It's frickin' freezing in here, Mr. Bigglesworth
I'm still in Japan, kids. Just in case anyone was wonderin'. Haven't been around lately...too busy TRAVELLING UP THE HOO-HAH! ^________^
I'm finally starting to have feel like I have a life outside of eikaiwa, which may or may not come to a screeching halt next week when all the successful schools get a free weekend in Kyoto. I've decided to make a rule - it'll probably sound better disguising it as an impromptu idea on the train - but I'm making a point to tell everyone to shut the hell up when it comes to school matters. Honestly, I feel surrounded by drones. And it sucks. No one can talk about anything that is not work-related, and I don't think I can deal with that on my weekend, outside of the school (although this will be a work-related vacation...errgh...). I mean, doesn't anyone have a FAMILY MEMBER they can talk about? Let's hear about Uncle Jiro's fish market in Sapporo, or Obaachan's flatulence finally going down. Anything that is not so-and-so's contract renewal, for crap's sake, NO MORE.
Moving on...
Yet in a similar thread...
I still feel like I have no friends outside of school, which is a load of buttcrap now that I've typed it out, so I guess I feel like I want to make more friends. So I've decided to stop procrastinating and reply to a couple of ads in Kansai Scene magazine looking for language exchange partners. A couple of them sound really good and I like the heavy implications that they are not looking for sex maniacs. The only problem is, I have an ulterior motive. That motive is to find someone cute, fairly intelligent and most importantly, not a psychopath who can hook me up with a spousal visa sometime in the near-to-distant future. That's the sad truth of it. I'm an extremely awkward, eccentric, frizzy-haired book nerd permanently cursed with the mentality of a twelve-year-old girl looking for her prince charming. Aaaand I kinda want to come back to Japan and work here in a few years without all the pain and agony of doing the settling-in work myself.
Maybe I should just put all that in an ad of my own.
Anyhoo, I want to meet someone without going through the whole process of "holy crap she sounded so cool on the internet but it turns out she's HIDEOUS" I get with meeting guys. The internet sounds like a good way of doing so. Then again, when has the internet ever been right?
Hmmmm. This post wasn't as awesome as I wanted it to sound. Ah, this popcorn from the fridge ought to help. Okay, take two - cool post starting now:
I wish I could remember what the party was for. Every week there was something, right down to the most trivial event, like the new king cutting his fourth tooth. I was in no position to ask questions then. My only duty was to serve and protect, and I did just that.
I only wish I could have done more.
All her dresses were beautiful. Or perhaps, it was the fact that she was beautiful that made everything hanging from her frame look like gossamer spun from gold. But on this day, she looked more beautiful than ever. Her dress that night was lotus pink, cut and shredded into thin layers making it light and fluffy. When she bounded down the halls and up the stairs, everything trailed behind her. She looked like she tore her way through a tunnel of pink spider webs. She had just leapt from the bowl of a cotton candy spinner. The rose maze the queen prided herself upon so much had been ripped to shreds in her daughter's delicate piano-player hands, the blood red and snow white seeping into each other like drops of blood and milk, to make this colour now wrapped around her small waist and sleek biceps, with just enough left to strand through her long, black tassel hair.
Our commander wouldn't let us eat lunch that day. Only breakfast, and another meal after all the guests had gone home. That would probably explain why I felt so hungry looking at her, and if I hadn't been threatened with death at her coming to the slightest harm, I would have eaten her.
Getting paid to follow every move of the woman of your dreams. I was in heaven and in hell that night. In my short career as a knight to the royal family, I had never run so much in my life as I did that night. Who knew this gentle creature who often stood by her mother and father's side, silent and demure as a doe, could outrun the fastest men I knew? I had never wished so hard to enter her mind to know what excited her so. What sign in the stars, what scent on the wind, had warned her to live this night like it was her last on Earth? To throw all her royal demeanor to the wind, to kick off her heels and tear through the world, not giving a damn about the poor slovenly sap charged with death should he lose sight of her. It was the only time I had the courage to speak to her, and yet I barely had enough breath in me. I only lost sight of her for a second from the ballroom to the abandoned fountain room in the east wing - it was the scent of her bandit's load of fondant cakes that drew me to her. I remember collapsing to my knees in relief, gasping to her: "Please, your Highness...not so fast..." She turned to me after a moment, her mouth full of sweets. She finished chewing and swallowed. Her pixie grin warmed my heart. I don't think she heard what I said at all. She only studied me for a moment, then offered me her last cake. It was tiny and pink, like her and her dress. I contemplated eating it from her hand as I knelt in front of her. It would have been worth the punishment.
