{{I tried writing more of my other stories, but...I just couldn't get back into them. They were all started before I went to work, and I either can't remember where I was going with them, or don't suffer the problems I was using that story to work through. So, here's a brand new story, discussing present problems. [Mostly sleeplessness and hatred of my lovely new job.]
For once, I am writing a story that does not [or most likely will not] inevitably fall to starring Dirandau. It annoys me that none of the characters on the list to choose from are Dragonslayers, but oh well.
Umm...I apologize in advance for Gatty's dialect. It's a little hard to understand, and probably seems pointless to even add in. However, that's how I talk when I sleep, so I thought I'd take out my anger on the confusion of it all by writing it out.
Please enjoy this new work.
Oh...and I don't own Esca. But if I became the head of Starbucks, I bet I could. They'll own everything soon, you just wait. Just wait....}}
ETERNITY, CH. 1
Shesta laid back on his bunk, moving ever so slightly. His neck was arched, his head leaned back so that the tears would fall upon his forehead, not his cheeks. His hair would cover it then.
But he didn't talk. It wasn't necessary to say.
Gatty lay on his bed, curled over in sickness. Everytime he moved, he felt the whole world move with him. It made him feel less lonely, in a way.
He felt slipshod, picturing his feet sliding as he placed them on the floor. He wasn't sure about trying to get up. The uncertainty of his ability overwhelmed him to the point that he gave up and gave in to the need for sleep.
He felt a heavy weight fall upon him and then bounce off. His mind rolled over and over inside his head. Over and over and over...
It added to his present nausea.
Fa!!
His eyes opened, and he realized he was now sitting up. Oh, yes. He had sat up, of course. Now he remembered...sort of.
He held up his hand in the air to do something, presently forgetting what that something was and laying the side of his face on it. Thankfully, the other hand remembered, and began placing his boot upon his foot. As if it knew its master was in a haze and unable to care for himself. It wouldn't let him down. He had too many things to worry about without trying to take hold of simple details.
Slipshod slipshod slipshod...
A detached look was on Gatty's face. He was devoid of reality. He couldn't think straight, see straight, walk straight. Absolutely fricking normal.
He turned his head to the right, and stared at Shesta. His look...that look of his...it made Shesta cringe inwardly everytime he saw it. It reminded him subconsciously of how inhuman they all were. He hated it.
"What? Are you planning on proposition me and failing to find the right words??"
His words seemed to go unnoticed. They probably did.
"One of mail chiefs said h'llo me today," Gatty said, disregarding words at random.
"Interesting. Why?" That look stil hadn't gone away.
Gatty curled his head down a little, smirking.
"Told me I didn't look as energetic as I used to, and that t'werstaddst."
"..Say again..?" Shesta asked. Gatty became annoyed. No one liked repeating themselves in the army.
"Told me I didn't look as energetic as I used to, and tha' t'was thor'ly diss'pointed in me!"
The statement amused Gatty very much. Little things like that kept him...something close to sane.
Gatty saw himself, his arms reaching up and his forehead leaning against them as his smile grew wider. Fallen to the ground, laughing, each laugh running through him like a bolt of energy.
"You alright?" Shesta questioned him.
He was back at his original sitting position, never having moved out of it to begin with. As far as Shesta knew, he had just been sitting and staring in a lost manner.
"Of course. What thinks you make otherwise?"
The inversion of his words went unnoticed by Shesta. He often did that. When he was away from authority figures or battles, perfection was not demanded of him. He became slightly dislexic. And he didn't give a damn. He had a perfect working knowledge of grammar, and everyone knew it. That didn't mean he had to use it all the time.
"Oh, no particular reason," Shesta remarked.
He looked down at his wet pillow. Things weren't so blurry anymore. He'd be okay for awhile.
Half the Dragonslayers were in a training room. Gatty held the training log-book out for Darete to take and sign. Darete tried to grab it. Apparently, however, Gatty was much too fond of it, and continued to hold it with a harsh grip.
"...hello...?"
After a half minute or so, Gatty came to. He glared at Darete.
"T's time y' cut your fuck'ng hair," he said as he let the book pass from his hands.
"Cut it yourself, you fracking lout."
Darete smiled as he signed the book. He was never quite as tired as the others, and found himself amused by some of their doings. Especially the ever-dogged Gatty.
"Don't ask him to do that," Guimel cut in. "He'd probably cut your head off. Not that it'd be any worse than the usual trying to bite your head off."
There was a round of chuckling.
Gatty's eyes rolled into the back of his head. He snapped his teeth together.
"Fack you, y'h stupid facker...frrrrak..frrrra...arrrraa!."
Gatty gave up on his attempt to speak Gaean, and instead chose to imitate a dog ripping into it's latest kill.
