I N F E R N O
- Dim Aldebaran -
Chapter Six
:i:
Artemis considered the screen.
"Well, write something!" Holly exclaimed.
Artemis ignored her, staring steadily ahead, considering, pondering, brooding, wondering—
Holly pushed Artemis' chair aside; being of the swivel variety, it skidded and fell over. Artemis, being of the clumsy variety, fell along with it.
Artemis was not amused. Falling from a chair was hardly a carnival ride. "Hol—Holly!"
Holly had hijacked the keyboard, and was merrily typing away. "Yes?"
"Off the computer!" he rasped, disentangling himself from the chair while trying to hold up a shelf he had knocked off balance at the same time. "This is a delicate matter!"
Holly briefly considered Artemis' situation: then turned back to the computer. "Oh look, she just insulted Achilles' parental heritage. Was he really a bastard, because I didn't think your father—"
"He didn't," Artemis said hotly, struggling to hold up the shelf, which was threatening his cranium. "Now, can you get Juliet—"
"I'll ask her if she's seen Troy," Holly responded cheerfully, fingers pattering away. "Foaly made me watch it, and I have to say, whoever played Achilles was a real—"
After sliding out of the way, he let the shelf fall down; Juliet could take care of it for him. She needed something to do besides come up with new nicknames, in any case. "Holly, don't, this is a delicate matter—"
"Oops," Holly replied.
Artemis leapt to his feet and darted towards the screen; Holly had written nothing at all. He couldn't hold back a sigh of relief. "Holly, really, that wasn't funny in the slightest—"
"Foaly says that he begs to differ," she replied, and tapped her comm piece with a grin. "He says the expression on your face is going to be his new screensaver."
Artemis scowled, recovering his chair from the wreckage. "Tell Foaly that unless he knows the perfect icebreaker, he can return to his soap operas."
Holly listened to the comm piece for a few moments. "He says to remark on the symbolism of her name; it works every time."
"Is that true?"
She grinned. "You'd be surprised."
Artemis secured himself in front of the computer: achilles42: what do you think of apsyrtus?
"Apsyrtus?"
"Medea's brother," Artemis said curtly, then added, "In mythology, of course. I have no idea about her real life—"
medeaatreus: who remembers briseis?
achilles42: rhadamanthys
"Artemis, I can't help if you don't explain any of this—"
"Briseis was one of Achilles' more memorable lovers; for her sake, Achilles nearly ended the Trojan War. Rhadamanthys judges all dead from the East, where both Achilles and Medea supposedly died."
"I still don't get it."
"Oh well."
medeaatreus: morae, why now?
achilles42: ulysses found me
"Artemis…"
Artemis shot her an annoyed look, then explained. "The Morae are the spinners of the tapestry of life; think of them as the goddesses of fate: she's surprised that she found someone so conveniently, and is asking if there's any particular reason why this is happening. Ulysses was the one who found Achilles and brought him into the Trojan war; I am saying that I was introduced to her through a third party through temptation."
"But then won't she ask who—"
"I'm hoping she won't," Artemis replied. "I don't know nearly enough about her yet—"
"What, what?" Holly demanded; Artemis cutting off his own explanation was a strange thing to here,
Artemis pointed at the screen: medeaatreus: who tore you from telemachus?
He put his head in his hands; but then jerked away from himself, agitated. Finally, he typed: achilles42: thetis; i desired the styx
Holly opened her mouth: Artemis intervened. "I'm saying that I was promised immortality by one I trusted, but it wasn't what I expected, and I am now cursed."
"But—"
"She'll like that kind of thing," Artemis replied.
Holly fidgeted in her chair. "When will you two start speaking English again?"
"This is Engl—"
"No," Holly shot back, "it's trollish as far as I'm considered. When will you two have a normal conversation?"
medeaatreus:
"She probably finds this amusing; I doubt she'll stop anytime soon."
"Well," Holly snapped, "she probably thinks this is a competition, and if she's as pigheaded as you this will never end."
"If it's a competition, I have no intention of losing."
Holly stuck her tongue out at Artemis; he smiled and returned his attention to the IM. achilles42: do you desire the parsley?
"Parsley?"
"Some variants on the original Olympic Games began as funeral games to honor dead royalty, using parsley crowns instead of laurels to show their respect for the dead. I'm implicating the death of a family member on my end."
"Mom or dad?"
Artemis scowled. "Neither, thank you."
medeaatreus: what of nepenthe?
