~AN~ *singing* Good morning to you, good morning to you! We're---
Bass: *backhands her*
Ow.
Bass: Sing again and I swear I'll throw you out the window.
*muttergrumble* Ahem. Hi, everyone. Obviously I'm feeling a bit…um…loony. It's raining here, and the entire outer world is cloaked in a thick sheet of grey. Which is a poetic way of saying that IT'S CRUMMY OUTSIDE! *ahems again* So I'm feeling a bit under the weather…and showing it by acting weird, I guess.
Bass: Put up the blasted theory already.
Fine, you impatient metal-covered brute. *humph* On to the theory.
Bass: What did you call me?
Nightmaren Theory Num. 3: Fashion And Other Things
To have, or not to have, that is the question. For whether 'tis nobler to give in to the insistence of more experienced obsessors, or to cling valiantly to one's own ideals, and---
Bass: WHAT did you call me?
Okay, heck with Shakespeare. The point is that some nightmaren have hair, and some don't. If you've read any of my stuff, you're probably aware that mine do. Why? Three reasons.
1. Can you imagine a bald NiGHTS?
2. The first picture I saw of NiGHTS was a fan work of him with hair, so now he looks strange to me without it.
3. What the heck.
These aren't very good reasons, I'm afeard, but then I never was very good at debate. (Would very probably flunk the class.) In my stories, Nightmare has a vaguely 'human' side---maren's clothes aren't part of their bodies, sweat and blood and all that other nice stuff isn't absent, they aren't just energy but made of flesh and bone, they use weapons and not just paraloops, et cetera yadda yah. Ergo, they have hair, excepting Apathy who's an exception.
AC: Yeesh, that sounded redundant.
Yeah. So…hair's here. *blink* And…that just took approximately seven paragraphs to explain something that wasn't even worth explaining. … I think the fog's getting to me. I have nothing witty to sum it all up with.
Bass: And this is different from the norm---how?
Okay, I now have a plan of action. I am going to go chase a certain maverick yelling insults, and let you poor people finally read the chapter. Now before I lose my train of thought yet again I'll go and do whatever I said I was going to do. What did I say I was going to do?
AC: Eat peaches.
Yeah…I think…this weather is really wacking me out. Get over here so I can give you a good backhander, Bass.
Disclaimer: *various sounds of chaos*
What's madness but nobility of soul
At odds with circumstance? The day's on fire!
I know the purity of pure despair,
My shadow pinned against a sweating wall.
That place among the rocks---is it a cave,
Or winding path? The edge is all I have…
Dark, dark my light, and darker my desire.
My soul, like some heat-maddened summer fly,
Keeps buzzing at the sill. Which I is I?
A fallen man, I climb out of my fear…
In A Dark Time, by Theodore Roethke
Chapter Six:
But A Servant When He Reigneth
On the ground floor, the younger maren were awake and heading for the Dining Hall. The first arrivals were greeted with a bright grin.
"It seems you guys come earlier and earlier!" laughed the girl who was nearly done putting out the platters of food, also the owner of the smile.
"That's because we have your food to look forward to, Chaotica!" returned Nyct.
"Yeah, we can't wait to get it over with," added a boy just coming in. Nyct shot him a chastising glance, but Chaotica simply laughed.
"Oh, hush, Heckler," she chided. "Or else you won't get any." Turning, she pretended to stalk off in high dudgeon, her black lace shawl fluttering from where it was tied about her waist.
"Ooh, you got Chaos mad," teased another person just entering. There were several exclamations of greeting as a boy with a bandage wrapped about his arm entered.
"How's the bite, Emil?" called out someone from across the room.
The boy grinned. "Fine. Although it stings something fierce, I'll tell you…"
"Yeah, those Gao can be pretty nasty," remarked Heckler dryly.
"Oh, shut up." Emil stuck his tongue out at the brown and red maren as he took his place in line.
Noisy chatter soon filled the room as a large amount of the castle's nightmaren population came to eat. Several of the teachers were scattered among the masses, although some preferred to eat in the peace of the teacher's lounge. Luna was one of the former.
