Lucien was nearly sweating with anxiety as she approached and looked up at him. At the first touch of lips, he was relieved as the kiss seemed mild and most perfunctory at best, the kiss of someone who did not know how and was just guessing. So he had been right in his fearsome assumptions that this couldn't be-
Then her arms were about him, her small body pressed hard against hers so that he could feel her softness and every curving grace of her body. The kiss became heated, and in becoming so also was terrifyingly familiar in such a way that he could not help but to respond in kind. Her kisses were desperate, his were hungry. Lucien's hands dropped to her tiny waist of their own accord to find her hips and pull her even closer to him. Even as Cassie's brain burst with memories of their times together, the painfully sweet recollections that were Lucien's bubbled over and poured from out the dark recesses of his mind and into his soul. His body knew what his mind did not want to accept: this was Cassie. Whatever else she was, she was still the woman he loved.
When Cassie let go and stepped back, apologizing, it was like losing her all over again. Lucien stood there, mouth slightly agape and eyes tearing. Yes, it was the woman he loved. And he had betrayed her. Even though they had never formally said the vows, they had promised themselves to each other for eternity in their romantic youth and foolishness. Yet, when she was gone and past any hope of recovery? Lucien had fallen apart in the end to find solace in Pony's bed. He had given up hope that Cassie might ever return, and now that she had he could feel nothing but guilt. There was loathing in his eyes as she stammered her apologies for being so forward, but it was not directed towards her. It was self-loathing.
Pale and weeping silently, he slowly shook in head in despair. "No... no, no, no... It is you. Oh, shit. No, what I have I... I gave... I didn't want to..."
Babbling through his emotions, Lucien backed away from Cassie, the turned and ran out of the cavern with his hands gripping his skull despondently. Now that he knew it was her, had to accept that it was his beloved, he couldn't face her. Facing her would mean also facing himself. And that he just could not do. Not now.
Seconds after he had fled, a voice chirped from the one table. It was Liana. "I would go after him." Pause. "If I had a body. You have a body. You should go after him. He is... distraught? Profile indicates that in such a situation, Lucien may require careful monitoring. Self-destructive behavior is probable at this juncture."
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Nice! I have to run off for a few hours. Tonight is table top night. I should be back around 10-ish and I'll reply then.
Lucien stood there silently, brooding as the tension hung thick and heavy in the air between them. He gulped as he watched her moved to the table, sit, offer to let him leave and not let him get in trouble for it. Damn it! But it was... just like Cassie to do so! She had never wanted other people to get in trouble, was always taking the fall for them and saying it was her responsibility to do so! When she tucked her hair behind her ear and glanced up at him it like that? This woman in front of him now looks and acted so much like his Cassie that it hurt even worse. If only her eyes did not shine so pinkly in the dim cavern lights. If only her body did not still move with that slight stiffness. If only she didn't still have just that faintest staccato rhythm to her voice that was so indicative of the robots and their Androids. If only he hadn't given up...
"No," he managed to rasp out finally. Unconsciously, he brushed at the sore spot on his lip with the back of his hand. "Uncle... He wouldn't like it... if I left right away."
He felt he should move somewhere or do something. He couldn't. Lucien could only stand where he was and look at her, his face stern and eyes haunted. No on in the Colony was obese or heavy, not with the strict rationing, but Lucien had lost an unhealthy amount of weight since that horrible day and it made him cadaverous in the gloom of the cave. Unsure of what to do or say, he ran his fingers through his short hair in frustration. The act allowed the dam within his soul to slowly leak.
"Pony. She says she was in here, that you're... really Cassie. Toni seems convinced, too, and where Toni goes Jodie follows. Uncle's pretty sure, too. Almost everyone thinks that you're Cassie, come... come back from the dead." Un-noticed by Lucien, a tear began to form in the corner of one grey eye. "But you can't be. You.. can't be Cassie. I... I can't let you be her, or... or I'm going to go mad. Do you understand? I had to give up on believing in miracles to survive, and if you are her... if you are Cassie... then miracles exist... but I can't allow myself to think that. It hurt too much before. And... I don't know if I can take that pain again."
He was rambling and he knew it. He was trying to explain his feelings and fears to a woman... a thing... who had forgotten what it was like to have those. But for the sake of saving his body from further reproofs from Uncle, and for the sake of what little soul he had left within him, Lucien had to at least try. Uncle may have coerced him into this, but Lucien had always tried to be a man of his word. Tried, that is.
