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Post by Overture & Arrow on Jul 16, 2006 7:00:14 GMT 12
The mind of a bigot is like the pupil of the eye. The more light you shine on it, the more it will contract.
-Oliver Wendell Holmes Jr.
November's feet scraped slowly along the dark tunnels of the subway. His milky brown eyes scanned for a place to sit, and soon they locked onto a small crack leaving a slight indentation in the wall. In one swift motion, he removed the strap carrying his precious guitar off his shoulder. But before he could even play, unwanted memories came back to him again.
"November!" he remembered her calling before they got to deep in the tunnel. "You're positive that the trains don't run anymore?" she aked over and over again, eyes wide and full of fear.
A smile graced his face as he lifted his hand to rest it on her hair. "Don't worry" he grinned, for the thousanth time. "I'll keep you safe"
But those were just memories now, a thing of the past. He had heard the healing process would take a long time, but not this long? It was drawing close to two years scince... that night.... but the horrible clawing in his gut told him otherwise. Strumming the strings of his guitar, he hardly noticed that a thick, pearly tear was sliding nown it's neck.
[Cue anyone, prefferably a girl] |
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Post by Aderyn on Jul 17, 2006 13:48:51 GMT 12
It was dark underground, in that space where no wind blew. The elevators and escalators had stopped working in the years since the Plague, though to her it looked like the subway was merely closed, for it was still intact and standing, unlike the crumbling buildings standing all around it.
It was a shadow, she thought with a faint smile as she flitted inside, standing at the top of one of the escalators. A shadow of what it had originally been. She doubted that many came in here anymore, for the only ones that really seemed to like confined spaces were the Rats, and they were more sewer kids than anything else. Shaking her head slightly, Shadow let out a sigh that seemed loud in this empty place. She and the buildings had something in common; they were naught but shadows of what they had once been - though in her case, she was glad she wasn't as insanely stupid as before.
With a start, the girl realized that she wasn't alone. So much for her tracking skills - a guitar echoed faintly down the tunnel, something she should have heard from the beginning. Her gaze turned toward the darkness, and she shrugged. Exploring had always been her thing - always meaning ever since she had found out that her friends were idiotic b.itches - and what better place to do it than in a near-pitch-black tunnel?
Shadow moved down the tunnels, following the music almost lazily. She didn't stop to think about what she would find at the end, but then, she rarely did. Even used to the darkness, it took her a moment to notice the boy that was actually making the pretty sounds. She couldn't tell what tribe he was from, face paint - if he had any - being hard to see in the darkness, but was willing to bet that he wasn't a Wildcat.
What the heck. It wasn't like he could do anything to her - even death wouldn't be horrible, or even a shock, any more. She might as well be friendly. "Hey," she said softly, a humorless smile twisting her features. "And I thought I was the only one stupid enough to come down here."
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Post by Overture & Arrow on Jul 17, 2006 16:05:28 GMT 12
For a few secconds, November didn't even realise that the Wildcat was standing near him. Slowly inclining his head to stare at the girl who had walked close to him. Though he recognized the facepaint of the Wildcats on her, it didn't matter. Though they had a reputation to be vicious, the Guitarist had reasons to beleive otherwise. As that thought drifted through his mind, he went back to his "Happy Place" for a few secconds before he responded. "Yeah...
he began, voice slightly shaky. "The darkness helps me gets kindsa lost..." His thick brown eyes grew cloudy as he looked down to stare at his instrument |
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Post by Aderyn on Jul 18, 2006 1:43:16 GMT 12
She let the smile fade as she stretched, saying nothing for some moments. She had come to New Pork once before, back before the Plague, when her father was still rich and she an idiotic snob. Back then, she had been shocked by how big it was, but even more than that, she'd been shocked by the size and volume of the crowds.
Now there were no crowds to be shocked by.
Whereas this train station had once bustled with life at all hours, it was now empty and deserted, with perhaps a few loose leaf papers blown onto the tracks. It was the perfect place to get lost, as the Cigarette had pointed out. If you didn't mind the oppressing silence, it was the perfect place to hang out, as well - one of the few public places that had been disturbed by few.
"No one can see through the darkness," Shadow reminded, a wry twist to her voice. "Everyone gets lost down here, if you go in deep enough - so deep that there's no light to guide you back. But then, you're lost forever...because chances are, once you get that deep, you're never coming out."
Käthe would have been scared of that, she thought with a sigh. Käthe would never have come down here alone, or even with a group of happy, chattering followers. She had always feared the unknown, from death to the unexplored forest behind her house. And here she was with the unknown all around her, basking in it, enjoying it - as much as anyone could, in this place.
