A Memory
November 05, 2020 4:43 PM
The measure of a man by A Memory
The silver man was at once large and small.When the wisp took human form, it manifested a tremendous man. He was gigantic beyond even his original source, skewed perhaps by the stories of an unreliable narrator. But the height of the man was hardly his most defining feature. He was a man of harsh angles and unforgiving lines. His features were sharp, his nose hooked, his jaw uneven. In reality the man’s near shoulder-length hair, swept partially and haphazardly into a low ponytail at the nape of his neck, was black as the raven, but in this unanimously silver iteration, it matched his skin, which, usually a deathly pale, was far closer to its source material. His stature was fractured by his poor posture, a hunching back visible through his flowing robes as he bent down to reach his cane with sharp, boney fingers. Altogether with a relatively unwrinkled face, he seemed somehow ageless while also horribly aged, like time had passed and doubled back, stealing him from linearity. The man was no age at all and did not belong anywhere, any time.
And he paced, as well as he could. Beneath his cloak he moved with a decided limp, unsteady even with the cane’s assistance. He seemed undisturbed by the person observing, but then he suddenly looked in their direction, but not quite. His gaze came low, and from the glint in his cold eye, it seemed apparent he would speak to a child. “Just….walk..ing,” he said abruptly, with the inflection of having answered a question. His voice was deep and thick, accented with the sounds of London. His speech itself was slow, like every syllable was a strain on him. He had to concentrate to even get them out, especially in tandem with the high toll that walking seemed to take on him as well.
“Because,” he spoke again moments later, long enough for a response to have come, and then some. “If not… I will not… get… any strong...er.” He held a certain melancholy, yet he smiled. “And then.. your… mother… will nev…er let me be.”
Another pause, and like the first, it lingered a little too long, like the man wanted to speak but did not know physically how to start. “Of course… it is hard,” he said at last. “But… I must. If…. not, I-”
Something happened then. Perhaps the man tripped over something unseen on the ground, or perhaps the leg bearing the strain of unseen trauma just couldn’t keep going. Either way, the fastest action he had performed thus far was his fall. Suddenly he was on the ground, his face mangled with resisted pain, a level of twisted heat he clearly did not want the original observer to witness. “My.... boy. Please,” he said weakly, his cold eyes desperate. “Do not… call your mother…. I can…. I can... get up.”
The man struggled in vain, in desperation, in agony of both physical and mental kinds. Then his body grew limper as he conceded, responding to an unheard prompt. The arm propping him up was the only part of him tense, his fist clenched.
A petite woman with long hair appeared, kneeling down beside him. To anyone who had been around Sonora long, she might have been familiar. She had spent major portions of her life within the school’s walls, on both sides of the classroom. “Oh my god!” She exclaimed, wrapping her arms beneath him as if she could lift him. His eyes looked to the observer, betrayed. The woman was small, but somehow, he seemed smaller.
Subthreads: Subthread 1 with System, Mary Brooding-Hawthorne, Zeus Brooding-Hawthorne-Smith
Subthread 2
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A Memory
The measure of a man
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A Memory
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System
November 05, 2020 4:43 PM
System
November 05, 2020 4:43 PM
Mary Brooding-Hawthorne
November 07, 2020 12:42 PM
I think there are lots of ways to measure that. by Mary Brooding-Hawthorne
Mary about screamed her head off when she found a huge ghost standing in front of her in the classroom. She'd been in her office, putting things away, grading, and working on a few new potions that Katey had requested, when she realized she'd left something she'd needed in the classroom. Now, she couldn't even remember what it was. The fact that her wand was in her hand so quickly though was something she thought Tabitha would be proud of, which was good.Her next thought was that she really really needed more sleep. There didn't seem to be anything inherently cursed or evil about this thing, but there did definitely seem to be something there, especially as Mary didn't recognize the figure and had a hard time believing she'd conjured it up herself. However, after speaking with Giselle at the Opening Feast, Mary also couldn't quite help wondering if some of that, some of the supernatural (of the sort that might make even a pureblood throw salt over their shoulder), might not require a knowing subject to work from.
She wondered whether she should tell Selina, but there was also the very real possibility that stress and exhaustion were to blame, and she didn't want to put any more of that on the deputy headmistress' shoulders than she had to. As such, she was resolved to keep it to herself unless she saw it happening again. She was also resolved to take a sleeping draft tonight and finally get some good rest. And to meditate. And also to investigate.
Investigate first.
She stepped around the figure as it spoke, examining it from all sides. It seemed to be interacting with others that she couldn't see and it seemed not to see her either. She wondered at theories of parallel universes and timelines and wondered whether she was glimpsing one of those before remembering that she wasn't even sure she believed in those, so there were some steps back she'd need to take before going with that assumption.