But I didn't get that chance. Just as I was inching towards it the sound of yammering guests startled me and I jumped to my feet. She dropped the cake. We studied it for a moment like a piece of modern art. She must like me, I thought to myself out of the blue.
That was when the fireworks began.
As I chased after her up four flights of stairs to the castle rooftop, I kept wondering how the hell she got past me. I was blocking the door, and I fancy myself a pretty big guy. This girl was a minx or something. One of those forest creatures you can never catch without having to shoot it in order to slow it down. She could never be caught, with her gorgeous dress and sweet-smelling skin and midnight hair. She would run laps around the world time and time again, while I grew old and useless. I would be an old man, peaceful and content in my bedpan, until I realized that she was still beautiful and powerful and so many things I could never understand, and that would be the moment I would die old and embittered by the cruelty of the world. I stared at her back as she gaped at the bursts of colour in the dark skies, wanting more than anything to wrap my arms around her and taste her, miles above the world where no one could stop me. I probably should have, looking back now...
Then again, I'm an idiot.
What happened next remains a blur. I can't remember when the rainbow sparkles of light turned to fire. I can't remember when my commander pulled me to his side, targeting on my arm through all the nobles and politicians running amok around us. The mob of frightened upstarts trampling to escape, the legions of soldiers that outnumbered us, the retreat into the dark unknown of the forest as we broke ranks. Worst of all, I can't remember what separated me from my charge, who I loved so dearly despite the fact that I knew nothing about her, and pulled me down from the roof to the grounds below. Nor can I remember what made me struggle out of my commander's arms just in time to see her still on the roof. I recognized the silhouette of her dress immediately, backlit by fire. I remember at least three pairs of hands, pulling me deeper into the woods as I saw her shadow turning this way and that as if looking for something or someone, like a lost little girl. My last memory of that night before vomiting and passing out was seeing her shadow fall from the sky, her legs kicking and her arms flailing, but no scream to accompany it.
Now that I think about it, I never heard her say anything. It was quite possible she couldn't talk at all.
We went back, eventually. The castle was in ruins, everything valuable gone the commander told us. What an asshole. He knew damn good and well there was only one thing of value in that place.
Most of the bodies had been tossed into the castle pool, which my fellows and I started working on immediately. A lot of recognizable faces, but not the one I expected to find. The king and queen might be glad to hear that, I surmised grimly. Somehow we drained the water out. The others were still searching through the castle for survivors, be they friend or foe. We were more than happy to get our hands on some of the latter. I however, couldn't pull myself away from the empty pool, deep and dark like a cavern. I must have squatted beside it, immune to the stench of death, for hours, looking for something. Anything.
My time was not wasted.
A small blue light winked at me, tucked away in a corner, like a fallen jewel. I jumped down without a thought and ran to it like a desperate beggar finding gold. It jutted out from the tile several inches taller and wider than the other pieces. Even with my friends and commander bellowing at me that I had gone mad, I struggled to dig it out. In my frustration I pounded it with my fist. It emitted a loud click, accompanied by the sound of grating metal behind me. There, at the bottom of the castle pool five meters into the earth, was a small tunnel.
Over the next few days we worked our way through miles of a sewer labyrinthe, an ancient entrance/escape route that was impossible to navigate without an expert swimmer who could hold his breath for minutes at a stretch. Research would reveal that it was not intended for the royal family, but for the royal guard to penetrate the castle grounds should trouble arise, such as the incident that night. We saw how useful that turned out to be for us.
But I still hope in my heart that it was useful to someone. You know who I mean. We never found her body, nor did we find traces of her on the other side of the maze, which came up through a small pond in a local graveyard days away from the castle. We still wait for her return. The day she will come and overthrow the enemy that took her family out of power and destroyed all we held dear. As I lay here in my bedpan, once peaceful and now bitter, I hope to see her again. Now and then I do, still running through my mind, still beautiful and powerful and so many things I will never understand...
