(024.Family, 077.What?, 098.Writer‘s Choice [Cake] & 086.Choices) The Tower
’Verse/characters: The Tower, Bahne Haven
Prompt:098.Writer‘s Choice [Cake]
Word Count: 458
Rating: G
By now he ought to have been above embarrassment, but to his great chagrin Bahne had recently discovered that this was far from being the case.
He didn’t know what exactly it was, but something about Dierdre’s presence was just too much for his poor nerves. The initial awkwardness upon finding out that there was some great mutual affection had thankfully long since passed - they would not have been able to stay in the same room with each other otherwise, for all the blushing and stuttering.
Leron especially enjoyed mercilessly teasing the two of them about their awkwardness, though he was far from being the only one. It had become a favourite topic for half the tower’s resident gossipers.
Bahne found their affectionate mockery to be less than amusing. His comfort zone was narrow, and he would have appreciated not to be laughed at for his inability to express his feelings above the sound of a whisper. Of course, things were slowly getting better, but Bahne was set in his ways firmly and it only took little things to throw him off.
Routine was everything. He made tea and sweets for her every day, and had done so for a very long time now. It was hard work - especially for him, who was only now learning to imagine again - but Bahne tried to come up with a new kind of dessert for Dierdre every day. Or as often as he could, anyway.
Dierdre was willing to be delighted by everything he gave her, and although Bahne could hardly believe that he was as skilled a pastry chef as she made him out to be, he didn’t dare and doubt that all of her compliments and smiles were sincere.
Making her smile was one of his greatest pleasures, and so he put extra effort into trying to please her.
Naturally this was next to impossible when work in her department had been slow one day, and she appeared by the kitchen door, politely asking whether her company would be welcome.
When was it not? Of course Bahne had invited her in. She had taken a seat at the table and busied herself drinking an early cup of tea.
For a while they had made conversation, which had been pleasant enough for a while. But her presence distracted Bahne, which in turn made him anxious of making mistakes, so naturally flour was spilled and his hands were shaking just a little when he was decorating the plate with delicate patterns of chocolate sauce.
As distressing as this had been for Bahne, when he was done Dierdre seemed as happy and grateful as ever, despite the imperfections of his work.
For once Bahne had found himself smiling back without much reserve.
’Verse/characters: The Tower, Bahne Haven
Prompt: 086.Choices
Word Count: 428
Rating: G
Do you want to live or die?
Back in the day when tradition still had some meaning, and when you couldn’t come and leave as you pleased, this was the first question you were asked before you were taken into the tower.
Like many traditions, this one started with Bahne. He had been but a child back then, a boy who was lost out in the woods, slowly freezing to death under an unforgiving steel-gray sky. Death herself had come for him, and she had been as cold and lifeless as the frozen ground below.
When she had looked down as him with those too-blue eyes, there had been no expression in them. No compassion and no cruelty. Nothing.
She must have asked him then.
‘Do you want to live?’
But Bahne can hardly remember any of it now; he couldn’t even describe what her voice had sounded like. But he is sure that she must have omitted the fact that this would have been his last chance to die a natural death. She must have, because she always does, and Bahne has heard many of his colleagues bemoaning their own decisions. Leron in particular had been very vocal about how he would have chosen death if he had known that his new life was meant to be eternal.
Life.
Against popular opinion Bahne had never grown weary of it. Of people, yes, and even of himself at times, but never of life. Not really, anyway. It is such a novel thing in the tower that he cannot help but cherish as well as fear it, like everything that is rare, or new.
Of course, he’s had his fair share of regrets, and sometimes even unknowingly selling his mortality for an empty life of nothing but static was one of them. It isn’t now, not for the moment anyway.
Life, whatever it might mean to him, went on. Bahne is trying to make the best of it.
He is getting bolder again these days, tries making decisions again instead of dwelling in the background like a shadow. Though he knows he is still miles away from anything resembling normality. But he tries, and Dierdre thinks that is what counts.
‘Do you want to die, or do you want to live forever?’
It should be an easy question, but somehow it never is. There are so many fears to face, so many things to consider and brood over.
Today Bahne isn’t sure what his answer would be.
All he knows is that he wants to start living at all.
