Harry Du Bois (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
tequila_sunset) wrote2022-02-25 07:13 pm
tequila_sunset) wrote2022-02-25 07:13 pmEntry tags:
Ryslig | Thought Cabinet
(ongoing wip)
tequila_sunset) wrote2022-02-25 07:13 pm
QU’EST-CE QUE C’EST?
There's a word that’s been banging around your skull. When the somethings that are maybe-memories rise to the surface. The shapes and sensations moving under the black water of your past like eels and lazy crocodiles. And you hear it.
At its most clear you know it bluntly thrown in your general direction like a brick. Then there is the woman, pulling herself from your grip, running away, from your apartment, from *you.* You never see her again. You don’t remember her face and she can’t forget yours. Then there is the other woman, the greatest of them all and you shut yourself down before the edges of your vision start to go fuzzy and black.
But then there’s the not so bad. Claps on the back. Firm handshakes. A shiny new uniform. The flashing lights glinting off Lieutenant Kitsuragi’s glasses, the music, a smile.
So what is a psychopath, anyway? Is it bad?
Research time: ???
+1 Half Light (tense and nervous)
-1 Composure (can’t relax)
(placeholder)
March Event Aftermath
-2 Empathy to the people of Haftesal (Fuck those guys.)
Eight Breaths (April Event)
There’s a church. You hold it in your mind, behind your eyes.
Built two hundred and thirty years ago it will stand for twenty two more.
There is the church there is the steeple. You open it up and that’s where things get fuzzy. You know the stained glass. You know the words. You know woman. Demon harlot war criminal whore. Dressed in light. Resplendent. Bitch.
Who is she? Who are you?
Research time: 24 hours
SOLUTION
Standing at the corner.
Standing over the altar.
So you…
Beg her forgiveness. Try to take her home. Back to Marvel Hill in the house made of amber and good things. You will be better this time. You will never forget to take out the trash again. You will never leave a dirty dish on the table. You’ll quit drinking.
Cut the clean lungs from her chest. Tie the wire ‘round her wrists. Pose her in front of her own reflection. The wig, almost a kind of joke. Too many women in Revachol smoke to be picky.
There is a third church. With smoke rising from the barrel of your gun. A hole in your heart. Leave it in the rafters above your head.
They will never be separate again, in your memory the edges will overlap into infinity.
+1 Electrochemistry (the white dress)
+2 Encyclopedia (the eight bullets)
+2 Interfacing (the blood on your hands)
no subject
no subject
no subject
September
He wasn’t there again today.
October
(November)
A knife in the back is as inevitable as the turning of the sun. Its exact schedule is more esoteric but no less regular. Teeth bite skin. Claws pierce organs, rend flesh into swirling canyons. Fire burns. You walk your fingers over the scars step by step.
You see the patterns. You know the signs. But you cannot tie the sun down below the horizon. The earth will turn how it turns. The birds sing and rest. The woman leaves the man behind.
Research time: 10 minutes
SOLUTION
Here’s what’s going to happen: everything you fear.
They will rip you apart atom by atom again and again until all you have is the mourning. The white mourning and her white shadow. When they strip you bare she will still be there. The only orange in this scene will be the apricot chewing gum wrappers.
He watched over you while you slept. Like an angel he saved you. He was there when you slept, and when you woke.
He said something.
-5 Espirit De Corps (You’ve forgotten his face. You’ve forgotten what he said.)