Freedom

Freedom

Postby Zorana » Mon Apr 14, 2003 8:03 am

An edit, of OOC: These three posts were roleplayed last night between me, Rance, and Matt. I didn't write this whole mess, I just edited it for your reading pleasure!

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Red. The red of his doublet.. the red of blood. They were similar hues, brilliant crimson. His gleamed in the moonlight, the torches to the small building's entrance catching the gold shot through the crimson brocade, and the gold in his hair. His breeches were sable suede, his boots shined black. His sabre's handle was real gold where most of the guardsmen's were not, and the ribbon that held the tail of honey-gold from his twisted features was the same blood hue as his doublet. His shirt was the softest linen. The door guards said nothing, when they saw him. There was no hesitation in letting him pass. No one even asked him what he was doing there. It was almost as if he'd been expected, all along, and they'd just been waiting for him to have a moment to drop by. He might have smiled, if these were better times. He was cautious as he entered the little house. He felt it better to overestimate, rather than underestimate.

Lieutenant Kilborn had followed him, dressed in his uniform - indigo tunic with a silver stripe down one sleeve and black pants, and a crisp black cloak trailing along behind him. Kilborn paused for a moment at the doorway to share a few words with the guardsmen at the door. It was friendly chatter, favoured with a bit of a smile and a nod. Kilborn turned and stepped inside to flank Taliaferro once more.

There was a candle lit, to augment the ambience of the little edifice. It was a taper that refused to keep the child lonely, that was as close to the bed as the nightstand would allow it to be. There, curled upon the narrow bunk, slept the boy, one of Myrken's most controversial celebrities, given the recent week. .. Moonlight spilled across the floorboards, crept down in between and disappeared. Shadows danced like jesters on the far wall, projected by faint, orange candlelight, and swallowed up by their brethern shadows should they near the far corners. At the click of the lock, the squeal of the door, the little boy murmured. A slender, tapered hand nudged pointlessly in the air before it fell back to grasp the pillow beside his cheek.

For a moment, Rayin's scars rested in shadow, and he looked... Like a prince. It lasted all of five seconds, those seconds before he stepped into the glow of the single candle. His footsteps were audible, a testament to the fact that he had not come to sneak up upon the sleeping child. He watched the child sleep, for a few moments, and finally, quietly said, "Phlynn.."

The boy's weary head was lifted from the pillows, where they'd been mashed against the wall by what, more than likely, had been the boy's curled hands. .. A single sapphire eye stared over the shoulder-folds of his nightgown, peered sleepily towards Rayin's silhouette - made black by the moonlight spilling in from outside. .. "Wh-.. what?" The child inquired, nuzzling at his eyes with the bulge of a deformed knuckle. .. It was after that moment of confusion that he gasped, and sat up straight, pinning his spine against the wall. .. Crouched there on the bed, he fearfully looked towards the man. He had no idea who he was - perhaps, even, it was someone sent by Fury? .. Frantic eyes looked to the candle. Splendid. It was still lit. A sharp digit went to adjust his spectacles.

"I just wanted to speak with you," Rayin replied. His voice was quiet, even kind. There was no malice in it, although his shadow looked quite malicious. Candlelight caught the scars that twisted his features. He felt like a giant, in this small room, towering over the little boy. He set his jaw.

"My name is Rayin Taliaferro." Gareth. Gareth.. "Gareth Rayin Taliaferro," he corrected himself, after a moment. He had no idea if the boy would recognize his name. It didn't matter. He looked, carefully, at the boy's face... And for once, he did not avoid the eyes of the other.

Kilborn coughed lightly, for a moment, and muttered under his breath to Taliaferro, before he stepped off behind them once again. It was somewhat less than a minute, before he returned. The solitary candle was soon blessed with a number of companions as the Lieutenant busied himself with finding places for half a dozen more candles, and silently listening.

"Y-.. you're not going to hurt me, are you?" ..It was an honest question, one whispered by a boy's unsure voice. .. The lump in his throat rose, but neglected to fall, holding in a breath until he was certain it was safe to exhale. In contradiction to the child's frightful elation, there was calmness in the air of the room, carried about by the sweet scent of vanilla as it was burned from the stalks of the tapers. "F-.. Fury-of-the-Winds--" Oh, it was a name to loathe, one that sent winter down his spine. "--didn't.. send you, did he?" The lump finally fell.