’Verse/characters: The Tower, Bahne Haven
Prompt:024.Family
Word Count: 409
Rating: G
I have known Bahne for a long time now, and I can say without a doubt that he has been cracked and ruined, just by living with us.
Even as a boy he used to be remarkably dull - there wasn’t a thing that he would question, nothing he would not do if he was only asked. He never dreamed of impossible things, but when we gave them to him, he accepted them without comment or complaint.
Still, just being here has changed him. He has become cold and set in his ways so firmly; he might as well be made of stone. Sometimes it seems that he - like everything else in the tower - is a caricature of a living thing, rather than an accurate image of one. Bahne functions like clockwork, precise but mindless, no movement is accidental.
Yet, whenever I see him interact with one of our children I imagine that I can see the facade crumbling, that there is a person behind all the bows and discrete perfections. Then again, I am not enough of a romantic to delude myself in that regard.
Maybe he is just as perfect a father as he is a cleaner, or cook or gardener. If his work requires him to love someone or something unconditionally, you can trust in Bahne to be in it with all of his being. In fact I would go so far as to say that all children in the tower belong to him more than anyone else.
It is true; my people make horrific parents. You have never met a more selfish lot. But Bahne, he takes them all in, feeds them and educates them. He will even read them stories, or make some up if he has to - although he really has no imagination to speak of anymore.
You will not come by a child that grew up in the tower and that does not - in some way - think of Bahne as a father figure. All of them have taken bits and pieces from him, and as fake and broken as he became, I think any of those who survived this place with their sanity intact have Bahne to thank for it in some way.
Whether it is true or not, I am perfectly sure that he believes himself to love them all. And, as you know, in some cases all you need to make something real inside the tower is believe and hope.
’Verse/characters: The Tower, Bahne Haven
Prompt: 077.What?
Word Count: 570
Rating: G
Bahne had many little rituals and habits that carried him through the days easily. Routine - though often cursed and lamented by others - was a wonderful thing to him. As long as he was keeping busy, Bahne never felt trapped, never felt bored.
He could not say where he picked up most of his habits. Over time they had just sort come into existence, like everything in the tower tended to do, and sometimes they faded away again, too, just as quietly.
One of his rituals was that he would prepare a tray with food and a flask of water or wine once a day, and personally carry it up to the library. There he would leave it, on one of the many tables between ancient books and papers, before silently making his exit.
A long time ago a short discussion, or really, an argument with their librarian would have been on the plan as well, but Bahne hardly ever caught a glimpse of Caleb these days.
Bahne could appreciate a man with a sense for order and tidiness, though something told him that he should perhaps have considered the possibility that something was going seriously wrong once he, of all people, started to think of someone as obsessive and a little odd.
But Caleb was an oddity. He was always occupied with something, never at leisure... which under normal circumstances would have been admired by Bahne, but he knew that Caleb was to be pitied rather than envied.
The tower and many of its inhabitants had been particularly cruel to him, and in response he had hidden himself away behind his books and paranoia.
Caleb had always been a very opinionated sort of person - and although Bahne really couldn’t have claimed the same to be true for himself - they had often ended up having heated discussions over one thing or another. More often than not they had argued about the nature of the world they lived in, a subject that was particularly painful to Bahne, who preferred not to worry about such matters.
But still, whenever Caleb proclaimed Death and her people to be alternately demons or angels Bahne felt himself obligated to come to their defence, though Bahne’s obvious discomfort discussing this matter never helped his case in Caleb’s eyes.
Bahne didn’t know a thing about their true nature, no one really did. Even Konstanze, who had always been as close to Death as anyone was ever likely to get, had always just sort of shrugged when questioned about her origins. She was the first who had called her kind the Freaks, after being cursed as such and finding that she liked the sound of it.
Freaks. They weren’t inherently good or bad, but too flawed in their perceived perfection to be anything divine.
Of course Caleb wouldn’t hear any of it. He preferred to lose himself in his visions of a fallen world, of damnation and of punishments for imaginary crimes.
For the most part he was left to his own devices, mostly because there wasn’t a soul in the tower that didn’t think him crazy, but even now Bahne would visit the library once a day. Whether it was for the sake of some long forgotten sentimentality, or purely because a part of Bahne was still intrigued by a madman’s rants - despite his claims against such a thing - he could not have said.