In desperation, an idea came to his tortured brain. He leapt upon the idea like a drowning man for a life vest. "If... if you are Cassie. If you are... the woman I loved... then come here and kiss me. Kiss me... kiss me the way Cassie used to." Should her kiss prove true, his wracked mind reasoned, then he would have to admit it was her. If not, and she was an Android spy or some such, perhaps he would be lucky enough for her to kill him while he kissed the memory of his heart's desire goodbye.
"No," he managed to rasp out finally. Unconsciously, he brushed at the sore spot on his lip with the back of his hand. "Uncle... He wouldn't like it... if I left right away."
He felt he should move somewhere or do something. He couldn't. Lucien could only stand where he was and look at her, his face stern and eyes haunted. No on in the Colony was obese or heavy, not with the strict rationing, but Lucien had lost an unhealthy amount of weight since that horrible day and it made him cadaverous in the gloom of the cave. Unsure of what to do or say, he ran his fingers through his short hair in frustration. The act allowed the dam within his soul to slowly leak.
"Pony. She says she was in here, that you're... really Cassie. Toni seems convinced, too, and where Toni goes Jodie follows. Uncle's pretty sure, too. Almost everyone thinks that you're Cassie, come... come back from the dead." Un-noticed by Lucien, a tear began to form in the corner of one grey eye. "But you can't be. You.. can't be Cassie. I... I can't let you be her, or... or I'm going to go mad. Do you understand? I had to give up on believing in miracles to survive, and if you are her... if you are Cassie... then miracles exist... but I can't allow myself to think that. It hurt too much before. And... I don't know if I can take that pain again."
He was rambling and he knew it. He was trying to explain his feelings and fears to a woman... a thing... who had forgotten what it was like to have those. But for the sake of saving his body from further reproofs from Uncle, and for the sake of what little soul he had left within him, Lucien had to at least try. Uncle may have coerced him into this, but Lucien had always tried to be a man of his word. Tried, that is.
In desperation, an idea came to his tortured brain. He leapt upon the idea like a drowning man for a life vest. "If... if you are Cassie. If you are... the woman I loved... then come here and kiss me. Kiss me... kiss me the way Cassie used to." Should her kiss prove true, his wracked mind reasoned, then he would have to admit it was her. If not, and she was an Android spy or some such, perhaps he would be lucky enough for her to kill him while he kissed the memory of his heart's desire goodbye.
If it's alright with you, I'd like to go with the Uncle route. It makes Cassie seem all the more noble.
Hmm. That could work! I like it!
I was thinking it might be Uncle. Willing to do whatever was necessary, he wanted at least one of his people captured and converted so they might later retrieve them and find a way to undo or counter the process. In fact, Cassie might have been in on the plan volunteered to be captured. Uncle and Cassie would have left Toni out of it because they knew he would have tried to stop them. It would have been an incredible risk (unless Uncle had secretly pre-conditioned Cassie to return), yet would explain he authorized so many rescue attempts for a single human before giving it up as hopeless.
I was thinking it might be Uncle. Willing to do whatever was necessary, he wanted at least one of his people captured and converted so they might later retrieve them and find a way to undo or counter the process. In fact, Cassie might have been in on the plan volunteered to be captured. Uncle and Cassie would have left Toni out of it because they knew he would have tried to stop them. It would have been an incredible risk (unless Uncle had secretly pre-conditioned Cassie to return), yet would explain he authorized so many rescue attempts for a single human before giving it up as hopeless.
Not so stupid, actually. I like the idea, although i can't see Pony or Hassle (at least how you've described him so far) being the ones behind it. I actually do have an idea as to whom it might be though; I just want to think on it a little.
Behind the screen, James raised his eyebrows at her comments. "Dear James," she had said. That was... intriguing. He mulled on that small endearment as he finished drying off, listening to her answers attentively and grinning when she inquired as to his own marital status.
"A wife?" he chortled teasingly, "Oh, my. Yes. Great ogre of a thing. Eats servants for breakfast and virgins at luncheon and tea. That's why we moved to the countryside, you see? Much too hard to find virgins in the city. Not to mention good servants." Dried, he began to dress. Surprisingly, the clothes were a goodly fit! True, they were hardly the neat and flash fashions that he normally wore and still a far cry from anything in his tailored wardrobe. Yet they felt as well as they fit. Worn to the point of being comfortable, her loaned garments made James feel even more at ease. He found it easy to talk with Brenna, and the words flowed out as he answered her questions.
