Post by Athena on Aug 1, 2009 20:08:32 GMT -5
He is at least coherent when Gen wakes up. Before, when he wasn't sure if Gen would live or not, he had contemplated going to Scout's liquor cabinet and drinking himself to unconsciousness. Then he hadn't moved, and he sat there, mildly coherent, when Gen wakes up and says dazedly “What's that ticking sound?”
“Clocks,” says Snow.
“Who are you?”
Snow considers this question seriously. He is many things; a warrior, a brother, really tall, morose, and sort of tired. But he answers what he thinks he should.
“Snow.”
Gen squints. “I don't know you.”
“I know.” He figures that if Gen wants to live in the past, he might as well go along with it.
“Where's Pippin?”
“I don't know.”
“Is she safe?”
“I don't know who Pippin is.”
“...Where am I?”
“In a tower.”
“Where's Pippin?”
“I don't know.”
“Is she safe?”
“...I told you, I don't know who Pippin is.”
“She has, uh, medium-length brown hair, she's sort of willowy, she has hazel-nut eyes...”
“I don't know her.”
Gen sits up, stifling a gasp of pain. “I have to go find her.”
“She's fine.”
“You said you didn't know her.”
“She's fine, I said. You're the one that's injured.”
“I don't care, I have to go find Pippin!”
“Who is Pippin?”
Gen blinks up at him owlishly. “Your hair is on fire.”
((“I dropped the crystal ball and it shattered. I'm sorry.”))
Snow reaches up to feel his hair – not a good idea, but whatever, and Gen shoots across the floor, silent and...well, ninja-like – towards the door, and Snow shoots after him, catching him, and though Gen flails, he is not strong enough while injured. Snow ends up throwing him back onto the bed, and Gen lies there, glaring. “I have to go find Pippin,” he explains.
“Pippin. Will. Be. Fine.” he grinds out in response. “You. Are. Gravely. Injured. GO BACK TO SLEEP.”
((So they go back inside together, to where just moments before a mess of glass and sticky liquid had covered the floor. The crystal ball sits on the tabletop. It does not look broken. It looks perfect.))
Every night for three weeks afterwards, Gen would wander the halls, partially delirious. Sometimes he could be shaken out of it, but mostly he just asked about Pippin. Scout claimed the medicines he was taking, but Snow suspected that sometimes, it was all Gen thought about, even in his waking hours. Snow wondered if anyone would ever look for him the way Gen looked for Pippin.
((The boy's eyes widen.))
There is no end to this hallway, only the darkness of my own breathing, and my own thoughts. Reminders. Hopelessness. I don't want to walk these hallways any longer, but I have to find her – have to catch up to her. Sometimes I can hear her laughter, sometimes I can hear her feet running. Once I heard her scream. I have to find her, have to catch up to her – have to catch her. But then the man who calls himself Snow – 'a symptom of the weather', he says – catches me, and tells me I can't find her, not tonight, not today. Tells me that she is safe. But I don't believe him, can't believe him, not when I can hear her footsteps just a few meters away – just a few seconds away, Pippin --- but when I call her name, it all seems to shatter around me, and Snow carries me back to bed.
There is no end to this hallway.
((charcoal drawings of angels, brown rose petals, dustmotes swimming through the darkness))
There is no end to this hallway, only his footsteps ahead of me, and my own thoughts. Reminders. Memories. I don't want to chase after him any longer, but I have to – have to stop him before he reopens the wounds again, have to stop him before he turns another corner and runs into something. Sometimes I can hear him talking to her, sometimes I can hear him laughing with her. Once I heard him swear. I have to find him in these dark hallways, have to catch up to him – have to catch him before he falls a thousand miles into the darky abyss of madness.
There is no end to this hallway.
((I will be so alone. I will be so alone.))
There is no end to this hallway, only his footsteps ahead of me, and my own thoughts. Reminders. Memories. I don't want to chase after him any longer, but I have to – have to stop him before he reopens the wounds again, have to stop him before he turns another corner and runs into something. Sometimes I can hear him talking to her, sometimes I can hear him laughing with her. Once I heard him swear. I have to find him in these dark hallways, have to catch up to him – have to catch him before he falls a thousand miles into the darky abyss of madness.