If you liked that, you should have seen the time Voldemort had a demon horse. A demon horse named Sugar. Good times.
I'm finally starting to have feel like I have a life outside of eikaiwa, which may or may not come to a screeching halt next week when all the successful schools get a free weekend in Kyoto. I've decided to make a rule - it'll probably sound better disguising it as an impromptu idea on the train - but I'm making a point to tell everyone to shut the hell up when it comes to school matters. Honestly, I feel surrounded by drones. And it sucks. No one can talk about anything that is not work-related, and I don't think I can deal with that on my weekend, outside of the school (although this will be a work-related vacation...errgh...). I mean, doesn't anyone have a FAMILY MEMBER they can talk about? Let's hear about Uncle Jiro's fish market in Sapporo, or Obaachan's flatulence finally going down. Anything that is not so-and-so's contract renewal, for crap's sake, NO MORE.
Moving on...
Yet in a similar thread...
I still feel like I have no friends outside of school, which is a load of buttcrap now that I've typed it out, so I guess I feel like I want to make more friends. So I've decided to stop procrastinating and reply to a couple of ads in Kansai Scene magazine looking for language exchange partners. A couple of them sound really good and I like the heavy implications that they are not looking for sex maniacs. The only problem is, I have an ulterior motive. That motive is to find someone cute, fairly intelligent and most importantly, not a psychopath who can hook me up with a spousal visa sometime in the near-to-distant future. That's the sad truth of it. I'm an extremely awkward, eccentric, frizzy-haired book nerd permanently cursed with the mentality of a twelve-year-old girl looking for her prince charming. Aaaand I kinda want to come back to Japan and work here in a few years without all the pain and agony of doing the settling-in work myself.
Maybe I should just put all that in an ad of my own.
Anyhoo, I want to meet someone without going through the whole process of "holy crap she sounded so cool on the internet but it turns out she's HIDEOUS" I get with meeting guys. The internet sounds like a good way of doing so. Then again, when has the internet ever been right?
Hmmmm. This post wasn't as awesome as I wanted it to sound. Ah, this popcorn from the fridge ought to help. Okay, take two - cool post starting now:
I wish I could remember what the party was for. Every week there was something, right down to the most trivial event, like the new king cutting his fourth tooth. I was in no position to ask questions then. My only duty was to serve and protect, and I did just that.
I only wish I could have done more.
All her dresses were beautiful. Or perhaps, it was the fact that she was beautiful that made everything hanging from her frame look like gossamer spun from gold. But on this day, she looked more beautiful than ever. Her dress that night was lotus pink, cut and shredded into thin layers making it light and fluffy. When she bounded down the halls and up the stairs, everything trailed behind her. She looked like she tore her way through a tunnel of pink spider webs. She had just leapt from the bowl of a cotton candy spinner. The rose maze the queen prided herself upon so much had been ripped to shreds in her daughter's delicate piano-player hands, the blood red and snow white seeping into each other like drops of blood and milk, to make this colour now wrapped around her small waist and sleek biceps, with just enough left to strand through her long, black tassel hair.
Our commander wouldn't let us eat lunch that day. Only breakfast, and another meal after all the guests had gone home. That would probably explain why I felt so hungry looking at her, and if I hadn't been threatened with death at her coming to the slightest harm, I would have eaten her.
Getting paid to follow every move of the woman of your dreams. I was in heaven and in hell that night. In my short career as a knight to the royal family, I had never run so much in my life as I did that night. Who knew this gentle creature who often stood by her mother and father's side, silent and demure as a doe, could outrun the fastest men I knew? I had never wished so hard to enter her mind to know what excited her so. What sign in the stars, what scent on the wind, had warned her to live this night like it was her last on Earth? To throw all her royal demeanor to the wind, to kick off her heels and tear through the world, not giving a damn about the poor slovenly sap charged with death should he lose sight of her. It was the only time I had the courage to speak to her, and yet I barely had enough breath in me. I only lost sight of her for a second from the ballroom to the abandoned fountain room in the east wing - it was the scent of her bandit's load of fondant cakes that drew me to her. I remember collapsing to my knees in relief, gasping to her: "Please, your Highness...not so fast..." She turned to me after a moment, her mouth full of sweets. She finished chewing and swallowed. Her pixie grin warmed my heart. I don't think she heard what I said at all. She only studied me for a moment, then offered me her last cake. It was tiny and pink, like her and her dress. I contemplated eating it from her hand as I knelt in front of her. It would have been worth the punishment.
