Closed Twin Daisies Dance

[Matthew]

It was a lonely island, with not a single plant or animal to be found. There was only Matthew and the Master, both standing there and staring at the other, heads tilted at opposite angles. The lone island was surrounded by waters that had just now managed to calm themselves, streaks of horrified lightning fading from the sky. The Master finally broke their deadlocked stare and glanced around, tired eyes taking in the scenery. "This is it? This is all there is of you?" He let out a snort and strode through the sand, heading to the shore and flopping down. After a moment Matthew followed, sitting down as well, right beside of the Master. The older man stretched and yawned, then glanced over at Matthew, his tone suddenly curious. "You aren't fighting my influence. You might have a chance to expel me if you tried." Matthew stared out over the ocean, not responding at first. It was true, he could fight. He wasn't sure how he knew this, but it was instinctive. Perhaps because it was his body. There was definitely a way to fight, and if he focused hard enough he might be able to expel the man. He wasn't sure if he would be strong enough though. He didn't know how much strength it required. If anything, he would fail and be tired because of it, which would then seal his fate. He slowly shook his head, blue eyes glimmering. "Should I fight? Will you hurt my companion?" The Master paused, perhaps not used to the eeriely calm reaction. After a few moments he snarled, shrugging broad shoulders. "If she gets in my way, yes. There is nothing a father won't do for his daughter." Matthew blinked and glanced sideways at the Master, studying him as he stared distantly across the ocean. Sighing to himself, he switched topics, moving on. "This isn't all there is. This is only my heart, I suppose you could say. There is also a library, my mind. That is all, I think. I have a key to something else, but I can't find the door. I can't find any doors." The Master abruptly and roughly laughed, shoulders shaking in the sudden glee. "You are a funny boy. So very literal, even in your mind. I am only controlling your body, I can't actually feel the things you feel, but it is certainly interesting being in here. I have possessed one or two people in my... death, and I don't ever recall such a detailed inner world." Matthew blinked a few more times, the information interesting to him. He assumed most people didn't have a library, but no inner representation of themselves? No way to sort and analyze their emotions? How in the world did other people handle all of the things that their hearts could generate? His thoughts were interrupted at the Master rose, brushing sand off of his britches. "It was a pleasure, boy. I appreciate you letting me get my work done. The girl didn't get in my way." The Master breathed in, glancing around, looking so very normal. He paused for a second, blinking, confusion flickering across his face. "I feel so very... serene. None of the torment, the obsession. I wear a very different face out there with your companion. Where is that face in here? Where is the rage, the sorrow?" Matthew considered the Master for a moment, then slowly gestured out to the surrounding ocean. "Out there somewhere. In the waves. Drowning with all of mine. They come and I hold them underwater until they stop kicking. Then I continue on, safe on my island. They are never very much. I don't know why." The Master stared, and Matthew stared back. There was a few more moments of silence and then without a single bit of warning, the Master vanished. ~ Matthew was back in the library, and then suddenly he was very off balance. The world tilted and he stumbled, shoulder slamming into a bookshelf. A single book fell and he slowly reached out for it, the leather binding bouncing off of his fingertips as he missed the catch. He blinked rapidly, the world tilting and spinning a bit more. There were weapons near him. He was still in the library though, just in a different place. Then there was Oriah, blazing red welts apparent on her arms. Memories of the event came flashing back, running in front of his eyes like a picture book being flipped through. He had been there and been watching, had seen everything, just hadn't been able to control himself. At some point he had retreated to that island, and that was what the most clear memories were about. Perhaps that was why he felt so calm, even after having shot a little girl. Then again, the little girl had actually been the ghost of a little girl. Matthew slowly rose to his feet, shaking his head to clear the cobwebs. Miracles of Faith. He had thought it best to fight something illogical with something else illogical. She hadn't called upon her god though, or perhaps she couldn't. He supposed he would just have to find out more about her faith later. For now, they had to get a bottle, if he recalled. He didn't know why, but it didn't seem like it would hurt. Where would they get a bottle, though? Glancing upon Oriah, the answer came very clearly. There was plenty of wine downstairs, and no doubt some of that wine could be found in bottles. Wincing as he walked, he approached Oriah slowly, that trademark grace back in his steps. He didn't think to check her emotional state, merely reached out for what was most real to him at the moment. Her arm. If she let him, he'd take it in his hands, careful to avoid the welts. After studying the marks for a few moments he would be satisfied, glancing up into her eyes. "These should clear up on their own. No broken bones, it looks like. Are you hurt anywhere else?" It was practically like nothing out of the ordinary had happened. To him, it had almost been like a dream. Chewing his lower lip, he blinked up at the dancer and tilted his head. "Perhaps it is best we skip the dance and I take you home. No doubt this whole ordeal was very tiring." He did have enough manners to realize that it had probably been quite a stressful experience for the woman. He somehow felt it was his fault, though. Perhaps because he had been the one to bring her up here. What could make it up to her? After a long pause he spoke again, though much more slowly this time, more thoughtfully. "Or we could dance. But somewhere else. It won't be bad like this adventure was, promise." She had a love of dance and a love of adventure, it seemed. Perhaps that could make it up to her.