17/100
Prompt:098.Writer‘s Choice [Cake]
Word Count: 458
Rating: G
By now he ought to have been above embarrassment, but to his great chagrin Bahne had recently discovered that this was far from being the case.
He didn’t know what exactly it was, but something about Dierdre’s presence was just too much for his poor nerves. The initial awkwardness upon finding out that there was some great mutual affection had thankfully long since passed - they would not have been able to stay in the same room with each other otherwise, for all the blushing and stuttering.
Leron especially enjoyed mercilessly teasing the two of them about their awkwardness, though he was far from being the only one. It had become a favourite topic for half the tower’s resident gossipers.
Bahne found their affectionate mockery to be less than amusing. His comfort zone was narrow, and he would have appreciated not to be laughed at for his inability to express his feelings above the sound of a whisper. Of course, things were slowly getting better, but Bahne was set in his ways firmly and it only took little things to throw him off.
Routine was everything. He made tea and sweets for her every day, and had done so for a very long time now. It was hard work - especially for him, who was only now learning to imagine again - but Bahne tried to come up with a new kind of dessert for Dierdre every day. Or as often as he could, anyway.
Dierdre was willing to be delighted by everything he gave her, and although Bahne could hardly believe that he was as skilled a pastry chef as she made him out to be, he didn’t dare and doubt that all of her compliments and smiles were sincere.
Making her smile was one of his greatest pleasures, and so he put extra effort into trying to please her.
Naturally this was next to impossible when work in her department had been slow one day, and she appeared by the kitchen door, politely asking whether her company would be welcome.
When was it not? Of course Bahne had invited her in. She had taken a seat at the table and busied herself drinking an early cup of tea.
For a while they had made conversation, which had been pleasant enough for a while. But her presence distracted Bahne, which in turn made him anxious of making mistakes, so naturally flour was spilled and his hands were shaking just a little when he was decorating the plate with delicate patterns of chocolate sauce.
As distressing as this had been for Bahne, when he was done Dierdre seemed as happy and grateful as ever, despite the imperfections of his work.
For once Bahne had found himself smiling back without much reserve.
’Verse/characters: The Tower, Bahne Haven
Prompt: 086.Choices
Word Count: 428
Rating: G
Do you want to live or die?
Back in the day when tradition still had some meaning, and when you couldn’t come and leave as you pleased, this was the first question you were asked before you were taken into the tower.
Like many traditions, this one started with Bahne. He had been but a child back then, a boy who was lost out in the woods, slowly freezing to death under an unforgiving steel-gray sky. Death herself had come for him, and she had been as cold and lifeless as the frozen ground below.
When she had looked down as him with those too-blue eyes, there had been no expression in them. No compassion and no cruelty. Nothing.
She must have asked him then.
‘Do you want to live?’
But Bahne can hardly remember any of it now; he couldn’t even describe what her voice had sounded like. But he is sure that she must have omitted the fact that this would have been his last chance to die a natural death. She must have, because she always does, and Bahne has heard many of his colleagues bemoaning their own decisions. Leron in particular had been very vocal about how he would have chosen death if he had known that his new life was meant to be eternal.
Life.
Against popular opinion Bahne had never grown weary of it. Of people, yes, and even of himself at times, but never of life. Not really, anyway. It is such a novel thing in the tower that he cannot help but cherish as well as fear it, like everything that is rare, or new.
Of course, he’s had his fair share of regrets, and sometimes even unknowingly selling his mortality for an empty life of nothing but static was one of them. It isn’t now, not for the moment anyway.
Life, whatever it might mean to him, went on. Bahne is trying to make the best of it.
He is getting bolder again these days, tries making decisions again instead of dwelling in the background like a shadow. Though he knows he is still miles away from anything resembling normality. But he tries, and Dierdre thinks that is what counts.
‘Do you want to die, or do you want to live forever?’
It should be an easy question, but somehow it never is. There are so many fears to face, so many things to consider and brood over.
Today Bahne isn’t sure what his answer would be.
All he knows is that he wants to start living at all.
’Verse/characters: The Tower, Bahne Haven
Prompt:024.Family
Word Count: 409
Rating: G
I have known Bahne for a long time now, and I can say without a doubt that he has been cracked and ruined, just by living with us.