But she was Käthe no longer. Käthe was a girl of parties and laughter, turned up noses and pretty smiles - even when she didn't feel like smiling. Käthe had died in that fall of the fence, when all her friends had deserted her. She had died again with Adelaide.
Now, for all intents and purposes, she was Shadow, a Wildcat hunter. "Then again," she continued, no longer entirely sure who she was speaking to - the Cigarette, herself, or some invisible presence - "maybe we're all in that deep - we signed our death warrants by coming into this city, did we not? And no one can ever escape, any more than we can escape the impenetrable blackness of our fears, hates, and desires."
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Post by Overture & Arrow on Jul 19, 2006 15:18:25 GMT 12
[Nice... Now I have to horse that  ]
The Cigarette stared at the guitar, then lifted a hand and sroked a chord... the chord she taught him in the last week he ever knew of her. Though it wasn't a real note, she played around with it untill she got a sound she liked, then taught it to him so he could play it for her.
"I can't get lost in here" he said, his voice thick with emotion. "Plus..." November started to continue. "I died long ago..." His eyes suddenly grew cloudy and he felt a thick tear roll down his cheek. "I didn't mean to" he whispered almost inaudiably so she couldn't hear the cracking in his voice.
He knew he hurt her... but he was a man, and they did that sometimes. He was only human... soon he would be able to apologise to her. As the thought came to his mind, the image of the noose wrapped so tightly around his love's neck...
Though his chest felt like there was a small animal inside gnawing at him, he decided to finish what he was going to say. Though he started without the whole story, he somehow knew she wold understand. Gripping the neck of his guitar so tightly his knuckles turned white. "She killed herself because of me... S-she was always kindof insecure." He kept his voice very strong despite the horrible confession he was putting himself through. "She was jealous because of a friendship I had with another girl..." Despite the moment, November let loose a chuckle. "I don't even know why I'm telling you this... I don't even know your name..."
[*Grumpy face* he's not blubbering! He's a strong man! SHOW LITTLE SYMPATHY!] |
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Post by Aderyn on Jul 22, 2006 6:01:00 GMT 12
She just sat there for a moment, silently contemplating. It was rare to find someone who had not lost someone or something in this wreck of a city, but this Cigarette seemed to be dealing with even more grief and guilt than most- and in a far different way, for unlike most of his fellow tribesmen, he did not kill crazily to ease the ache inside - or at least that was what it looked like to her.
"My name is Shadow, or that's what I go by here. I don't care to remember the person I was Outside - I don't like to remember at all, really. I don't have that many good experiences to loose myself in." The only good experiences she had ever had were with Adelaide - the one creature she had ever known that wasn't solely obsessed with herself. Her sister had not deserved to die - she had deserved to die. She still did.
Adelaide had paid the price for her older sisters mistakes and shortcomings. But she had not minded, because that was the girl she was. She had not wanted to die; Shadow was sure of that. But - oh, it was impossible to explain, even to herself. But she knew what she knew, and no one was going to convince her otherwise.
Settling herself on the floor, she propped her chin on one hand. "It's like a soap opera, living here," she observed softly. "All that pain - all that death. She killed herself for you, because of you. Some would say that it's a blessing, to have someone care that deeply about you." The Wildcat let out a harsh laugh, shaking her head. "I say it's a curse."
She hesitated a moment, gaze flicking over the Cigarette in the dim light. "I guess we have something in common there. My sister-" Shadow paused abruptly, the lump in her throat cutting her off. After a moment, she plowed on, "My sister died because of me as well, I suppose. It wasn't suicide, but it was just as bad. She was the brightest, friendiest, most amazing person I ever knew - and I killed her."
Meeting his gaze, she shrugged. "It wasn't murder, but I as good as picked up the knife and stabbed her myself. We were taking a shortcut home, through gang territory. I knew it was gang territory - so did she. She didn't want to be there, but I was older - I promised her I'd keep her safe. I failed her. I'll never forgive myself for that." If this kid wasn't bright enough to figure out how Adelaide's death had come about, he didn't need to know. Besides, she would never be able to say the words aloud.
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Post by Overture & Arrow on Jul 22, 2006 14:31:39 GMT 12
The Cigarette smiled through the crust of tears that was starting to cover his cheeks. "People here call me November" he announced, slightly proud of the alias he obtained. "I wish I could be born again with a different name though..." he continued on. "It holds to many memories..."
