[Long Overdue Letter From THE NARRATIVE VILLAIN!]
Let's get weird.
/Finally, Actually, Factually?/
To set the stage properly, for a person who doesn't exist properly yet.
Fade In…
A sunless sky. Instead of the atmosphere being concrete and tiles above, the dim lighting is comfortable. There's a pulsing warmth inside that saturates the metro.
Advertisements, screens showcasing random diatribes of information–
Don't Litter! Emblazoned on a pillar.
Campus Security Warns: Reports Of Missing- Forcefully ignored.
There is a constant influx of beeps and chirps, announcements and videos playing out loud.
He's at– MAIN ISLAND LINE A- 01- 9:00- Morning
It's a standstill. Rush hour. Everyone is going to the Academy to get their groceries, or just not stay in the North. They're all aiming for somewhere other than here.
DRIFT past more people... Hear one snippet of audio after another.
"Actividad Litho es menos que..." A news anchors drawl leaks through...
"I WANT A GIFT CARD FROM GOD, NO RIBBON NEEDED JUST MAIL IT TO-" Blares out, before being silenced, the eyes of the crowd stare at the anxious goer, good.
…He raises the volume of his speakers. Tapping his feet on the ground as it's almost time anyway snapping his fingers to the beat switching hands to keep concentration.
A flash of light, it slowly blossoms from the barrel of the tunnel before escaping to cover all in front of it in this tunnel. Screeching with horn and halting wheel the metro stops, all is paused as only standing is allowed. Everyone braces for the announcement.
The clicks of the intercom with its latest message targeting its listeners.
MAIN ISLAND LINE A NOW ADMITTING.
The doors open. People flood out, divulging past him as he is a boulder in a stream of water.
He settles into the three flat seats. One for himself, or sort of two because he's a bit wide… which is worthwhile. Backpack, and roller broom in tow.
His blue workwear smells of chemicals further colored the stains of a rushed breakfast. He tips his cap downward to shield his eyes from the divulging information.
Back reclining, dreaming of being on his hammock again.
He's still snapping. But the beat gets drowsier.
A new singer yells into his soundtrack.
The clicks of the intercom with its latest message targeting its listeners.
MAIN Snap. ISLAND Snap. LINE Snap. A. Snap. LEAVING.
He wished they left on schedule, not early deep down, but who was he to complain?
Fumbling around with the net on the side of his backpack he fumbles around with the thermos nested, unscrewing it's cap to drink it's contents.
Spinach and Mango. Still warm. The nice mixture goes down his throat, and gives him the groovy feeling of warmth.
Snaps to that.
A wait, too long. And the pull. The machine slowly gradually pushes forward, pulling back those sitting, standing grasping anchors; from the inertia of motion.
The train is slowly rumbling forward, rocketing out of its underground sheath. Gradually more and more light coalesces at the end of the tunnel.
Looking past the window, he started caching his personal belongings, he pushes himself off the bench for another day, walking to the center of this cart.
He looked up into the ceiling almost as if he was looking at the sky and it's freedom, cap blocking all the light.
The train rumbles… the wheels clack to the ground, bumping up before falling down, almost as if it skips into the air like a fish leaping out of water, if only it could stay there.
Bricks and tunnels would be running out of coverage. There was no chance to tell the difference.
Clack. He outstretched his arms. Clack. He raised them up to praise the sun. Clack.
And right at that moment where he could feel its rays on his skin. He opened his eyes.
The light floods in just as his eyelids open, surrounding him on both sides as he enters a clear new day, small puffy clouds dot the blue atmosphere greeting him to another day of sun.
Passaggio.
To Pull. To Click.
Zoom Away…
"Ba ba da da~da da da dam dum~…" Frown. Smile. She sat and saw herself staring back and couldn't tell what she still lacked.
"That day we first met at a fair on the docks right next to the smalltown cafe. He's sweet and true but what do I still have to do?... Yes I just knew…"
"Brought him flowers, made him cakes. Every time I made him smile, it raised the stakes." That twinkle and gleam…
Jumping aloud she wants to shout in this crowd. Round and round she screamed and fought every memorized word in her head as she cast my lot. He wanted her close yet so far, always seen like the sunny star… never shooting or barred…
Another man enters the fray, greeting her with a forgetful hi… he tries and tries but who could blame him why?
They twirl and ride and sing along for as long as the pair can tag-along. He opens his mouth and tries to speak but only comes out a sigh, but why oh why can't he bring himself to roll the die? So he can only whisper that why.
"You burned so bright and lit my nights, knowing you were there. But that stare glare of blackened blue you rained down too much for me to think I could see through." Gyro to his Molinete. Bravery and insanity but hey with all the things of pleasure and pain. Racking and firing off the words like they were put on belts off a chain. She pulled away! But what could he say, to that he needs…
By and by different peoples of different perspectives fly by. Bravo, Gallant, Visionary, Bon Vivant… What will they do when the needs of the many outweigh their want?
Then there's an angel, sent from above to save the people of someone she never met. Saint and yet still appealing to the sinners who see her, what will she do when she feels the want to fall… into the ground. With no one who used to know her.
PASS ON to this man right here? Yes, right here? Rendered immobile by the heart pumping chest ache of a long gone dear. All the pretense of these dances of digression and communication fighting for no longer the same existent person of a nation.
Now everyone here, in this cabin car or in their bedrooms, afar flowers with the need to know, be hurt and burn for need to see the show. But burnt loose ends, where the knowledge that there can be no more pretends. Crisp and dried and thrown away the wick melts to be used another day.
All are ringing and harmonizing. "Ingrained burnt retina or blind dilated pupil. Blissful peaceful dark slumber, or awaken and have our world melted and …"
MAIN ISLAND LINE A ENTERING: The Central.
Too early. But, he was here so he wouldn't, couldn't complain or argue.
He clicked his heels and prepared his rollerblades. The pull of the stopping train moving him out of the cramped barrel.
Stomping down, wheeling around he shot away, pulled and jumped onto the railing, muttering as the ground caught his slide.
"It's just a regular day of done…" he told himself through each stride forward roll broom grabbing the concrete underneath him to wrench him even faster. "A regular day of done…."
"More things to be done..." The whipping air, the rhythm in the white noise, the ramping crescendo…
He drew forward and leapt into the air above the greenery, hanging in there like he would grow his own wings if he stayed there long enough and never need to land.
"It's just begun…" in that moment he was in the air and nothing would stop his whirling. He turned flew…
"No taken chance…!"
BANG!
He was slathered on the pavement below as his heels hit another person's head hard. As instant regret of hurting someone innocent struckhimhereallyshouldn'tdothisbutohhisgoshdidhe-
All that was taken away when he heard the satiric tone of Koko's voice.
"Forgive him, he's from the city where they sing." Crescendo… Passaggio.
Tommaso Boccaccio lifted his bloody nose up from the stained red street. "and dance…." He slammed his helmet back down onto the ground and let it…
FALL.