"No," Rayin answered, easily. He glanced at Kilborn, and nodded. "Thank you, Lieutenant." His eyes adjusted to the greater light, and soon both he and the boy no longer cast in such eerie shadows. It did not make his face any more appealing. But his eyes, wet earth brown, were warm. He smiled faintly, one corner of his lips tugging upwards. "I don't know who Fury-of-the-Winds is. But I can guess." Phuri. Fury. He almost laughed. "No one sent me. I came of my own accord, to ask you questions that a dozen people must have asked you already. I am sorry to have woken you." He apologized as if he were speaking to an equal, rather than a child. He breathed, but not deeply. He tried to keep the cloying scent of vanilla from his nostrils.

"Nor am I to hurt you lad," Kilborn chimed in with a bit of a smile. His eyes turned over to gaze at the child for a moment, but eventually he moved to lean against the doorway, keeping it open after his foray with the candles, and a minor eye out on the rest of the room. A guardsman, doing his duty.. And yet, that open doorway was a flagrant invitation.

The boy let out a breath. .. So easily swayed, yet still conspicuous. Blankets were wrinkled under the vicegrip of his toes, and with his knees drawn to his chest, he placed his elbows across them, watching the two of them from his station on the bed. "I'm not going to tell you where the faeries are at," The boy said, in answer to one of the questions he assumed he would have been asked, and he did so with a stern, unaccomodating stare.

From over Taliaferro's shoulder, a pair of emerald eyes were watching the boy. They were disembodied, but he could *feel* their smile tickling at him, running its hands up his arms. "You'll.. tell them one of these days," She whispered. The boy flinched, turning his eyes away. "Th-.. they're my friends. .. I protect them."

"I don't want to know," Rayin answered, quietly, "Where the faeries are." Of course, whether or not Rayin believed in faeries was debatable. He did sound quite solemn, however - as if he trusted Phlynn enough not to need the location of the faeries to believe that the faeries were real. "I just want you to tell me what happened. That's all." He crossed his arms, calmly, over his chest, and gazed down at the boy while he waited for the story. ...And for the visions that had not come. He found it interesting that his sight had not leapt to life at the merest glimpse of the boy. Phlynn was obviously troubled. Trouble usually -wanted- to share itself. Perhaps, for once, Fate was sparing him. He prayed that it would continue.

Another relived sigh. ..The child offered a slightly stiff nod. Snaking his arm around the dribbling taper, he extracted a small, withered flower from the basket of blossoms on the simple bedside table and offered it forward towards Taliaferro. Over the meager, sad looking flower, the child began to whisper. "There.. were two boys. And they forced my faerie friend to make him flowers. ..But Jaeval, he's ..he was my faery friend, was barely older than a baby, so he didn't know. ..So when they made him make flowers, th-.." He paused, looking at the candleflame, as though it was more fuel for his words. "They.. stabbed him with a knife. And they laughed about it when they kept jabbing him over and over." ..Hands were lowered to rest in the lap of his nightshirt. ..Were those the hands that had done the rumored deed? ..Those were hands covered in blood. They left streaks of the old, clotting stuff along the kness of his nightgown. "B-.. but I was supposed to protect the faeries. And I ran and I .. ran, and I kept running, but I didn't get there until after. ..And then?" He watched Taliaferro, as if searching for answers in the man's eyes. "They tried to take my flowers. They didn't deserve my flowers. So I.. hurt them." He could still remembered how it felt to sink his knifelike fingers through the spine of the one child, until they burst messily out of his chest. ..The boy had no time to scream. He shrugged slightly round shoulders. "That's.. what they get."
Did you ever wonder what happens when there's dirt on the "Bat Signal?" It wouldn't even look like a bat anymore. Maybe they'd accidentally summon a superhero named "Misshapen Blob Man." I bet he weighs 900 lbs. and comes in the "Misshapen Blobmobile." And the cops go, "Aaah! Clean the lens!" And his theme could be the Batman song at about 10 R.P.M.

