Post by Robert on Jun 15, 2007 11:15:28 GMT -5
...And finally, there he stood. His foot almost swaying over the edge of that highest cliff. In all the gods' realms this was but the highest peak, and thus, the highest decent. Into hell himself he would cast his body, letting the flames lick his body as those sharp winds so did...
By the light of a bedside lamp Robert read a blank-covered, old looking book. One of the ancient novels, one may presume, or just really poorly preserved. The latter was more likely, though undoubtedly unimportant. One may take the time to think it odd that Robert would be reading, and of his own will the notion was nigh impossible. And it was.
Robert's recent acquaintance, the so-called "self-obsessed" professor, had suggested (which thus meant "ordered") him to take a look at some good literature. He himself had said to just ask the librarian for a blank, old novel, 4 and one ninth inches by 7 and three eleventh inches by 15 otorses. Robert then received the paperback.
Though he was without questioning a somewhat literature-lacking (though not particularly illiterate) boy, Robert had found the book a possibly interesting (but still meaningless) task to complete. It had forced him to regard his own self, though as soon as he dog-eared the book such thoughts had disappeared. He simply flipped off the lamp-switch and let his head fall to the pillow, relaxing himself and letting unconsciousness grasp him...
It wasn't long before Robert re-opened those lustless orbs and looked to the ceiling. It was as one sometimes felt upon their own. The inability to let one's brain cease function. Without hesitation one could blame the book, though it mattered little. Robert simply sat back up, and began the menial task of preparing himself accordingly (gloves and all) for the task of strolling through Babylos.
He could soon hear the rain falling out side, flooding the now muddy grass, though leaving the trail unmarked significantly (if not just a little bit slippery). Robert made no attempt to hide the fact (beyond normal standards): he disliked rain. The rain made him feel almost numb from the erratic feed he got. Rain was one of those things that was a pure representation of mother nature, and nothing had more power than that. With every drop he leached just a little bit more mana into his self, and there were drops-a-plenty. It was partially frustrating to a small part of Robert's more human side, as it allowed fairly little thought. Though full thought was required little to Robert in most circumstances.
Robert continued off the large academy campus to what one may call the "main strip" of Babylos. It was untouched by people this night, for not only were the stores (of which there were many) were closed, but the weather was undoubtedly unappealing. It made it that much more strange to notice someone, apparently quite cheery, running without care in the rain. The fact that rain seemed not to touch her seemed fairly normal in the place that he walked, though what seemed a small bit strange (even to Robert was the fact that she wore quite little. Beyond some very low-cut jean short-shorts and what resembled a piece of cloth strapped along her breasts she leaped and bounded through the middle of the road. Her pace was quick and the fact she could keep it up was even more amazing. It was naturally not long before she was next to Robert, and to him she payed attention to the world she seemed to have forgotten. She looked down at him, as her true height of about six foot loomed at him with carefree eyes. Her face made him gasp a moment. Her eyebrows furrowed.
"Something wrong, kid? What, you never seen a chick's body before."
Robert was stunned for a moment, and even began to speak...
"u-"
...before he remembered his place and just stood with his head down. She started again.
"What, do I remind you of someone? Like her?"
Robert looked around and saw... rain. He sighed silently and the girl began to chuckle with delight. She then gave a pitying sound.
"Sorry, puke? Were you looking for this?"
He turned around suddenly and saw... a head. His eyes were wide for the first time in a long while, and it was something he found particularly unammusing. That head... that face. He dropped it as reflex had forced him to catch it. He began to hear that monotone sound that caught him, that scream. He hated it, loathed it... feared it. He almost begged to the girl.
"Wh-what are...?"
But she was gone. All that was left were bodies. All the same. Corpses everywhere around. Nothing could be seen, but flesh, all eyes turned to him. He... he had to get away. His mind began to ache and claw at him.
"Damn it! Damn it!"
They spoke in unison, all voices in ironic caring, mocking him with that sound he remembered... her sound.