"You know," Guimel began, "That wonderful statement reminds me of something from yesterday. When..al...damn, I forgot..."
Viore shook his head and crunched his eyes together.
"What are we here for again?"
Shesta giggled and said, "I think it's memory problems, but I'm not sure. I can't remember..."
Gatty looked down at the training log.
"Here for.."
His eyes went in and out of focus. He gave up and tossed the book to Shesta.
"We're here for another self-improvement session," he said, rolling his eyes. Everyone grumbled a little. The group fell to talking amidst themselves.
"Shut up! Let's get this started," Gatty commanded. "Who wants to start?"
Viore raised his hand. Gatty gave him permission to speak.
"I think that one way we could improve is to stop wasting time with these stupid meetings."
There were shouts of agreement from the others.
"They don't do us any good. They're a waste of time when we could be doing other more important things. Like training. Or sleeping."
He shook his head.
"The gods know we could all use some sleep..."
Viore paused for a moment because he was overtaken by the smirk of irony on Gatty's face. Egads, that guy was unnerving!
"How can be good at what we do if we don't get some more sleep? We've been slipping lately."
Gatty clasped his hands together, and layed his chin upon them. His eyes became dull and lifeless, and his smile faded to a flat thing line. His lecture-giving face.
"I real'ze your feelings, shera..eh...Viore. But we have to do this. Can you honestly say there is nothing we can improve upon?"
"I think we do fairly well," replied Viore.
"He still hits us. He stall ge's aggrrrvated with us. We ahn't prr'fect and y'h know't. But he depends to need on us, and we cann't."
"Can't what?"
"Slip up. Listen me if I talk. I hate repeating na'self."
There was silence a moment. Did they really need to be reminded of this situation again? They saw it every day, in everything they did. In everything -he- did. There was nothing they could do, except not talk about it. If you don't talk about it, you can't verify how bad it is.
Guimel raised his hand to speak. Gatty gave him the floor.
"I think we all need to look over our orders before carrying them out, instead of just one person giving them. Sometimes the person receiving orders verbally is misinformed because they don't understand the person giving them."
This was referring to Gatty's style of speech.
"I don't see how 't's caused problem so far. Everyone seems carry them out well enough," Gatty said.
"That's because we all sneak into your office to look at them after you read them to us," Viore added in.
Gatty's face crunched up into a glare.
"Since when do you....my office! Rrrr...that's uncalled for!"
He clenched his fists together and stared at the floor. He was now awake. Anger always did that for him. It was better than the strongest italian coffee.
"Alright," he hissed, "This is going to end here. Now. I'm tired of being disrespected like this all the time, damnit. That office is off limits to anyone except myself, Shesta, and Lord Dirandau. If I catch any of you in there without one of us accompanying," his voice took on a dangerous tone, "There will be consequences. Every morning I go in there, I find my papers out of order. I really wouldn't care, but Lord Dirandau goes in there all the time as well. And he can't stand it when something he needs isn't immediately found."
Every punishment he'd received for that same mistake came to mind at once.
"Then how are we supposed to understand what we're supposed to do?" asked Viore.
"Ask me to repeat anything you don't understand. I'd rather you do that than cause disorder."
Viore glared in silence. After all the times that he'd stated how much he hates repeating himself, how could he expect them to take him up on that?
After a moment, Gatty called out, "Is that understood?"
All replied, "Yes, sir," in unison.
"Next order of business?"
The meeting ran on for about two hours. Everyone had stopped volunteering problems after a half hour had gone by, but Gatty had plenty more to supply them with. They grit their teeth and reminded themselves that this would help them to be better aids to their lord, their sole purpose in life
Later, Gatty had his own personal improvement session with Dirandau. It was great fun. There was the usual yelling and berating, the hits, the insults, the horrid looks. The usual.
It often seemed to Gatty that Dirandau didn't even view him as his own self, but as someone else. Whoever it was, he obviously hated that person and wasn't allowed to kill them. It gave him something to ponder instead of concentrating on his present sufferings.
"You will be what I tell you to be. Whether or not you do that willingly is of no consequence. You aren't doing your best. I know you can do better, and I intend to see to it that you do."
"Yes, sir!"
After Dirandau was finished with him, it was Shesta's turn to go into the lion's den, as they often times called it. Shesta didn't nearly have it so bad as Gatty, though. For some reason, Dirandau had taken a liking to him. More likely than not, it had something to do with the 'missions' that Dirandau often sent him on. Unofficial dealings weren't allowed in Zaibach. So, what better way to ensure that someone would keep quiet about them than to treat him very nicely? One certainly wouldn't want to ruin such a good set-up by talking. That would be ultimately stupid. Besides the fact that one would lose his good position, no other commander would trust you ever again in your career.
And now it was time to turn out the lights. Gatty hurled himself upon the bed, and fell immediately asleep.
