Albert Silverberg (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
chikaidestroyer) wrote2014-09-18 08:32 pm
chikaidestroyer) wrote2014-09-18 08:32 pm
∞ 106: Echoes in their absence
September 16
[While he had heard of the people -- echoes of people -- appearing around the village, Albert did not happen to see one right away. It's as he's taking a break outside of Celsius Tear that he takes notice of a teenage girl standing in front of the mural by the Welcome Center. He descends the stairs to watch her.
That had been ... almost three years ago now, he recalled as he watched the girl cheerfully set down a bucket of yellow paint. Without paying him any attention or seeing the completed mural in front of her, the girl dipped a paintbrush into the bucket and began making sweeping motions across the mural. Pao-Lin, he finally recalls as she bends over to dip her paintbrush again.
He watches for a while, eventually looking over his shoulder at the other mural that surrounded the fountain. That had been another of her projects with volunteers, done a year later.
He can't help but think about that saying as he watches her paint -- that art only found its value after its artist was gone.]
-----
September 17
[The fountain plaza proves to be a good spot to see the 'echoes,' and Albert decides to take his breaks outside to observe despite the weather looking increasingly storm-like. Sometimes the person he sees is only a flicker of movement, walking around the fountain or sitting on its edge, eating lunch. Once or twice he even sees a person seated or running across a rooftop, leaving him pondering what could have been happening at that time to lead to that behavior.
It's foolish to hope that he'll see a familiar face, he knows. But he still watches.]
-----
September 18, early afternoon
[It seems oddly fitting that he sees echoes of Nami and Yuber on the day of the thunderstorm. Nami, back before she had begun to grow weary of having such awful luck with picking fights with the wrong people. Back before she had been a threat.
...This must have been when Nami declared she would arrest Yuber, going by her uncharacteristic uniform, untouched by the falling rain. He certainly remembered that.]
[Albert can be found in Celsius Tear in the mornings or around the fountain plaza and its stores in the afternoons.]
-----
September 19, evening
Content warning: limb loss
[It happens when he is returning to the hot springs teleporter from visiting his giant owl. The headache comes out of nowhere, like a wave crashing over him, and he drops his journal from where he had been loosely holding it against his side. Shaking his head to clear the disorientation, Albert concentrates enough on Tsinku enough to summon a sphere of contained electricity to light the ground. Upon spotting his journal, he crouches to pick it up.
That's when he notices that there is nothing at the end of his shirt sleeve -- at both of his shirt sleeves.
Dazed, he lifts his hands up to the light to get a better look. But there are no hands. Just dark red masses of muscle and arteries that seem to be in a bizarre state of suspension. The muscles visible twitch as his forearms tense up, and he stares at them blankly for what seems like ages.
The ball of electricity fizzles and disappears as he passes out.
It's over an hour later when he finally wakes up again, his headache worse and his senses slow to reorient themselves. His ragged breathing is answered by a deep hooting noise, and he looks up to see Bilruben's large, glassy eyes reflecting what little light was coming from the artificially displayed moon. The giant owl doesn't move as he sits there in the darkness, a silent sentry while he tries to stop hyperventilating.
He can barely think. The confused, despairing noises he makes are largely incoherent, earning him a tilted stare from the owl as it watches. He doesn't know how long he sits there before he fumbles in the dark, half turned over in the wet grass, to try opening his journal.]
I need help.
[It's breathless and strained. Short and vague.]
[While he had heard of the people -- echoes of people -- appearing around the village, Albert did not happen to see one right away. It's as he's taking a break outside of Celsius Tear that he takes notice of a teenage girl standing in front of the mural by the Welcome Center. He descends the stairs to watch her.
That had been ... almost three years ago now, he recalled as he watched the girl cheerfully set down a bucket of yellow paint. Without paying him any attention or seeing the completed mural in front of her, the girl dipped a paintbrush into the bucket and began making sweeping motions across the mural. Pao-Lin, he finally recalls as she bends over to dip her paintbrush again.
He watches for a while, eventually looking over his shoulder at the other mural that surrounded the fountain. That had been another of her projects with volunteers, done a year later.
He can't help but think about that saying as he watches her paint -- that art only found its value after its artist was gone.]
-----
September 17
[The fountain plaza proves to be a good spot to see the 'echoes,' and Albert decides to take his breaks outside to observe despite the weather looking increasingly storm-like. Sometimes the person he sees is only a flicker of movement, walking around the fountain or sitting on its edge, eating lunch. Once or twice he even sees a person seated or running across a rooftop, leaving him pondering what could have been happening at that time to lead to that behavior.
It's foolish to hope that he'll see a familiar face, he knows. But he still watches.]
-----
September 18, early afternoon
[It seems oddly fitting that he sees echoes of Nami and Yuber on the day of the thunderstorm. Nami, back before she had begun to grow weary of having such awful luck with picking fights with the wrong people. Back before she had been a threat.
...This must have been when Nami declared she would arrest Yuber, going by her uncharacteristic uniform, untouched by the falling rain. He certainly remembered that.]
[Albert can be found in Celsius Tear in the mornings or around the fountain plaza and its stores in the afternoons.]
-----
September 19, evening
Content warning: limb loss
[It happens when he is returning to the hot springs teleporter from visiting his giant owl. The headache comes out of nowhere, like a wave crashing over him, and he drops his journal from where he had been loosely holding it against his side. Shaking his head to clear the disorientation, Albert concentrates enough on Tsinku enough to summon a sphere of contained electricity to light the ground. Upon spotting his journal, he crouches to pick it up.
