping on ice just as the report of a gunshot reached his ears- and his
torso. And leg. And back.
A smiling face against a backdrop of navy blue and maroon.
Knowing that was the end of a chapter in your life, one way or another.
Pain. White-hot pain, and so many smiling knives and their hatefully grinning
teeth digging into him.
Fading and waking up on the side of the road, somehow alive. Falling when he
tried to stand. A figure, approaching him with a familiar coat. A tearful
farewell in so many different languages that would never be understood, and a
gesture universal to all. He still wasn't sure if he had dreamed that, but the
evidence strongly suggested he had.
Alone. The terrible feeling of being alone.
The entire internal exchange took less than a minute, in which Richard
found himself smiling and shaking his head, not trusting himself to speak.
He couldn't.
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Catt
Hatter: *Catt wandered aimlessly
through the winding corridors, listening to the rain and thinking. She had been
certain what she had done was the right decision, despite all the painful
consequences changing things had caused. Why then, did she feel so awful? So guilty?
All she had wanted was to save her friend's life, had that been wrong? Was it
not her choice to make?
While passing a window, she thought to take a glance out at the rain-soaked
streets. However, she hadn't expected to see someone else already there with
the same notion. Richard. Her eyes wandered listlessly over his scarred face,
and metallic hands. A tiny, sparkling idea fought it's way to the surface of
her lingering melancholy without invitation.
She opened her mouth to give the hopeful spark a voice, but changed her mind
before the idea could even see light. Despite her best intentions, all her
attempts to help kept ending in messy and painful ways. Her shoulders and head
drooped as she slipped back beneath the waves of morose thoughts that had held
her captive ever since that night. She turned to continue her wanderings in the
quiet halls.*
Tairais:  Another
flicker of movement caught his eye, and this time Richard wasn't entirely
certain that it wasn't a dream. The stag's breath billowed on his shoulders
like a sickly caress. Rain from a forest long forgotten was the play of a
ghostly finger down his spine.
He had shuddered heavily, then. Firelight danced in his eye, the cloying taste
of blood and fear curled acrid and copper-like in his nose. He had tasted both
that and the smoke writhing around him as he stared in horror, seeing something
that wasn't real and at the same time was entirely real: a representation of
himself.
He had been- was real, yes?
The stag, clad in feathers and crowned with antlers of crimson-stained bone,
then bellowed like the roar of a passing steam train, and still, he had not
been afraid: He had looked upon it in awe as pandemonium vibrated in his chest.
The stag gave him a final gaze, eyes flashing black and alien in the light,
then bounded into the flames. There had been a final terrible bugle, then utter
silence, save for the hunger of the flames around him.
He had looked down at his hands- his blood-soaked, trembling hands- and found
himself unafraid. He didn't feel sickened at the tragedy he had staged, oh no.
There had never been room for that in an artist to rival Shakespeare himself.
They had both called themselves that once, even if Shakespeare worked with words
instead of their particular media.
That was (is?) his design, and it had horrified him that he wasn't horrified.
He had fallen to his knees as carrion-birds swarmed him from all sides, cawing
raucously. They had torn great, gasping wounds in him, and it had felt like he
was trying to claw out of his own skin (he had though, hadn't he?). Smoke had
curled around him as he ran, laughing with the bellow of the stag perched under
his chin and, and-
And.
He gasped and spluttered past the burning in his lungs: he hadn't been
breathing. He furiously took that memory and locked it in a hidden safe,
somewhere in the twisting halls of his mind. It was, by no means, hidden
entirely: Tendrils of black smoke clung to his hands even as he confirmed that
yes, they were still metal, and he was no longer completely gone. Was the smoke
rooted in reality? It wouldn't have been the first time, and yet..
He closed his eyes and rested a cheek against the cool glass.
Just a few more hours.
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Hyde
without a Jekyll: *As the sky darkened the
lights grew ever brighter, dancing it the rain, creating a swirl of memories
that shone through the glass. A small girl with book clutched in hand, sneaks
her way through the halls, ashamed to look at anyone. She slows to a stop, when
passing by Richard. She looks in at him, tears threatening to fall like the
rain out side. *
Tairais:  Richard
almost didn't hear the soft footsteps over the patter of rain against glass. He
stiffened slightly and glanced up, only to be surprised by someone who looked
as sorrowful as he felt on the worst of nights (This particular vigil was more
softly painful acceptance than anything).
"A-are y-you quite all r-right, amico?"