Another end to a perfectly normal day.
{{Okay, there will be updates to this one, for sure. ^_^ I need to write again.}}
For once, I am writing a story that does not [or most likely will not] inevitably fall to starring Dirandau. It annoys me that none of the characters on the list to choose from are Dragonslayers, but oh well.
Umm...I apologize in advance for Gatty's dialect. It's a little hard to understand, and probably seems pointless to even add in. However, that's how I talk when I sleep, so I thought I'd take out my anger on the confusion of it all by writing it out.
Please enjoy this new work.
Oh...and I don't own Esca. But if I became the head of Starbucks, I bet I could. They'll own everything soon, you just wait. Just wait....}}
ETERNITY, CH. 1
Shesta laid back on his bunk, moving ever so slightly. His neck was arched, his head leaned back so that the tears would fall upon his forehead, not his cheeks. His hair would cover it then.
But he didn't talk. It wasn't necessary to say.
Gatty lay on his bed, curled over in sickness. Everytime he moved, he felt the whole world move with him. It made him feel less lonely, in a way.
He felt slipshod, picturing his feet sliding as he placed them on the floor. He wasn't sure about trying to get up. The uncertainty of his ability overwhelmed him to the point that he gave up and gave in to the need for sleep.
He felt a heavy weight fall upon him and then bounce off. His mind rolled over and over inside his head. Over and over and over...
It added to his present nausea.
Fa!!
His eyes opened, and he realized he was now sitting up. Oh, yes. He had sat up, of course. Now he remembered...sort of.
He held up his hand in the air to do something, presently forgetting what that something was and laying the side of his face on it. Thankfully, the other hand remembered, and began placing his boot upon his foot. As if it knew its master was in a haze and unable to care for himself. It wouldn't let him down. He had too many things to worry about without trying to take hold of simple details.
Slipshod slipshod slipshod...
A detached look was on Gatty's face. He was devoid of reality. He couldn't think straight, see straight, walk straight. Absolutely fricking normal.
He turned his head to the right, and stared at Shesta. His look...that look of his...it made Shesta cringe inwardly everytime he saw it. It reminded him subconsciously of how inhuman they all were. He hated it.
"What? Are you planning on proposition me and failing to find the right words??"
His words seemed to go unnoticed. They probably did.
"One of mail chiefs said h'llo me today," Gatty said, disregarding words at random.
"Interesting. Why?" That look stil hadn't gone away.
Gatty curled his head down a little, smirking.
"Told me I didn't look as energetic as I used to, and that t'werstaddst."
"..Say again..?" Shesta asked. Gatty became annoyed. No one liked repeating themselves in the army.
"Told me I didn't look as energetic as I used to, and tha' t'was thor'ly diss'pointed in me!"
The statement amused Gatty very much. Little things like that kept him...something close to sane.
Gatty saw himself, his arms reaching up and his forehead leaning against them as his smile grew wider. Fallen to the ground, laughing, each laugh running through him like a bolt of energy.
"You alright?" Shesta questioned him.
He was back at his original sitting position, never having moved out of it to begin with. As far as Shesta knew, he had just been sitting and staring in a lost manner.
"Of course. What thinks you make otherwise?"
The inversion of his words went unnoticed by Shesta. He often did that. When he was away from authority figures or battles, perfection was not demanded of him. He became slightly dislexic. And he didn't give a damn. He had a perfect working knowledge of grammar, and everyone knew it. That didn't mean he had to use it all the time.
"Oh, no particular reason," Shesta remarked.
He looked down at his wet pillow. Things weren't so blurry anymore. He'd be okay for awhile.
Half the Dragonslayers were in a training room. Gatty held the training log-book out for Darete to take and sign. Darete tried to grab it. Apparently, however, Gatty was much too fond of it, and continued to hold it with a harsh grip.
"...hello...?"
After a half minute or so, Gatty came to. He glared at Darete.
"T's time y' cut your fuck'ng hair," he said as he let the book pass from his hands.
"Cut it yourself, you fracking lout."
Darete smiled as he signed the book. He was never quite as tired as the others, and found himself amused by some of their doings. Especially the ever-dogged Gatty.
"Don't ask him to do that," Guimel cut in. "He'd probably cut your head off. Not that it'd be any worse than the usual trying to bite your head off."
There was a round of chuckling.
Gatty's eyes rolled into the back of his head. He snapped his teeth together.
"Fack you, y'h stupid facker...frrrrak..frrrra...arrrraa!."
Gatty gave up on his attempt to speak Gaean, and instead chose to imitate a dog ripping into it's latest kill.
"You know," Guimel began, "That wonderful statement reminds me of something from yesterday. When..al...damn, I forgot..."
Viore shook his head and crunched his eyes together.
"What are we here for again?"
