"The time has come," The walrus said
ooc note: this happens somewherre during this post:
http://tokentales.livejournal.com/22257.html#cutid1
One fine day in the middle of the night,
Two dead boys got up to fight,
Back to Back they faced each other,
Drew their swords and shot each other-
The house was quiet when she got home, she droped her bags in the doorway calling for Papa.... the dark loomed and figures she could barely make out of the shadows lurked there waiting... faces and other things lurking there, but as she focused her senses she knew that the only consciousnes around her were Papa, Dexter and herself.... the others all just figments of her imagination. Projections of the hundreds of voices she heard in the dark. Dexter moved she knew he was coming, and spoke in his thick accent, "He has not been out of his room..." She nodded letting the quiet man return to his buisness, and she wandered upstairs to Papa's room. The music she heard entranced her and she called to him, his consciousness so faint she worried and holding her silver necklace tightly in one hand and the the locked dorrknob in the other she melted it, the stinging blow of the dark leaving her bruised, but it was necessary.
One had no eyes and the other couldn't see,
So they chose the Devil for a referee.
A mute psychotic shrieked in fright
With words of joy at this ghastly sight.
The large TV played strangeness upon it and she could smell the headdy scent of opiates in the air... it was strangely soothing and familiar, she didn't mind. She breathed deeply the scent letting her senses take in the room, she spoke to Papa quietly, comfortingly, his consciousness there so she wasnt' too concerned... She watched him for a few moments, taking in his form naked and prone on the bed. She chuckled softly to herself, If men weren't ment to wear clothes they would have been born naked. She walked in bare feet steping over the needles and foils picking them up carefully as she went tidying up, "Was it really that bad of a weekend for you too?" She wandered into the bathroom and came out with a cool washcloth, "That bad." She giggled his unresponsiveness more of an answer than any words he could have said. She crawled into his bed lifting him easily then resting his head in her lap. Wiping his brow gently with the washcloth she coos to him softly humming, protectivly holding him in her arms.
A paralysed donkey passing by,
kicked the blind man in the eye,
knocked him through a missing wall,
Into a dry ditch and drowned them all,
His eyes with their otherworldly color and glazed over look she watched in facination for what seemed like hours; his angelic face bore no true emotions for quite sometimes, lost in the haze that she... remembered? She looked down to her arms and saw all the little pinpricks and wondered how they got there... more answers and yet more questions. He started talking to her in a strange mix of french... hatian most likely and she concentrated for a moment and understood and spoke to him in return.... His voice heady and a bit distant, "...so many fucks and the silence is golden." Silence... it had been so long since she had heard nothing that she understood, with perfect clarity. Cheched out for the weekend. No voices no worries.... silence is golden. He rambles on, sometimes she looses herself in his voice, just listening, "When is the next round. I am Samson, no ass but no hair." There was always a next round, but who knows when? She leaned back her head touching the wall and making a soft thung that made her happy dispite the tinge of pain, "I don't know when the next round is, but the walls here are hard and that is a good thing." He reached up idily teasingly and batted at her dreads.... she chuckled softly as he continued, "Big money, magic prizes. Walls are good, walls are needed. Stupid, stupid, stupid."
A deaf policeman heard the noise,
and came to kill those two dead boys,
If You don't think my tale is tall,
Ask the blind man he saw it all
She held him cloes and spoke back to him, everything making so much sense in her world, everything in that moment crystal clear.... except for nothing was stupid, just varing levels of insanity. "All depends on how much for keeps you're playing.... what's stupid?" He spoke back to her with words she knew she would never quite understand because for right now in this moment he was like her, everything making perfect sense to him in his own world, but to her and any he spoke to they would always wonder, but she didn't. He made sense to himself and she could understand. Though his words did make her think and she spoke as best she could as it was only proper as he was speaking to her as best he could, "You could be dead I suppose... and I could still be in the asylum...." His response tickled her, his laughter spreading a strange joy, "You don't have your eyes anymore Ghede. Are you here for my other one?" He laughed untill he coughed and so did she.... she picked him up just a bit as he started coughing he was laughing so hard, she responded, "Noone is here for eyes... I like yours in your head.... They look better that way."