Hyde
without a Jekyll:  *She
sighed and leaned against the door frame, Never looking at Richard only staring
at the swirling colors that painted the window.* ...Are any of us?
Tairais:  He
smiled wryly. "T-true enough." He turned his gaze back to the window,
eyes drifting ever so slowly to being closed. He noticed right before his eyes
closed, and shook his head to stay awake. "W-well, f-for the most
p-part."
Hyde
without a Jekyll:  *A
small smile tugged at her lips and the girl wiped her eyes and sniffed.*
...That look in your eyes...are you remembering or forgetting?
Tairais:  He
shrugged and grinned wryly. "W-why not b-both? T-they come hand in h-hand,
do they n-not?"
Hyde
without a Jekyll:  *She
sighed.* ...They do but not when dealing with the same memory.
Tairais:  "P-perhaps
I am remembering n-now, in order t-to f-forget l-later. It is p-possible,
yes?" His smile softened at this; he didn't mean to tease the girl.
Hyde
without a Jekyll:  *She
looked back out the window.* That is a possibility, though...why one would want
to I'm not entirely sure. Remembering is a chore and forgetting is a luxury
that many cannot afford. If there is something that you want to both forget and
remember then I suggest you keep that thought close to your chest but just out
reach from your hands.
Tairais:  "It
is d-difficult to d-do that w-when everything is as.. i-intertwined as it is.
F-for me, at least. I h-have to p-put my t-thoughts under l-lock and k-key, and
then w-wonder w-what I a-am forgetting."
Gods, he was talking an awful lot? And yet, he could hardly summon the energy
to be nervous or control his blabbering tongue. If he was somehow harmed by
this exchange of ideas and information, he would find fault with it later.
That was really only partly true, he just didn't want to think otherwise at the
moment.
Hyde
without a Jekyll:  *A
small smile flickered across her lips for a moment.* Our minds plague us but
yet they carry us forward through this maze of life. Besides that may be for
the best as thoughts and memories contain knowledge. They say a little
knowledge is a dangerous thing but how much knowledge does a person need before
they are safe? *She shakes her head and snorts at the question.* ...They'll
never be safe again. Ignorance is truly bliss.
Tairais:  Richard
laughed, a small, broken thing entirely too close to hysterics. He buried his
face in his hands, grinning and sighing all at once. "C-certamente, y-yes.
T-to n-not know what I know, to n-not remember w-what I do.. I w-would not be
who I a-am without it, b-but I d-do miss being i-ignorant at t-times."
Hyde
without a Jekyll:  ...I
think we all do. That child-like state of feeling free without knowing the
prisons we live in, we all crave it at some point. *She slid down the wall and
sat legs stretched out on the floor* ...Those memories, those stories that
haunt us, we desire to be rid of them but we know that without them we are
nothing. Only in our dreams can we not see those walls of confinement, but even
a dream will turn to a nightmare as reality sets in reminding us of who, what
we are. We can hide from the world easily, but hiding from ourselves is near
impossible.
Tairais:  The
laughter subsides to a chuckle as his erratic heartbeat slows by increments.
"N-nightmares, d-dreams, r-reality. They are t-the same f-for me. T-they
b-bleed like t-they are watercolors and I am a b-battered canvas in an empty
r-room, facing a m-mirror. I k-know who I am." His voice dropped to a
whisper, as if he were confessing some terrible truth.
In fairness, it almost was. "I k-know and s-see who I am, and it m-makes
little d-difference b-because I am here w-while they are not. T-they still
search f-for me, t-too f-finish the w-work w-." He cuts himself off at
this point, closing his jaws with an audible 'clack.' Too much, he said too
much. He was going to pay for it. He stiffened, drawing his gangly limbs to his
chest like a bird might.
Hyde
without a Jekyll:  *She
doesn't look at him for she knows his face quite well as having worn it
herself. She lets the silence grow stretching out in the night.* ...At least
you can look at yourself. *She stood up and left.*
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Decipherer: Further down in the hallway were soft, gentle
footsteps that padded across the marble floor with an odd grace made a slow but
eventual stop upon the doorway to the room where Richard sat staring upon
London now. The day had been filled with questions and only half of the answers
were provided, and Artemis was asleep.
Elias froze in the frame of the door, but relaxed when he recognized the man.
His eyes seemed to soften as he looked upon him, his arms crossing. Richard was
so much more than a mystery, and he longed to know why he always seemed so...
pained. But these thoughts did not last, and nor did he; as soon as he had
found himself staring, pulling apart what he knew of Richard like one would
dissect an animal, he felt shame rise within his chest, and he abandoned the
doorway as soon as he had arrived.