That's when he notices that there is nothing at the end of his shirt sleeve -- at both of his shirt sleeves.
Dazed, he lifts his hands up to the light to get a better look. But there are no hands. Just dark red masses of muscle and arteries that seem to be in a bizarre state of suspension. The muscles visible twitch as his forearms tense up, and he stares at them blankly for what seems like ages.
The ball of electricity fizzles and disappears as he passes out.
It's over an hour later when he finally wakes up again, his headache worse and his senses slow to reorient themselves. His ragged breathing is answered by a deep hooting noise, and he looks up to see Bilruben's large, glassy eyes reflecting what little light was coming from the artificially displayed moon. The giant owl doesn't move as he sits there in the darkness, a silent sentry while he tries to stop hyperventilating.
He can barely think. The confused, despairing noises he makes are largely incoherent, earning him a tilted stare from the owl as it watches. He doesn't know how long he sits there before he fumbles in the dark, half turned over in the wet grass, to try opening his journal.]
I need help.
[It's breathless and strained. Short and vague.]
no subject
Those have been growing less and less frequent over the years as it is, when you think about it. I mean how many have come for sure directly from them in the last year... Four or five? And there were about as few in the year before that.
no subject
Indeed. There's still an experiment or two that we expect every year, but they have tapered off with the increased focus on the war effort.
[A brief pause.]
But the sheer frequency of these people showing up seems more like an experiment than a simple natural shift.
[It would explain Shikamaru's earlier comment about how bad the natural shifts must be affecting people outside, but surely the researchers would say something about what they had to be seeing.
Unless the only researcher who was even observing them anymore was that one intern he'd dryly called Jingleheimer.]
no subject
There was that intern back in March that had the date wrong. [He and Masaomi mentioned it the other day, when they were cataloguing things for the locked network.] And the weather in Zompania during the draft was weird too, when I think back on it. When I talked around on the moon, I found it's one of the enclosures closer to the South Pole, but at the time it felt pretty mild.
no subject
[He definitely recalls the intern's slip-up and how he had contemplated the error at the time. But the information on Zompania was new.]
Zompania's weather is normally colder then?
[When they had last been there to raze what was left to the ground, he hadn't made any observations of the weather.]
no subject
[Shikamaru briefly switches his attention back to the store as a bunch of apelike Akus suddenly reel back, as if in pain.]
no subject
[They had been affected by a number of shifts as far back as before the last draft.
...]
But we know that Zompania was also affected by John's interference. Who is to say he did not manage to run personal experiments in that enclosure prior to the draft?
[The fact that his technology allowed him to reach the Lucetians and cause a shift of that magnitude was significant, even if they didn't know the specifics of how that shift had worked.]
no subject
It'd fit with the theme...
no subject
Having some insight into his plans would be nice. And novel.
[Even after so long, the man could get away with playing with his cards close to his chest against anyone. Except for possibly the Observer, wherever she was now.]
no subject
Well if there's anyone in this village who could put together what he's up to, it'd be you. Provided we get enough clues in the first place.
no subject
[In some ways, they knew Zompano better than John.
He gives his watch another glance once the apparition was completely gone. Almost six minutes. It seemed the demon could be stubborn in many ways.]
no subject
[He didn't know that one.]
no subject
no subject
no subject
Have you ever experienced an effect like that? A change to skin coloration?
no subject
Not me. But I did see a guy turn orange once.
no subject
[He'd never seen John in direct sunlight to experience such issues with sensitivity, but it was food for thought.]
I suppose we are just fortunate such effects have not been permanent for us.
[For some reason. He doesn't recall ever hearing an explanation why they were particularly resilient.]
no subject
[It does make him think of something else, though, and he raises a hand to his chin.]
I wonder how people on the outside deal with it. I mean, they call enclosures like ours "bubbles", but they have to have some protection for themselves.
no subject
[His tone is wry as his thoughts momentarily stray to the actual end goal of the first Luceti Valley experiment.]
I can only offer theories, considering I have not interacted with them. Perhaps they know Shifting technology well enough to apply protection to individuals or buildings.
[He couldn't imagine they existed completely without Shifting technology, even if they didn't receive help directly from the Organization.]
no subject
There was a shift-protected room in that hospital. [...but he can't think of anything else, and so shakes his head.] Maybe they're selective with what they use it on.
[Off to the side of them, on another bench near the fountain, a second time shift begins. Two men, one very tall with enormous fists and the other an albino, converse on mute.]
no subject
[And as such, one he dismisses with a flick of his fingers.
He says nothing more for the moment, eyes on the two men. He recognizes the larger man, though they had never talked; someone of that height walking around the village would be difficult to miss.]
no subject
[It's the other man that draws Shikamaru's attention first, eyes narrowed and scathing. He has no obligation to humor Hidan as a memory, however, and so his scrutiny is turned upon the other fellow. They never met, but Shikamaru thinks he might've heard him on the journals once. Rick? Ralph?
He gets himself back on track.]
Either way, it makes me wonder if something's coming.
[It's a pain you can't hear anything for what the two are saying. Shikamaru adjusts his posture, lazily shifting an inch to get a better view of their faces in an attempt to read lips.]
no subject
But multitasking was a normal thing for both of them. Conversing and reading lips simultaneously just required a bit more concentration.]
With all of these shifts culminating towards something larger? It seems likely. The 'when' is the significant unknown.
no subject
If it weren't for this last week, I'd say it could be a while yet. Troublesome as it was, it'd been fairly gradual up to this point.