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Part Deux

Postby Zorana » Mon Apr 14, 2003 8:06 am

Kilborn shifted his eyes towards Taliaferro at the conclusion of the boy's tale. It was an interesting telling, to say the least. The only thing that troubled him at all was the lack of remorse the boy had for the death of two others, even if they had deserved it. It wasn't his call fortunately, but he didn't doubt on Taliferro's ability to come to a decision upon it either. He kept his eyes on his superior, suggestive that he might have a comment.

He raised his eyebrows slowly, twisting scars on the right side of his face. If only the boy had seemed -sorry-, even a little bit... He shook his head. "Did they try to hurt -you-?" he asked, out of curiousity. Self-defense was always a better reason for murder than defense of flowers, or revenge. Protection of the faery even could have been, but the faery had been dead when Phlynn arrived. He frowned slightly. Little flecks of gold grew, and faded, and grew again in his eyes. But they did not stay. He glanced at Kilborn, and his expression was quite obviously troubled.

"N-.. no. .. They knew better," The boy whispered glancing away, peering towards the basket of withered blooms. "But.. only my Mother and I should know where the faeries are. They would've hurt the other faeries. ..I had to keep protecting them, even if I failed for Jaeval, didn't I?" ..Quiet eyes closed then, were clenched shut, hiding themselves from the candlelight. Alli was squirming, screaming, wrenching through fits of laughter and tears combined. ..Her nightgown was oddly stained near the chest and shoulders, faded from white linen to dried jade. Her eyes were sunken, as pale as her face. ..She reached out to him, fingers flexing. "Come.. home, Baby. Come *here*!" Phlynn was staring at Taliaferro again, a breath caught in his chest.

"Captain," Kilborn murmered softly, shifting in closer, so that he might keep Phlynn from hearing. He glanced, uncertainly, at the staring boy, as he dropped his voice and began to speak. "I don't think the lad did it. Not himself. But something forced him. That's the feel I get. Duty, and something more. I think he's not sorry, because he didn't have a choice about it. I might not be right, but that's what I think." Those words were muttered, close to Taliaferro's ears, before he stepped back once again. "It ain't much, but I think he's a scapegoat in this, and there's something that feels wrong about that. Maybe it's just me."

Rayin reached out, slowly, as the boy spoke, for the flower. He curled his large, gloved hand around the drooping blossom and quietly continued. "Would you tell me about the faeries? Not where they are. Just about them. What are they like? How did you meet them? Why do you protect them?" He hoped that talking about faeries would soothe the boy... and give him time to think. He was troubled. This -boy- was troubled. And dangerous. But he had not killed out of heartlessness... Rayin's eyes gleamed, and he frowned as he listened to Kilborn. He carefully raised one brow. "Perhaps.." he acknowledged, in a faint voice, only meant for Kilborn's ears. He considered Kilborns words, looking down at the flower, and for a moment, away from the boy.

"D-.. do you promise not to tell anyone?.." The child sighed, and let his shoulders lower. Eyes reflected defeat - but why, out of anyone, was he entrusting this man, who he'd only met moments ago, with this? ..Perhaps he was tired of being here. Perhaps, he desired to see his Mother, no matter the cost.

"I do," he said, easily. And he sounded... honest? Rayin, after all, was a keeper of secrets. So many secrets, his own and the thousands of secrets he had seen. He lifted his eyes from the flower, and returned them to the boy. They had darkened, wet earth brown again. "I would never endanger faeries." He sounded very sincere. He would never endanger anything innocent, and it was written all over his scarred face.

The boy pressed his forehead into porcelain arms, and with his toes wriggling against the woolen blankets, he began to whisper. "M-.. Momma's sort of like a faery. And they're her family. ..And they're my friends, but people like to hurt them. ..And some people are scared of me, so I want to protect them." ..The words were exact, flawed with not even a stutter. ..He dared to peer at Taliaferro, over the folds of his wrists. ".. Better I get hurt than Ferore, and Pherdoan, and all the other faeries. They're my *friends*." But he did not divulge words that were sanctioned in his heart. Words about how he felt alone, in Naria - about how, if the stars and moon and lands were his, he would give them all up. Just to be one of them..