Tairais:  Lost
in thought as he was, Richard noticed Elias' presence but wasn't aware of it
until he decided to leave. Distantly, the thought made the corner of his lip
twitch in a half-smile.
He hoped the two brothers were getting along. That thought turned into memories
of his own, of a brother constantly barging into his study to drag him on some
sort of adventure. In later years, such surprises had lost their charm with the
increase in pressure on both their shoulders, the need for personal space never
fully soothed. He supposed the novelty of being left alone would never quite
lose its bittersweet charm.
He hadnt realized he was staring at the doorway until he looked back at the
scenery of London.
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DeathMurder_JH: The sound of the rain beating on the window slowly,
showing the big picture that London was. Mattias Mortensen walked through the
house, when he reached the hallway and saw where Richard was. He did not know
him intimately, sincerely Mattias did not know anyone as it was not sociable.
She walked up to him and said sitting on the floor next to him: '- Are you
okay?'
Tairais:  Richard
jumped in surprise: he had almost dozed off. He nodded somewhat tersely as an
instinctive reaction, not recognizing the person on the floor next to him.
"F-fine! Er, I am w-well, merely t-tired. E-er, do I k-know y-you?"
DeathMurder_JH:  '-
Oh, Hello Forgive me if I frightened you... It was not my intention. I'm
Mattias Mortensen. You must be Richard. Do not you remember me?' - Asked
Mattias looking away, since I could not speak looking directly at people.
Tairais:  He
frowned. "It is q-quite, though I-I... do n-not. R-remember you, t-that
is. My apologies, m-my memory.Is as p-patchwork as the rest of me." He
shrugged, waving a hand in a sort of sweeping motion towards his scarred face
and metal limbs. He couldn't summon the energy to be bothered by his vulnerability.
DeathMurder_JH:  '-I
imagine that you do not remember... You sure you're okay? It seems destroyed.'
- Says Mattias looking sadly down.
Tairais: "I.. er. I am well, y-yes." Richard was
confused and frankly, a little unsettled. He did his best to hide it.
"W-what is d-destroyed, e-exactly?"
DeathMurder_JH:  '-Her
appearance'. - Responds distant Mathias. '- What happened?'
Tairais:  He
smiled bitterly, more of a baring of teeth than anything, truth be told.
"T-too m-many t-things."
DeathMurder_JH:  '-Oh,
I understand. I know how you feel. I love a woman who does not exist and I am
in severe debt. I think we're both with many thoughts and a lot to think
about.' - He said, looking at Richard.
Tairais:  He
shrugged. "T-thoughts a-are p-pack hunters. Y-you l-let o-one catch you,
t-they all t-tear into y-you."
Richard found himself staring at his hands as he spoke. Even before they were
beings of metal and wires, they had been covered in the scars of bitter words.
"T-they always d-do. I t-try to ignore t-them."
DeathMurder_JH:  '-You're
right. Feelings corrupts the soul. - Mattias looked out the window and
continued: '- It's like they say... love is the lack of hate. For me, the
thoughts are like love, only there to fill the void of our minds.'
Tairais:  Richard
tilted his head in a contemplative manner. "P-perhaps n-not corrupt.
T-they hurt, but what w-would humanity b-be without t-them?" He chuckled
inwardly. This was not a conversation he had expected to have.
DeathMurder_JH:  Mattias
heard the words spoken by him and looked at him puzzled. Really feelings are
terrible, but what would be humanity without them? Nothing. Mattias Mortensen
was no reaction. I did not know what to say to him, was speechless. 'Damn it!'
Mattias thought. Maybe I should not have spoken to Richard Thought Mattias
again. This also was not the conversation he wanted, and he knew that Richard
would never say anything to him. '-But... It's just... you... maybe...' - he
stopped completely.
Tairais:  Richard
tense slightly. Had Mattias seen something? Forts were forts, but the mortar
between bricks was always crumbling. Faking levity, he tilted his head in
confusion. "M-maybe w-what?"
DeathMurder_JH:  '-M-maybe...
I... I do not know, I feel that there is something wrong... Something's going
to happen... I-I do not know... I just think.'
Tairais:  He
chuckled. "S-something is a-always about to h-happen." He felt a
quiet sense of purpose and the clarity of determination steel his features, an
icy glint catching in the depths of his eyes. In the flickering, dying light of
day, he fancied he almost looked otherworldly; It was rare he let that
particular expression out of his carefully cultivated garden of masks.
