Memories, Coats and Headaches

Gods, but he was tired. No amount of tea or coffee could replace the sleep he wouldn't get, despite it being perhaps the darkest hour of an evening overcast with storm clouds. Regardless of the darkness, London was awake, and so was he, busying himself with anything, anything at all to keep him from remembering. The sketches for his updated arms had been checked and re-checked, everything in his room was cleaned and organized for the first time since his arrival, there was an abundance of food in the kitchen pantries for the other lodgers now, and his hands would have ended up permanently stained with ink, charcoal, and oil if he wasn't already planning on replacing them.

"Thank you, darling Ričardas. Lavender is my favorite flower. What vase should I use, do you think?"

"Smile, Ričardas. This is important to your mother, and to me."

"I'll be all right, Ričardas, just take my coat and go!"

"Richardas?~ Look at me, mano numylėtinis. Look at me!"

"Ričardas, I believe I have angered the wrong peop- my God, what happened to you? What have you done?"

"Nononono, Ričardas, please, don't do this, you're better than th-"

"Look at this, Ričardas. It is your art. Enjoy it, Ričardas." For four days out of the year, he pushed himself beyond his usual limits in the memory of things he would rather forget, but couldn't. For four and a half days, he had a pounding headache and a heavy heart. Four and a half days of vigilance for people who the meaning would never reach. Four and a half days of apologies that were never said.

The final hours were approaching, and he was tired. Gods, but he was tired. Having taken the opportunity to more thoroughly map out the winding corridors, he found himself by a window seat staring out into London itself, glowing and smoky in the distance. As he stared into the shifting landscape, he was struck with the sensation of feeling incredibly small. Sighing, he closed his eyes and climbed onto the seat, intending to rest for only a few moments. He clenched a fist against the throbbing pain behind his eyes.

Only a few more hours. Guilt and sorrow clawed at his throat and demanded to be known, fear carved out a place in his heart and a roar of anger perched under his throat. He had no right to count down the hours. He'd pay with his life if he weren't so afraid, weren't so hopeful.

He would do well to remember. He knew this, knew the value in accepting and letting go of past hurts. The trouble was accepting that knowledge. It didn't feel.. right. Someone had to remember, and who better than the person who caused it all in the first place? Again he was struck with the feeling of being small and vulnerable, as if malicious eyes were passing judgement on him. Gritting his teeth against tears threatening to spill, he halfway drew his knees to his chest.

He would stay here a few moments. He would remember. Every year he did, in the early hours of the morning. He remembered and he regretted and he regretted remembering.

'''Madame La Déchante:''' ( Suddenly, as if the world itself had sensed his pain, notes tinkle gently through the hall like the raindrops threatening to fall from the gloomy clouds, warming the cold white marble with the gentle intricate melody of an otherwise neglected piano.)

Tairais:  He jumped as the music began to play, then relaxed and even smiled a bit. This was a song he recognized, one his mother had taught him and one she would play when she couldn't sleep. A bittersweet memory, that, but it was much preferred to the bitter ones. He huffed an amused breath when he realized the parallels between his night playing on the rooftops and the current moment. Closing his eyes, he laid back against the wall behind him, getting lost in the music and the memories it provided, trusting in it to ground him should he begin to wander too far. He exhaled softly. "Thank you." Who he was thanking, he wasn't entirely sure. It was hardly like they could hear him, but it felt important to thank them regardless.

'''Madame La Déchante:'''  ( As if sensing the gratitude, the hands fervently work at the time worn keys, weaving more and more notes into the piece. The song intensifies, carrying further and further across the Society as the volume increases. )

Tairais:  Richard found himself pulled wholeheartedly into the memory of nights spent walking on moonlit pathways through the nearby forest, his mother humming the melody of the piece now played while he and his brother did their best to him the lower register, with varying degrees of success. He laughed the sound of breaking crystal, remembering his father carrying him on his shoulders to look for owls and his mother reminding them to be quiet, lest they startle the poor birds away. He smothered the next bit of laughter in a metal arm, tears trickling out of the only eye that could still cry. Bittersweet, indeed.

'''Madame La Déchante:'  ( The notes soften, sweeten- almost as if to caress Richard and remind him that they still are here for him, even though his family is not. A gentle mist settles outside his window, giving the streetlamps an otherworldly warmth. a lullaby'' )

--

Mz.Hyde: Beautiful isn't it? * Mz. Hyde had appeared near him in the corridor, watching the rain fall outside.* I love it when it's like this. The colors blend together in the rain. It's almost like a watercolor painting.

Tairais:  Richard tensed slightly, as often happened when he was startled, then forced himself to relax. He glanced at Mz Hyde and nodded before returning his gaze to the scene outside. "Indeed. I a-am m-most fond of p-painting on n-nights like t-these. T-the orange g-glow of the s-street lamps g-gives e-everything a... s-surreal feeling t-to it. D-dreamlike, even."