"But in truth? No. My sainted mother" and the words dripped with sarcasm "has paraded no small amount of genteel ladies before me in the hopes of making a match. Pasty faced, spiritless things that look so much like sticks that someone cruelly glued pillows to in all the wrong places. i'm sure they mean well enough and are perfectly pleasant in their own... bland ways. All the worse for it is that my mother is about as subtle as one possibly could not be regarding the whole affair. There is nothing quite like the sensation of being treated like some prize bull to be sold off for studding. And the way she refers to these young ladies, in private of course, always in private, is little better." He dropped his voice and began speaking in an exaggerated farmer's cadence in mockery. "Look'r at that one there, by, sure to give plenty of milk and calves, so she will. Be sure 'n' check her teeth first, though!"
It wasn't often he voiced his opinions regarding his mother so openly and bluntly. Perhaps it was the clothes he was donning, or the atmosphere of the cottage itself, but James found as though the expectations of his wealth and position in society were lifted from his shoulders. In Brenna's company, he felt... warm. Welcome. As though in some strange way he had just truly come home.
Stepping out from behind the screen in his borrowed clothing, James favored his hostess with a genuine smile. He held his arms up, palms out, so that she might see how well the clothing fit. "Well?" he quipped as he turned around for her inspection. His damn, curly hair was all stuck about at every angle for want of a comb, making him look quite foolish. James didn't seem to mind. "What do you think? Will I turn heads as I walk down Drury Lane? Am I fit for a night at the opera now? Or perhaps for a spot of dancing at the Duchess's Ball?" At this last, his smile brightened even further. With all the solemnity of being at court, he bowed to her with his hand extended upwards. "My most stubborn and teasing lady. Would you be so kind as to honor me with a dance?"
"A wife?" he chortled teasingly, "Oh, my. Yes. Great ogre of a thing. Eats servants for breakfast and virgins at luncheon and tea. That's why we moved to the countryside, you see? Much too hard to find virgins in the city. Not to mention good servants." Dried, he began to dress. Surprisingly, the clothes were a goodly fit! True, they were hardly the neat and flash fashions that he normally wore and still a far cry from anything in his tailored wardrobe. Yet they felt as well as they fit. Worn to the point of being comfortable, her loaned garments made James feel even more at ease. He found it easy to talk with Brenna, and the words flowed out as he answered her questions.
"But in truth? No. My sainted mother" and the words dripped with sarcasm "has paraded no small amount of genteel ladies before me in the hopes of making a match. Pasty faced, spiritless things that look so much like sticks that someone cruelly glued pillows to in all the wrong places. i'm sure they mean well enough and are perfectly pleasant in their own... bland ways. All the worse for it is that my mother is about as subtle as one possibly could not be regarding the whole affair. There is nothing quite like the sensation of being treated like some prize bull to be sold off for studding. And the way she refers to these young ladies, in private of course, always in private, is little better." He dropped his voice and began speaking in an exaggerated farmer's cadence in mockery. "Look'r at that one there, by, sure to give plenty of milk and calves, so she will. Be sure 'n' check her teeth first, though!"
It wasn't often he voiced his opinions regarding his mother so openly and bluntly. Perhaps it was the clothes he was donning, or the atmosphere of the cottage itself, but James found as though the expectations of his wealth and position in society were lifted from his shoulders. In Brenna's company, he felt... warm. Welcome. As though in some strange way he had just truly come home.
Stepping out from behind the screen in his borrowed clothing, James favored his hostess with a genuine smile. He held his arms up, palms out, so that she might see how well the clothing fit. "Well?" he quipped as he turned around for her inspection. His damn, curly hair was all stuck about at every angle for want of a comb, making him look quite foolish. James didn't seem to mind. "What do you think? Will I turn heads as I walk down Drury Lane? Am I fit for a night at the opera now? Or perhaps for a spot of dancing at the Duchess's Ball?" At this last, his smile brightened even further. With all the solemnity of being at court, he bowed to her with his hand extended upwards. "My most stubborn and teasing lady. Would you be so kind as to honor me with a dance?"
Some suggestions?