"People like to hurt anything that seems weaker than them," Rayin murmered, in a hollow voice. It was a fact of life that, for all his honor, he could never deny. He crouched, next to the bed that the boy curled upon, and draped his arms over his knees, candlelight catching the elegant gold filligree in the crimson brocade of his doublet. Although neither would ever say it, they held a certain rapport... He was alone among the nobles that blood had made him one of.. And oh, how he would give the world to be a peasant again.

"I want you to understand something, Phlynn. Wanting to protect your faerie friends is not a bad thing. But -you- should never be the one to kill someone else. The guardsmen are not monsters, and you are obviously capable. If you ever catch someone hurting a faerie again.. Bring them here, instead of punishing them yourself." Kilborn's words gnawed at his mind, and he wondered what could have forced Phlynn to kill the others.

"It's late, perhaps it is best I put a kettle on," Kilborn interjected. He'd listened to the bulk of the tale already, and had remained surprisingly stoic. He had his thoughts on the matter, and he was regarding Taliaferro with some speculativeness. A nod to each of them and he paused, waiting for Taliaferro to confirm his request.

"Please do," Rayin said, in a more conversational voice, to Kilborn. He hated feeling like the leader here. He didn't know the answer to this problem. It hadn't come to him in his many-colored visions, behind golden eyes. He was left to his own reasoning.. and he felt, ironically, uncomfortable deciding with such vague images. That discomfort made him long to glower at nothing in particular.

Kilborn did not take long. He disappeared out the door, and nothing more than a soft sound of tinkering and a brief murmur of words at a distance implied that he did anything involving tea. He took his place at the door again in little more than moments. "Zill will call us when the tea is ready," he stated, as he settled into place. The door still hung, open. Tempting.

"B-.. But, I *can't*," The child insisted, shaking his head softly. .."I don't live here. ..I live far away. ..People don't understand the faeries there. Even th.. the guards would want to hurt them." ..Was the boy being serious? ..Out of what kind of land did the child hail? ..He kept his face buried against his fragile arms, gently rocking himself, spilling his reasons to this man he'd only known for ten minutes. ".. Do you want to know another secret?" The boy asked, pausing in his soothing sway, chewing upon his bottom lip while he waited for Taliaferro's predictable response.

"Not the faeries," Rayin specified. "The people who wanted to hurt the faeries. Like the boys, that you killed. Instead of killing them.. Bring them here." It wasn't hard to follow that logic - that the offenders would be locked away, and tried themselves, and unable to kill faeries any longer. He rubbed his jaw, fingertips tracing the scars that molded his skin, and nodded to Kilborn. "I suspect the boy doesn't drink tea." He didn't say why, but most people knew the truth of it now.

He fell silent for a moment, thinking. What was he doing -here-, then, if he was from such a strange land, far away? He filed that question away. "Yes, I do."

"Those boys deserved what I did to them," the boy said, quietly, before he unfurled his legs, and leaned closer in to Taliaferro, so that he could whisper boyish words into the man's ear. The child's breath was cold and crisp, as though it had been gushed from the very grave itself. "..I've.. hurt people before, but I hate hurting people. Naria is a terrible place, but it's my home. ..If I say that my Mother and I have good hearts, then what does ..does that say about the other people who live there?" ..It was a question of true concern, but only the child knew of its value of truth. .."What.. would *you* do, if your friends were stabbed by someone? I don't mean.. what's the right thing to do. I mean, what would *you* do?"

The boy's first question, and the response he might have given were lost when Phlynn asked him what he would do... "My brother was stabbed by someone," he said, quietly. "In front of my eyes. I tried to stop her, and could not. I cried." His face was very still. "And then I had his murderer arrested. And then I asked the council for her freedom." He turned his head, slowly to meet the boy's eyes. He did not expect to see anything, now. "I do not know what your Naria is like, Phlynn. But death, and pain, are never the solution. They killed your friend. You killed them. Does that make you better than they were?" His eyes were kind.. and so sad. So sad. He sighed. "Do you want to go home, Phlynn?"
Did you ever wonder what happens when there's dirt on the "Bat Signal?" It wouldn't even look like a bat anymore. Maybe they'd accidentally summon a superhero named "Misshapen Blob Man." I bet he weighs 900 lbs. and comes in the "Misshapen Blobmobile." And the cops go, "Aaah! Clean the lens!" And his theme could be the Batman song at about 10 R.P.M.