Shesta giggled and said, "I think it's memory problems, but I'm not sure. I can't remember..."
Gatty looked down at the training log.
"Here for.."
His eyes went in and out of focus. He gave up and tossed the book to Shesta.
"We're here for another self-improvement session," he said, rolling his eyes. Everyone grumbled a little. The group fell to talking amidst themselves.
"Shut up! Let's get this started," Gatty commanded. "Who wants to start?"
Viore raised his hand. Gatty gave him permission to speak.
"I think that one way we could improve is to stop wasting time with these stupid meetings."
There were shouts of agreement from the others.
"They don't do us any good. They're a waste of time when we could be doing other more important things. Like training. Or sleeping."
He shook his head.
"The gods know we could all use some sleep..."
Viore paused for a moment because he was overtaken by the smirk of irony on Gatty's face. Egads, that guy was unnerving!
"How can be good at what we do if we don't get some more sleep? We've been slipping lately."
Gatty clasped his hands together, and layed his chin upon them. His eyes became dull and lifeless, and his smile faded to a flat thing line. His lecture-giving face.
"I real'ze your feelings, shera..eh...Viore. But we have to do this. Can you honestly say there is nothing we can improve upon?"
"I think we do fairly well," replied Viore.
"He still hits us. He stall ge's aggrrrvated with us. We ahn't prr'fect and y'h know't. But he depends to need on us, and we cann't."
"Can't what?"
"Slip up. Listen me if I talk. I hate repeating na'self."
There was silence a moment. Did they really need to be reminded of this situation again? They saw it every day, in everything they did. In everything -he- did. There was nothing they could do, except not talk about it. If you don't talk about it, you can't verify how bad it is.
Guimel raised his hand to speak. Gatty gave him the floor.
"I think we all need to look over our orders before carrying them out, instead of just one person giving them. Sometimes the person receiving orders verbally is misinformed because they don't understand the person giving them."
This was referring to Gatty's style of speech.
"I don't see how 't's caused problem so far. Everyone seems carry them out well enough," Gatty said.
"That's because we all sneak into your office to look at them after you read them to us," Viore added in.
Gatty's face crunched up into a glare.
"Since when do you....my office! Rrrr...that's uncalled for!"
He clenched his fists together and stared at the floor. He was now awake. Anger always did that for him. It was better than the strongest italian coffee.
"Alright," he hissed, "This is going to end here. Now. I'm tired of being disrespected like this all the time, damnit. That office is off limits to anyone except myself, Shesta, and Lord Dirandau. If I catch any of you in there without one of us accompanying," his voice took on a dangerous tone, "There will be consequences. Every morning I go in there, I find my papers out of order. I really wouldn't care, but Lord Dirandau goes in there all the time as well. And he can't stand it when something he needs isn't immediately found."
Every punishment he'd received for that same mistake came to mind at once.
"Then how are we supposed to understand what we're supposed to do?" asked Viore.
"Ask me to repeat anything you don't understand. I'd rather you do that than cause disorder."
Viore glared in silence. After all the times that he'd stated how much he hates repeating himself, how could he expect them to take him up on that?
After a moment, Gatty called out, "Is that understood?"
All replied, "Yes, sir," in unison.
"Next order of business?"
The meeting ran on for about two hours. Everyone had stopped volunteering problems after a half hour had gone by, but Gatty had plenty more to supply them with. They grit their teeth and reminded themselves that this would help them to be better aids to their lord, their sole purpose in life
Later, Gatty had his own personal improvement session with Dirandau. It was great fun. There was the usual yelling and berating, the hits, the insults, the horrid looks. The usual.
It often seemed to Gatty that Dirandau didn't even view him as his own self, but as someone else. Whoever it was, he obviously hated that person and wasn't allowed to kill them. It gave him something to ponder instead of concentrating on his present sufferings.
"You will be what I tell you to be. Whether or not you do that willingly is of no consequence. You aren't doing your best. I know you can do better, and I intend to see to it that you do."
"Yes, sir!"
After Dirandau was finished with him, it was Shesta's turn to go into the lion's den, as they often times called it. Shesta didn't nearly have it so bad as Gatty, though. For some reason, Dirandau had taken a liking to him. More likely than not, it had something to do with the 'missions' that Dirandau often sent him on. Unofficial dealings weren't allowed in Zaibach. So, what better way to ensure that someone would keep quiet about them than to treat him very nicely? One certainly wouldn't want to ruin such a good set-up by talking. That would be ultimately stupid. Besides the fact that one would lose his good position, no other commander would trust you ever again in your career.
And now it was time to turn out the lights. Gatty hurled himself upon the bed, and fell immediately asleep.
Another end to a perfectly normal day.
{{Okay, there will be updates to this one, for sure. ^_^ I need to write again.}}