Mz.Hyde: *She nods her head.* Nights like these are my favorite.

Tairais:  He hummed his agreement. "T-they are g-good for a g-great n-number of t-things, and c-calming on the m-mind."

Mz.Hyde: A night like this by a warm fire and the one you love.... yeahhhh....those are the best.

Tairais:  Richard chuckled in a somewhat bittersweet manner. "T-the fire, I c-can do. Nonetheless, y-you are r-right in y-your sentiment."

Mz.Hyde: Do you love anyone?

Tairais:  Richard paused, slightly taken aback by the rather personal question. "I-I... do. I l-love the f-few friends I h-have, b-but l-love in the.. r-romantic s-sense d-does not come easily to me. T-there is t-the potential, c-certainly, t t-to love someone, h-however.." His gaze turned distant as several memories clambered for his attention, none of which were pleasant. "T-to love someone is t-to give them t-the power t-to k-kill you. T-to allow y-your whole s-self to be seen. I-it is a t-terrifying thought." He shrugged, tension in his shoulders and a faint undercurrent of grief and fear in his eyes.

Mz.Hyde: I understand...but is it better to have loved and lost then to have never loved at all, as the saying goes?

Tairais:  He shrugged. "D-debatable. I c-could h-have d-done with never l-loving t-the ones w-who l-left m-me l-like.. like this." His voice trailed off and grew quiet, fear tearing at his throat again as his mind so helpfully replayed some of the worst moments of his life. He hid his face behind his eyes, and as he did so, began muttering, unknowingly slipping into his native tongue as he thought. ''"Galbūt tai būtų buvę lengviau, jei aš jo nekentė. Nemanau, nekenčiu jų dabar žinoma. Aš jus atleido. Mes grojame tai, ką kortos buvo nagrinėjami. Bet ar tai svarbu? Ar tai svarbu ką mes darome, jei kas nors turėjo tūzą savo rankovė?" Ar tai svarbu jums, Jack? Elise? Benediktas? Tėvas?" ''Richard realized what he had done after a few moments and chuckled. "M-my apologies, I was.. t-thinking aloud. I s-suppose every situation is d-different."

Mz.Hyde: Yeah...sorry if I brought up anything unpleasant.

Tairais:  He shook his head reassuringly. "Y-you are q-quite all right, I a-am simply... bitter, may b-be t-the word for it." He slumped back against the wall, closing his eyes once more as he listened to the faint sounds of London at night.

Mz.Hyde: I think it's bittersweet that's the word you're looking for.

Tairais:  He nodded. "It s-seems appropriate, y-yes..." His voice trailer off, clearly at loss for words.

Mz.Hyde: Was she beautiful?

Tairais:  His eyes snapped open, caught off guard. "E-er, w-who, e-exactly?"

Mz.Hyde: Elise.

Tairais:  He chuckled bitterly. "B-beautifully c-cruel, p-perhaps." He was more fond of Jack, at any rate. Not that he'd mention that. He himself still wasn't sure where his feelings had lain on that subject.

Mz.Hyde: And Jack?

Tairais:  He snorted. "J-jack was Jack. E-everyone t-though he w-was attractive." If he was purposefully vague, then so be it.

Mz.Hyde: Attractive? How so?

Tairais:  Richard's cheeks burned slightly, and he coughed into his arm to try and cover it, smoothing his features into a contemplative sort of expression. He really had fallen out of practice with his masks- a note for later. "A-ah, hm. C-chiseled jaw, r-raven-black h-hair, a-artistically e-expressive eyes, and a g-grin that could c-charm just about anyone. E-easy t-to like, e-easy to be... wooed b-by, harder to k-know and a-all the m-more interesting for it." He shrugged casually, doing his best to hide the single spark of tension in his one expressive eye. "I w-was glad t-to know him a-as well as I did. He was a g-good friend." Good friend, and still he had wanted more. The man himself flirted with everything under the sun, but it had seemed.. fitting, to be his friend more than anything else at the time. Not that there was ever the chance for something else. Elise saw to that.

Mz.Hyde: But he liked someone else huh?

Tairais:  Richard sighed and shrugged. Surely there was no harm in admitting this, yes? "I b-believe it is m-more a case of I w-was not sure where m-my feelings lay, n-nor entirely c-certain if w-what I was f-feeling w-was real, c-combined w-with t-the g-general f-frowned u-upon nature of t-those things w-where we were at the t-time.. Et c-cetera. I h-had my c-chance with h-him, and it w-was f-four years in t-the making b-before I felt anything o-other t-than a c-close friendship. The c-concept of 'l-love' is a f-funny thing to me. I seldom r-realize I am w-what most consider 'in l-love' until the other p-party is d-dying in m-my.. a-arms.." He was going to get lost in more memories if he didn't stop. He didn't particularly want to stop either. If he didn't, he could pretend everything was still relatively fine with the ones he left behind.