"It is up to us to break or bend in the wind, to change in the wind or be
dispersed like so many ashes."
There was a flicker of antlers at the corners of his vision, and he stilled.
Not today, never in the daylight. He had to shrug it off.
Once again, the mask of the kindly doctor went on, the gleam in his eyes
softening towards the warmth of the summer. "I h-have f-faith you will
s-survive w-whatever the world b-brings. Lesser m-men have s-stood and risen
from g-great tragedies."
DeathMurder_JH:  'Maybe...'
- said Mattias Mortensen, getting up and walking from one side to the other,
walking in circles. '- Faith?' - Asks Mortensen staring at him. '- I do not
think there is faith. I do not think we can survive. The world is no bed of
roses. Do you think there is hope?! ' - Angry Mortensen question. '- Do you
think the world will help you? Repaying? Accept? No no go! '- He yelled losing
polite and formal posture. '- People are cruel and are killed by the thousands.
Why Devils should have faith and hope? Huh?! Because?' - He stopped and stared
at him with a cruel and hateful look.
Tairais:  Richard's
eyes glittered with amusement and something unnamed in the depths. He had
weathered worse storms than this man's temper. He made a show of spreading his
arms as he shrugged, the sleeves of his jacket falling to metal elbows.
"Y-you speak to o-one who has been a-anything but helped b-by an
unforgiving w-world, w-who has k-killed and s-saved and n-nearly been k-killed.
A bed of r-roses has t-thorns underneath, and s-still, y-you may crawl through
it to see the beauty above, or c-crawl ever s-slowly forward to f-freedom.
There is always an e-end. W-we should have f-faith and h-hope so w-we may find
t-the one we m-most prefer."
He exhaled softly through his nose. This conversation was made of circuitous
metaphors, and it made his head ring. It was not too dissimilar to one of his
brother's formal gatherings, though they were moreso practice in how insult
someone without them noticing until it was in hindsight than in.. whatever this
was.
DeathMurder_JH:  'Thorns?'
- He repeated. '- I did not do anything for this stupid world. And you did? You
did something to make me see hope? Something that do not be help yourself? I
think you nothing more than the remains of a battle with blood. A battle
without no hope.' - Mattias Mortensen clenched his fists as if to beat Richard,
but he held back for a moment, taking a deep breath and staring at him. He
blinked slowly and wait for an answer.
Tairais:  "I,
m-my friend, did nothing but meet y-you, and t-that is h-how I c-chose
to h-have hope f-for you. Y-you are under n-no o-obligation t-to see h-hope
yourself, but I w-would k-kindly ask y-you refrain f-from
s-speaking o-of my p-past as if y-you k-know it better t-than I."
'Really, now,' Richard mused, 'This is uncalled for. I was merely sitting here
and reminiscing.' He sat calmly and felt no fear. If things became violent, he
was fairly confident in his ability to fight or flee as the situation called
for. Truth be told though, he'd prefer to avoid any more blood on his hands.
There was more than enough.
DeathMurder_JH:  Mortensen
looks angry at Richard, think a little and said changing the tone of his voice:
'- Sorry. It is that... is that I forget that your past is also bad. And
sometimes... For once, I wanted to take my revenge. You know, make people see
what I see, feel what I felt. I must be getting obsessed...' - Mattias takes a
photo of pocket. It was an old photo with stains of blood and dust. He looks at
the photo showing the figure of a woman. Mellyssa. The woman he loved and who
died there years. A woman he had ever truly loved. He felt a complete idiot and
tore the picture, throwing the pieces into the coat pocket. He turned to
Richard and said, '- What do you think of going to the bar to drink? I need to
relax.'
Tairais:  Richard
blinked somewhat owlishly at Matthias' mercurial moods.  He shrugged somewhat apologetically, a
curious glint in his eyes. "M-my apologies, b-but I am n-not overly fond
of drink. I w-was thinking of s-staying here for a l-little longer, if y-you care
for to stay a-and watch the rain f-for a while."
Somewhere, distantly in his mind, Richard thought of the sole picture of both
his families together, burning a hole somewhere in the recesses of his trunk.
He could take a page out of Matthias' book, and in fact, it would probably
help, but there was a quiet voice holding him back. It sounded much too like
his brother, truth be told.
Ah well. Some memories were made to stay. He figured he probably had a House of
Memories by this point.
