Title: Leaving?
Author: the random monkey
Date: March 18, 2004
Author's notes: Ugh. I know these chapters aren't terribly interesting- at least, they weren't to write. To be honest, I've added to this story, and it's going to be longer than I thought, but it's gonna make more sense. Just bear with me. The good stuff's coming.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
And if you'll be my bodyguard,
I can be your long-lost pal.
I can call you Betty,
And Betty, when you call me, you can call me Al.
-Paul Simon, "You Can Call Me Al"
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"I'm sorry you have to do this," 314 said. He was leaning against a tree near a small stream, idly playing with his belt and watching Mr. 286 work. The B type was scrubbing 314's pants, trying to remove a brown stain from their seat.
Mr. 286 paused from his scrubbing to dry off a finger on his own pants and write a message: It's not your fault. You were too sick to move; how could you have gone outside to relieve yourself?
"I know," 314 said, sighing. "It's still embarrassing, though."
Mr. 286 looked at him questioningly.
"Oh. That's sort of... sad and angry that something happened, but at yourself, because you wish it hadn't happened. Does that make any sense?" 314 asked, and 286 nodded.
314 went back to playing with his belt. He's so nice. He could have left any time, but instead he stayed and took care of me... Somehow... that just makes me feel good. I wish there was something I could do to show how much I appreciate it...
286 finished scrubbing 314's pants and hung them over a tree branch to dry, then gestured 314 over to him.
Sighing again, 314 scooted to the edge of the river and held out his left arm to Mr. 286, who carefully unwrapped the strip of purple cloth wrapped around it. He looked at the stump, then looked up at 314 with a big smile.
Curious, 314 awkwardly bent his arm toward himself so he could see the stump. "Hey!" he exclaimed, then looked up and grinned at Mr. 286. "There's no white stuff!" Now there was just a large section of dry, rough skin covering the wound.
Mr. 286 gently pulled 314's arm back. 314 let Mr. 286 wash it. "This is wonderful," he murmured as Mr. 286 worked. "We can finally start travelling."
Mr. 286 stopped in mid-scrub, looking up at 314, a strange, mixed expression on his face.
"What?" asked 314, suddenly worried he had done something wrong.
Mr. 286 sighed silently, then dried one hand on his coat and wrote a message: I've been thinking about that. Where will we go?
314 frowned as he read the message. "What do you mean?"
Mr. 286 paused, thinking, then wrote another message: Where are we travelling to?
"Well-" 314 began, then stopped, realizing to his surprise that he hadn't ever considered it. "Um...."
Because we could stay here, Mr. 286 continued. We have food and shelter and water. We don't need to go anywhere else.
314 stared at the words, suddenly lost deep in thought. We don't have to leave. But I want to leave. But why do I want to leave?
Mr. 286 tugged gently on his sleeve to get his attention, a look of concern on his face.
"Um..." 314 began. "I... I'm confused right now. I think... I need to think about it."
Mr. 286 nodded, then went back to washing and bandaging 314's arm. After he finished, he left to find food, leaving 314 alone with his thoughts. Ther was a lot to think about.
When I first escaped, I wanted to get away from humans. I jumped in the telepod and warped until I got past the mountains, then I started walking... I haven't seen a human since on the airship. But does that mean they're not around? Should we stay here until we find out, or should we travel until we find some place where we know humans can't find us?
But is there even such a place? And where would it be? And how would we know how to get there?
He stayed lost in thought as Mr. 286 returned and helped him stand and put on his still-damp pants, then walk back to their shelter. Where would we go? I just feel like it's... right to keep travelling... I wonder why...
He was interrupted by Mr. 286 suddenly stopping and poking him to get his attention.
"Wha-" he started, but Mr. 286 clapped a hand over the A-type's mouth and pointed. 314's eyes followed Mr. 286's arm, his eyes quickly picking out the source of Mr. 286's uneasiness. Their shelter was a short distance away, and there, examining it, was a Black mage- a C-type, without his armor but with his staff and what looked like several pouches hanging by strings over his shoulder.
314 gasped, even more thoughts entering his already crowded mind, and watched the mage poke the still-unaware 287 a few times, then sit down in the shelter and look around. What is it doing here? Is it safe to go near? Why is it in our shelter?
"What should we do?" 314 asked quietly, looking to Mr. 286.
At first, Mr. 286 didn't seem to have heard the question, but after a moment he squatted down, cleared a patch of ground, and wrote, It looks like he's awake. I think we should talk to him.
314 nodded as Mr. 286 stood up, and together they walked into view of the shelter.
"Hm," he said, studying the mage sitting in the shelter. "So, you don't, um, talk?"
The mage remained silent, staring blankly ahead.
"Hm," he repeated, more to himself than the other. "It looks like you're unaware. But, um, if you're not awake, then how could you build this shelter?" He sat down to think about it, but was distracted by the dirt floor of the shelter, where fragments of words could be seen.
"Hn," he said, moving to look at them better. "Awake... wh... Looks like white... ter... 4... I wonder what that means?"
His studies were interrupted by a hoarse voice. "Excuse me, sir," it said. "What are you doing in our shelter?"