The figure fell, clearly in pain, and Mary jumped forward as if to catch him, only to find her hand moving through the figure as if he weren't there at all. She'd think ghost if not for the fact that he was clearly not interacting with her in any way, and she doubted even the most thespian-leaning ghost would go to these lengths.
A woman appeared from literally nowhere then, as if her existence was bound to whether or not she'd been noticed. It was an interesting concept but Mary once again put philosophy aside in favor of the concrete, practical, and sensible. Not that this situation had a lot of stock in any of those departments but at least it was something to go on other than her own thoughts about the matter.
Mary paused as the woman looked up. Her face was familiar but Mary didn't think she'd ever met her. She reached out a tentative hand as if to brush her fingers against the woman's cheek, but found that they went through as well. She looked around the room, deciding that perhaps Tabitha wouldn't be so proud after all if it had taken her this long to take stock of her surroundings, and found that the only thing of any interest were the figures; this was not meant as a distraction or attack, it just was.
Mary sat on the floor and just stared.
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Mary Brooding-Hawthorne
I think there are lots of ways to measure that.
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Zeus Brooding-Hawthorne-Smith
November 07, 2020 12:47 PM
My mommy Mary and daddy Tabitha measure me and call me big man sometimes! by Zeus Brooding-Hawthorne-Smith
Zeus watched mommy go because he'd been watching her sit and this was much more interesting. Usually, when she was working, she kept up small conversation or otherwise occupied him in little ways (as he was meant to be occupying himself) and usually if she got up to go get something from the classroom, Zeus waited for her. She brought back stuff like books, quills, vials of potions, or sometimes just an expression that said she checked on something and found it wanting. In this case, she didn't come back at all for a while.On the whole, Zeus got bored pretty fast. In this case, since daddy wasn't ever around and mommy was stressed, Zeus was basically bored all the time. He was trying real hard to be good though because mommy seemed real stressed and it was the least he could do. Plus Mrs. Isis was stressed. Everyone was stressed and Zeus was bored.
He followed mommy after a few minutes, finding a very large man all made of silver. He crashed to the floor as Zeus arrived and he saw mommy try to help but she couldn't. Zeus' stomach clenched up. He remembered learning about ghosts before and he'd seen a couple, but people had told him that his first mommy and daddy weren't going to be ghosts and that that was good because ghosts were usually sad. Was this ghost sad? Mommy seemed sad a few moments later when she took a seat on the floor and stared at the other woman. Geez, everyone was stressed.
Giving the ghosts a wide berth, Zeus made his way to mommy and put his arm around her as she automatically did the same to him. He was trying to be brave because he was a little bit scared, but it was hard to be brave or scared when you were also sad and the ghosts made him sad.
"Mommy, did somebody die? Is that a ghost?"
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Zeus Brooding-Hawthorne-Smith
My mommy Mary and daddy Tabitha measure me and call me big man sometimes!
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Mary Brooding-Hawthorne
November 07, 2020 12:53 PM
You are the best little big man. by Mary Brooding-Hawthorne
Mary gaped at Zeus, her reverie broken as he approached, when he said he could see them too. She shook her head automatically, bringing her other arm up to wrap around him for comfort because his voice sounded small. "No, sweetheart, I don't think so," she said. "But I'm not sure."She broke eye contact with the figures, looking a little more closely at Zeus. "It's going to be alright, boyo," she promised, not wanting him to worry. Death was a sensitive subject for them both and she couldn't help being concerned about him if he thought they were ghosts.
This also brought back the question of whether she should tell Selina though. It seemed less likely that it was her own exhausted mind bringing these figures forth, but there was also the possibility that she'd done something wonky with one of her own potions and it was having hallucinogenic side effects on herself and Zeus. It also was possible that one of the student potions she'd been working on grading was doing it.
Her mind went quickly to safety mode. "We're going to go get some food and go for a walk, okay? Let's take a break," she said, rising back to her feet and taking Zeus' hand. Sustenance and fresh air - both in the sense of uncontaminated and the sense of not being the same stale air that always lingered in her office - would help. They would have to help. "Stay right here for just a moment."
Darting back inside her office, she cast a few quick protective charms, siphoning the materials she deemed most likely to be the cause (luckily she'd already graded the student ones), opening the window, and summoning Zeus' coat and shoes. She also summoned one of his books to give them a reason to stay in the Gardens a little longer. Then, she returned to Zeus, who was trying very hard not to look at the man and woman, who seemed to have paused and were fading now, and took his hand with a smile.
"It's alright. Let's go," she said.
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Mary Brooding-Hawthorne
You are the best little big man.
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