Etude 13: Allegro in Modo Ingannevole
More stuff! So, um, yeah, the description of Armand's faint is based on, well, my most recent experience with fainting. Including the conviction about dying. (That was not a fun experience when it happened...)
In other news, most of this etude has been harvested from the sporadic dream journal I've kept for a while. I stopped near the end because 1) my 15-minute timer had run out again, and 2) because I felt like I'd spent enough words on these scenes and I wanted to move on.
Random note: "Allegro" seems to be my most popular base tempo for the etudes.
He thought he was dreaming, at first. A chaotic storm of colors and shapes flashed through his mind, never forming into a discernible whole. He could hear a thrumming behind his eyes. He realized that he was lying on the floor, and that something was wrong. He was tempted to slip back into the half-dreaming state, but a sudden intuition told him that if he did, he might die. He tried to open his eyes, but he couldn't control his body enough to open them. He couldn't move. He was acutely aware of how his fingers were curled into fists and his feet were wrenched into an unnatural position. He didn't remember falling. There was a dull, muted roar in his ears, like the sea. The colors continued to flash before his eyes, changing too quickly. They were like the snow on a television set, but quicker and clumped into groups. He couldn't open his eyes.
"Armand!" It was Sarah. "What happened to him? I have to go help him! Abenath, I can't just leave him there --"
"Relax," came Abenath's voice, cool and commanding and almost entirely different from his voice just a few moments ago.
"But --"
"You have eaten of the prickle berry... You should be feeling its effects about now."
"What? I... I don't feel so good... I'm dizzy..."
"And I invoke the right of debt. You have eaten my food without payment, and you have nothing to repay me with." Damn it, that was his intention all along... Why can't I move?
"Now sleep." And he heard the thump of a body hitting the floor. Footsteps came his way, the heavy clump of Abenath's boots. "So you were trying to escape, my cunning one. I think you will find it a little more difficult than that." And then he felt a strange powder sprinkled over him, and there was again only blackness.
...
Sarah woke briefly with the feel of water rushing over her. "What?" She tried to move her head, but was stopped by a throbbing headache. Someone ran a hand through her hair and over her face, cool and soothing, and she slipped back into unconsciousness. She didn't notice the sobbing of the chained siren above her in the cave.
Armand was in a building with cream-colored walls. There were stairs leading up and down and around, and long hallways that didn't stop. He knew he had to get out, somehow. He was dressed in his usual clothes, not the clothes that the Seraiel had given him. The Sword of Peace was nowhere nearby. He picked a random direction, and set off again.
Sarah lazed on a raft that floated down a black river. There were others with her, but she didn't feel the need to look at them. One of them was poling the raft along the river. They were making good time. She didn't know where they were going, but it didn't matter.
Out of the corner of his eye, Armand saw flashes of people. They were chasing him. If he didn't escape, they would catch him. He grabbed hold of a banister as he passed it, then swung himself up onto the staircase and clambered up it, taking the steps by twos. He was not yet out of breath, and he was running faster than he'd ever run before.
"It's time to take a break," said a voice beside Sarah. "Sarah, do you want to take over for me?"
Sarah turned to look at the speaker. It was her best friend. "Sure thing. But I don't know where we're going."
"Wherever the river takes us. Don't worry about it."
"Okay."
There were definitely people running after him. He could see them whenever he looked behind, but he couldn't make out anything distinct about them. Just the impression of people. The stairs seemed to go on forever, and all the landings looked the same. Then, as he was about to pass the next landing, he caught the glimpse of a large open hall past it. He turned around and jumped down the last few steps and started to make for the opening. The corridors opened into a huge cavern, with a tower built of what looked like inflatable plastic. There seemed to be bricks and crevices between the bricks, and windows in it. He had the idea that maybe he could hide in there somehow, hide away from the people who were chasing him... He dashed to the tower, and around it so that it was between him and the people. Then he began climbing it.
Along the way, Sarah met an ostrich at one of the landings along the river. It was taller than she was, and its black feathers gleamed in the sunlight. After a moment, her friend convinced it to come on board, where it laid an egg. "Yes! Food!" Exclaimed her friend. She turned to Sarah. "I think it'll lay one for us every day. We won't need to worry about food anymore for the rest of the trip!" She seemed to notice something. "Here, let me do the poling again. You look tired. Why don't you rest some more?" Sarah just nodded and let go of the pole. The raft continued to drift lazily down the river.
Armand managed to find a hole between two of the bricks, and he squeezed into it. The material of the tower was faintly rubbery, and he worried that it might pop at any moment and collapse underneath him. Inside, the tower resembled a huge bouncy castle, except with more floors and windows. It was a tight fit, and he crouched inside, catching his breath. He hoped that the tower wasn't shaking with his panting and giving his position away. After a moment, he crawled to the hole on the opposite side, and peeped out. He could see the people clearly now. At first glance, they looked like normal people, but out of the corner of his eye, their forms morphed and became long, spindly, and bony. It was as if they were strange aliens in disguise. He suddenly knew that they were trying to make him one of them. And damned if I'll let them, he thought to himself. He just had to hope that they would bypass him and allow him to leave the tower.