[Oriah]

Oriah watched as the alien presence of the Master seemed to wink out of Matthew's body. Her companion stumbled straight into a shelf, struggling to orient himself once more. Though the urge to rush forward and ensure he wasn't hurt coursed through her, a shred of fearful doubt held her back. Was it a ploy? Was Matthew truly back to his old self?

She tensed a little as he approached, but the way he held and inspected her arm sent a wave of relief washing over her. The aspiring harlot was once again all grace and composure and his touch held none of the unnatural eeriness it had moments before. He was back, thank Yahal.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, she registered how absurdly calm Matthew was. But his undramatic reaction to all that had happened lent her a sense of tranquility as well. The dancer felt herself willing away the greedy fingers of panic wrapped around her heart, allowing it to slow to a steadier pace. She shook her head at his question. "No, I don't think I am."

Her companion then suggested they forego dancing and return home, which held a certain amount of temptation. The girl felt quite drained and she was still racked with cold, though not as strongly as before. But the faint guilt in Matthew's voice made her reconsider.

Oriah thought of trying to sleep in her rented room, in the dark, alone, and shuddered. It didn't seem an easy feat, even in her imagination. If anything, she much preferred to return to the presence of warmth and dazzling, oblivious company again. Perhaps if they did, the light hearted atmosphere could help ease the strain of the supernatural ordeal they had just endured.

"I would like to dance," she blurted eagerly as soon as Matthew made his second suggestion. "For a little while, that is. Maybe somewhere where we can still hear the music, but without the crowd and everyone watching? I think it would help me feel less...cold."

Not to mention prevent people from noticing the angry welts on her arm. They were already beginning to fade, but the keen eyes of the elite would see them in a heart beat. And who knew what kinds of unpleasant rumors that might spark amongst them?

-------fifteen chimes later--------

Oriah rested her cheek against the smooth fabric of Matthew's shirt, soaking up his warmth as she stared contentedly at his bright, red bow tie. By the time they had returned from the library, it seemed quite a few songs had been played already. Now, the musicians were weaving rich, luxuriant melodies at a speed slow enough for the more elderly elite to partake in.

The two of them had joined in on the slow dance in the privacy of an empty balcony. It was simple and nothing near as exciting as their original choreography had been, but it did wonders to soothe the disturbing shock of what she had just witnessed.

Oriah could kill a chicken without losing control of its body or spend an entire season struggling to find her sea legs. But ghosts. She shuddered. Ghosts were a different kind of phenomenon to cope with altogether.

Somewhere on that balcony also lay a wine bottle filled with gray ash and a small, unassuming book. The former they had acquired, wary of not heeding the Master a second time. And the latter, she had "borrowed" from the former spirit's desk. It was the one he had retrieved the key from to open the drawer of arrows and it had caught her eye on their second trip up to the forbidden floor. One look told her it was a diary of some kind. Thinking it might help with unraveling Cordelia's past and finding a solution for how to deal with her dust, Oriah had slipped it off the desk and down the stairs.