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-woman-s-shortcomings/
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sonnet-10-yet-love-mere-love-is-beautiful-indeed/
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-tear-and-a-smile-3/
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/your-children-4/
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/on-imagination/
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/on-virtue/
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/my-boy-jack/
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-fairies-siege/
Perhaps you may not wish to copy out the entire poem, whichever you choose, but simply write on how Kijani reads it. Not just the in tonal inflections, but how it makes her feel as well. Then you can simply use the stanza of whatever poem to finish out the paragraph? Would that work for you?
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-woman-s-shortcomings/
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sonnet-10-yet-love-mere-love-is-beautiful-indeed/
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-tear-and-a-smile-3/
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/your-children-4/
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/on-imagination/
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/on-virtue/
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/my-boy-jack/
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-fairies-siege/
Perhaps you may not wish to copy out the entire poem, whichever you choose, but simply write on how Kijani reads it. Not just the in tonal inflections, but how it makes her feel as well. Then you can simply use the stanza of whatever poem to finish out the paragraph? Would that work for you?
Lucien flew across the corridor's width and bounced hard against the rocky wall. Dazed, he slumped to the smooth floor as his sense reeled about him, distorting up from down and making him feel ill. He could feel the ache in his ribs and the stinging in his jaw from the hard and fast punches that seemed impossible to anticipate or block. Pony watched on a few yard away, her hands to her mouth in horror. There was little the tiny woman could do as Uncle lightly stepped up where Lucien had crumpled and then grabbed the fabric of his sweater to yank him to his feet.
"Allow me to rephrase that, Lucien," the old man said calmly. "You will go see her and talk to her whether you want to or not. I need this to happen. It is far more important than your wallowing in self-pity or whatever depravity you and Pony get up to. Castille was your fiancé. Practically your wife. If there is anyone who can manage to reawaken dormant memories in her, it should be you. I know this is hard for you, but it is necessary. Necessary things need doing, Lucien, even if they are unpleasant. For example?" Uncle gave a sudden right undercut right into Lucien's belly. The air whooshed out of him as he bend double, held up only by the Colony leader's firm grip on the sweater. "I do not like being the shit out of you. I find it repugnant, actually. Only it seems to be the only way I can convince you that you must go see her. I could let Toni do this, only he would not know when to stop."
A sharp knee drive into Lucien's belly mere inches from where the last punch had landed, and Uncle let him drop to the floor unceremoniously. Turning to Pony with a fierce glare, he jabbed a finger at the battered and bleeding young man. "Get him cleaned up and down to the lab. And Pony? I won't be trifled with in this. Don't interfere." With that, Uncle walked back down the corridor to leave the two.
Pony wasted no time in rushing to Lucien's side, rolling him over into her lap and wiping the blood away from his split lip and cut cheek. "Shhh," she murmured tearfully, "It's okay, Lucien. Really. I snuck in there. I spoke to her. It's Cassie, it really is! You can go talk to her and... and thing will be like they used to be... only better... because we'll all be together now. Shhh, it's alright. Don't cry, Lucien."
Lucien said nothing, merely laid there with his eyes screwed shut tightly to drown out the pain in his heart and in his head. Hot tears scorched his cheeks. Pony didn't understand. Neither did Uncle, nor anyone else. Toni might have understood, he thought, Toni might understand better than any of them if only for the wrong reasons. Lucien had never bothered to correct Toni in his assumptions, had let the hate between the former friends grow because it was easier than confronting the memories that would burst forth every time he saw the man. Only if it was Cassie... if she was alive...
***
His cuts washed and his lip swollen but no longer bleeding, Lucien trudged his way towards the lab where the Android was being kept. The distance between the nesting grounds and the labs really wasn't all that great, an easy ten minute walk. Only now he felt as though it were a journey through hell. Going to confront this... this thing from his past was a trip of anxiety, self hate and fear that made the distance near unbearable and the destination all the more feared. What was he going to say to her? What the hell was Uncle expecting out of this? Lucien struggled to resolve within himself to make it as short a visit as he possibly could.
When he stepped around the corner and into the lab, he caught sight of her standing there and looking away. With her wonderful hair, lithe body and angle face, the impact of seeing her again struck his heart and crumbled that resolve to flee at the first opportunity. It was just as well that she wasn't looking at him; Lucien discovered quickly that he could not look at her without feeling as though he were breaking apart. The heart ache and grief of loss were centered in his chest, yes, but also radiated throughout his whole being. There was so much that he wanted to say, so much to explain and beg and plead and hope...