Holly pointed at the screen excitedly. "Hey, I know that one! Nepenthe is something that makes you forget, right?"
Artemis turned and stared. "And where did you learn that one?"
Holly grinned. "Mud Man Mythology at the LEP Academy. It was the only pronounceable thing in the class, what with Minamoseena and all."
"You mean Mnemosyne?"
Holly scowled. "Isn't your girlfriend is expecting a response?"
Artemis opened his mouth to reply, then stopped. Stella lurked on his mind in a most uncomfortable manner. achilles42: lethe is just as sweet "Remember anything else from the mythology class?"
Holly pursed her lips, then turned, and inspected the books scattered on the floor behind her. After a few moments she selected one and turned, triumphant.
medeaatreus: does hypnos call?
achilles42: melpomene does
"Melpomene?"
"The Muse of tragic poetry. Definitely a patron of sorts to her; I'm making it seem as if I have the urge to write something, and I'm thinking about getting off soon."
"But don't you want to stay on as long as possible? You know, get all friendly and stuff?"
Artemis shook his head. "She'll want to talk to me more. I've intrigued her; she's interested. I seem like a reflection of herself in a mirror; she wants to reach out and see if I'm more than just that."
medeaatreus: OK
Holly smirked. "You know what they say about stupid mistakes—"
Artemis scowled. "I don't make stupid mistakes," he said hotly. "Only very, very clever ones."
Holly demonstrated grandly towards the keyboard. "Demonstrate the cleverness of your mistake, O Almighty Lord of the Keyboa—"
Artemis pushed Holly's swivel chair to the side; she spun out and fell amidst the scattered books. Amidst her scattered swearing, he found solace and typed peacefully. achilles42: when does fair eos rise?
medeaatreus: when does helios return from the chariot?
Artemis grinned slightly. "I told you so."
"That doesn't mean much when I have no idea what just happened."
"I asked her when she would be on again; she said that she'd be on whenever it is convenient for me." achilles42: when the chariot sets in circe's sky
medeaatreus: until then
achilles42: vale
He logged off.
Holly scrambled up and pounced on Artemis; the swivel chair spun out and he fell again, tangling this time in the full-length drapes. As he succeeded in bringing the entire drape complex down upon him and the swivel chair, she succeeded in conquering the computer.
"Why in Frond's name did you quit! You guys were just getting friendly—"
Artemis' head popped from the crimson drapes; it looked rather like a crumpled ladybug, black hair sticking up from a flounce of red cloth. "We are 'friendly'."
Holly brought up pinball again. "Seemed kinda nosy to be 'friendly'. 'Who sent you?' 'Why are you talking to me?' Real friendly, Artemis."
Artemis stood; the drapes wrapped about him like the robe of a king. "Genii do not treat relationships the same way as you might."
"You don't treat me like that."
He shook the drapes off, and considered the mess around him. The study looked as if his two-year-old self had come in. "You're different. You're—"
"Not a genius," Holly replied. There was no jealousy, no envy; only simple fact, clear and concise.
Somewhat pointlessly, he began stacking the scattered books on the floor, sorting by author. "Precisely. By virtue of our very intelligence, we approach relationships in a very different manner: though we crave friendship and intimacy, we are instinctually suspicious of any people who might provide such fulfillment, often rationalizing why they may prove to be inadequate or fallacious."
Holly turned from the new pinball game. "That sounded rehearsed."
Artemis looked up from the floor; his stack of Ts (Tolkien, Twain, Tolstoy) stood like the Tower of Babel. "I wrote an essay on the matter for my first grade teacher. She couldn't comprehend my hatred of 'recess'."
"Because you were 'rationalizing why they might prove inadequate'?"
"No," Artemis replied hotly, "they were inadequate, I was just being thorough with the essay—"
Holly waved this aside. "You're missing the point."
Artemis frowned, then relaxed. "Ah: you're referring to our relationship."
Holly nodded.
"Well," Artemis replied, "it's not exactly normal, is it? It doesn't fit with the generalizations; but then, that's all they are. Generalizations."
"So you don't go around making up reasons why we can't be friends."
"No," Artemis said—and then with a grin, "Though God knows it would be easy."
"I could say the same."
Artemis turned and raised a brow. "I have eight, right off the top of my head."
"Twenty-one."
"List them."
Holly sniffed. "I'd rather not. You'd never forgive me."
"I have no such qualms," Artemis replied. "For example: fewer red-heads in the gene pool."
