onlymistaken | Room 311, Friday Morning

Cally was lying on her back and juggling apples with her feet, so fast that all she could see was a shiny red blur in the air above the foot of her bed. How she was managing to do that and where she'd even got the apples seemed less important at the moment than pointing the accomplishment out. Loudly.

//Zelda, look! I told you I'd learn it!//
//You're too far away - I can't see. Learn what?
//How to keep everything up in the air...//
// I can't hear you-- Cally?//

Thud thud THUD, and they all fell down.

//Zelda?//

But there wasn't any answer when Cally sat up in bed, the covers tangled up around her toes.

Though the dream brought a familiar disappointment surging bitterly to the surface, the silence wasn't unusual, not anymore. What was odd was the way she felt compelled to kick away the blanket, slide out of bed, and walk over to the window to gaze up in some vague skyward direction as if she really could point the way home. Also to open her mouth, though there was no one here to talk to but the dog, and start -- oh.

That wasn't talking. It was singing. Which made so much more sense.

I feel a shadow passing over me that could stay forever more.
Like a wave I'm breaking far at sea, but there's no-one to hear the roar.
And the days are drifting into seasons; they're the hardest I have known.
A million spaces in the earth to fill, but there's no going home.

And I can dream before the break of day that I am back with you again.
Then the morning blows it all away and leaves an echo of your name.
Still a thousand miles lies between us and we're waking up alone.
What if I could cross a hundred borders - there's no going home.

Cally would have a hard time coming up with a scientific explanation for that. If she were bothering to try, instead of just staring blankly (and perhaps a little bit damply) out the window.

[Open. Emo, but open.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

onlymistaken

"Dolf - come in." Past the giant dog, Yes. "Nana, go lie down, please." Because that always worked. "I'm--" Fine seemed a rather outrageous lie, so she compromised on that. "--feeling rather odd this morning, actually."

From:

swordsandsoccer.livejournal.com

"Odd-- how?" Dolf asked. This had been a very bad idea-- but if she was upset, he wasn't going to let the dog keep him out indefinitely. He muscled into the room quickly, aiming for 'avoiding the dog' and winding up with 'dog's flank plastered to my side'.

Edited Date: 2010-11-05 04:11 pm (UTC)

From:

onlymistaken

"Nana, let him alone - I'm sorry." Cally gave a tug at the dog's collar, which... diverted her by about two inches, and for about two seconds. "I found myself singing without meaning to," she added to Dolf. "I don't even know the song."

From:

swordsandsoccer.livejournal.com

Dolf frowned at her - after he'd taken those two seconds to hurl himself at the closest possible surface he could sit on. He'd feel awkward about hopping up on her bed later: right now escaping the dog was priority number one.

But then there was frowning, yes. "I woke up singing 'Vandaag Ben Ik Gaan Lopen' this morning," he muttered. "...Coincidence?"

From:

onlymistaken

Cally took a seat beside him and tried to make sense of that song title while Nana just put her muzzle up on the edge of the bed and gazed mournfully at Dolf. There was even a deep doggish sigh.

"That's a song in your native language?"

From:

swordsandsoccer.livejournal.com

"Yes," Dolf said, nodding quickly. He licked his lips. "It goes like--" He frowned. His singing voice was at best normal, pedestrian, especially when it wasn't fueled by the island. "Vandaag ben ik gaan lopen, ik was het maanden al van plan. Maar pas toen iedereen gezegd had dat het niet kon ging ik lopen. Kijk me lopen toch..." He trailed off. "It's... a nice song, but I don't-- Maak me klein bij elk geluid. Ben veel banger dan ik was toen ik nog stil stond. Mag zo wezen, maar ik kom eindeiljk, ik kom eindelijk vooruit.*"

... He hadn't actually meant to hit that last part.

"... like that." Yes. Blink.

[[ * *nerds* Today I started walking I was planning to for months. But only when everyone told me that I couldn't, I started walking. Just watch me walk... [...] I make myself tiny with every sound. Am so much more scared than I was when I stood still. Might be that way, but I'm finally, I'm finally moving forward. ]]

Edited Date: 2010-11-05 04:31 pm (UTC)

From:

onlymistaken

"I've no idea what it means, but I like the music," Cally said, frowning a bit. "You hadn't intended to sing it either?"

From:

swordsandsoccer.livejournal.com

"No," he said, quickly. "Not then, and not the last bit. Do you think...?"

A slobber-covered muzzle brushed past his knee. He quickly retracted it.

From:

onlymistaken

"That it's some effect of the island? It must be."

Cally rubbed thoughtfully at her jaw, grateful for the distraction of thinking of it like a mystery. Something to solve, something she could... well, perhaps not do anything about, but it at least felt more effective than staring off in what might not even be the direction of her planet.

"Perhaps it's a psychic phenomenon - there are a number of people with psionic gifts here; someone could be projecting the desire to sing..."

From:

swordsandsoccer.livejournal.com

He nodded slowly, though psychic sounded like too much to his ears. Dolf chastisised himself: he didn't know anything about psychics or magic, and so he couldn't be sure whether anything was one way or the other.

He opened his mouth to speak, to agree it was possible, but what came out was, "If I could look beyond your face, and photograph your hidden place-- Would I find you smiling in the picture?"

From:

onlymistaken

Hello, Eyebrows; we'd like you to meet our friend Hairline.

"I'm not sure --" that I understand the question, was how she was going to finish, even though it might not be entirely true. Instead he got, "There's a chair in my head in which I used to sit. Took a pencil and I wrote the following on it: now there's a key where my wonderful mouth used to be. Dig it up; throw it at me."

From:

swordsandsoccer.livejournal.com

"Got a knife to disengage the voids that I can't bear, to cut out words I've got written on my chair-- Like do you think I'm sexy..." By sheer force of embarrassment, Dolf got a moment's pause out of the song there. His face had gone completely red, and he was suddenly very acutely aware of where he was sitting, like the entire universe had homed in on that one spot just to make him feel the most embarrassment humanly possible.

"Do you think I really care..."

From:

onlymistaken

Cally's face wasn't the sort that was built to go red; wide, dark eyes were the closest she could get, and that she had in abundance. She almost laughed nervously, but she could sense that would make it even worse, (though not so much worse as directly answering the question might) so she swallowed it down.

Chairs, keys, knives... it was all possibly the most round-about way ever of saying I don't know what to say to that, but she never knew for certain what to say to anything here, talking just with her lips. It was like Dolf wasn't the only one speaking a foreign language, negotiating the way through her own forest of words.

"Can I burn the mazes I grow? Can I? I don't think so."

From:

swordsandsoccer.livejournal.com

"Where can I run to, where can I hide," Dolf choked out, still feeling aghast, though there was other emotion dripping into those words, and he hadn't got a single idea how to place it.

"Who will I turn to, now I'm in a virgin state of mind?"

... He really hoped she wasn't going to take any of this literally, and yet, and yet, he was such a newborn in the face of all of this-- whatever it was.

From:

onlymistaken

Being unsure of what would come out of her mouth next was neither usual for Cally, nor enjoyable. When she opened it and the next sound to emerge didn't have a note, she had to pause to breathe a sigh of relief.

"If someone is causing this, they have a rather nasty sense of humour," she decided.

From:

swordsandsoccer.livejournal.com

"Oh god," said Dolf, faintly. He wasn't singing any more either, but he desperately kind of wanted to grab a pillow.

From:

onlymistaken

Cally would settle for her hand over her face, so there were a couple of pillows to spare, if he wanted them. "Also not a song I'm familiar with," she said, because she had to say something.