09-07-2014, 12:35 AM
The things we sell, the things we buy… Live, live you bastard for tomorrow you die and it all begins anew-
"After three fucking years, you finally change," he snapped.
It was two thirty three in the morning. Elijah was acutely aware of what time it was, what was going on around him in the dim space he was inhabiting in the rectory. he split his time in places where it would be safe, though without the privacy of his own space it would seem that unfamiliar parties would be rather unpleasantly surprised by Elijah's night time rituals and how this? This was just a deviation from the normal.
This was a line in the sand.
Enough was enough.
watch your tone, child, I've no patience for your kind.
"If you don't have any god damned patience for me then why are you still here?"
You do not know the road
"Where the fuck does the road lead, huh?" he rolled out of bed angrily and stood. his eyes trained against a wall, any wall that the sound came from. It didn't matter where Elijah went, the Voice followed. not that of the restless dead, but that of gravel and root. Something raw and visceral that grated on his skin and clawed at his senses. Something that whispered threats and promises and showed him a world of suffering he could not have possibly imagined.
you must decide your path, it's your chance now. Live
He laughed, the young man tried desperately to keep his voice down, but he couldn't help himself. He started to pace, a restless gesture and more like a caged animal than a normal young man. he didn't take his eyes off the wall, as though he expected it to do something other than sit there. It was just an ordinary wall, but something terrible lurked behind it. Something that guided him in his times of need.
It would seem this guidance was near constant.
"Which one is it? You have to show me the road, but I have to decide my path, which. One. Is. It. Do you want me to go somewhere, do something? Just fucking say it, because this shit isn't necessary!" he snapped. His tone rose, and the young man ran his hands through his hair.
You've faltered before. it replied calmly.
"Why?"
You remember.
"Because I… because I made some weird choices, look, it was just a dream, she was dead, I-"
You've faltered before.
"That was a dream," Elijah insisted, "it's always been a fucking dream, none of that was real-"
-Live, live because stasis is not an option-
"-it's never real, it's never been real-"
You've faltered before.
"What does that even mean?!" Elijah snapped at the wall, not really aware of the fact that he had raised his voice, unaware that Pan may be sleeping in the other room and that this was a largely inappropriate thing to do in someone's house. Typically, when one was a guest temporarily in someone's home you try not to have arguments with their walls. Elijah clenched his fists, staring hard at the sheetrock as though it would speak back.
It did.
It always did, though perhaps at the worst possible times.
Live, the Voice insisted, live because it's your chance now…
"Then fucking let me live, let me… let me make mistakes, let me make my mistakes and stop reminding me of whatever it is is you felt it necessary to show me for the last three years. I'm not whoever I used to be, I'm here now… do you understand that? I'm here. Now. Elijah -fucking- Poirot, not whoever you think I used to be. Not the guy who-"
Would sell his soul for his friends?
"There are prices we can not pay," he replied with conviction.
You say that now…
"I know better."
Do you?
"Do you trust me?"
Do you trust yourself
Elijah was silent at that moment, uncertain how to reply to that question. He took a few steps back towards the bed, sitting down on the rapidly cooling sheets.
you need to experience this, all of it… the good and the bad.
"Then why can't you ever show me something good?" he pleaded, "if there is good and bad in the world, show me something wonderful, let me have something wonderful for one night… Just one."
There was silence.
"Nevermind," Elijah muttered. The young man crawled back under the covers and went to sleep. That time. he did not dream of the end of the world. No drowning, no freezing, no Nothing.
Just… nothing.
"After three fucking years, you finally change," he snapped.
It was two thirty three in the morning. Elijah was acutely aware of what time it was, what was going on around him in the dim space he was inhabiting in the rectory. he split his time in places where it would be safe, though without the privacy of his own space it would seem that unfamiliar parties would be rather unpleasantly surprised by Elijah's night time rituals and how this? This was just a deviation from the normal.
This was a line in the sand.
Enough was enough.
watch your tone, child, I've no patience for your kind.
"If you don't have any god damned patience for me then why are you still here?"
You do not know the road
"Where the fuck does the road lead, huh?" he rolled out of bed angrily and stood. his eyes trained against a wall, any wall that the sound came from. It didn't matter where Elijah went, the Voice followed. not that of the restless dead, but that of gravel and root. Something raw and visceral that grated on his skin and clawed at his senses. Something that whispered threats and promises and showed him a world of suffering he could not have possibly imagined.
you must decide your path, it's your chance now. Live
He laughed, the young man tried desperately to keep his voice down, but he couldn't help himself. He started to pace, a restless gesture and more like a caged animal than a normal young man. he didn't take his eyes off the wall, as though he expected it to do something other than sit there. It was just an ordinary wall, but something terrible lurked behind it. Something that guided him in his times of need.
It would seem this guidance was near constant.
"Which one is it? You have to show me the road, but I have to decide my path, which. One. Is. It. Do you want me to go somewhere, do something? Just fucking say it, because this shit isn't necessary!" he snapped. His tone rose, and the young man ran his hands through his hair.
You've faltered before. it replied calmly.
"Why?"
You remember.
"Because I… because I made some weird choices, look, it was just a dream, she was dead, I-"
You've faltered before.
"That was a dream," Elijah insisted, "it's always been a fucking dream, none of that was real-"
-Live, live because stasis is not an option-
"-it's never real, it's never been real-"
You've faltered before.
"What does that even mean?!" Elijah snapped at the wall, not really aware of the fact that he had raised his voice, unaware that Pan may be sleeping in the other room and that this was a largely inappropriate thing to do in someone's house. Typically, when one was a guest temporarily in someone's home you try not to have arguments with their walls. Elijah clenched his fists, staring hard at the sheetrock as though it would speak back.
It did.
It always did, though perhaps at the worst possible times.
Live, the Voice insisted, live because it's your chance now…
"Then fucking let me live, let me… let me make mistakes, let me make my mistakes and stop reminding me of whatever it is is you felt it necessary to show me for the last three years. I'm not whoever I used to be, I'm here now… do you understand that? I'm here. Now. Elijah -fucking- Poirot, not whoever you think I used to be. Not the guy who-"
Would sell his soul for his friends?
"There are prices we can not pay," he replied with conviction.
You say that now…
"I know better."
Do you?
"Do you trust me?"
Do you trust yourself
Elijah was silent at that moment, uncertain how to reply to that question. He took a few steps back towards the bed, sitting down on the rapidly cooling sheets.
you need to experience this, all of it… the good and the bad.
"Then why can't you ever show me something good?" he pleaded, "if there is good and bad in the world, show me something wonderful, let me have something wonderful for one night… Just one."
There was silence.
"Nevermind," Elijah muttered. The young man crawled back under the covers and went to sleep. That time. he did not dream of the end of the world. No drowning, no freezing, no Nothing.
Just… nothing.