But I didn't get that chance. Just as I was inching towards it the sound of yammering guests startled me and I jumped to my feet. She dropped the cake. We studied it for a moment like a piece of modern art. She must like me, I thought to myself out of the blue.
That was when the fireworks began.
As I chased after her up four flights of stairs to the castle rooftop, I kept wondering how the hell she got past me. I was blocking the door, and I fancy myself a pretty big guy. This girl was a minx or something. One of those forest creatures you can never catch without having to shoot it in order to slow it down. She could never be caught, with her gorgeous dress and sweet-smelling skin and midnight hair. She would run laps around the world time and time again, while I grew old and useless. I would be an old man, peaceful and content in my bedpan, until I realized that she was still beautiful and powerful and so many things I could never understand, and that would be the moment I would die old and embittered by the cruelty of the world. I stared at her back as she gaped at the bursts of colour in the dark skies, wanting more than anything to wrap my arms around her and taste her, miles above the world where no one could stop me. I probably should have, looking back now...
Then again, I'm an idiot.
What happened next remains a blur. I can't remember when the rainbow sparkles of light turned to fire. I can't remember when my commander pulled me to his side, targeting on my arm through all the nobles and politicians running amok around us. The mob of frightened upstarts trampling to escape, the legions of soldiers that outnumbered us, the retreat into the dark unknown of the forest as we broke ranks. Worst of all, I can't remember what separated me from my charge, who I loved so dearly despite the fact that I knew nothing about her, and pulled me down from the roof to the grounds below. Nor can I remember what made me struggle out of my commander's arms just in time to see her still on the roof. I recognized the silhouette of her dress immediately, backlit by fire. I remember at least three pairs of hands, pulling me deeper into the woods as I saw her shadow turning this way and that as if looking for something or someone, like a lost little girl. My last memory of that night before vomiting and passing out was seeing her shadow fall from the sky, her legs kicking and her arms flailing, but no scream to accompany it.
Now that I think about it, I never heard her say anything. It was quite possible she couldn't talk at all.
We went back, eventually. The castle was in ruins, everything valuable gone the commander told us. What an asshole. He knew damn good and well there was only one thing of value in that place.
Most of the bodies had been tossed into the castle pool, which my fellows and I started working on immediately. A lot of recognizable faces, but not the one I expected to find. The king and queen might be glad to hear that, I surmised grimly. Somehow we drained the water out. The others were still searching through the castle for survivors, be they friend or foe. We were more than happy to get our hands on some of the latter. I however, couldn't pull myself away from the empty pool, deep and dark like a cavern. I must have squatted beside it, immune to the stench of death, for hours, looking for something. Anything.
My time was not wasted.
A small blue light winked at me, tucked away in a corner, like a fallen jewel. I jumped down without a thought and ran to it like a desperate beggar finding gold. It jutted out from the tile several inches taller and wider than the other pieces. Even with my friends and commander bellowing at me that I had gone mad, I struggled to dig it out. In my frustration I pounded it with my fist. It emitted a loud click, accompanied by the sound of grating metal behind me. There, at the bottom of the castle pool five meters into the earth, was a small tunnel.
Over the next few days we worked our way through miles of a sewer labyrinthe, an ancient entrance/escape route that was impossible to navigate without an expert swimmer who could hold his breath for minutes at a stretch. Research would reveal that it was not intended for the royal family, but for the royal guard to penetrate the castle grounds should trouble arise, such as the incident that night. We saw how useful that turned out to be for us.
But I still hope in my heart that it was useful to someone. You know who I mean. We never found her body, nor did we find traces of her on the other side of the maze, which came up through a small pond in a local graveyard days away from the castle. We still wait for her return. The day she will come and overthrow the enemy that took her family out of power and destroyed all we held dear. As I lay here in my bedpan, once peaceful and now bitter, I hope to see her again. Now and then I do, still running through my mind, still beautiful and powerful and so many things I will never understand...
If you liked that, you should have seen the time Voldemort had a demon horse. A demon horse named Sugar. Good times.