Mz.Hyde: What happened?

Tairais:  Richard stiffened, and his eyes glazed over as he was found himself in several places not the present. His hands twitched violently, and he clutched at the hem of Jack's coat in an attempt to ground himself. While he felt the fabric gripped in his hands, he had no other sensory input from the world around him. His memory was 'kind' enough to provide the details. ''He wrapped Jack's coat tighter around him, ducking into an alleyway while Elise laughed against the sickening thuds of metal and wood on flesh. He would not shed tears for whoever had fallen to save the rest of them. He didn't have the energy, time, or safety to spare. They were closing in on him and he had to keep moving. He had to. What would all their sacrifices be for if he failed? ''With a sickening lurch, he found himself in another memory. ''He was screaming. He couldn't hear himself, but he was screaming. Everything burned and his vision swam. Something was wrong and he couldn't tell what. There were many things wrong, but he couldn't remember why. ''He shuddered. What had come before that? What had happened, indeed? ''All was quiet on New Year's Day. The world around them was white with snow, and the festivities were already underway. The sound of a merry fiddle came from hands less experienced than his own, but he could hardly find it in himself to complain through the warmth of drink. He leaned against Jack and laughed at some joke the other man said for what was likely the thirtieth time that night, just to hear his voice in return. He was only missing the one hand. They were both much younger, and much less scarred. They were both alive. The door slammed open, almost missed against the hubbub of the tavern until someone produced a pistol and fired it into the air. Several people screamed and fell silent. He was still giggling- why was he still giggling? Jack turned pale and tried to shove him out the door but Richard noticed a split second too late, and the curtain fell. Elise's smile was as breathtaking as ever, except this time it was from fear. They both bolted out the back door. They were foolish to think she had stopped looking for them. In this instance, Hell truly had no fury like a woman scorned. ''He was shuddering now. Images flashed by quicker, slipping through his fingers as he stilled completely, not daring to draw breath. ''Jack, shouting something in a language he still barely knew. In a moment of deja vu, he gave Richard his jacket. Richard hid it in an alley before they ran their separate ways. A shot, a thud, and a view from the roof of a building some distance away. The scream perpetually perched beneath his chin bubbled out then, the sound of a wounded animal. Running down the alleyways of what was almost home, panting heavily and slipping on ice just as the report of a gunshot reached his ears- and his torso. And leg. And back. A smiling face against a backdrop of navy blue and maroon. Knowing that was the end of a chapter in your life, one way or another. Pain. White-hot pain, and so many smiling knives and their hatefully grinning teeth digging into him. Fading and waking up on the side of the road, somehow alive. Falling when he tried to stand. A figure, approaching him with a familiar coat. A tearful farewell in so many different languages that would never be understood, and a gesture universal to all. He still wasn't sure if he had dreamed that, but the evidence strongly suggested he had. Alone. The terrible feeling of being alone.''

The entire internal exchange took less than a minute, in which Richard found himself smiling and shaking his head, not trusting himself to speak.

He couldn't.

 --

'''Catt Hatter:''' *Catt wandered aimlessly through the winding corridors, listening to the rain and thinking. She had been certain what she had done was the right decision, despite all the painful consequences changing things had caused. Why then, did she feel so awful? So guilty? All she had wanted was to save her friend's life, had that been wrong? Was it not her choice to make? While passing a window, she thought to take a glance out at the rain-soaked streets. However, she hadn't expected to see someone else already there with the same notion. Richard. Her eyes wandered listlessly over his scarred face, and metallic hands. A tiny, sparkling idea fought it's way to the surface of her lingering melancholy without invitation. She opened her mouth to give the hopeful spark a voice, but changed her mind before the idea could even see light. Despite her best intentions, all her attempts to help kept ending in messy and painful ways. Her shoulders and head drooped as she slipped back beneath the waves of morose thoughts that had held her captive ever since that night. She turned to continue her wanderings in the quiet halls.*