"I love you Robert... please get away."
He looked around fearfully, and in his mind the situation just worsened. He began to doubt himself, hate himself. Regret. Anger. Pain. It was... so bad.
"We love you Robert... stay away."
"I... I..."
And suddenly, they all screamed in that monotone, high-pitched roar. He clutched his ears and he... cried?
"I... I didn't do it! It wasn't me..."
"Don't lie, Robert! It's bad for you!"
The memories all came flooding back, and he shut his eyes. Sweat dripped from his head, mixed with rain. He fell to his knees, and let his forehead hit the ground with a thud.
"Rob-"
"SHUT UP!!!"
...light. The light of dawn? No, afternoon. What? That didn't add up. It had become late, but not that late. Robert looked up to see the light of mid-day catch his eyes. He heard light gasps all around, and his hazy vision came to. He looked up and saw a face. Was it hers? His caretaker. Mother? No, a man?
"Uh!"
Robert suddenly leaped up, pushing the man away and turning himself, stance like that of a frightened cat. Confusion, probably, more than fear. He heard a soothing voice, rising from the ground. It was the man whom was actually a bit scrawny. The one Robert had pushed away.
"Easy, now? Do you know what's ha-"
The crowds suddenly parted as if being pushed by giant, invisible hand. A slash in the ground began to part the concrete before it stopped in-front of Robert's face. A sword suddenly thrust out and pushed against his throat. The other man began to protest.
"Hey! This is no place for tha-"
The concrete suddenly burst open and a man in a loose blue uniform seemed to almost teleport out. The uniform said it all: he was what one may call a "police-man" of Babylos. Essentially, if the tracers were the CIA, these guys were the FBI. He spoke in harsh words, face unseen by Robert.
"This boy will be taken in for disturbing the peace. Need I remind you of my status?"
Robert now noted the sword in his hand, and further ventured a guess as to that not having regular properties. His eyes had somewhat calmed down by now, though panic presented in heavy breaths.
(OOC: I heavily invite anyone to join this thread. I depict a lot of change for Robert in many ways, and if this so intrigues you, then by all means come in and enjoy. My welcome extends to all!)
By the light of a bedside lamp Robert read a blank-covered, old looking book. One of the ancient novels, one may presume, or just really poorly preserved. The latter was more likely, though undoubtedly unimportant. One may take the time to think it odd that Robert would be reading, and of his own will the notion was nigh impossible. And it was.
Robert's recent acquaintance, the so-called "self-obsessed" professor, had suggested (which thus meant "ordered") him to take a look at some good literature. He himself had said to just ask the librarian for a blank, old novel, 4 and one ninth inches by 7 and three eleventh inches by 15 otorses. Robert then received the paperback.
Though he was without questioning a somewhat literature-lacking (though not particularly illiterate) boy, Robert had found the book a possibly interesting (but still meaningless) task to complete. It had forced him to regard his own self, though as soon as he dog-eared the book such thoughts had disappeared. He simply flipped off the lamp-switch and let his head fall to the pillow, relaxing himself and letting unconsciousness grasp him...
It wasn't long before Robert re-opened those lustless orbs and looked to the ceiling. It was as one sometimes felt upon their own. The inability to let one's brain cease function. Without hesitation one could blame the book, though it mattered little. Robert simply sat back up, and began the menial task of preparing himself accordingly (gloves and all) for the task of strolling through Babylos.
He could soon hear the rain falling out side, flooding the now muddy grass, though leaving the trail unmarked significantly (if not just a little bit slippery). Robert made no attempt to hide the fact (beyond normal standards): he disliked rain. The rain made him feel almost numb from the erratic feed he got. Rain was one of those things that was a pure representation of mother nature, and nothing had more power than that. With every drop he leached just a little bit more mana into his self, and there were drops-a-plenty. It was partially frustrating to a small part of Robert's more human side, as it allowed fairly little thought. Though full thought was required little to Robert in most circumstances.