DeathMurder_JH:  Mattias
looked at him with a puzzled look and said, '- Enjoy the rain? But this is
boring.' - He murmured like a child. '- How about if I bring something? Or
anyone? Michael Lokken perhaps? '
Tairais:  Richard
chuckled. "I f-find it r-rather soothing, actually. Y-you may go do as
y-you please, b-but I will s-stay here."
He was really getting quite tired. Just a few more hours. Just until the sun
rose again. He'd sleep then.
DeathMurder_JH: '- No I will not. I will make company to you.'
Tairais:  He
nodded. "I h-hope you do n-not mind terribly if I d-do not s-speak much. I
h-have been... r-rather lost in t-thought as of l-late, and I cannot s-see that
h-happening any t-time soon."
DeathMurder_JH:   '-
No problem... Also will not talk much.' - He sat down and rested his head in
one hand, singing a symphony of Isaac Stern.
Tairais:  Richard
smiled softly. There were fewer things he enjoyed than someone to share silence
with, regardless of how wildly their moods might change. He leaned back against
the wall of the window-seat, closing his eyes. He fancied he could hear the tap
of his mothers fingers on the old grand piano if he listened hard enough. It
was peaceful.
DeathMurder_JH:  
Mattias was not quiet. He feels something wrong. Something bad. He looked calm
on the outside but was crazy inside. Still, he permanceu quietly waiting for
Richard to say something.
Tairais:  Richard
noticed Mattias' tension and resisted the urge to frown. Biting back a soft
sight, he began to hum the lullaby he heard his mother playing in his mind's
eye, singing along in his head. He didn't want to, or couldn't, really, speak.
DeathMurder_JH:  
Mattias was concerned and scared and decided to drugging himself, believing it
would be more feasible. He took a pocket bottle with pills for headache and
swallowed three. also took a tablet soothing and swallowed quickly. Wiggled her
fingers and said to Richard: '- What do you think of Polygraph?'
Tairais:  Richard
tilted his head in and frowned, barely a crease in the forehead, but still a frown.
"I-I.. do not b-believe I h-have had the occasion t-to use one. W-why d-do
you ask?"
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Miss Jekyll and Miss Hyde: There down the hallway was the sound of a rolling
court and a cheerful humming attached the the sound. Footsteps could barely be
heard as a girl with curly green hair appeared . She wasn't a lodger but a mere
guest with no where else to go, no place to call home. She was heading to the
kitchen to have some food packed to last a few days when she thinks she got
lost in till she sees Richard. Oblivious to to his obvious pain she stopped her
cart and calmly approached. "Excuse me sir, sorry to disturb you but can
you help me find the kitchen. I'm a guest and i best figured i'd be leaving. If
you wish me to leave i can it doesn't matter" Lizzy said. Her cart now
visible in the pale light seemed to have a old trunk that seemed to have cloth
sleeves sticking out, a mat for sleeping in front of it, some old shoes, a long
coat that seemed to filled with pocket watches on the inside, a old top hat
with a large fabric flower, a lantern with little oil, a box with two bottles
of oil, a very thin tattered quilt folded neatly and lastly a rolled up
painting in a case.
Tairais:  At
the sound of the approach, Richard lifted his head wearily, eyes dark
underneath from the lack of sleep. He blinked once before he visibly smoothed
his features, and offered up a soft smile, trying to ignore the way the gesture
pulled at scar tissue. His eyes quickly cataloged the items on the cart, and
while he was curious, he didn't show it, for the sake of being polite.
"N-not to worry, I w-was just thinking." He rose gracefully but winced
when his knees (technically, knee) popped. Taking a moment to stretch, he
gestured for her to follow him. "T-the kitchen i-is p-perhaps the only
r-room I can c-consistently f-find w-without getting l-lost." He chuckled
softly, and began to walk, expecting her to follow.
Miss
Jekyll and Miss Hyde:  "Great!
Thank you!" Lizzy chirped getting behind her cart and pushing it behind
him. The girl looked filthy her hair was a poofy curly mess, and her clothes
were old and tattered.
Tairais:  "B-but
of c-course." His limbs and head felt disconnected from the rest of him.
It was hardly a new sensation, but nonetheless walking was strange and took a
bit more effort than he was used to, even with the weight of a metallic leg.
Regardless, after a few minutes walking through twisting corridors, he found
the familiar doorway of the kitchen and stepped through. He might as well make
some tea while he was here.