Even as a boy he used to be remarkably dull - there wasn’t a thing that he would question, nothing he would not do if he was only asked. He never dreamed of impossible things, but when we gave them to him, he accepted them without comment or complaint.
Still, just being here has changed him. He has become cold and set in his ways so firmly; he might as well be made of stone. Sometimes it seems that he - like everything else in the tower - is a caricature of a living thing, rather than an accurate image of one. Bahne functions like clockwork, precise but mindless, no movement is accidental.
Yet, whenever I see him interact with one of our children I imagine that I can see the facade crumbling, that there is a person behind all the bows and discrete perfections. Then again, I am not enough of a romantic to delude myself in that regard.
Maybe he is just as perfect a father as he is a cleaner, or cook or gardener. If his work requires him to love someone or something unconditionally, you can trust in Bahne to be in it with all of his being. In fact I would go so far as to say that all children in the tower belong to him more than anyone else.
It is true; my people make horrific parents. You have never met a more selfish lot. But Bahne, he takes them all in, feeds them and educates them. He will even read them stories, or make some up if he has to - although he really has no imagination to speak of anymore.
You will not come by a child that grew up in the tower and that does not - in some way - think of Bahne as a father figure. All of them have taken bits and pieces from him, and as fake and broken as he became, I think any of those who survived this place with their sanity intact have Bahne to thank for it in some way.
Whether it is true or not, I am perfectly sure that he believes himself to love them all. And, as you know, in some cases all you need to make something real inside the tower is believe and hope.
’Verse/characters: The Tower, Bahne Haven
Prompt: 077.What?
Word Count: 570
Rating: G
Bahne had many little rituals and habits that carried him through the days easily. Routine - though often cursed and lamented by others - was a wonderful thing to him. As long as he was keeping busy, Bahne never felt trapped, never felt bored.
He could not say where he picked up most of his habits. Over time they had just sort come into existence, like everything in the tower tended to do, and sometimes they faded away again, too, just as quietly.
One of his rituals was that he would prepare a tray with food and a flask of water or wine once a day, and personally carry it up to the library. There he would leave it, on one of the many tables between ancient books and papers, before silently making his exit.
A long time ago a short discussion, or really, an argument with their librarian would have been on the plan as well, but Bahne hardly ever caught a glimpse of Caleb these days.
Bahne could appreciate a man with a sense for order and tidiness, though something told him that he should perhaps have considered the possibility that something was going seriously wrong once he, of all people, started to think of someone as obsessive and a little odd.
But Caleb was an oddity. He was always occupied with something, never at leisure... which under normal circumstances would have been admired by Bahne, but he knew that Caleb was to be pitied rather than envied.
The tower and many of its inhabitants had been particularly cruel to him, and in response he had hidden himself away behind his books and paranoia.
Caleb had always been a very opinionated sort of person - and although Bahne really couldn’t have claimed the same to be true for himself - they had often ended up having heated discussions over one thing or another. More often than not they had argued about the nature of the world they lived in, a subject that was particularly painful to Bahne, who preferred not to worry about such matters.
But still, whenever Caleb proclaimed Death and her people to be alternately demons or angels Bahne felt himself obligated to come to their defence, though Bahne’s obvious discomfort discussing this matter never helped his case in Caleb’s eyes.
Bahne didn’t know a thing about their true nature, no one really did. Even Konstanze, who had always been as close to Death as anyone was ever likely to get, had always just sort of shrugged when questioned about her origins. She was the first who had called her kind the Freaks, after being cursed as such and finding that she liked the sound of it.
Freaks. They weren’t inherently good or bad, but too flawed in their perceived perfection to be anything divine.
Of course Caleb wouldn’t hear any of it. He preferred to lose himself in his visions of a fallen world, of damnation and of punishments for imaginary crimes.
For the most part he was left to his own devices, mostly because there wasn’t a soul in the tower that didn’t think him crazy, but even now Bahne would visit the library once a day. Whether it was for the sake of some long forgotten sentimentality, or purely because a part of Bahne was still intrigued by a madman’s rants - despite his claims against such a thing - he could not have said.
17/100