Tairais:  Another flicker of movement caught his eye, and this time Richard wasn't entirely certain that it wasn't a dream. The stag's breath billowed on his shoulders like a sickly caress. Rain from a forest long forgotten was the play of a ghostly finger down his spine. He had shuddered heavily, then. Firelight danced in his eye, the cloying taste of blood and fear curled acrid and copper-like in his nose. He had tasted both that and the smoke writhing around him as he stared in horror, seeing something that wasn't real and at the same time was entirely real: a representation of himself. He had been- was real, yes? The stag, clad in feathers and crowned with antlers of crimson-stained bone, then bellowed like the roar of a passing steam train, and still, he had not been afraid: He had looked upon it in awe as pandemonium vibrated in his chest. The stag gave him a final gaze, eyes flashing black and alien in the light, then bounded into the flames. There had been a final terrible bugle, then utter silence, save for the hunger of the flames around him. He had looked down at his hands- his blood-soaked, trembling hands- and found himself unafraid. He didn't feel sickened at the tragedy he had staged, oh no. There had never been room for that in an artist to rival Shakespeare himself. They had both called themselves that once, even if Shakespeare worked with words instead of their particular media. That was (is?) his design, and it had horrified him that he wasn't horrified. He had fallen to his knees as carrion-birds swarmed him from all sides, cawing raucously. They had torn great, gasping wounds in him, and it had felt like he was trying to claw out of his own skin (he had though, hadn't he?). Smoke had curled around him as he ran, laughing with the bellow of the stag perched under his chin and, and- And. He gasped and spluttered past the burning in his lungs: he hadn't been breathing. He furiously took that memory and locked it in a hidden safe, somewhere in the twisting halls of his mind. It was, by no means, hidden entirely: Tendrils of black smoke clung to his hands even as he confirmed that yes, they were still metal, and he was no longer completely gone. Was the smoke rooted in reality? It wouldn't have been the first time, and yet.. He closed his eyes and rested a cheek against the cool glass. Just a few more hours.

--

'''Hyde without a Jekyll:''' *As the sky darkened the lights grew ever brighter, dancing it the rain, creating a swirl of memories that shone through the glass. A small girl with book clutched in hand, sneaks her way through the halls, ashamed to look at anyone. She slows to a stop, when passing by Richard. She looks in at him, tears threatening to fall like the rain out side. *

Tairais:  Richard almost didn't hear the soft footsteps over the patter of rain against glass. He stiffened slightly and glanced up, only to be surprised by someone who looked as sorrowful as he felt on the worst of nights (This particular vigil was more softly painful acceptance than anything). "A-are y-you quite all r-right, amico?"

'''Hyde without a Jekyll:'''  *She sighed and leaned against the door frame, Never looking at Richard only staring at the swirling colors that painted the window.* ...Are any of us?

Tairais:  He smiled wryly. "T-true enough." He turned his gaze back to the window, eyes drifting ever so slowly to being closed. He noticed right before his eyes closed, and shook his head to stay awake. "W-well, f-for the most p-part."

'''Hyde without a Jekyll:'''  *A small smile tugged at her lips and the girl wiped her eyes and sniffed.* ...That look in your eyes...are you remembering or forgetting?

Tairais:  He shrugged and grinned wryly. "W-why not b-both? T-they come hand in h-hand, do they n-not?" '''Hyde without a Jekyll:'''  *She sighed.* ...They do but not when dealing with the same memory. Tairais:  "P-perhaps I am remembering n-now, in order t-to f-forget l-later. It is p-possible, yes?" His smile softened at this; he didn't mean to tease the girl.

'''Hyde without a Jekyll:'''  *She looked back out the window.* That is a possibility, though...why one would want to I'm not entirely sure. Remembering is a chore and forgetting is a luxury that many cannot afford. If there is something that you want to both forget and remember then I suggest you keep that thought close to your chest but just out reach from your hands.

Tairais:  "It is d-difficult to d-do that w-when everything is as.. i-intertwined as it is. F-for me, at least. I h-have to p-put my t-thoughts under l-lock and k-key, and then w-wonder w-what I a-am forgetting." Gods, he was talking an awful lot? And yet, he could hardly summon the energy to be nervous or control his blabbering tongue. If he was somehow harmed by this exchange of ideas and information, he would find fault with it later. That was really only partly true, he just didn't want to think otherwise at the moment.

'''Hyde without a Jekyll:'''  *A small smile flickered across her lips for a moment.* Our minds plague us but yet they carry us forward through this maze of life. Besides that may be for the best as thoughts and memories contain knowledge. They say a little knowledge is a dangerous thing but how much knowledge does a person need before they are safe? *She shakes her head and snorts at the question.* ...They'll never be safe again. Ignorance is truly bliss.

Tairais:  Richard laughed, a small, broken thing entirely too close to hysterics. He buried his face in his hands, grinning and sighing all at once. "C-certamente, y-yes. T-to n-not know what I know, to n-not remember w-what I do.. I w-would not be who I a-am without it, b-but I d-do miss being i-ignorant at t-times."

'''Hyde without a Jekyll:'''  ...I think we all do. That child-like state of feeling free without knowing the prisons we live in, we all crave it at some point. *She slid down the wall and sat legs stretched out on the floor* ...Those memories, those stories that haunt us, we desire to be rid of them but we know that without them we are nothing. Only in our dreams can we not see those walls of confinement, but even a dream will turn to a nightmare as reality sets in reminding us of who, what we are. We can hide from the world easily, but hiding from ourselves is near impossible.