It wasn't long before the formal dance began drawing to a close. The couple stopped to pick up Matthew's jacket on their way out, using it to cover up the bottle and book. Oriah felt a tiny stab of guilt at the fact that she had technically stolen, but reasoned it was all for a greater good.

The sooner they figured out what to do with the child's ashes, the sooner they could leave the eery encounter behind them.

[Matthew]

Their timing had been perfect, but in all the wrong ways. He had specifically recruited Oriah so they could wear themselves out before the mind-numbing slow dances came around. While they were the only dance he knew how to do, the fact that that were so painfully boring set his hyperactive mind into silent screams of agony. Was boredom an emotion? Was this pleading in his mind to do anything but step in tight circles for a few chimes something that he could force to be quiet? So far, the only way he knew how to silence it was to give it what it wanted. More knowledge, more action, more learning. There wasn't anything to learn about slow dancing. But here they were, slowly moving to the soft notes of nearby violins. He moved mechanically, still holding some trademark grace, but mostly just going through the motions. His feet stepped to the side and forward, to the side and forward, over and over again to move him and his dancer companion in a very slow circle. One hand was on her shapely hip, the other in her long fingers. Back and forth, back and forth. He did notice that it had seemed to calm her down. He was originally going to offer to stay the night with her when he got her back home, but he hadn't wanted to. Her bed certainly wasn't big enough for two, and the cold wooden floorboards wouldn't give him the best night of sleep. He would still do it though, still under the impression that he owed her some sort of apology. She was visibly shaken, and he didn't blame her for it a bit. He still wasn't sure why he didn't feel horrified at what he had just seen. For some reason though, their slow steps and close quarters seemed to bring the girl some sort of peace. If that was what she needed, then it was the least he could do. Round and round they would go. The student had been a bit more observative when they had snuck out of the second floor. He had kept his eyes peeled for any further clues, still haunted by the feeling that he was missing something obvious. Oriah had found something she called a diary, an oddly foreign concept. It was apparently a personal log, perhaps something that would give them more of an insight on who the Master and Cordelia were. Matthew's curiosity had been stoked and now all the unanswered questions would haunt him. Hopefully they would be able to find some answers. They were surrounded by hundreds of books and Matthew was convinced that they might hold some clues to the new and somewhat terrifying mystery. He had been so wrapped in his thoughts that most everything up until the dance had been a dim blur. They had gotten the bottle and snuck back up to get the dust, much quicker in their forbidden trip this time around. And then they danced until it was time to go. Away they went, covering their pilfered items and heading home for some much-needed sleep. This would haunt Matthew until he had more answers. Hopefully it wouldn't haunt him in more ways than one.

[Caelum]

Thread Award

Matthew

Skills
Acting +3
Dancing +1
Deduction +3
Intelligence +5
Interrogation +1
Investigation +3
Meditation +1
Observation +3
Socialization +2
Spiritism +1
Stealth +2

Lores
Zeltiva: Wright Memorial Library
Evidence of a Haunting
Indentifying a Ghost
Managing Fear
Spiritism: Being Possessed
Panoramic Observation
Swift Analyzation
Observing Soul Darts
Observing Dusting of a Ghost

Oriah

Skills
Dancing +1
Deduction +5
Intelligence +4
Interrogation +2
Investigation +4
Observation +4
Socialization +4
Stealth +3

Lores
Zeltiva: Wright Memorial Library
Risks of Magic
Evidence of a Haunting
Identifying a Ghost
Questioning On Point
Mapping Detail
Observing Possession
Observing Soul Darts
Observing Dusting of a Ghost

Notes

This was a joy to read. The two of you tell a gripping tale together. If you have any questions or concerns, please don't hesitate to contact me. Don't forget to edit your post in the grade request thread and, as ever, write on.