And the narrator,
With his story untold,
Meekly whispered,
Loud and bold,
The beginning words,
She giggled softly teasing him with her dreads tickling his nose, "And when morning comes you will only wish Ghede had taken you.... " Unfortunatly she knew the toll to pay would be a hard one.... He sang to her the strangest song... she had never heard it vulgar that it was she thought she should have heard it... she laughed as he tried to catch her dreads in his teeth. Letting him sometimes. He was playing and like all cats they played, and she liked it when he did. It opens your eyes to tease and relish in childishness. She raised a brow and looked about the room.... "You left rum for Ghede and Maman yes?" She wanted to make sure his loas wouldn't get jealous the old woman at the little shop would have tanned her hide and his too had she though the proper offerings weren't made.... he spoke, "Peppers are spicy, and Ghede is a greedy man... Maman Brigit she bless many who can't sleep." His voice... the way he said Maman Brigitmade her remember, she flashed her eyes wide... the little woman at the store... she told him what she told her, maybe he would understand, she mimiced the old womans voice with amazing accuracy, "The old woman at the place that found me after I hurt the people she said, 'Little girl- Maman Brigit she look over you tonight and you best watch she has plans.' I don't really know what she ment."
To the meeting's end,
You, my enemy,
Are now my friend,
He answered her like she had hoped, "Legba open gates... you walked through and saw. See saw, see saw. Picked up a hammer and saw." She chuckled softly and held him protectivly. Singing to him a poem.... something she remembered when everything else was fuzzy... and he looked at her one last time as he fell into a deep slumber. She tossed a blanket over both of them and curling herself against him she dreamed Of shoes,and ships,and sealing wax, of cabbages, and kings.
Oh, I see said the blind man,
As he picked up his hammer and saw.
http://tokentales.livejournal.com/22257.html#cutid1
One fine day in the middle of the night,
Two dead boys got up to fight,
Back to Back they faced each other,
Drew their swords and shot each other-
The house was quiet when she got home, she droped her bags in the doorway calling for Papa.... the dark loomed and figures she could barely make out of the shadows lurked there waiting... faces and other things lurking there, but as she focused her senses she knew that the only consciousnes around her were Papa, Dexter and herself.... the others all just figments of her imagination. Projections of the hundreds of voices she heard in the dark. Dexter moved she knew he was coming, and spoke in his thick accent, "He has not been out of his room..." She nodded letting the quiet man return to his buisness, and she wandered upstairs to Papa's room. The music she heard entranced her and she called to him, his consciousness so faint she worried and holding her silver necklace tightly in one hand and the the locked dorrknob in the other she melted it, the stinging blow of the dark leaving her bruised, but it was necessary.
One had no eyes and the other couldn't see,
So they chose the Devil for a referee.
A mute psychotic shrieked in fright
With words of joy at this ghastly sight.
The large TV played strangeness upon it and she could smell the headdy scent of opiates in the air... it was strangely soothing and familiar, she didn't mind. She breathed deeply the scent letting her senses take in the room, she spoke to Papa quietly, comfortingly, his consciousness there so she wasnt' too concerned... She watched him for a few moments, taking in his form naked and prone on the bed. She chuckled softly to herself, If men weren't ment to wear clothes they would have been born naked. She walked in bare feet steping over the needles and foils picking them up carefully as she went tidying up, "Was it really that bad of a weekend for you too?" She wandered into the bathroom and came out with a cool washcloth, "That bad." She giggled his unresponsiveness more of an answer than any words he could have said. She crawled into his bed lifting him easily then resting his head in her lap. Wiping his brow gently with the washcloth she coos to him softly humming, protectivly holding him in her arms.