Hope. That was what had killed the man she had loved. Hope she might be recovered. Hope that she had escaped and still lived. Hope that Cassie was out there somewhere and that they might find her. It was hope that had kept Lucien going like a madman even after the others had given up, and it was the death of his hope that had allowed him to be seduced into Pony's arms. Even if this was Cassie, resurrected from the proverbial grave, Lucien's hope was still laid out in its stone sarcophagus.
Finally, knowing they had to start somewhere, Lucien spoke. "Hey."
"Allow me to rephrase that, Lucien," the old man said calmly. "You will go see her and talk to her whether you want to or not. I need this to happen. It is far more important than your wallowing in self-pity or whatever depravity you and Pony get up to. Castille was your fiancé. Practically your wife. If there is anyone who can manage to reawaken dormant memories in her, it should be you. I know this is hard for you, but it is necessary. Necessary things need doing, Lucien, even if they are unpleasant. For example?" Uncle gave a sudden right undercut right into Lucien's belly. The air whooshed out of him as he bend double, held up only by the Colony leader's firm grip on the sweater. "I do not like being the shit out of you. I find it repugnant, actually. Only it seems to be the only way I can convince you that you must go see her. I could let Toni do this, only he would not know when to stop."
A sharp knee drive into Lucien's belly mere inches from where the last punch had landed, and Uncle let him drop to the floor unceremoniously. Turning to Pony with a fierce glare, he jabbed a finger at the battered and bleeding young man. "Get him cleaned up and down to the lab. And Pony? I won't be trifled with in this. Don't interfere." With that, Uncle walked back down the corridor to leave the two.
Pony wasted no time in rushing to Lucien's side, rolling him over into her lap and wiping the blood away from his split lip and cut cheek. "Shhh," she murmured tearfully, "It's okay, Lucien. Really. I snuck in there. I spoke to her. It's Cassie, it really is! You can go talk to her and... and thing will be like they used to be... only better... because we'll all be together now. Shhh, it's alright. Don't cry, Lucien."
Lucien said nothing, merely laid there with his eyes screwed shut tightly to drown out the pain in his heart and in his head. Hot tears scorched his cheeks. Pony didn't understand. Neither did Uncle, nor anyone else. Toni might have understood, he thought, Toni might understand better than any of them if only for the wrong reasons. Lucien had never bothered to correct Toni in his assumptions, had let the hate between the former friends grow because it was easier than confronting the memories that would burst forth every time he saw the man. Only if it was Cassie... if she was alive...
***
His cuts washed and his lip swollen but no longer bleeding, Lucien trudged his way towards the lab where the Android was being kept. The distance between the nesting grounds and the labs really wasn't all that great, an easy ten minute walk. Only now he felt as though it were a journey through hell. Going to confront this... this thing from his past was a trip of anxiety, self hate and fear that made the distance near unbearable and the destination all the more feared. What was he going to say to her? What the hell was Uncle expecting out of this? Lucien struggled to resolve within himself to make it as short a visit as he possibly could.
When he stepped around the corner and into the lab, he caught sight of her standing there and looking away. With her wonderful hair, lithe body and angle face, the impact of seeing her again struck his heart and crumbled that resolve to flee at the first opportunity. It was just as well that she wasn't looking at him; Lucien discovered quickly that he could not look at her without feeling as though he were breaking apart. The heart ache and grief of loss were centered in his chest, yes, but also radiated throughout his whole being. There was so much that he wanted to say, so much to explain and beg and plead and hope...
Hope. That was what had killed the man she had loved. Hope she might be recovered. Hope that she had escaped and still lived. Hope that Cassie was out there somewhere and that they might find her. It was hope that had kept Lucien going like a madman even after the others had given up, and it was the death of his hope that had allowed him to be seduced into Pony's arms. Even if this was Cassie, resurrected from the proverbial grave, Lucien's hope was still laid out in its stone sarcophagus.
Finally, knowing they had to start somewhere, Lucien spoke. "Hey."
One more post from me tonight, and then I'm afraid I have to go find my bed. It's been something of a rough day. Although I have to admit, getting a nice back-and-forth posting going here was rather fun!
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