Post by Lovely on Jul 1, 2009 17:11:20 GMT -5
Sept 10th 2006
1 a.m.
Morte's work-room
An unusual sound rolled out from under the door of Morte's maproom. Music? Deacon was amused and certainly curious as he opened the door to what seemed to be a radio playing from... somewhere. Inside was a starkly grotesque scene he wasn't prepared to see.
Morte was busy dancing a little gig.
Stop gyrating, at least, he seethed to himself, trying to get the image out of his mind a little. He listened to the lyrics and tone, putting the ideas together. "Awww... Death wants to be a grampa? More minions helping him spread his wealth of talent around...?"
"Oh...? hadn't thought of that -but now that you mention it.. heh we know what's on yoooour mind", he sang out, teasing the boy.
"Why else would he be dancing a.... why -are- you dancing?"
"Cause -this- is going to be fun to watch..," he laughed. "Think of what love can do for a man -who doesn't want to admit he's in love.. what lengths he might go to to prove he's not?"
Talking about him? He raised an eyebrow, no longer amused. "What's to prove? If it isn't the case, I don't need to defend it. I'm not, she's not and that's the end of the discussion."
He laughed louder. "She is love you fool... and love is in love... what a wonderous affect that has on her work.. on the world.." He danced around Deacon as the song went on.
He shook his head. "I'm just not seeing what you seem to be. Maybe you dropped me on my head when I was a tot, hm? I'm certainly not normal, not human, not anymore. Care to explain how it is you seem to believe that I'm so affected by her?"
He started to sing along and came back around to pull Deacon into the dance with him... "Won't you come away with me..
and begin something we can't understand
i'm as lonely as the Irish Sea
i'm as willing as the sand
could it be so wrong, so wrong?
could it be so wrong, so wrong?
won't you come unbury me..."
Wine, women and song.. he laughed as his demented fatherly mentor assumed the guise of a lithe human man enjoying some of the things he himself had come to appreciate. He'd admit only that far, but not to the point of preference of one above any other as Morte seemed to think. He took the man's hand and joined him if only to play jester and mock him with a smirk. "Yeeeesssss, it can be so wroooong," he sang in retort. " ...when it isn't true. I'm telling you."
Morte was undaunted as he danced in more merriment than had been seen before.
"its ruinous and true
how this sheltered loveless life
fades into the weakest shade of blue
weakest shade of blue.." He shook his head and spun away from Deacon.
"Ruinous... is what it's going to be if you don't stop. I'm telling you, Morte - I don't suffer those feelings. Weaker than the weakest with me. She's a nice girl and I can't deny that she makes others glow brighter than I've ever seen or brought home... but look here... remember?" He pointed to his own hollow shell. "Nothing to shine, ergo nothing to feel, hm?"
"You have so much to learn.. as I have told you many times." He smiled affectionately as he patted Deacon's cheek and went to move past him. "Remember.. some of the most important lessons are the hardest to learn."
"What -lesson-?!" He took the condescending pat and rolled his eyes, following Morte around the room in a heavy stomp. "She's the one who appeared to me on her own. I didn't call her. Ask Venge - it's probably a joke he's playing, making her follow me with some... message... or some purpose she says she's to fill for me." He stopped and crossed his arms. "Alright.. answer this then. If she's supposed to paint me with some kind of love charm or what-have-you to pull my one-true-and-only-until-de-... until you decide she needs to go... who is she setting me up with? I haven't exactly run into any fawning masses... only prostrate and slightly grey and cold ones."
"You're a fool.. i should get you a little hat with bells." He sighed shaking his head as he regarded the boy from where he leaned at his table. "How is it I could love, how could Venge.. yet you claim to be immune to such things? No being is immune... whether you love yourself, the pain of others, power, or another being.. everything loves something.. you are not above it boy. You think because your soul is not within your body you are absent of emotion.. heck I'd give you your soul back if I thought it would teach you anything.. Stop thinking like a mortal man.. you are not bound to the rules they believe and hold onto.. You can feel love.. and you can feel its absence when it dies. Only you can't keep love in a vial once it's gone.. it's gone and there will be nothing of her left behind but fading memories that she was once there."
Deacon resented the humor both Morte and Venge were finding at his expense. "If I were thinking like a mortal man, I'd have succumbed to that ridiculous idea years ago. Have you considered that maybe it's by choice, not design? I don't -love- her... why is that so hard to understand?"
"Fine... you don't love her.. suit yourself.. there are much worse things than enjoying another being." He folded his arms and just grinned knowingly at Deacon.