There is no end to this hallway.
“Clocks,” says Snow.
“Who are you?”
Snow considers this question seriously. He is many things; a warrior, a brother, really tall, morose, and sort of tired. But he answers what he thinks he should.
“Snow.”
Gen squints. “I don't know you.”
“I know.” He figures that if Gen wants to live in the past, he might as well go along with it.
“Where's Pippin?”
“I don't know.”
“Is she safe?”
“I don't know who Pippin is.”
“...Where am I?”
“In a tower.”
“Where's Pippin?”
“I don't know.”
“Is she safe?”
“...I told you, I don't know who Pippin is.”
“She has, uh, medium-length brown hair, she's sort of willowy, she has hazel-nut eyes...”
“I don't know her.”
Gen sits up, stifling a gasp of pain. “I have to go find her.”
“She's fine.”
“You said you didn't know her.”
“She's fine, I said. You're the one that's injured.”
“I don't care, I have to go find Pippin!”
“Who is Pippin?”
Gen blinks up at him owlishly. “Your hair is on fire.”
((“I dropped the crystal ball and it shattered. I'm sorry.”))
Snow reaches up to feel his hair – not a good idea, but whatever, and Gen shoots across the floor, silent and...well, ninja-like – towards the door, and Snow shoots after him, catching him, and though Gen flails, he is not strong enough while injured. Snow ends up throwing him back onto the bed, and Gen lies there, glaring. “I have to go find Pippin,” he explains.
“Pippin. Will. Be. Fine.” he grinds out in response. “You. Are. Gravely. Injured. GO BACK TO SLEEP.”
((So they go back inside together, to where just moments before a mess of glass and sticky liquid had covered the floor. The crystal ball sits on the tabletop. It does not look broken. It looks perfect.))
Every night for three weeks afterwards, Gen would wander the halls, partially delirious. Sometimes he could be shaken out of it, but mostly he just asked about Pippin. Scout claimed the medicines he was taking, but Snow suspected that sometimes, it was all Gen thought about, even in his waking hours. Snow wondered if anyone would ever look for him the way Gen looked for Pippin.
((The boy's eyes widen.))
There is no end to this hallway, only the darkness of my own breathing, and my own thoughts. Reminders. Hopelessness. I don't want to walk these hallways any longer, but I have to find her – have to catch up to her. Sometimes I can hear her laughter, sometimes I can hear her feet running. Once I heard her scream. I have to find her, have to catch up to her – have to catch her. But then the man who calls himself Snow – 'a symptom of the weather', he says – catches me, and tells me I can't find her, not tonight, not today. Tells me that she is safe. But I don't believe him, can't believe him, not when I can hear her footsteps just a few meters away – just a few seconds away, Pippin --- but when I call her name, it all seems to shatter around me, and Snow carries me back to bed.
There is no end to this hallway.
((charcoal drawings of angels, brown rose petals, dustmotes swimming through the darkness))
There is no end to this hallway, only his footsteps ahead of me, and my own thoughts. Reminders. Memories. I don't want to chase after him any longer, but I have to – have to stop him before he reopens the wounds again, have to stop him before he turns another corner and runs into something. Sometimes I can hear him talking to her, sometimes I can hear him laughing with her. Once I heard him swear. I have to find him in these dark hallways, have to catch up to him – have to catch him before he falls a thousand miles into the darky abyss of madness.
There is no end to this hallway.
((I will be so alone. I will be so alone.))
There is no end to this hallway, only his footsteps ahead of me, and my own thoughts. Reminders. Memories. I don't want to chase after him any longer, but I have to – have to stop him before he reopens the wounds again, have to stop him before he turns another corner and runs into something. Sometimes I can hear him talking to her, sometimes I can hear him laughing with her. Once I heard him swear. I have to find him in these dark hallways, have to catch up to him – have to catch him before he falls a thousand miles into the darky abyss of madness.
There is no end to this hallway.