Topic: Everything I Am

Necromesh

Date: 2008-09-30 10:11 EST
?Where are we?? Skid sat upon a soft, delightfully musty old leather chair in the center of a study. He was surprised in his comfort, not knowing how he had ended up there, where there exactly was, or why he was wearing a fine ?if old and a bit worn- grey suit. He hadn?t a mask or patch, either, though he felt very equalized regardless. The walls and shelves -filled to bursting with all manner of strange literature- were a deep, reddish stain. Even the books? various colours were all seemingly centered upon a shade of red.

?We?re inside of our mind, Ignorance.? His own voice rumbled out of the air above and behind him, but it wasn?t his, was it? ?Why are you calling me that?? His head turned up and craned around. One illuminated blank picture frame hung on the wall high up in the study, on the second floor. There were nine other similarly-sized portraits around the room, indecipherable in the darkness. Across from the second floor?s one window, a larger portrait was shrouded in an even deeper darkness than the rest. The window?s light was feeble, but the darkness was obviously something more than nature at work. Over the balcony that rimmed the walkway of that open, second floor leaned? Himself? No, this Skid was different. Its body was longer, crueler, and sharper than his. It wore a similar suit, though torn around the joints to accommodate its increased size. Even its head was longer, with a well-pronounced snout and curling horns; almost beastly in appearance.

He tilted his decidedly more Draconian head to the side, contemplating upon whether or not he should answer the entirely unknowledgeable version of himself in the chair downstairs. ?Why are you calling me Beast?? Before the besuited Skid had time to process this properly, the Beast had jumped from the balcony and landed behind his chair. "How di-?" A single long, hateful arm whipped the lounger aside with barely enough time for Skid to fall forwards out of it. It smashed into a bookshelf, volumes tumbling to the ground in a great heap over the aged leather and splintered wooden skeleton. Skid scrambled to his feet, hands searching along the walls for some weapon or means of defense. The Beast threw its head back, and laughed. ?You can?t hurt me, Ignorance. We?re the same.? A devastating hand crushed against Skid?s throat, before he could gain his bearings, and brought him to a fate similar to that of the chair. ?Why? Why can you hurt me, then..?? Skid clawed his way out of the pile of books, the titles all things he couldn?t seem to read correctly.

?Because you think I can. I?m not weak. I don?t suffer needs and desires like you do. I?m not going to be the link that snaps, and it?s my turn to take control.? The Beast?s breath was hot, and pervasive. Skid didn?t like it one bit, but he hardly had time to think on this. The Beast had reached up and pulled, and the entire bookshelf was coming down on him, and he wasn?t strong enough to stop it. He wondered if this was what Humans felt like when a large object fell on them, and then his world went black. All he could hear was laughter. All he could feel was pain.

"Now they'll all pay for their weakness, their misconceptions, and their foolish trust in you. They'll pay with blood, and flesh, and bone!" A thick, cold cackle filled the air of the room, and the Beast stalked towards the massive cherry door that lead from the study. "I can't wait to collect.." The last sound in the room was the click of a door. The Beast was free to run rampant.

Necromesh

Date: 2008-10-05 01:52 EST
?Wha-? Oh, here again.? Skid found himself once again seated in that massive, ancient leather lounger. Only it wasn?t ancient. It looked downright new. It, along with the rest of the study, seemed to have been spruced considerably. There was sunlight filtering in through the lone second floor window, coating the goldenrod walls and gold-stained bookshelves. The only darkness was that surrounding eight of the smaller portraits, and the massive one at the ?end? of the balcony circle. ?Wait. Eight?? Two portraits were now illuminated by their display lights, both empty. The first had been what that thing, that Beast had come from, but the second was in darkness like the rest.

Thoroughly worried over the prospect of another senseless vacation beneath a bookshelf that was heavy enough to crush a house; Skid leapt from his chair and looked frantically for a sign of the creature. To his great surprise, he found himself sitting by the fireplace. It wasn?t him, per say, but it was a very small, young Child that looked almost exactly as he did at that age. It was surely coincidence. He couldn?t have been more than four or five years old, and his suit that matched Skid?s was bunched up and folded over to properly fit, the tails of the coat splayed out behind him and a tiny length of rope from one of the curtains holding up the pants. He sat by the edge of the hearth with an open picture book, reading happily despite the disturbance caused by the older, larger Skid. ?He?s not here. He can?t get through the door anymore, unless you ask him to. Ignorance, why are we all stuck away like that?? The Child spoke as a small, clawed finger rose to point at the remainder of the portraits upon the second floor.

?I don?t know. And why are you calling me Ignorance, too?? Skid?s eyes narrowed for a moment, his voice sharpened. The Child cringed, and scrambled away from the book to huddle against the angle between the hearth and the supporting wall. ?I?m sorry. Don?t be angry with me.. Please.? The Child?s body seemed to be trying to close itself up into nothingness. Skid would?ve been amused, if he didn?t have the distinct feeling that this little one was intrinsically connected to him in so many ways. ?I?m not angry.? His head cast itself off to the side, eyes half-lidded in mocked disinterest. The little one watched him, like a wary deer upon the thicket?s edge. ?But I would like to know why you?re calling me Ignorance, like that Beast did.? He walked away, and sank back into the lounger. ?And why I came back here. And why the walls and shelves are all golden now, instead of red.?