"Anything new?" she questioned as she sat. Tessa blinked casually at her.
"You're jumping the gun a bit, wouldn't you say? Most people have only been up for half an hour at most. Less, actually."
"Just wondering. A maverick golem might very well attack at night."
"Oh, so now it's maverick?" remarked Corbeau, seating himself several spaces down amid general welcome.
"Wow, a maverick golem! It's a spell-bound creature! A raving monster from the unknown!" Morgen's silver eyes flashed with the drama. "A long-forgotten beast, now prowling the night once more! A mysterious---"
"Creation of your delusional mind," cut in Luna dryly. "This was no spell-bound creature, Morgen, basically because there is no such thing. It was a golem, as far as we know, and it was acting strangely. That's cause enough for worry."
"Luna has a point there," Corbeau conceded. "Forgive me for making light of a serious situation."
"You're forgiven."
"I still don't think a weird golem is as exciting as a spell-bound rampaging creature," said Morgen to the air, pouring himself a cup of elderberry wine as he did so. "It's not half as interesting."
"But it's just as dangerous," replied Corbeau.
There was a round of head nodding at his statement. A golem, rampaging or not, was bad news.
NiGHTS smiled half-heartedly at the maren who greeted him, but his expression was not cheerful. He looked as if he'd spent a sleepless night staring out the window, judging from the tired look in his eyes; and, had his floppy not been pulled firmly onto his head, his tangled, night-breeze-swept locks would have helped give him away.
He came to Reala's door but didn't bother going in; he could feel his brother wasn't there. But where was he? NiGHTS tried to search out his brother's position, but the connection was still strangely muted. He couldn't judge where he brother was.
'It's only the price for not getting any sleep,' he thought as he made his slow way down the stairs. 'I shouldn't have stayed up like that. But I just couldn't make myself calm down.'
Shrugging, he managed to slide the slight feeling of premonition into some back corner of his mind and look ahead to his day, the wonder of what would happen masking the fear of what had. As he reached the bottom of the stairs his stride strengthened, and by the time he was at the Dining Hall the traces of worry were completely gone from his expression.
He wasn't the only one who had passed a restless night.
Jackle staggered to the balcony, pushing open the wooden door to stumble out into the open air and lean on the parapet, inhaling the dusky morning air without the usual pleasure he received. The air was heavy with promise of rain. Jackle did not notice.
He stared downwards, chest pressed against his arms as he slumped on the railing, exhausted after a night of constant worry. His breathing began to slow as he inhaled the thick mist of morning.
How are you?
'Fine,' he answered blearily, not jumping this time.
You don't feel fine.
'You're right. I don't.'
What's the matter?
'Don't you know? You seem to know everything else, you must know this!'
This?
'The secret!' he replied desperately. 'The secret I can't tell!'
The voices did not entreat him to calm down; perhaps they believed telling the panicked demi-maren to do so would only frighten him more. You can tell us.
'It's the secret I learned! Master mustn't know!'
Why not?
'He can't know, I'm not allowed in there! But if I don't tell him then he'll be raving mad once he finds out---'
How do you know he'll find out?
'He will! Master knows. He'll find it out, I know.'
Why are you so afraid of him finding out?
'He'll hurt me!' Jackle gave a mental whimper. 'Master hurts so bad…'
You seem to have some experience in this area, observed the voices.
'…he'll find out!'
Stop babbling. You need to face the rest of the world.
'I can't---'
You can. We believe in you. You can stand on your own, Jackle; you're strong. You don't have any reason to cower here. Hide it all in the back of your mind, and no one will ever find it.
'No one will ever find it,' repeated Jackle.
That's right. No one will find it. With us here you can face the world and laugh at it.
'Laugh at it?'
You can laugh in its face. Go on, laugh.
'Why?'
Laughter is power, Jackle. Laugh.
'Okay…' He inhaled and then breathed a small, nervous laugh.
No, we mean laugh! You can laugh in the face of everyone, and no one can control you---really laugh!
"Ha…ha…"
He broke off. 'I can't,' he whispered desperately. 'I just can't!'
