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rainbowfic2013-08-28 08:35 pm
shadowsong26) wrote in rainbowfic2013-08-28 08:35 pm
Caput Mortuum #9, Byzantium #10, Bittersweet #2
Name: shadowsong26
Story: Checking In
'Verse: Lux
Colors: Caput Mortuum #9. Advanced Decay, Byzantium #10. It is crueller to be always afraid of dying than to die., Bittersweet #2. memories
Supplies and Materials: bichromatic, acrylic, watercolors, oils, stain, pastels (my current gen + romance card N5 "history"), glitter
Word Count: 520
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Mariko, Simon
Warnings: Amnesia, references to Lux setting Mariko on fire, references to medical experimentation
Notes: Constructive criticism welcome, as always.
“Mr. Gilboa?”
He looked up at her, and Mariko smiled. “I wanted to see how you were doing.”
He pushed himself up. “I’m all right. I…didn’t expect you to come see me.” He looked away, but not before she caught a glimpse of the new shadows in his eyes.
“Do you…” she started, then hesitated. On a gamble, she switched to archaic English—Dr. Lobell didn’t speak it, nor did anyone else, to her knowledge, in the Red Sky compound. “Do you remember anything?”
He jerked a little, and stared up at her, clearly understanding. For a fleeting moment, she thought he looked familiar, but she couldn’t place him. “No,” he finally answered in the same language. “No, not yet. The doctor is creative, though. He’ll figure something out.” He shivered a little.
“May I?” Mariko asked, indicating the seat next to him. He shrugged, and she joined him.
“It’s not…” Gilboa started, then stopped. “He’ll figure something out,” he repeated.
“If he’s hurting you, though…”
Gilboa shrugged. “Not…not for the sake of hurting me. Setting a broken leg hurts, too, but it’s worth it in the end.”
“…is this?” she asked. God knows there are things I want to forget, she thought, absently tracing one of her burn scars.
He laughed a little, a brief, bitter thing. “I’m pretty sure it’s an all-or-nothing sort of question,” he said. “I can’t pick and choose what I remember. And…I have to believe at least something is.”
Mariko nodded. “I think I understand.” It did make sense, put in those terms. “It would be nice, though.”
“Hmm?”
“If we could pick and choose.” Though if forgetting meant keeping the physical scars…it was probably worse not knowing.
He gave her a ghost of a smile, and again something about his face tugged at her memory. “It would.”
She stood up. “I have to get back to work, but…if you need anything, have them call me, and I’ll come.” She smiled wryly. “Even if it’s just to practice dead languages. Who knows? We might find the right one, if we keep guessing.”
He nodded, but switched back to modern English. “I will. Thank you, Dr. Anders.”
She nodded. “You’re welcome,” she answered, in the same language, and slipped out, leaving him to his scarred thoughts.
Mariko drifted back through the compound to her office, pensive. She couldn’t quite shake the notion that she’d met him somewhere before. Maybe…maybe it was after the fire. She’d lost a good four or five months, at least, to drugs and pain and healing.
It had been a while since she’d talked to anyone there—barring Lux’s visits, of course, but Lux was not someone she could discuss this with. Maybe it was time to reconnect with some old acquaintances.
She’d promised herself—and Lux—to get Gilboa far away from here, after all. It was as good a place as any to start.
Story: Checking In
'Verse: Lux
Colors: Caput Mortuum #9. Advanced Decay, Byzantium #10. It is crueller to be always afraid of dying than to die., Bittersweet #2. memories
Supplies and Materials: bichromatic, acrylic, watercolors, oils, stain, pastels (my current gen + romance card N5 "history"), glitter
Word Count: 520
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Mariko, Simon
Warnings: Amnesia, references to Lux setting Mariko on fire, references to medical experimentation
Notes: Constructive criticism welcome, as always.
“Mr. Gilboa?”
He looked up at her, and Mariko smiled. “I wanted to see how you were doing.”
He pushed himself up. “I’m all right. I…didn’t expect you to come see me.” He looked away, but not before she caught a glimpse of the new shadows in his eyes.
“Do you…” she started, then hesitated. On a gamble, she switched to archaic English—Dr. Lobell didn’t speak it, nor did anyone else, to her knowledge, in the Red Sky compound. “Do you remember anything?”
He jerked a little, and stared up at her, clearly understanding. For a fleeting moment, she thought he looked familiar, but she couldn’t place him. “No,” he finally answered in the same language. “No, not yet. The doctor is creative, though. He’ll figure something out.” He shivered a little.
“May I?” Mariko asked, indicating the seat next to him. He shrugged, and she joined him.
“It’s not…” Gilboa started, then stopped. “He’ll figure something out,” he repeated.
“If he’s hurting you, though…”
Gilboa shrugged. “Not…not for the sake of hurting me. Setting a broken leg hurts, too, but it’s worth it in the end.”
“…is this?” she asked. God knows there are things I want to forget, she thought, absently tracing one of her burn scars.
He laughed a little, a brief, bitter thing. “I’m pretty sure it’s an all-or-nothing sort of question,” he said. “I can’t pick and choose what I remember. And…I have to believe at least something is.”
Mariko nodded. “I think I understand.” It did make sense, put in those terms. “It would be nice, though.”
“Hmm?”
“If we could pick and choose.” Though if forgetting meant keeping the physical scars…it was probably worse not knowing.
He gave her a ghost of a smile, and again something about his face tugged at her memory. “It would.”
She stood up. “I have to get back to work, but…if you need anything, have them call me, and I’ll come.” She smiled wryly. “Even if it’s just to practice dead languages. Who knows? We might find the right one, if we keep guessing.”
He nodded, but switched back to modern English. “I will. Thank you, Dr. Anders.”
She nodded. “You’re welcome,” she answered, in the same language, and slipped out, leaving him to his scarred thoughts.
Mariko drifted back through the compound to her office, pensive. She couldn’t quite shake the notion that she’d met him somewhere before. Maybe…maybe it was after the fire. She’d lost a good four or five months, at least, to drugs and pain and healing.
It had been a while since she’d talked to anyone there—barring Lux’s visits, of course, but Lux was not someone she could discuss this with. Maybe it was time to reconnect with some old acquaintances.
She’d promised herself—and Lux—to get Gilboa far away from here, after all. It was as good a place as any to start.