?Well,? the Child rose, and took small steps to retrieve his book before approaching Skid himself, ?when we get to come out, we have to discover what we are, I think..? He clutched the book tightly to his chest, while the elder sat upon the lounger and quirked an eyeridge. ?I think it?s my turn. Can I see what?s outside? Maybe just for a little bit? Please, Ignorance?? Skid was ready to start complaining about the title, but he felt a powerful need to expose this Child to the world. Make it learn, grow, and conquer its fears. Maybe this was what proper parents felt like. Nurturing, caring; good people.

Or maybe he was just narcissistic, and looking out for another piece of himself. Either way, he couldn?t see what the harm could be in this Child seeing what was out there. He nodded. The child smiled wide and placed the picture book on the lounger?s arm. ?Thank you, Ignorance! I?ll be good; promise.? He scampered over to the cherry door, and opened it. As Skid realized that he?d heard that door close before, and it had led to darkness everywhere for days, he rose to shout out.

Click.

Skid realized after a moment that not everything went black. In fact, nothing went black. The room was very much the same as it had been before. The door, however, was locked. It was indestructible as well. He decided to wait it out. He fell backwards into the lounger, and relaxed. His landing had awoken the book, however, and it tumbled into his lap. The spine was a little worn, and the front was utterly devoid of any type of informative wording. It just said ?Skid? on it. The inside, when he opened it, revealed nothing but pictures of himself, in pencil, pen, charcoal, paint, and almost every other medium in every style they must have made for copying a living image. There were even a few photographs. He looked through the book for a while, but after ten minutes, he couldn?t do so much as keep his eyes open. The world went black, and he drew into a deep sleep, kept by his rhythmic breathing. The Child was freed to learn and feel.

Necromesh

Date: 2009-03-26 13:39 EST
This time, Skid had expected it, almost. ?Fantastic.? His hands rose up to ruffle and adjust the suit he found himself in at all times in this place. The room was grander this time, but the finishes were all fresh and dark, the walls a fanciful crimson, the feeling more cozy; as if the room had been affectionately cared for and made to shine its brightest with what it was given. When he turned around to find his seat, he was met with himself. Though his features were finer; more beautiful, perhaps, he was undeniably as Skid as Skid himself. His shirt was open, his tie was undone, and he had a much saucier grin on his face than Skid would?ve had under most circumstances. ?And who might you be? The Undresser? The Lounger? The Ass-That-Finally-Tells-Me-Who-You-All-Are?? The tone he spoke in understated Skid?s hatred of this place to a very high degree. He didn?t understand it, though he understood how he got here. It was the worst kind of understanding, to be sure. The saucy one stood, walked over to Skid, and placed a clawed finger overtop of his double?s lips. The simple grace and nonchalance with which he moved confused Skid into a state of inaction and skyward eyeridges.

?Quiet yourself, my love.? The saucy one tilted his head to the side, smiling a soft smile that Skid was fairly certain he couldn?t have ever smiled, or ever had the possibility of smiling. ?You know what?s going to happen soon, don?t you?? Skid?s eye widened, and he began to speak. Before a sound could escape, however, his face was quite occupied with? His face. Well, the other face that looked as if it could be his. Forehead to forehead, nose to nose, horns intertwined. It was very artful, even the opposite looks upon their faces. A simple, loving silence from the more beautiful of the two, while Skid?s face utilized the angles it held out in stark contrast to make his scowl all the more raucous and offensive. ?What, exactly, do you think you?re doing? You can?t take control. Nothing useful, or amusing, or, beneficial has come of it yet, and nothing like that ever will.? It was a wonder the words got past the thresher of needled teeth and barbed tongues vying for the privilege to shred that pretty face just inches away. ?Just sit quietly until you can sort yourself out.?

He?d stepped closer and backed his more elegant, fragile self into a bookshelf. A few volumes, various in name and subject, came crashing down around them. ?I am nobody?s toy, love.? The tone had been warped and cracked into a sick mockery of the pretty Skid?s endearing words. Surprisingly, all Skid got back was a pair of hands upon the sides of his face, softer than his should be, so they weren?t his. ?I?m surprised you figured me out so quickly. I thought that since we?d never really, connected, that there would?ve been a much longer back and forth. But you do catch on.? It was a mockery in itself, but Skid was far too flabbergasted to respond. The other was an opportunist, and made the killing stroke in the toss-up of awareness.

A simple kiss. Now, the first and foremost instinct Skid had was to draw back, which was made terribly hard by the knee that cozied itself right beneath his ribcage, and just above the hips in a motion too fast for him to keep up with under the circumstances. ?And now, your graciousness will give me wings, dearest Ignorance.? As Skid coughed and sputtered from the kick, the beautiful Lover selected a book from the shelf and slid it free. The book was high and sizeable, the perfect tool to bring about in a whirlwind swipe to smash across Skid?s face. He went down like a ragdoll, sprawled and twitching sporadically as the Lover approached. He approached without trepidation, lowering onto one knee to lift Skid?s head up into his arms. His voice was quavering on the edge of consciousness, even as he pressed a question. ?W-who are you..??

?Me?? A too-smooth hand ran across Skid?s head, comforting if it didn?t belong to this creature, ?You can call me anything you?d like; I?m sure I?ll love it.? Only then did his smile turn dark, and the hand that comforted wrapped around the back of his charge?s neck. Skid struggled, but he was thrown back into the shelves before he could do anything of consequence. ?Don?t wait up, I?ll be having a lovely time without you around to muck things up.? Skid turned, and ran for the door in a manner too frenzied and desperate to be real. ?Pok jaka, wux xihuuli-uli!? It clicked shut when he reached it, and his hours were spent beating the door with any instrument he could take, until the darkness came and took him.