Tairais:  The laughter subsides to a chuckle as his erratic heartbeat slows by increments. "N-nightmares, d-dreams, r-reality. They are t-the same f-for me. T-they b-bleed like t-they are watercolors and I am a b-battered canvas in an empty r-room, facing a m-mirror. I k-know who I am." His voice dropped to a whisper, as if he were confessing some terrible truth. In fairness, it almost was. "I k-know and s-see who I am, and it m-makes little d-difference b-because I am here w-while they are not. T-they still search f-for me, t-too f-finish the w-work w-." He cuts himself off at this point, closing his jaws with an audible 'clack.' Too much, he said too much. He was going to pay for it. He stiffened, drawing his gangly limbs to his chest like a bird might.

'''Hyde without a Jekyll:'''  *She doesn't look at him for she knows his face quite well as having worn it herself. She lets the silence grow stretching out in the night.* ...At least you can look at yourself. *She stood up and left.*

--

Decipherer: Further down in the hallway were soft, gentle footsteps that padded across the marble floor with an odd grace made a slow but eventual stop upon the doorway to the room where Richard sat staring upon London now. The day had been filled with questions and only half of the answers were provided, and Artemis was asleep. Elias froze in the frame of the door, but relaxed when he recognized the man. His eyes seemed to soften as he looked upon him, his arms crossing. Richard was so much more than a mystery, and he longed to know why he always seemed so... pained. But these thoughts did not last, and nor did he; as soon as he had found himself staring, pulling apart what he knew of Richard like one would dissect an animal, he felt shame rise within his chest, and he abandoned the doorway as soon as he had arrived.

Tairais:  Lost in thought as he was, Richard noticed Elias' presence but wasn't aware of it until he decided to leave. Distantly, the thought made the corner of his lip twitch in a half-smile. He hoped the two brothers were getting along. That thought turned into memories of his own, of a brother constantly barging into his study to drag him on some sort of adventure. In later years, such surprises had lost their charm with the increase in pressure on both their shoulders, the need for personal space never fully soothed. He supposed the novelty of being left alone would never quite lose its bittersweet charm. He hadnt realized he was staring at the doorway until he looked back at the scenery of London.

--

DeathMurder_JH: The sound of the rain beating on the window slowly, showing the big picture that London was. Mattias Mortensen walked through the house, when he reached the hallway and saw where Richard was. He did not know him intimately, sincerely Mattias did not know anyone as it was not sociable. She walked up to him and said sitting on the floor next to him: '- Are you okay?'

Tairais:  Richard jumped in surprise: he had almost dozed off. He nodded somewhat tersely as an instinctive reaction, not recognizing the person on the floor next to him. "F-fine! Er, I am w-well, merely t-tired. E-er, do I k-know y-you?"

DeathMurder_JH:  '- Oh, Hello Forgive me if I frightened you... It was not my intention. I'm Mattias Mortensen. You must be Richard. Do not you remember me?' - Asked Mattias looking away, since I could not speak looking directly at people.

Tairais:  He frowned. "It is q-quite, though I-I... do n-not. R-remember you, t-that is. My apologies, m-my memory.Is as p-patchwork as the rest of me." He shrugged, waving a hand in a sort of sweeping motion towards his scarred face and metal limbs. He couldn't summon the energy to be bothered by his vulnerability.

DeathMurder_JH:  '-I imagine that you do not remember... You sure you're okay? It seems destroyed.' - Says Mattias looking sadly down.

Tairais: "I.. er. I am well, y-yes." Richard was confused and frankly, a little unsettled. He did his best to hide it. "W-what is d-destroyed, e-exactly?"

DeathMurder_JH:  '-Her appearance'. - Responds distant Mathias. '- What happened?'

Tairais:  He smiled bitterly, more of a baring of teeth than anything, truth be told. "T-too m-many t-things."

DeathMurder_JH:  '-Oh, I understand. I know how you feel. I love a woman who does not exist and I am in severe debt. I think we're both with many thoughts and a lot to think about.' - He said, looking at Richard.

Tairais:  He shrugged. "T-thoughts a-are p-pack hunters. Y-you l-let o-one catch you, t-they all t-tear into y-you." Richard found himself staring at his hands as he spoke. Even before they were beings of metal and wires, they had been covered in the scars of bitter words. "T-they always d-do. I t-try to ignore t-them."

DeathMurder_JH:  '-You're right. Feelings corrupts the soul. - Mattias looked out the window and continued: '- It's like they say... love is the lack of hate. For me, the thoughts are like love, only there to fill the void of our minds.'