His eyes rolled again. "I don't dislike her company. Keifer's become a friend and she doesn't seem to find it necessary to say much more than that beyond that... that.. confused look she gives me when she mentions again that I called her... when I didn't." If he had, he certainly didn't remember it. "Isn't it Winter? Why is it hot in here?"
"I don't pay attention to the seasons very much, until they are well into the next.. it's not hot in here.. you're hot." He chuckled again and shook his head walking over to his table to gaze into the tiny sea of lights.
"You're paying attention to a lot less influential things instead," he said, slipping off the coat he wore to empty the glowing contents he'd forgotten about. "New ones. Here," he said quietly, placing the vials one-by-one for Morte to sort as he wanted.
"Hey, you can be mister 'I'm without a soul and loveless' all you want.. I benefit either way.. Hmm perhaps you're right.. yes.. yes it's much better for you not to be in love.. such havoc to be caused.. You won't mind playing along will you? Helping me conduct the orchestra so to speak?"
Again his eyebrow raised. What card was he playing now? "Alright, go on. Playing along with what? And why is it suddenly better? Not that I disagree, that's what I've been trying to tell you. It would be ruinous."
"Haven't you read Romeo and Juliet? Seen Fatal Attraction? Unrequited, and star crossed love.. mmm the damages that will cause.. you best load up on empty vials.. of course eventually it will kill her, but eh until then... wanna dance with me now?"
"What do you mean?" He laughed, wholly curious and confused. "Kill who? What damages, from what?"
"Damages from her wayward vibes.. she loves you and has focused her energy on you.. you are not accepting.. that essence has to go somewhere. She is unrequited and thus that affect will fade into those she touches with her influence. Love is not cruel, people are.. and love is damaged by cruelty. Love is a beautiful thing, pure and whole.. but man does not always allow love to run freely.. It will kill her to be the cause of such things, each cruel act is like a stinging slap."
He laughed again, but felt strangely uncomfortable. Doubt? Fear? Touched by something strange he couldn't identify, he paced around slowly, now chilled when before he was warm. He slipped his coat back on without a word and stood near the window. After a long moment of staring unblinkingly into the dark beyond it he turned. "But she doesn't. She's a friend, Morte. We talk, we watch, we seem to end up in the same places, but where do you get that she's in love with me? For all that is holy and un, would someone please explain that part to me?"
"oh dear.. you really don't know? You don't see it? I thought you were playing cold.. Why does she come to you? Why does she appear and have dinner with you and talk and watch with you? Why doesn't she show up to sew you together with any assorted lover you could take.. why does she show you what she is openly?"
"I don't judge," he reminded quietly, though sharply, the ice in his eyes staring out unfalteringly. "Why shouldn't she? I'm not human to pander and play and connive as a mortal man would to snatch up any chunk of erstwhile flesh that might amuse and comfort me. Comfort," he chuckled and ran his cool hand over his face, looking at his palm and running his thumb over his fingers, watching the movement. "Comfort is born of desire to be someplace where one is not or from fear of losing what one has. What happens when I've never experienced either?"
"You learn.. you reach out, you experience what you have been missing. An immortal life stretches endlessly and when you never sway from your routine it becomes tedious and boring. We may have our purposes to the place we hold but that does not mean we must stand like statues watching the eons pass without ever reaching out to find what there is to find."
"I'm not standing like a statue, Morte," he defended with an awkward chuckle, motioning to the vials and activities he was quite animated in partaking in. "I dance, sing, laugh, even shed a tear at times believe it or not, I -do- feel, but I'm not attached in that way. Or I hadn't been, but you seem to think that by my not being, when I wasn't to start with, I will cause utter calamity and destruction? Isn't that just a slightly tall order to place on my humble shoulders, don'tcha think?"
"Yes, but it's FUN!" He chuckled and turned from his table again to regard the boy with a curious gleam in his eyes. "Fine.. don't feel it.. don't be in love.. just leave me be while I revel in calamity and destruction."
"I can't believe this," he sighed, running his outstretched hand back through his hair before leaning his elbow beside the window to again look out. His hand fiddled at the awkward tickle on his neck as he thought about all of it. "Geeez... Yes, revel in your calamity, but it's not me that's to blame for it. Play your sick games. I've got work to do," he huffed, turning suddenly to take a load of empty vials and go about his busines. "I'm not the fool, but you're reveling in making me one. I'll be back later."
Morte was chuckling and shaking his head, he turned as he watched Deacon head for the door. "Well alright.. but at least have some fun while you're out there will you.. you're too d**n serious. and take into consideration who is telling you this."
Deacon heard him, but what else could he say? He gave Morte another icy glance, short and nearly sweet with a forced smile. "Considered. Have a nice night with your masses." Yes, he could feel, feel the bile and contempt rising as he moved quickly out of the room.