As he trailed his eyes through the dim darkness of the subway, they found his ways to his guitar, well, not really his guitar, but good enough. The seventh fret had a splash of pink paint on it, as well as the tuner for a few strings. From her playing with paint she found. The neck had fingernail marks on it, from when she grabbed it to get his attention when he was in his bubble. The sticker on the back of the instrument; her favourite quote.
"If I Can Alleviate The Blood Spilling From Your Crown Of Thorns, Then I Won't Mind Being Your Favourite Doll.... I should be the one dead too." November quoted aloud after he heard Shadow's story. "When I think of what a horrible person I am, I think I'm like her savior." He began. If you think of all the horrible things that would've happened to her anyway, it's a bit of a blessing that you spared her through it..." His voice trailed off. "You should try it." He said strongly after, a grin painted on his beautiful face.
[Sorry, a bit of a brin fart"
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Post by Aderyn on Jul 23, 2006 9:17:45 GMT 12
She sighed, shaking her head. "Everything has far too many memories, if you let it stay the same long enough. But to your tribe, you will always be November - you can't change that." There was a bitter tone to her voice, as there often was nowadays, though she didn't bother to explain further on the subject of names or memories.
"I wish I were the dead one, sometimes. Then something happens, and I'm distracted - until I'm alone again." At the Cigarette's talk of being his girlfriend's - or whoever she was - savior, she shook her head, letting out a harsh laugh. "But that's just it - she didn't want to have a 'savior', and she probably never would have. To her, the world was beautiful, not like getting continuously thumped over the head by a hammer or something. She loved life, never got tired of it and I never saw her cry, and rarely saw her yell. I never did understand it."
Searching his face - or what little she could see of it in the dark - she then stared down at the ground, silent for a few seconds. "I wish I could believe I was her savior, sparing her all the problems of life. But..." She trailed off, somewhat surprised by her sudden vocalization. She rarely spoke this much about her history, but telling November the first bit - about her sister's death - had seemed the right thing to do, somehow, and now that it was out...it seemed that she couldn't stop talking, or analyzing, or whatever she was now doing.
Shadow shifted position slightly, staring off into the darkness, away from the door. It would be so easy to get lost down here, thus ending her life. She might try it sometime, too - but not yet. There were so many things to be seen in this city, although much of it was connected with death or depression. Two things that never reminded her of Adelaide, so here - ironically - she was safe.
Not from getting herself stabbed to death, perhaps, but safe from the emotional pain that cut ever so much deper. Except when she got caught in situations like these, as then she couldn't help but remember. She couldn't help but try to comfort the victim; perhaps it was the slowly shrinking, uncorrupted part of her soul reaching out for contact. The part she hadn't known she had until she really began to hang out with her little sister.
No, mustn't think that. She would think of the girl that this boy had lost, would talk to him. Would not remember the look on Adelaide's face as that last shot was fired - Käthe shook her head to clear it, pushing the Käthe side of her down - and then she was Shadow again, hopefully untainted by memory or emotion as far as her sister was concerned.
The key word there being "hopefully".
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Post by Overture & Arrow on Jul 23, 2006 10:22:02 GMT 12
November sat fora moment, eyelids heavy over his amber irises. Letting a slow sigh rasp from his throat, he turned and scanned his eyes to her face. "I heard that if you lie to yourself enough, the lie becomes true to you" he said smiling. "Like back when I used to stay at an orphanage, there was a flag plole there and all the kids were climbing it." the Cigarette felt himself blush and picked up his hand to cover his reddening face, though nobody could see it. "I was the only one who couldn't reach the top, but I told myself over and over agin that I did..." he had a habit of his voice trailing off.
He sat in the darkness thinking to himself, hardly aware of the girl so close to him. All he knew was her name, he could harldly see her features... But somehow he felt connected to her. They were so much alike... and he was feeling... better...
Out of the blue, November though of another thing that was bothering him. "Have you ever contemplated suicide?" the boy asked. "I did for a while, but then I thought of a theory about this death stuff..." Again the voice trailed off from his throat.
He had never shared his thoery with anyone, but mabye this was a good time. She was understanding everything else he was thinking, mabye she'd get this too. |
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Post by Aderyn on Jul 23, 2006 10:56:14 GMT 12
"Some things go too deep to be lied about," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. It didn't really matter if anyone had heard her, really. November could make what he wished of her statement; she wasn't going to try and explain any more than what she was already thinking. "Reaching the top of a flagpole doesn't matter, really. But some memories will never be covered up, no matter what you do or how hard you try."