Tairais:  Richard tilted his head in a contemplative manner. "P-perhaps n-not corrupt. T-they hurt, but what w-would humanity b-be without t-them?" He chuckled inwardly. This was not a conversation he had expected to have.

DeathMurder_JH:   Mattias heard the words spoken by him and looked at him puzzled. Really feelings are terrible, but what would be humanity without them? Nothing. Mattias Mortensen was no reaction. I did not know what to say to him, was speechless. 'Damn it!' Mattias thought. Maybe I should not have spoken to Richard Thought Mattias again. This also was not the conversation he wanted, and he knew that Richard would never say anything to him. '-But... It's just... you... maybe...' - he stopped completely.

Tairais:  Richard tense slightly. Had Mattias seen something? Forts were forts, but the mortar between bricks was always crumbling. Faking levity, he tilted his head in confusion. "M-maybe w-what?"

DeathMurder_JH:  '-M-maybe... I... I do not know, I feel that there is something wrong... Something's going to happen... I-I do not know... I just think.'

Tairais:  He chuckled. "S-something is a-always about to h-happen." He felt a quiet sense of purpose and the clarity of determination steel his features, an icy glint catching in the depths of his eyes. In the flickering, dying light of day, he fancied he almost looked otherworldly; It was rare he let that particular expression out of his carefully cultivated garden of masks. "It is up to us to break or bend in the wind, to change in the wind or be dispersed like so many ashes." ''There was a flicker of antlers at the corners of his vision, and he stilled. Not today, never in the daylight. He had to shrug it off. ''Once again, the mask of the kindly doctor went on, the gleam in his eyes softening towards the warmth of the summer. "I h-have f-faith you will s-survive w-whatever the world b-brings. Lesser m-men have s-stood and risen from g-great tragedies."

DeathMurder_JH:  'Maybe...' - said Mattias Mortensen, getting up and walking from one side to the other, walking in circles. '- Faith?' - Asks Mortensen staring at him. '- I do not think there is faith. I do not think we can survive. The world is no bed of roses. Do you think there is hope?! ' - Angry Mortensen question. '- Do you think the world will help you? Repaying? Accept? No no go! '- He yelled losing polite and formal posture. '- People are cruel and are killed by the thousands. Why Devils should have faith and hope? Huh?! Because?' - He stopped and stared at him with a cruel and hateful look.

Tairais:  Richard's eyes glittered with amusement and something unnamed in the depths. He had weathered worse storms than this man's temper. He made a show of spreading his arms as he shrugged, the sleeves of his jacket falling to metal elbows. "Y-you speak to o-one who has been a-anything but helped b-by an unforgiving w-world, w-who has k-killed and s-saved and n-nearly been k-killed. A bed of r-roses has t-thorns underneath, and s-still, y-you may crawl through it to see the beauty above, or c-crawl ever s-slowly forward to f-freedom. There is always an e-end. W-we should have f-faith and h-hope so w-we may find t-the one we m-most prefer." He exhaled softly through his nose. This conversation was made of circuitous metaphors, and it made his head ring. It was not too dissimilar to one of his brother's formal gatherings, though they were moreso practice in how insult someone without them noticing until it was in hindsight than in.. whatever this was.

DeathMurder_JH:  'Thorns?' - He repeated. '- I did not do anything for this stupid world. And you did? You did something to make me see hope? Something that do not be help yourself? I think you nothing more than the remains of a battle with blood. A battle without no hope.' - Mattias Mortensen clenched his fists as if to beat Richard, but he held back for a moment, taking a deep breath and staring at him. He blinked slowly and wait for an answer.

Tairais:  "I, m-my friend, did nothing but meet y-you, and t-that is h-how I c-chose to h-have hope f-for you. Y-you are under n-no o-obligation t-to see h-hope yourself, but I w-would k-kindly ask y-you refrain f-from s-speaking o-of my p-past as if y-you k-know it better t-than I." 'Really, now,' Richard mused, 'This is uncalled for. I was merely sitting here and reminiscing.' He sat calmly and felt no fear. If things became violent, he was fairly confident in his ability to fight or flee as the situation called for. Truth be told though, he'd prefer to avoid any more blood on his hands. There was more than enough.

DeathMurder_JH:  Mortensen looks angry at Richard, think a little and said changing the tone of his voice: '- Sorry. It is that... is that I forget that your past is also bad. And sometimes... For once, I wanted to take my revenge. You know, make people see what I see, feel what I felt. I must be getting obsessed...' - Mattias takes a photo of pocket. It was an old photo with stains of blood and dust. He looks at the photo showing the figure of a woman. Mellyssa. The woman he loved and who died there years. A woman he had ever truly loved. He felt a complete idiot and tore the picture, throwing the pieces into the coat pocket. He turned to Richard and said, '- What do you think of going to the bar to drink? I need to relax.'