1 a.m.
Morte's work-room
An unusual sound rolled out from under the door of Morte's maproom. Music? Deacon was amused and certainly curious as he opened the door to what seemed to be a radio playing from... somewhere. Inside was a starkly grotesque scene he wasn't prepared to see.
Morte was busy dancing a little gig.
Stop gyrating, at least, he seethed to himself, trying to get the image out of his mind a little. He listened to the lyrics and tone, putting the ideas together. "Awww... Death wants to be a grampa? More minions helping him spread his wealth of talent around...?"
"Oh...? hadn't thought of that -but now that you mention it.. heh we know what's on yoooour mind", he sang out, teasing the boy.
"Why else would he be dancing a.... why -are- you dancing?"
"Cause -this- is going to be fun to watch..," he laughed. "Think of what love can do for a man -who doesn't want to admit he's in love.. what lengths he might go to to prove he's not?"
Talking about him? He raised an eyebrow, no longer amused. "What's to prove? If it isn't the case, I don't need to defend it. I'm not, she's not and that's the end of the discussion."
He laughed louder. "She is love you fool... and love is in love... what a wonderous affect that has on her work.. on the world.." He danced around Deacon as the song went on.
He shook his head. "I'm just not seeing what you seem to be. Maybe you dropped me on my head when I was a tot, hm? I'm certainly not normal, not human, not anymore. Care to explain how it is you seem to believe that I'm so affected by her?"
He started to sing along and came back around to pull Deacon into the dance with him... "Won't you come away with me..
and begin something we can't understand
i'm as lonely as the Irish Sea
i'm as willing as the sand
could it be so wrong, so wrong?
could it be so wrong, so wrong?
won't you come unbury me..."
Wine, women and song.. he laughed as his demented fatherly mentor assumed the guise of a lithe human man enjoying some of the things he himself had come to appreciate. He'd admit only that far, but not to the point of preference of one above any other as Morte seemed to think. He took the man's hand and joined him if only to play jester and mock him with a smirk. "Yeeeesssss, it can be so wroooong," he sang in retort. " ...when it isn't true. I'm telling you."
Morte was undaunted as he danced in more merriment than had been seen before.
"its ruinous and true
how this sheltered loveless life
fades into the weakest shade of blue
weakest shade of blue.." He shook his head and spun away from Deacon.
"Ruinous... is what it's going to be if you don't stop. I'm telling you, Morte - I don't suffer those feelings. Weaker than the weakest with me. She's a nice girl and I can't deny that she makes others glow brighter than I've ever seen or brought home... but look here... remember?" He pointed to his own hollow shell. "Nothing to shine, ergo nothing to feel, hm?"
"You have so much to learn.. as I have told you many times." He smiled affectionately as he patted Deacon's cheek and went to move past him. "Remember.. some of the most important lessons are the hardest to learn."
"What -lesson-?!" He took the condescending pat and rolled his eyes, following Morte around the room in a heavy stomp. "She's the one who appeared to me on her own. I didn't call her. Ask Venge - it's probably a joke he's playing, making her follow me with some... message... or some purpose she says she's to fill for me." He stopped and crossed his arms. "Alright.. answer this then. If she's supposed to paint me with some kind of love charm or what-have-you to pull my one-true-and-only-until-de-... until you decide she needs to go... who is she setting me up with? I haven't exactly run into any fawning masses... only prostrate and slightly grey and cold ones."
"You're a fool.. i should get you a little hat with bells." He sighed shaking his head as he regarded the boy from where he leaned at his table. "How is it I could love, how could Venge.. yet you claim to be immune to such things? No being is immune... whether you love yourself, the pain of others, power, or another being.. everything loves something.. you are not above it boy. You think because your soul is not within your body you are absent of emotion.. heck I'd give you your soul back if I thought it would teach you anything.. Stop thinking like a mortal man.. you are not bound to the rules they believe and hold onto.. You can feel love.. and you can feel its absence when it dies. Only you can't keep love in a vial once it's gone.. it's gone and there will be nothing of her left behind but fading memories that she was once there."
Deacon resented the humor both Morte and Venge were finding at his expense. "If I were thinking like a mortal man, I'd have succumbed to that ridiculous idea years ago. Have you considered that maybe it's by choice, not design? I don't -love- her... why is that so hard to understand?"
"Fine... you don't love her.. suit yourself.. there are much worse things than enjoying another being." He folded his arms and just grinned knowingly at Deacon.
His eyes rolled again. "I don't dislike her company. Keifer's become a friend and she doesn't seem to find it necessary to say much more than that beyond that... that.. confused look she gives me when she mentions again that I called her... when I didn't." If he had, he certainly didn't remember it. "Isn't it Winter? Why is it hot in here?"