He jumped, startled, and turned towards the entrance and the two Black Mages who stood outside. "Oh, hi!" he said cheerfully. "I, uh, didn't know anyone but him-" he pointed to the staring mage- "lived here." He stood and tried to exit, but tripped over one of the staring mage's legs and crashed into the two mages outside.
"Oh! I'm so sorry!" he said, scrambling to his feet and helping the others do the same.
"It's okay," said one, an A-type. His clothes were stained and torn, and he seemed too thin for an A-type. "We were just surprised to see someone in our shelter... Especially another Black Mage." He cocked his head to the side. "I'm 314, this is Mr. 286-" he pointed to the equally dissheveled B-type standing next to him- "And that's Mr. 287." He pointed to the staring mage, who still didn't react.
"Nice to meet you! Um, I'm 73."
There was an uncomfortable silence. Then the B-type, Mr. 286, kneeled down and wrote in the dirt. Did you just wake up?
73 frowned, looking at the message, then back up at Mr. 286. "Why don't you just, um, ask me?"
"He can't talk," explained 314.
"Why?" 73 asked, studying Mr. 286. "Is his head broken, or something?"
HEY! scribbled Mr. 286.
"I don't know why," said Mr. 314. "He never told me; he said he doesn't like to think about it."
"Oh," said 73. "Um... Can you understand me?" he asked Mr. 286, making sure to speak slowly and loudly.
Yes, wrote Mr. 286, an angry expression on his face, and I'd like you to answer my question.
"Oh," 73 said, looking back to the original message. "Um... No, I've been awake for a while. Oh! That's um, why I'm here! I came back to help others!"
"Came back?" asked Mr. 314, looking confused.
"Yeah!" exclaimed 73, now excited. "I, um, came back to find others- um, others who woke up- and guide them to the village!"
"Village?!" exclaimed Mr. 314, and both he and Mr. 286 backed away.
"Oh! Don't be scared!" 73 said quickly, sensing the reason for their apprehension. "It's, um, not a human village. Only Black Mages!"
The two just stared at him. 73, not sure they had heard, Began to repeat himself. "It's not a human-"
"We heard you," said Mr. 314 softly. "Y-you mean... there's a place... with just Black Mages?"
"Yeah! Isn't it great?" said 73. "It's, uh, tough to find, so the humans can't get there, but, uh, I came back to see if there were any mages who woke up, and, uh, wanted to come."
"Of course we want to come!" cried Mr. 314 loudly, suddenly grinning broadly. Mr. 286 sank to the ground, his shoulders shaking, and 73 couldn't tell if he was laughing or crying.
Author: the random monkey
Date: March 18, 2004
Author's notes: Ugh. I know these chapters aren't terribly interesting- at least, they weren't to write. To be honest, I've added to this story, and it's going to be longer than I thought, but it's gonna make more sense. Just bear with me. The good stuff's coming.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
And if you'll be my bodyguard,
I can be your long-lost pal.
I can call you Betty,
And Betty, when you call me, you can call me Al.
-Paul Simon, "You Can Call Me Al"
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"I'm sorry you have to do this," 314 said. He was leaning against a tree near a small stream, idly playing with his belt and watching Mr. 286 work. The B type was scrubbing 314's pants, trying to remove a brown stain from their seat.
Mr. 286 paused from his scrubbing to dry off a finger on his own pants and write a message: It's not your fault. You were too sick to move; how could you have gone outside to relieve yourself?
"I know," 314 said, sighing. "It's still embarrassing, though."
Mr. 286 looked at him questioningly.
"Oh. That's sort of... sad and angry that something happened, but at yourself, because you wish it hadn't happened. Does that make any sense?" 314 asked, and 286 nodded.
314 went back to playing with his belt. He's so nice. He could have left any time, but instead he stayed and took care of me... Somehow... that just makes me feel good. I wish there was something I could do to show how much I appreciate it...
286 finished scrubbing 314's pants and hung them over a tree branch to dry, then gestured 314 over to him.
Sighing again, 314 scooted to the edge of the river and held out his left arm to Mr. 286, who carefully unwrapped the strip of purple cloth wrapped around it. He looked at the stump, then looked up at 314 with a big smile.
Curious, 314 awkwardly bent his arm toward himself so he could see the stump. "Hey!" he exclaimed, then looked up and grinned at Mr. 286. "There's no white stuff!" Now there was just a large section of dry, rough skin covering the wound.
Mr. 286 gently pulled 314's arm back. 314 let Mr. 286 wash it. "This is wonderful," he murmured as Mr. 286 worked. "We can finally start travelling."
Mr. 286 stopped in mid-scrub, looking up at 314, a strange, mixed expression on his face.
"What?" asked 314, suddenly worried he had done something wrong.
Mr. 286 sighed silently, then dried one hand on his coat and wrote a message: I've been thinking about that. Where will we go?
314 frowned as he read the message. "What do you mean?"
Mr. 286 paused, thinking, then wrote another message: Where are we travelling to?
"Well-" 314 began, then stopped, realizing to his surprise that he hadn't ever considered it. "Um...."
Because we could stay here, Mr. 286 continued. We have food and shelter and water. We don't need to go anywhere else.