Tairais:  Richard blinked somewhat owlishly at Matthias' mercurial moods. He shrugged somewhat apologetically, a curious glint in his eyes. "M-my apologies, b-but I am n-not overly fond of drink. I w-was thinking of s-staying here for a l-little longer, if y-you care for to stay a-and watch the rain f-for a while." Somewhere, distantly in his mind, Richard thought of the sole picture of both his families together, burning a hole somewhere in the recesses of his trunk. He could take a page out of Matthias' book, and in fact, it would probably help, but there was a quiet voice holding him back. It sounded much too like his brother, truth be told. Ah well. Some memories were made to stay. He figured he probably had a House of Memories by this point. DeathMurder_JH:  Mattias looked at him with a puzzled look and said, '- Enjoy the rain? But this is boring.' - He murmured like a child. '- How about if I bring something? Or anyone? Michael Lokken perhaps? '

Tairais:  Richard chuckled. "I f-find it r-rather soothing, actually. Y-you may go do as y-you please, b-but I will s-stay here." He was really getting quite tired. Just a few more hours. Just until the sun rose again. He'd sleep then.

DeathMurder_JH: '- No I will not. I will make company to you.'

Tairais:  He nodded. "I h-hope you do n-not mind terribly if I d-do not s-speak much. I h-have been... r-rather lost in t-thought as of l-late, and I cannot s-see that h-happening any t-time soon."

DeathMurder_JH:   '- No problem... Also will not talk much.' - He sat down and rested his head in one hand, singing a symphony of Isaac Stern.

Tairais:  Richard smiled softly. There were fewer things he enjoyed than someone to share silence with, regardless of how wildly their moods might change. He leaned back against the wall of the window-seat, closing his eyes. He fancied he could hear the tap of his mothers fingers on the old grand piano if he listened hard enough. It was peaceful.

DeathMurder_JH: Mattias was not quiet. He feels something wrong. Something bad. He looked calm on the outside but was crazy inside. Still, he permanceu quietly waiting for Richard to say something.

Tairais:  Richard noticed Mattias' tension and resisted the urge to frown. Biting back a soft sight, he began to hum the lullaby he heard his mother playing in his mind's eye, singing along in his head. He didn't want to, or couldn't, really, speak. DeathMurder_JH: Mattias was concerned and scared and decided to drugging himself, believing it would be more feasible. He took a pocket bottle with pills for headache and swallowed three. also took a tablet soothing and swallowed quickly. Wiggled her fingers and said to Richard: '- What do you think of Polygraph?'

Tairais:  Richard tilted his head in and frowned, barely a crease in the forehead, but still a frown. "I-I.. do not b-believe I h-have had the occasion t-to use one. W-why d-do you ask?"

--

Miss Jekyll and Miss Hyde: There down the hallway was the sound of a rolling court and a cheerful humming attached the the sound. Footsteps could barely be heard as a girl with curly green hair appeared. She wasn't a lodger but a mere guest with no where else to go, no place to call home. She was heading to the kitchen to have some food packed to last a few days when she thinks she got lost in till she sees Richard. Oblivious to to his obvious pain she stopped her cart and calmly approached. "Excuse me sir, sorry to disturb you but can you help me find the kitchen. I'm a guest and i best figured i'd be leaving. If you wish me to leave i can it doesn't matter" Lizzy said. Her cart now visible in the pale light seemed to have a old trunk that seemed to have cloth sleeves sticking out, a mat for sleeping in front of it, some old shoes, a long coat that seemed to filled with pocket watches on the inside, a old top hat with a large fabric flower, a lantern with little oil, a box with two bottles of oil, a very thin tattered quilt folded neatly and lastly a rolled up painting in a case.

Tairais:  At the sound of the approach, Richard lifted his head wearily, eyes dark underneath from the lack of sleep. He blinked once before he visibly smoothed his features, and offered up a soft smile, trying to ignore the way the gesture pulled at scar tissue. His eyes quickly cataloged the items on the cart, and while he was curious, he didn't show it, for the sake of being polite. "N-not to worry, I w-was just thinking." He rose gracefully but winced when his knees (technically, knee) popped. Taking a moment to stretch, he gestured for her to follow him. "T-the kitchen i-is p-perhaps the only r-room I can c-consistently f-find w-without getting l-lost." He chuckled softly, and began to walk, expecting her to follow.

'''Miss Jekyll and Miss Hyde:'''  "Great! Thank you!" Lizzy chirped getting behind her cart and pushing it behind him. The girl looked filthy her hair was a poofy curly mess, and her clothes were old and tattered.