Holly looked for something to throw: unfortunately, the nearest object, a gilt lamp, was nearly as large as her. She settled with a cherubic pout. "And why would that concern you, Monsieur Chastity?"
He tapped the side of his head. "Tape-à-l'oeil."
Holly opened her mouth, like a rose bud. "Red hair is not gaudy!" She sifted through her mind for a comeback. "Black hair—black hair looks like tar!"
Artemis grinned, and sifted through his Ds: Defoe, Dawkins, Dostoevsky. "Really? I liken it to 'a wing of night', or 'shadow-woven'."
Holly grimaced, and turned to her pinball game. The sounds were oddly out of place in the Victorian excess of the room. "You read flowery stuff like that?"
"Medea Atreus does."
"Oh, now we get back on topic."
Artemis nodded, now adding to the Ss: Steinbeck, Stevenson, Socrates. "She is a rather important matter, yes?"
Holly spun on the chair. "Fine. What is her new profile, Dr Lecter?"
Artemis considered The Brothers Karamazov. "Young; maybe even a teenager. She's not particularly wary; curious, accepting, trusting. Probably quite naïve. She probably leads a sheltered, somewhat spoiled life with benevolent parents; when she wants to travel, she travels, which would explain why a young adult would be able to travel so much. If she's not a genius, then she's at least well-read and studious. She has a practical mind; she's the sort who has little difficulty at school, but has better things to do in her own mind. She—"
"Artemis?" Holly said abruptly.
Artemis turned to face her. "Yes?"
"She sounds like you."
He blinked; Karamazov slipped through his hands, its fall well-padded by the lush carpeting. "I was never a sheltered child. She has; she fantasizes that she has had this dramatic angsty past. She idealizes things that are not beautiful things; hate, death, jealousy—"
"—greed, pride, power," Holly finished, crossing her arms.
Artemis stared at Karamazov, then shook his head. "I was influenced by a father who idealized such things."
"Maybe she's influenced by a member of a gothic heavy metal rock band who idealizes anger and violence," she continued smoothly. "The point is,
Artemis gave an exasperated sigh. "Fine. She's a teenage simulacrum of me, if that's what. Just bear in mind that I didn't fantasize; I made it real. If I wanted something, I took it."
"She stole the painting."
"She calls herself 'Medea Atreus'."
"You called yourself 'Artemis the Hunter'."
"She—" Artemis slapped Karamazov on top of the Ds; he was silent for a moment, then fast, fevered. "She's not like me. I never fancied myself some dark tragic hero; I always knew exactly what I was."
"Then you have a rare gift," Holly replied softly. She sat cross-legged, pensive. "What is it about her that bothers you so much?"
Artemis began forming the Ps: Pasternak, Pratchett, Poe. "I—I don't know. She's—" He made a scattered gesture, as if trying to pull stray thoughts from the air like clouds from the sky.
"You don't understand her."
Artemis glared, and opened his mouth to reply. "No, she's—"
"It's not through lack of trying," Holly said, and grinned through her Mahatma mask. "You don't have enough information to decipher her; so she remains the enigma. However, this enigma does not threaten your friends or family; only your pride."
Artemis seemed to fall in on himself with a graceful little sigh. "Yes, I suppose that's it." He considered Karamazov, at a tilt with the rest of the Ds; after straightening it, he lifted himself up, unfolding like black origami. "You play quite the psychologist, Holly; far superior to Po."
Holly gave a small, theatrical bow. "Actors are always better than the real thing."
Artemis paused at the door. "I'll fetch Juliet for the mess. You might want to stay out her way; she hates cleaning up after me."
"She'll be wondering what we were doing."
Artemis grinned. "I'll leave it to her imagination."
With that, he left; Holly was left at the computer with not pinball but Medea Atreus on her mind.
:i:
Heya! An update, finally. Hope you all enjoyed that.
I was trying a lighter style in this chapter; tell me how it worked. Also, I tried to show how comfortable Artemis was with Holly; how he relaxes somewhat around her, not nearly as stiff as he is in the books. Tell me how it worked. Also, if you were confused by the mythological references in the conversation with Medea Atreus, sorry. I didn't want big long explanations to everything to drag down the text; however, if there's a general consensus that there wasn't enough explanation, I'll add more in for future readers.
There'll be a section on this on my lj; feel free to respond there as well. The link is on my homepage on my bio (some people were confused as to where to find it.)
Thanks for reading! I'd love your concrit, so send it in!