"I don't pay attention to the seasons very much, until they are well into the next.. it's not hot in here.. you're hot." He chuckled again and shook his head walking over to his table to gaze into the tiny sea of lights.
"You're paying attention to a lot less influential things instead," he said, slipping off the coat he wore to empty the glowing contents he'd forgotten about. "New ones. Here," he said quietly, placing the vials one-by-one for Morte to sort as he wanted.
"Hey, you can be mister 'I'm without a soul and loveless' all you want.. I benefit either way.. Hmm perhaps you're right.. yes.. yes it's much better for you not to be in love.. such havoc to be caused.. You won't mind playing along will you? Helping me conduct the orchestra so to speak?"
Again his eyebrow raised. What card was he playing now? "Alright, go on. Playing along with what? And why is it suddenly better? Not that I disagree, that's what I've been trying to tell you. It would be ruinous."
"Haven't you read Romeo and Juliet? Seen Fatal Attraction? Unrequited, and star crossed love.. mmm the damages that will cause.. you best load up on empty vials.. of course eventually it will kill her, but eh until then... wanna dance with me now?"
"What do you mean?" He laughed, wholly curious and confused. "Kill who? What damages, from what?"
"Damages from her wayward vibes.. she loves you and has focused her energy on you.. you are not accepting.. that essence has to go somewhere. She is unrequited and thus that affect will fade into those she touches with her influence. Love is not cruel, people are.. and love is damaged by cruelty. Love is a beautiful thing, pure and whole.. but man does not always allow love to run freely.. It will kill her to be the cause of such things, each cruel act is like a stinging slap."
He laughed again, but felt strangely uncomfortable. Doubt? Fear? Touched by something strange he couldn't identify, he paced around slowly, now chilled when before he was warm. He slipped his coat back on without a word and stood near the window. After a long moment of staring unblinkingly into the dark beyond it he turned. "But she doesn't. She's a friend, Morte. We talk, we watch, we seem to end up in the same places, but where do you get that she's in love with me? For all that is holy and un, would someone please explain that part to me?"
"oh dear.. you really don't know? You don't see it? I thought you were playing cold.. Why does she come to you? Why does she appear and have dinner with you and talk and watch with you? Why doesn't she show up to sew you together with any assorted lover you could take.. why does she show you what she is openly?"
"I don't judge," he reminded quietly, though sharply, the ice in his eyes staring out unfalteringly. "Why shouldn't she? I'm not human to pander and play and connive as a mortal man would to snatch up any chunk of erstwhile flesh that might amuse and comfort me. Comfort," he chuckled and ran his cool hand over his face, looking at his palm and running his thumb over his fingers, watching the movement. "Comfort is born of desire to be someplace where one is not or from fear of losing what one has. What happens when I've never experienced either?"
"You learn.. you reach out, you experience what you have been missing. An immortal life stretches endlessly and when you never sway from your routine it becomes tedious and boring. We may have our purposes to the place we hold but that does not mean we must stand like statues watching the eons pass without ever reaching out to find what there is to find."
"I'm not standing like a statue, Morte," he defended with an awkward chuckle, motioning to the vials and activities he was quite animated in partaking in. "I dance, sing, laugh, even shed a tear at times believe it or not, I -do- feel, but I'm not attached in that way. Or I hadn't been, but you seem to think that by my not being, when I wasn't to start with, I will cause utter calamity and destruction? Isn't that just a slightly tall order to place on my humble shoulders, don'tcha think?"
"Yes, but it's FUN!" He chuckled and turned from his table again to regard the boy with a curious gleam in his eyes. "Fine.. don't feel it.. don't be in love.. just leave me be while I revel in calamity and destruction."
"I can't believe this," he sighed, running his outstretched hand back through his hair before leaning his elbow beside the window to again look out. His hand fiddled at the awkward tickle on his neck as he thought about all of it. "Geeez... Yes, revel in your calamity, but it's not me that's to blame for it. Play your sick games. I've got work to do," he huffed, turning suddenly to take a load of empty vials and go about his busines. "I'm not the fool, but you're reveling in making me one. I'll be back later."
Morte was chuckling and shaking his head, he turned as he watched Deacon head for the door. "Well alright.. but at least have some fun while you're out there will you.. you're too d**n serious. and take into consideration who is telling you this."
Deacon heard him, but what else could he say? He gave Morte another icy glance, short and nearly sweet with a forced smile. "Considered. Have a nice night with your masses." Yes, he could feel, feel the bile and contempt rising as he moved quickly out of the room.