Teja son of Tagila (
ostro_goth) wrote2010-04-30 12:13 pm
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OOM: Letting Urquhart go
The day before yesterday, Teja had found Urquhart lying on his cot, wild masses of blond hair covering back and shoulder, breathing quietly, but not answering to anything Teja said. Teja had left the coffee and gone.
Yesterday, Teja had found Urquhart still lying on his cot, hiding in his hair, with the coffee sitting untouched just inside the barrier in the place where things could be passed through. Teja had exchanged the cold coffee for nice fresh hot coffee, and left.
Today, Teja finds Urquhart still on his cot, unmoving, yesterday's coffee again cold and untouched. He takes away the cold coffee, then opens the barrier and walks inside with the hot coffee in his hands. He puts it down among the mess of books, finds a place to sit beside the cot, pushes his fingers deep into the wild blond hair, shoving it out of the way and taking hold, ungently, to lift up the man's head and force him to turn and face him. "So you are, indeed, still alive," he says, disdainfully.
Yesterday, Teja had found Urquhart still lying on his cot, hiding in his hair, with the coffee sitting untouched just inside the barrier in the place where things could be passed through. Teja had exchanged the cold coffee for nice fresh hot coffee, and left.
Today, Teja finds Urquhart still on his cot, unmoving, yesterday's coffee again cold and untouched. He takes away the cold coffee, then opens the barrier and walks inside with the hot coffee in his hands. He puts it down among the mess of books, finds a place to sit beside the cot, pushes his fingers deep into the wild blond hair, shoving it out of the way and taking hold, ungently, to lift up the man's head and force him to turn and face him. "So you are, indeed, still alive," he says, disdainfully.
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He closes his eyes again.
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Beat.
"I killed him."
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"Why do you keep killing master builders and smiths?" he says. "Kill something worthwhile. A bishop. A senator. A general that stays behind and lets his men march into battle."
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He hates clerics.
His hand is still in Urquhart's hair, and he not so much ruffles is as roughly shakes the man's head.
"We're not making you any saner here, are we?"
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"No you're not," he says. "Perhaps I can learn from Malcolm how to control myself better, but not in here. In here, I can really just wander places in my head."
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"Drink your coffee."
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He breathes in the coffee, and then drinks.
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Pause.
"But that won't help you understand the reality of this place. Why there are different world, and some of them these are true, and in others, they're rubbish. You can't possibly hope you can see the whole truth?"
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Long pause.
"And every single one that comes to this place plays an important part in one of those stories that are known throughout the universe, or at least in may worlds. Weyland the smith. Valkyries. Demeter, and the rest of the pantheon of the Romans and Greeks. Yrael, and the Abhorsens. Me. You. We are all the heroes and villains, the gods and monsters of tales. Every single one here is very special in his or her own world. Enough to tell tales of them in many others. Those are the people you are up against, not the good sheeple of Cologne. Do not underestimate any one!"
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For once, he really listens, because Teja explains, instead of exhorting, most of the time.
"They fight crime," Urquhart says. "They work great amazing science. They travel between stars. They are heroic healers that fight for people's lives. That's the tales the future tells. Even wimpy little Guppy Sandhu is a hero of that sort."
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Pause.
"But you understood the principle; any misstep shall forthwith be your own fault entirely. And Demeter shall turn you into a tree if you displease her. Tread more softly, big wolf!"
Another pause.
"Pick up your books."
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