A self-hating smile crossed her face at the boy's next question, and she raised a hand to brush her hair out of her face. "I've contemplated suicide - it was all I did last summer." She shook her head slightly, continuing, "I was the richest, most popular, snottiest girl in the entire school up until my Sophomore year. Then I got pushed off a fifteen-foot fence - don't ask - and broke my neck. I was in the hospital for weeks, and lost my rank in the school. When my father lost all his money, I suddenly lost my status as richest, too. I wanted to die. The only good thing about that summer was that I grew up a bit. The world didn't revolve around me anymore."
And then I ended up here - but she didn't add that part. It was obvious; she was sitting in this subway station talking, after all. Besides, from their previous conversation, this kid already knew how she had ended up here, or pretty much. If he could add two and two - and it seemed that he could - it would be easy to figure out.
Lapsing into silence, her eyes strayed back to November. She didn't press him about the theory - if he wanted to tell, he would tell, and she wasn't about to die of curiousity or anything, anyway. Besides, she liked silence - the quiet, comforting kind. If the silence got to loud, she tended to kill something - though that something was rarely human; more often a rat of the animal form, or something like that. Frankly, humans were too hard and there were too few of them for her to kill them every time she got irritated.
But that didn't mean that she never tried.
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Post by Overture & Arrow on Jul 26, 2006 10:22:08 GMT 12
[Sorry I haven't posted back in a while!]
November smiled at the girl, barely visible in the darkness they sat in. The boy was slightly glad she didn't ask about his theory, but also disappointed too. Embarrassed by it, he's not one to share things that close, but disappointed too. He felt everyone should feel that way.... If only she felt that way.
As a deep scilence was shoved between the two after her talk of suicide, he decided to share his thoughts, and share his theory at the same time. "I'd rather go on living than kill myself" he stated, trying to sound firm. "Trust me, I've thought about it, but then I realized..." he hesistated, then sighed. "I know nobody loves me like I love her, but so many people die every day... someone has to get hurt and I want nobody to feel the way I do all the time"
Augh, How stupid. He had just told his innermost secret to some complete stranger sitting in an old subway track. The Cigarette somehow didn't feel upset, though. He knew she would understand no matter what he said, unlike his tribe. He tried to tell someone he thought was his friend, and he was beaten and laughed at.. He inhaled and braced himself for the laughter that would soon erupt from her mouth. |
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Post by Aderyn on Aug 8, 2006 1:59:47 GMT 12
[No problem - it took me way longer. v.v]
Käthe raised her eyebrows, pondering this new piece of information. She wasn't much of a believer - never had been - and didn't understand what people saw in their notions of a higher power. Perhaps it was just a scrap of something to hold onto, a way to justify any action, or to have no need to make the important decisions for them - the others of their faith would punish them if they did something "wrong".
But this, this made sense in a twisted sort of way. There were people out there that got insane amounts of luck, and then those - like her, November, and anyone else in this twisted wreck of a city - that had to live life on the sidelines, never knowing that golden rush of love or happiness.
"That's interesting... Though you aren't alone in that, either, to be sure," she told him with a sigh. "Everyone here is struggling with some memory - some something that they want to keep hidden. All the murders we've together committed; all the laughter we've smothered; all the light we've snuffed out. But we keep going - still, it's gotta end eventually. That's the secret of my existance, anyway: everything has to end eventually. The good and the bad."
She shrugged, shaking her head. "So if it's a question of pain and too much concentrated bad luck, I suppose this whole city is a talisman for it - along with LA, I guess, if the news casters are right and they're the same's us. Everyone else in the world - or at least the country - should be lucky and happy and perfect" - she spat out the word as if it were a curse - "right now."
The girl's eyes flashed as she stared off into the distance, angry that it seemed they were paying the price for everyone's evils. Yes, they had all chosen to come here; true, they could have balked upon seeing the fence or run at any time; obviously, they could decide not to kill. But what would that have done? She - along with most others, she was sure - had come because it had seemed the place for those alone, and there had been nowhere left for her. At times, if she had not killed, it would have been her corpse rotting away in some dark alley - and as much as she was unsure if she wanted to live, she wanted to die by her own hand rather than anyone else's. Running away - that would do even less good. All that awaited them was quarentine and then therapy and probably a life sentence in jail, after all the kills.
Exactly what she wanted to do with her life. Really.
She shook her head. It was an endless circle of pain and death. She would never again see anyone once known as "friend", never find out if her parents' financial problems had been straightened out, and certainly never redeem herself in Adelaide's eyes, if there really was an afterlife and her sister could see all she'd done. She probably wouldn't ever be truly happy, either, but then, she could live with that. She couldn't really miss an emotion she had never felt - could she?
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