Somehow, the raft drifted under the surface of the river. Sarah found that she could still breathe normally. There was thick seaweed above, blocking the view of the surface. A strange, ethereal light filtered down through it, its rays broken by the seaweed clumps. The shadows shifted back and forth in a calm, serene swaying motion. There was a row of stores and restaurants at the bottom. Her friend pulled her along, and whispered something about an errand. And then she was alone, facing a small pizza restaurant.
Suddenly, as if a breath of wind had blown them away, the aliens were gone. Armand breathed a sigh of relief, but he waited for a little longer before climbing out of the tower. He could no longer see the corridors that he'd been running through earlier. Now he stood on an open plain, with a gray sky above and flesh-like grass at his feet. There was something familiar about the place, but he couldn't figure out what. A sudden sound made him turn to look behind him, and he saw a mass of the aliens. They were closer than they'd ever been, and he started running again.
Sarah walked into the restaurant. There was a small bar to one side, with a television set suspended over it. It seemed to showing some sort of basketball game. There was one other customer, a blonde-haired man sitting at a table for two. He was reading a newspaper and munching on a slice of pizza. He looked vaguely familiar. Then he raised his head to look at her, and her breath caught in her throat. She recognized his face from movies and television, and from vague dreams in her middle school years. He smiled at her, and beckoned her to sit down with him.
Armand was starting to feel the effects of all the running. His breath caught painfully in his throat, and he had a stitch in his side that refused to go away. He wanted to stop, but he knew he couldn't. The plains had given way to corridors again, this time of plain, unadorned concrete. There were cracks in the walls, and patches where chunks had been ripped off. Some of the aliens seemed to have scattered somehow. At any rate, there seemed to be fewer of them chasing him. He turned a corner and paused for a few tense moments to catch his breath. And then he started running again.
She was back on the raft, and the celebrity she'd recognized had joined them. He seemed charmed by the ostrich. She knew she'd finished her errand, but she couldn't remember what it was. It was so much easier just to drift down the river on the raft, lazing on her back and watching the clouds.
And then there was a crash and a tangle of limbs, and Armand found himself underneath one of the aliens. "No! Get away from me! I don't want to become one of you!" He screamed, but the thing just blinked at him curiously, and then touched his face. He felt his flesh melt away and resculpt itself into some new form, felt the rest of his body rearranging itself. And then the alien was gone, and he was left alone in the endless corridors, sobbing.
The raft turned onto a more violent part
[What I want to happen here: more dream stuff. Armand has to stop fighting and go with the flow. Sarah has to actually fight the dream. Both get out.]
In other news, most of this etude has been harvested from the sporadic dream journal I've kept for a while. I stopped near the end because 1) my 15-minute timer had run out again, and 2) because I felt like I'd spent enough words on these scenes and I wanted to move on.
Random note: "Allegro" seems to be my most popular base tempo for the etudes.
He thought he was dreaming, at first. A chaotic storm of colors and shapes flashed through his mind, never forming into a discernible whole. He could hear a thrumming behind his eyes. He realized that he was lying on the floor, and that something was wrong. He was tempted to slip back into the half-dreaming state, but a sudden intuition told him that if he did, he might die. He tried to open his eyes, but he couldn't control his body enough to open them. He couldn't move. He was acutely aware of how his fingers were curled into fists and his feet were wrenched into an unnatural position. He didn't remember falling. There was a dull, muted roar in his ears, like the sea. The colors continued to flash before his eyes, changing too quickly. They were like the snow on a television set, but quicker and clumped into groups. He couldn't open his eyes.
"Armand!" It was Sarah. "What happened to him? I have to go help him! Abenath, I can't just leave him there --"
"Relax," came Abenath's voice, cool and commanding and almost entirely different from his voice just a few moments ago.
"But --"
"You have eaten of the prickle berry... You should be feeling its effects about now."
"What? I... I don't feel so good... I'm dizzy..."
"And I invoke the right of debt. You have eaten my food without payment, and you have nothing to repay me with." Damn it, that was his intention all along... Why can't I move?
"Now sleep." And he heard the thump of a body hitting the floor. Footsteps came his way, the heavy clump of Abenath's boots. "So you were trying to escape, my cunning one. I think you will find it a little more difficult than that." And then he felt a strange powder sprinkled over him, and there was again only blackness.
...
Sarah woke briefly with the feel of water rushing over her. "What?" She tried to move her head, but was stopped by a throbbing headache. Someone ran a hand through her hair and over her face, cool and soothing, and she slipped back into unconsciousness. She didn't notice the sobbing of the chained siren above her in the cave.
Armand was in a building with cream-colored walls. There were stairs leading up and down and around, and long hallways that didn't stop. He knew he had to get out, somehow. He was dressed in his usual clothes, not the clothes that the Seraiel had given him. The Sword of Peace was nowhere nearby. He picked a random direction, and set off again.
Sarah lazed on a raft that floated down a black river. There were others with her, but she didn't feel the need to look at them. One of them was poling the raft along the river. They were making good time. She didn't know where they were going, but it didn't matter.