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Part Trois

Postby Zorana » Mon Apr 14, 2003 8:08 am

"I.. never said I was better," the boy distinctly responded, before leaning aside and pressing his cheek into the crumpled pillows of his new bed. Feet scraped along the mattress until they found the lips of the blankets, and he lifted these over himself, clutched them to his round chin with the tapered ends of flesh-carved talons. "I.. miss my Momma. ..I want to go home more than anything."

"I can say, that I am glad my father died peacefully in his sleep." Kilborn interjected, without a trace of humor in his voice. He'd listened to both of them, and it didn't feel right. There was a lot around here that didn't feel right. His eyes roamed over the pair of them once again, before he straightened up a little bit once more. "I will get started on the paperwork. By morning it will be official."

"You did not," Rayin acknowledged, quietly, ignoring Kilborn for a moment. "Fate may have made you fit for killing," he said, gesturing to the talons that passed for Phlynn's fingers, "But it does not give you the right to decide who lives or dies." He stood slowly, and flexed his shoulders. He had to give that.. last.. piece of... advice, although he was often uncertain what qualified -him- to share wisdom.

He glanced at Kilborn, finally, and smiled briefly. "May my father die peacefully, as well..." he whispered, silently, in prayer. If his father were to die, let it be peaceful, at least. "Thank you, Lieutenant."

The curiosity of a child was forever alive, no matter the situation. Slender claws tightened the collar of the blankets around him. "..What papers are you t-.. talking about?"

"For your freedom," he said, carefully. It was... not an easy decision. It sat heavily beneath his heart, weighing there. He teetered towards rescinding it, but did not. "I assume you have no objections..?"

The concept caught him in the heart. Caught him there, and twisted the offending stake, until he bled upon his own hands, it almost felt like. ...How he *ached* to return home, but nothing would be solved in that case. The child shook his head. "I.. want a trial," He whispered, watching Taliaferro without letting his eyes venture elsewhere. "I .. don't like being here, but I want a trial, first."

"You just had a trial Phlynn," Kilborn said with a small smile. "Captain Rayin Taliaferro interrogated you and decided, as is his duty. I stood as witness to the events. I recommend, unofficially, releasing him now. If we wait until morning for the official documents, I fear his condition may make travel unwise," he concluded.

"Do.. I get to come back here, when I want to?" The question was not one that he wanted to ask, but he had to know. There were friends, in this place, and ones he would despise needing to part with. ..His slender hands clamped at the pillow.

Rayin bowed slightly. "A pardon is just as official as a trial, Phlynn. You will drown in the waves of political corruption, should you wish for the trial. You are just a boy..." Not a normal boy, but... He gestured slightly, with one hand, as if waving something away. "Yes. Yes, you would." He paused, then added, with a ghost of a smile, "I am under the distinct impression that my housekeeper would welcome a visit." He did not say who his housekeeper was...

He stepped away from the bed, and turned to Kilborn, and nodded. "I will draw them up, and post them, before I leave tomorrow." He glanced to the boy. Being freed and not wanting to be would make it a little odd...

The child sat upwards then, to look at Taliaferro.. not in contempt, but rather, in confusion. "B-.. But, what about Alexi? What of what *she* did? ..Without my punishment - and without hers - what's going to have been accomplished?" The idea of the pardoning seemed peculiarly strange to the child. ..His reputation had been ruined, harmed, and were he to not show his face with a public hearing, he doubted he'd go a night without be being 'punished' by those who assumed he was evil. ..But who ever said those people had been wrong?

"A warrant, Phlynn. For her arrest. Duvall and Kilborn will have them by morning." He did not say that she would be gaoled, tried, and hung. Certainly not. At the very least, she would be arrested and brought in for questioning.

Rayin straightened his shoulders, and said, in a quiet and somehow official voice, "I find you guilty of involuntary manslaughter. You've been punished enough, for my conscience." That wasn't exactly true, but who could give a child... even an ancient child... lashes or the stocks? He was afraid that the morning sun would kill the boy.