314 stared at the words, suddenly lost deep in thought. We don't have to leave. But I want to leave. But why do I want to leave?
Mr. 286 tugged gently on his sleeve to get his attention, a look of concern on his face.
"Um..." 314 began. "I... I'm confused right now. I think... I need to think about it."
Mr. 286 nodded, then went back to washing and bandaging 314's arm. After he finished, he left to find food, leaving 314 alone with his thoughts. Ther was a lot to think about.
When I first escaped, I wanted to get away from humans. I jumped in the telepod and warped until I got past the mountains, then I started walking... I haven't seen a human since on the airship. But does that mean they're not around? Should we stay here until we find out, or should we travel until we find some place where we know humans can't find us?
But is there even such a place? And where would it be? And how would we know how to get there?
He stayed lost in thought as Mr. 286 returned and helped him stand and put on his still-damp pants, then walk back to their shelter. Where would we go? I just feel like it's... right to keep travelling... I wonder why...
He was interrupted by Mr. 286 suddenly stopping and poking him to get his attention.
"Wha-" he started, but Mr. 286 clapped a hand over the A-type's mouth and pointed. 314's eyes followed Mr. 286's arm, his eyes quickly picking out the source of Mr. 286's uneasiness. Their shelter was a short distance away, and there, examining it, was a Black mage- a C-type, without his armor but with his staff and what looked like several pouches hanging by strings over his shoulder.
314 gasped, even more thoughts entering his already crowded mind, and watched the mage poke the still-unaware 287 a few times, then sit down in the shelter and look around. What is it doing here? Is it safe to go near? Why is it in our shelter?
"What should we do?" 314 asked quietly, looking to Mr. 286.
At first, Mr. 286 didn't seem to have heard the question, but after a moment he squatted down, cleared a patch of ground, and wrote, It looks like he's awake. I think we should talk to him.
314 nodded as Mr. 286 stood up, and together they walked into view of the shelter.
"Hm," he said, studying the mage sitting in the shelter. "So, you don't, um, talk?"
The mage remained silent, staring blankly ahead.
"Hm," he repeated, more to himself than the other. "It looks like you're unaware. But, um, if you're not awake, then how could you build this shelter?" He sat down to think about it, but was distracted by the dirt floor of the shelter, where fragments of words could be seen.
"Hn," he said, moving to look at them better. "Awake... wh... Looks like white... ter... 4... I wonder what that means?"
His studies were interrupted by a hoarse voice. "Excuse me, sir," it said. "What are you doing in our shelter?"
He jumped, startled, and turned towards the entrance and the two Black Mages who stood outside. "Oh, hi!" he said cheerfully. "I, uh, didn't know anyone but him-" he pointed to the staring mage- "lived here." He stood and tried to exit, but tripped over one of the staring mage's legs and crashed into the two mages outside.
"Oh! I'm so sorry!" he said, scrambling to his feet and helping the others do the same.
"It's okay," said one, an A-type. His clothes were stained and torn, and he seemed too thin for an A-type. "We were just surprised to see someone in our shelter... Especially another Black Mage." He cocked his head to the side. "I'm 314, this is Mr. 286-" he pointed to the equally dissheveled B-type standing next to him- "And that's Mr. 287." He pointed to the staring mage, who still didn't react.
"Nice to meet you! Um, I'm 73."
There was an uncomfortable silence. Then the B-type, Mr. 286, kneeled down and wrote in the dirt. Did you just wake up?
73 frowned, looking at the message, then back up at Mr. 286. "Why don't you just, um, ask me?"
"He can't talk," explained 314.
"Why?" 73 asked, studying Mr. 286. "Is his head broken, or something?"
HEY! scribbled Mr. 286.
"I don't know why," said Mr. 314. "He never told me; he said he doesn't like to think about it."
"Oh," said 73. "Um... Can you understand me?" he asked Mr. 286, making sure to speak slowly and loudly.
Yes, wrote Mr. 286, an angry expression on his face, and I'd like you to answer my question.
"Oh," 73 said, looking back to the original message. "Um... No, I've been awake for a while. Oh! That's um, why I'm here! I came back to help others!"
"Came back?" asked Mr. 314, looking confused.
"Yeah!" exclaimed 73, now excited. "I, um, came back to find others- um, others who woke up- and guide them to the village!"
"Village?!" exclaimed Mr. 314, and both he and Mr. 286 backed away.
"Oh! Don't be scared!" 73 said quickly, sensing the reason for their apprehension. "It's, um, not a human village. Only Black Mages!"
The two just stared at him. 73, not sure they had heard, Began to repeat himself. "It's not a human-"
"We heard you," said Mr. 314 softly. "Y-you mean... there's a place... with just Black Mages?"
"Yeah! Isn't it great?" said 73. "It's, uh, tough to find, so the humans can't get there, but, uh, I came back to see if there were any mages who woke up, and, uh, wanted to come."
"Of course we want to come!" cried Mr. 314 loudly, suddenly grinning broadly. Mr. 286 sank to the ground, his shoulders shaking, and 73 couldn't tell if he was laughing or crying.