A paralysed donkey passing by,
kicked the blind man in the eye,
knocked him through a missing wall,
Into a dry ditch and drowned them all,
His eyes with their otherworldly color and glazed over look she watched in facination for what seemed like hours; his angelic face bore no true emotions for quite sometimes, lost in the haze that she... remembered? She looked down to her arms and saw all the little pinpricks and wondered how they got there... more answers and yet more questions. He started talking to her in a strange mix of french... hatian most likely and she concentrated for a moment and understood and spoke to him in return.... His voice heady and a bit distant, "...so many fucks and the silence is golden." Silence... it had been so long since she had heard nothing that she understood, with perfect clarity. Cheched out for the weekend. No voices no worries.... silence is golden. He rambles on, sometimes she looses herself in his voice, just listening, "When is the next round. I am Samson, no ass but no hair." There was always a next round, but who knows when? She leaned back her head touching the wall and making a soft thung that made her happy dispite the tinge of pain, "I don't know when the next round is, but the walls here are hard and that is a good thing." He reached up idily teasingly and batted at her dreads.... she chuckled softly as he continued, "Big money, magic prizes. Walls are good, walls are needed. Stupid, stupid, stupid."
A deaf policeman heard the noise,
and came to kill those two dead boys,
If You don't think my tale is tall,
Ask the blind man he saw it all
She held him cloes and spoke back to him, everything making so much sense in her world, everything in that moment crystal clear.... except for nothing was stupid, just varing levels of insanity. "All depends on how much for keeps you're playing.... what's stupid?" He spoke back to her with words she knew she would never quite understand because for right now in this moment he was like her, everything making perfect sense to him in his own world, but to her and any he spoke to they would always wonder, but she didn't. He made sense to himself and she could understand. Though his words did make her think and she spoke as best she could as it was only proper as he was speaking to her as best he could, "You could be dead I suppose... and I could still be in the asylum...." His response tickled her, his laughter spreading a strange joy, "You don't have your eyes anymore Ghede. Are you here for my other one?" He laughed untill he coughed and so did she.... she picked him up just a bit as he started coughing he was laughing so hard, she responded, "Noone is here for eyes... I like yours in your head.... They look better that way."
And the narrator,
With his story untold,
Meekly whispered,
Loud and bold,
The beginning words,
She giggled softly teasing him with her dreads tickling his nose, "And when morning comes you will only wish Ghede had taken you.... " Unfortunatly she knew the toll to pay would be a hard one.... He sang to her the strangest song... she had never heard it vulgar that it was she thought she should have heard it... she laughed as he tried to catch her dreads in his teeth. Letting him sometimes. He was playing and like all cats they played, and she liked it when he did. It opens your eyes to tease and relish in childishness. She raised a brow and looked about the room.... "You left rum for Ghede and Maman yes?" She wanted to make sure his loas wouldn't get jealous the old woman at the little shop would have tanned her hide and his too had she though the proper offerings weren't made.... he spoke, "Peppers are spicy, and Ghede is a greedy man... Maman Brigit she bless many who can't sleep." His voice... the way he said Maman Brigitmade her remember, she flashed her eyes wide... the little woman at the store... she told him what she told her, maybe he would understand, she mimiced the old womans voice with amazing accuracy, "The old woman at the place that found me after I hurt the people she said, 'Little girl- Maman Brigit she look over you tonight and you best watch she has plans.' I don't really know what she ment."
To the meeting's end,
You, my enemy,
Are now my friend,
He answered her like she had hoped, "Legba open gates... you walked through and saw. See saw, see saw. Picked up a hammer and saw." She chuckled softly and held him protectivly. Singing to him a poem.... something she remembered when everything else was fuzzy... and he looked at her one last time as he fell into a deep slumber. She tossed a blanket over both of them and curling herself against him she dreamed Of shoes,and ships,and sealing wax, of cabbages, and kings.
Oh, I see said the blind man,
As he picked up his hammer and saw.