"You are not the only one with complaints against Lady Alexi Rose, lad. Others have brought them to us, and we have need to question her, now," Kilborn added, to support Taliaferro's decision. There was a great deal in this region that just felt wrong. That sense returned once again.

"S-.. so, that's it, then?" The boy slowly rose from where he had been laying, to gather his basket of flowers, and place it in his lap. ..He seemed terribly disappointed, but he wouldn't take what he had been given for granted, either. "Then I just.. leave, and we .. forget about things?" It was a disatisfying ending - a week, spent in filth and squalor, with nothing to have changed?

"For you, at least for now. Try not to get into too much more trouble lad." Kilborn shifted slightly towards the doorway. A female guard, likely Zill, paused at the doorway, and spoke with the Lieutenant. Kilborn nodded and glanced towards Taliaferro before he continued speaking to Phlynn. "You played a pivotal role in bringing a good number of things to our attention. We aren't going to forget. We aren't just going to let everything else lie. We are the Order of Straka. We are here to bring order and Justice. You've helped us in your own way."

"That's it... is, perhaps, an understatement. It is... the end, for the moment. The end of one small part of this story." Rayin shook his head. "I do not think there will be any forgetting, Phlynn. The pardon, even, is less of a declaration of innocence... and more, one of minor guilt. If you were convicted of murder, you would die. Just like the boys, and the faerie. Only more death, which would not change anything, either." He smiled, a faint, and warm smile. "Perhaps you can testify, if miss Rose goes to trial," he offered, mildly.

"Perhaps," the child reasoned, gathering his very few belongings from the floor about the bed - the feathers, the paper-folded dragon. ..These were placed in the basket as a gnarled hand brushed down the front of his nightgown, and he looked to them for a moment. He shook his head. ".. But sh.. she doesn't have anything to prove. I do." To himself? To the faeries? To those whose doubt had gone unanswered, most likely. ..The child's innocence had been soiled, and a 'pardoning' did nothing to free him of those assumptions. ..Steps towards the door were taken, glanced backwards only once so he could look towards Taliaferro and the man who accompanied him. "..A whole week wasted, trying to make people understand. Now, we're right back at the beginning." He nudged the door with his shoulder, and stepped out into the moonlight. The boy didn't turn his face up towards it. Not then.

Kilborn watched as the boy gathered up his belongings. He noted the folded paper dragon, in mild curiousity, and wondered immediately how it was done. "Everyone has something to prove. I wouldn't hold this job, if I couldn't prove regularly, I could keep it. You'll do fine Phlynn. If you ever need a helping hand, just ask."

Rayin stepped forward, following the boy to the doorway. The guards standing there stepped respectfully to the side. He paused, a vision of nobility in the doorway of that little building, elegant in his soft linen and brocade. "I understand.. enough. Enough, Phlynn, to feel that this is right. You have changed the opinion of the only person, in this moment, who truly matters. Have you not friends, who gave you feathers and flowers and paper dragons? They understand." He stepped away from the door, to allow Kilborn to follow him out, to allow the door to close behind him. "The others.. I cannot say, whether they ever cared if you lived or died. I will give them -my- testimony, Phlynn. It freed one murderer. It will free another. Go home. Your mother is waiting."

"I guess .. we'll find out about the ones who want me dead in a few days, right?" The comment was one of surprising sarcasm, from a mere child. Age did strange, peculiar things to a mind - especially a mind of a child. Without another word, he stepped off in the direction of his home. The travel would take the rest of the evening, and he would return home with nothing - nothing solved, nothing proved, nothing gained. ..Perhaps he sought out a way to justify those gruesome murders to himself, through his intended trial. Maybe he'd wanted to see Alexi make a fool of herself before a committee. Or maybe he'd been waiting for a reason for the secret of the faeries to die along with him. ..But none of that mattered - he'd be home, in his *true* bed, a little past sunrise.
Did you ever wonder what happens when there's dirt on the "Bat Signal?" It wouldn't even look like a bat anymore. Maybe they'd accidentally summon a superhero named "Misshapen Blob Man." I bet he weighs 900 lbs. and comes in the "Misshapen Blobmobile." And the cops go, "Aaah! Clean the lens!" And his theme could be the Batman song at about 10 R.P.M.

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