Out of the corner of his eye, Armand saw flashes of people. They were chasing him. If he didn't escape, they would catch him. He grabbed hold of a banister as he passed it, then swung himself up onto the staircase and clambered up it, taking the steps by twos. He was not yet out of breath, and he was running faster than he'd ever run before.
"It's time to take a break," said a voice beside Sarah. "Sarah, do you want to take over for me?"
Sarah turned to look at the speaker. It was her best friend. "Sure thing. But I don't know where we're going."
"Wherever the river takes us. Don't worry about it."
"Okay."
There were definitely people running after him. He could see them whenever he looked behind, but he couldn't make out anything distinct about them. Just the impression of people. The stairs seemed to go on forever, and all the landings looked the same. Then, as he was about to pass the next landing, he caught the glimpse of a large open hall past it. He turned around and jumped down the last few steps and started to make for the opening. The corridors opened into a huge cavern, with a tower built of what looked like inflatable plastic. There seemed to be bricks and crevices between the bricks, and windows in it. He had the idea that maybe he could hide in there somehow, hide away from the people who were chasing him... He dashed to the tower, and around it so that it was between him and the people. Then he began climbing it.
Along the way, Sarah met an ostrich at one of the landings along the river. It was taller than she was, and its black feathers gleamed in the sunlight. After a moment, her friend convinced it to come on board, where it laid an egg. "Yes! Food!" Exclaimed her friend. She turned to Sarah. "I think it'll lay one for us every day. We won't need to worry about food anymore for the rest of the trip!" She seemed to notice something. "Here, let me do the poling again. You look tired. Why don't you rest some more?" Sarah just nodded and let go of the pole. The raft continued to drift lazily down the river.
Armand managed to find a hole between two of the bricks, and he squeezed into it. The material of the tower was faintly rubbery, and he worried that it might pop at any moment and collapse underneath him. Inside, the tower resembled a huge bouncy castle, except with more floors and windows. It was a tight fit, and he crouched inside, catching his breath. He hoped that the tower wasn't shaking with his panting and giving his position away. After a moment, he crawled to the hole on the opposite side, and peeped out. He could see the people clearly now. At first glance, they looked like normal people, but out of the corner of his eye, their forms morphed and became long, spindly, and bony. It was as if they were strange aliens in disguise. He suddenly knew that they were trying to make him one of them. And damned if I'll let them, he thought to himself. He just had to hope that they would bypass him and allow him to leave the tower.
Somehow, the raft drifted under the surface of the river. Sarah found that she could still breathe normally. There was thick seaweed above, blocking the view of the surface. A strange, ethereal light filtered down through it, its rays broken by the seaweed clumps. The shadows shifted back and forth in a calm, serene swaying motion. There was a row of stores and restaurants at the bottom. Her friend pulled her along, and whispered something about an errand. And then she was alone, facing a small pizza restaurant.
Suddenly, as if a breath of wind had blown them away, the aliens were gone. Armand breathed a sigh of relief, but he waited for a little longer before climbing out of the tower. He could no longer see the corridors that he'd been running through earlier. Now he stood on an open plain, with a gray sky above and flesh-like grass at his feet. There was something familiar about the place, but he couldn't figure out what. A sudden sound made him turn to look behind him, and he saw a mass of the aliens. They were closer than they'd ever been, and he started running again.
Sarah walked into the restaurant. There was a small bar to one side, with a television set suspended over it. It seemed to showing some sort of basketball game. There was one other customer, a blonde-haired man sitting at a table for two. He was reading a newspaper and munching on a slice of pizza. He looked vaguely familiar. Then he raised his head to look at her, and her breath caught in her throat. She recognized his face from movies and television, and from vague dreams in her middle school years. He smiled at her, and beckoned her to sit down with him.
Armand was starting to feel the effects of all the running. His breath caught painfully in his throat, and he had a stitch in his side that refused to go away. He wanted to stop, but he knew he couldn't. The plains had given way to corridors again, this time of plain, unadorned concrete. There were cracks in the walls, and patches where chunks had been ripped off. Some of the aliens seemed to have scattered somehow. At any rate, there seemed to be fewer of them chasing him. He turned a corner and paused for a few tense moments to catch his breath. And then he started running again.
She was back on the raft, and the celebrity she'd recognized had joined them. He seemed charmed by the ostrich. She knew she'd finished her errand, but she couldn't remember what it was. It was so much easier just to drift down the river on the raft, lazing on her back and watching the clouds.
And then there was a crash and a tangle of limbs, and Armand found himself underneath one of the aliens. "No! Get away from me! I don't want to become one of you!" He screamed, but the thing just blinked at him curiously, and then touched his face. He felt his flesh melt away and resculpt itself into some new form, felt the rest of his body rearranging itself. And then the alien was gone, and he was left alone in the endless corridors, sobbing.
The raft turned onto a more violent part
[What I want to happen here: more dream stuff. Armand has to stop fighting and go with the flow. Sarah has to actually fight the dream. Both get out.]
posted by Selene at 4:31 AM
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