Miss
Jekyll and Miss Hyde:  Lizzy
had grown used to her robotic leg her self the magic it was enchanted with was
fading. She could tell but she had a smile. "Um i see that both you and me
have the same problem" She said, since she wore long enough pants to cover
it, it wasn't really visible to most.
Tairais:  Richard
blinked in surprise, then smiled and chuckled, showing his replacement arms as
well. "It w-would appear t-that it i-is a m-more common 'p-problem' here
t-than w-where I.. received t-them. The t-thought is.. c-comforting, I t-think
t-the word is." He set the kettle to boil and leaned against the counter,
grateful for the support.
Miss
Jekyll and Miss Hyde:  Lizzy
rolled up her pant leg to show the lower half of her leg was a robotic one.
"I'm half tempted just to get this pant leg off so i can do maintenance
better." Lizzy said sighing and smiling she then grabbed a small loaf of
bread, slice of cheese, dried fruit, and a few carrots. "I'm not from
London, it's not common where i'm from. I was originally born in Romania but i
was dumped here by my family."
Tairais:  Richard
nodded. "By all m-means, go ahead. I am perhaps t-the l-last person w-who
would j-judge you f-for it." He paused to pour now-boiling water into a
teacup and set the leaves to steep, each step now a familiar part of a soothing
ritual, accompanied by the slightest sense of déja vú. "I a-am from
Lithuania and Italy myself, n-neither of which w-were very f-fond of
t-them." He didn't care to elaborate beyond that.
Miss
Jekyll and Miss Hyde:  "Yeah
i know the feeling" Lizzy said tearing it off and putting the food in a
satchel in her cart.
Tairais:  He
smirked slightly. "I s-still b-believe their r-response w-was... shall
w-we say, b-baseless." He picked up the teacup and blew away the steam,
sipping gingerly. He scrunched his nose in irritation when the brew proved to
be just a touch too hot still, and waited patiently.
Miss
Jekyll and Miss Hyde:  "My
response from others was disappointment. Something else to worry about for me
for my parents" Lizzy said.
Tairais:  Richard
hummed agreeably, still nursing the burning feeling of his tongue. "I
never understood. T-they are l-limbs r-regardless, w-what does it matter w-what
t-they are m-made of?"
Miss
Jekyll and Miss Hyde:  "Neither
did i, but i understood why cause i was different from them" Lizzy said.
Tairais:  Richard
nodded, hearing the echos of the past in the girl's voice. Something similar to
a conversation with his father, some years ago. Words were not coming as easily
as his head pounded rather incessantly. He sighed, pinching the bridge of his
nose wearily.
Miss
Jekyll and Miss Hyde:  "Anywho!
Enough about the past." Lizzy said.
Tairais:  He
chuckled. "Agreed. W-where are y-you p-planning on wandering w-when you
leave?"
Miss
Jekyll and Miss Hyde:  "Wandering?"
Lizzy asked.
Tairais:  "T-travelling,
s-staying, v-visiting. Many h-have words f-for the places they go. I
w-wander." He shrugged, as if that were simply the fact of the world and
no strange thing.
Miss
Jekyll and Miss Hyde:  "I'll
be surviving" Lizzy said.
Tairais:  He
nodded. "Always a w-worthy p-pursuit. I-if you care f-for an i-interesting
place to s-survive, France is easy e-enough to h-hide in, I've f-found."
Miss
Jekyll and Miss Hyde:  "I
have no way to get to france" Lizzy said. "I was dumped here with
nothing but my clothes"
Tairais:  "I-if
y-you would like, I could p-provide the c-coin for t-travel t-to mainland
Europe. A-anything beyond that, I h-have w-walked to b-before. I b-believe
y-you will be f-fine from there."
Miss
Jekyll and Miss Hyde:  "I'm
good in england" Lizzy said. "thank you for the offer"
Tairais:  He
nodded behind another gulp of tea, letting the warmth chase the chill from his
bones.
Miss
Jekyll and Miss Hyde:  Lizzy
smiled at him grinning.
Tairais:  He offered
a soft smile in return, before tilting his head towards the still
slightly-steaming kettle. "W-would you l-like some t-tea b-before you
s-set off?"
Miss
Jekyll and Miss Hyde:  "No
i'm good." Lizzy said.
Tairais:  He
shrugged. "V-very well. I-if y-you will excuse m-me, I s-should r-retire
for t-the n-night."
Miss
Jekyll and Miss Hyde:  "Farewell"
Lizzy said going to her cart.
== Obtained From ==
Memories, Coats, and Headaches
Category:Main Plot
Category:Haunting Pasts