Robert continued off the large academy campus to what one may call the "main strip" of Babylos. It was untouched by people this night, for not only were the stores (of which there were many) were closed, but the weather was undoubtedly unappealing. It made it that much more strange to notice someone, apparently quite cheery, running without care in the rain. The fact that rain seemed not to touch her seemed fairly normal in the place that he walked, though what seemed a small bit strange (even to Robert was the fact that she wore quite little. Beyond some very low-cut jean short-shorts and what resembled a piece of cloth strapped along her breasts she leaped and bounded through the middle of the road. Her pace was quick and the fact she could keep it up was even more amazing. It was naturally not long before she was next to Robert, and to him she payed attention to the world she seemed to have forgotten. She looked down at him, as her true height of about six foot loomed at him with carefree eyes. Her face made him gasp a moment. Her eyebrows furrowed.
"Something wrong, kid? What, you never seen a chick's body before."
Robert was stunned for a moment, and even began to speak...
"u-"
...before he remembered his place and just stood with his head down. She started again.
"What, do I remind you of someone? Like her?"
Robert looked around and saw... rain. He sighed silently and the girl began to chuckle with delight. She then gave a pitying sound.
"Sorry, puke? Were you looking for this?"
He turned around suddenly and saw... a head. His eyes were wide for the first time in a long while, and it was something he found particularly unammusing. That head... that face. He dropped it as reflex had forced him to catch it. He began to hear that monotone sound that caught him, that scream. He hated it, loathed it... feared it. He almost begged to the girl.
"Wh-what are...?"
But she was gone. All that was left were bodies. All the same. Corpses everywhere around. Nothing could be seen, but flesh, all eyes turned to him. He... he had to get away. His mind began to ache and claw at him.
"Damn it! Damn it!"
They spoke in unison, all voices in ironic caring, mocking him with that sound he remembered... her sound.
"I love you Robert... please get away."
He looked around fearfully, and in his mind the situation just worsened. He began to doubt himself, hate himself. Regret. Anger. Pain. It was... so bad.
"We love you Robert... stay away."
"I... I..."
And suddenly, they all screamed in that monotone, high-pitched roar. He clutched his ears and he... cried?
"I... I didn't do it! It wasn't me..."
"Don't lie, Robert! It's bad for you!"
The memories all came flooding back, and he shut his eyes. Sweat dripped from his head, mixed with rain. He fell to his knees, and let his forehead hit the ground with a thud.
"Rob-"
"SHUT UP!!!"
...light. The light of dawn? No, afternoon. What? That didn't add up. It had become late, but not that late. Robert looked up to see the light of mid-day catch his eyes. He heard light gasps all around, and his hazy vision came to. He looked up and saw a face. Was it hers? His caretaker. Mother? No, a man?
"Uh!"
Robert suddenly leaped up, pushing the man away and turning himself, stance like that of a frightened cat. Confusion, probably, more than fear. He heard a soothing voice, rising from the ground. It was the man whom was actually a bit scrawny. The one Robert had pushed away.
"Easy, now? Do you know what's ha-"
The crowds suddenly parted as if being pushed by giant, invisible hand. A slash in the ground began to part the concrete before it stopped in-front of Robert's face. A sword suddenly thrust out and pushed against his throat. The other man began to protest.
"Hey! This is no place for tha-"
The concrete suddenly burst open and a man in a loose blue uniform seemed to almost teleport out. The uniform said it all: he was what one may call a "police-man" of Babylos. Essentially, if the tracers were the CIA, these guys were the FBI. He spoke in harsh words, face unseen by Robert.
"This boy will be taken in for disturbing the peace. Need I remind you of my status?"
Robert now noted the sword in his hand, and further ventured a guess as to that not having regular properties. His eyes had somewhat calmed down by now, though panic presented in heavy breaths.
(OOC: I heavily invite anyone to join this thread. I depict a lot of change for Robert in many ways, and if this so intrigues you, then by all means come in and enjoy. My welcome extends to all!)