Tairais:  "B-but of c-course." His limbs and head felt disconnected from the rest of him. It was hardly a new sensation, but nonetheless walking was strange and took a bit more effort than he was used to, even with the weight of a metallic leg. Regardless, after a few minutes walking through twisting corridors, he found the familiar doorway of the kitchen and stepped through. He might as well make some tea while he was here.

'''Miss Jekyll and Miss Hyde:'''  Lizzy had grown used to her robotic leg her self the magic it was enchanted with was fading. She could tell but she had a smile. "Um i see that both you and me have the same problem" She said, since she wore long enough pants to cover it, it wasn't really visible to most.

Tairais:  Richard blinked in surprise, then smiled and chuckled, showing his replacement arms as well. "It w-would appear t-that it i-is a m-more common 'p-problem' here t-than w-where I.. received t-them. The t-thought is.. c-comforting, I t-think t-the word is." He set the kettle to boil and leaned against the counter, grateful for the support.

'''Miss Jekyll and Miss Hyde:'''  Lizzy rolled up her pant leg to show the lower half of her leg was a robotic one. "I'm half tempted just to get this pant leg off so i can do maintenance better." Lizzy said sighing and smiling she then grabbed a small loaf of bread, slice of cheese, dried fruit, and a few carrots. "I'm not from London, it's not common where i'm from. I was originally born in Romania but i was dumped here by my family."

Tairais:  Richard nodded. "By all m-means, go ahead. I am perhaps t-the l-last person w-who would j-judge you f-for it." He paused to pour now-boiling water into a teacup and set the leaves to steep, each step now a familiar part of a soothing ritual, accompanied by the slightest sense of déja vú. "I a-am from Lithuania and Italy myself, n-neither of which w-were very f-fond of t-them." He didn't care to elaborate beyond that.

'''Miss Jekyll and Miss Hyde:'''  "Yeah i know the feeling" Lizzy said tearing it off and putting the food in a satchel in her cart.

Tairais:  He smirked slightly. "I s-still b-believe their r-response w-was... shall w-we say, b-baseless." He picked up the teacup and blew away the steam, sipping gingerly. He scrunched his nose in irritation when the brew proved to be just a touch too hot still, and waited patiently.

'''Miss Jekyll and Miss Hyde:'''  "My response from others was disappointment. Something else to worry about for me for my parents" Lizzy said.

Tairais:  Richard hummed agreeably, still nursing the burning feeling of his tongue. "I never understood. T-they are l-limbs r-regardless, w-what does it matter w-what t-they are m-made of?"

'''Miss Jekyll and Miss Hyde:'''  "Neither did i, but i understood why cause i was different from them" Lizzy said.

Tairais:  Richard nodded, hearing the echos of the past in the girl's voice. Something similar to a conversation with his father, some years ago. Words were not coming as easily as his head pounded rather incessantly. He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose wearily.

'''Miss Jekyll and Miss Hyde:'''  "Anywho! Enough about the past." Lizzy said.

Tairais:  He chuckled. "Agreed. W-where are y-you p-planning on wandering w-when you leave?"

'''Miss Jekyll and Miss Hyde:'''  "Wandering?" Lizzy asked.

Tairais:  "T-travelling, s-staying, v-visiting. Many h-have words f-for the places they go. I w-wander." He shrugged, as if that were simply the fact of the world and no strange thing.

'''Miss Jekyll and Miss Hyde:'''  "I'll be surviving" Lizzy said.

Tairais:  He nodded. "Always a w-worthy p-pursuit. I-if you care f-for an i-interesting place to s-survive, France is easy e-enough to h-hide in, I've f-found."

'''Miss Jekyll and Miss Hyde:'''  "I have no way to get to france" Lizzy said. "I was dumped here with nothing but my clothes"

Tairais:  "I-if y-you would like, I could p-provide the c-coin for t-travel t-to mainland Europe. A-anything beyond that, I h-have w-walked to b-before. I b-believe y-you will be f-fine from there."

'''Miss Jekyll and Miss Hyde:'''  "I'm good in england" Lizzy said. "thank you for the offer"

Tairais:  He nodded behind another gulp of tea, letting the warmth chase the chill from his bones.

'''Miss Jekyll and Miss Hyde:'''  Lizzy smiled at him grinning.

Tairais:  He offered a soft smile in return, before tilting his head towards the still slightly-steaming kettle. "W-would you l-like some t-tea b-before you s-set off?"

'''Miss Jekyll and Miss Hyde:'''  "No i'm good." Lizzy said.

Tairais:  He shrugged. "V-very well. I-if y-you will excuse m-me, I s-should r-retire for t-the n-night."

'''Miss Jekyll and Miss Hyde:'''  "Farewell" Lizzy said going to her cart.

Obtained From
Memories, Coats, and Headaches