He thought he felt them sigh, but when he focused their tone was kind. Don't worry, Jackle. Laughter will come with time. First you must learn to survive.
Straighten up, Jackle. Take a deep breath.
Tentatively he did as told, shivering slightly as he did so. 'But I…'
Straighten up more. There.
He mimicked the word. "There."
You're standing.
"Yes."
Now go out with your head high. You have the right.
"Okay…"
Slowly he began taking their advice, yawning as he reached for the doorknob. 'My, I'm tired…'
There will be time enough for sleep tonight. For now you need to go out and be yourself.
'Be myself?'
Yes. Be who you are. Good luck! And remember---laughter is the only weapon you need. Laughter is power.
He blinked as they left; then, he turned the knob and went out.
Reala stalked down the hall, busy with both grand plans of world domination and some slightly smaller articles as well, such as how to get through the unbelievably thick heads of the younger generation.
Actually, they were pretty attentive, as far as things went; it was the mish-mash of organized chaos that would be tough to work through. Things were hardly ever defined---sometimes it seemed almost as if maren just did what they wanted to do. How would they ever manage to take over the Waking World if no one even knew what they were?
Preoccupied as he was with his ponderings on organization and youth ability, he never even noticed the nightmaren that came through a door behind him and then slipped back in just as quickly as he'd exited.
NiGHTS crouched down in the shadows of the doorway, watching as his brother strode on down the hall, never even sensing him. What on earth could be so fascinating that he couldn't feel NiGHTS that close by?
Luminous violet eyes watched the Seeker General disappear around a corner, but the owner of the eyes did not leave his sheltered spot. NiGHTS was still thinking. Why hadn't Reala sensed him? Surely the connection wasn't that weak…
He concentrated, and again was rewarded with only a very faint feeling of identification, marking Reala's general position but not his exact location. That was disconcerting. It felt as if his brother was pulling farther and farther away, and he still could do nothing about it.
The deep violet eyes closed. This was beginning to become disturbing.
Jackle swept down the hallway, ignoring the stealthy looks that were thrown his way by curious maren. 'Keep your head high, keep your head high…'
"Well, if it isn't the walking talking floating head. Wait, you don't have a head any more, do you? My mistake."
'Shards…' He turned slowly to face Clawz, scanning the catmaren's eyes to try and to guess his intentions. "What is it?"
"I don't know," replied Clawz, grinning through his whiskers as he saw another insult opportunity. "I was just trying to figure that out---is it just a pair of floating gloves, or is there actually a person under there?"
Jackle's eyes flashed angrily, but he found nothing to say. Then the voices' advice came back to him. 'Laugh.'
Slowly he forced his mouth to smile, remembering to pull up his lips in a slight snarl so that his new fangs glinted in the light. Swallowing, he laughed.
It died out soon. But it was nice, that laugh; high and breathless, up and down in quick succession. He felt energized by it.
He focused his eyes upon Clawz---for some strange reason they'd become slightly unfocused when he laughed---to see the catmaren's reaction. It was startling.
Clawz was staring at him, his ears pressed flat against his skull. His red eyes were wide.
Jackle smiled. No, he grinned. Making sure to show his fangs. "You're amusing, Clawz."
The catmaren did not answer. Finally he forced his ears back into their proper position, his voice a low hissing tone. "You laugh like a psychotic hyena."
Anger bubbled up within the demi-maren, but he forced himself to keep calm. He had to hold his head high and laugh.
"Why, thank you," he replied, grinning. The grin came easier this time, and he knew his fangs were easy to see. "But I thought you were the one who was descended from animals?…"
Clawz snorted, head recoiling slightly as he did so, almost like a horse that has scented something unpleasant. He wrinkled his nose, ears twitching. "I don't…shut up." And with that he fled the hall.
Jackle was left standing alone, the victor of the battle. He hadn't run like he always did---Clawz had run. He had won.
He smiled, not bothering to show his fangs this time; for some odd reason they were visible anyway. The voices were right. Laughter was power.
Tossing back his head, he laughed.