A Sky to Hold Them – The Right Hand [2a/?]
anonymous
October 24 2010, 18:35:57 UTC
The slim Japanese man (Kiku, Ludwig reminded himself) smiled very slightly. It was early evening and they were in Kiku’s suite. Somehow, it had been decorated with all the accoutrements of Japan, with wall scrolls, a simple vase filled with painstakingly arranged chrysanthemum blossoms, and bamboo mats covering the hardwood floor. The room was rather comfortable in the Spartan simplicity, though Ludwig had a faint nagging feeling that he might just end up disturbing Zen harmony without realizing it.
“Do you take tea?” Kiku asked in his very careful Italian. It was strongly accented but he spoke slowly and clearly enough to be understood.
“If it isn’t any trouble.”
“Not at all.” The small man bustled around the suite’s parlor, brewing tea and pouring out the bitter, astringent scented liquid into a pair of cylindrical cups.
Ludwig negotiated his legs into a kneeling position after seeing Kiku do the same. The other man wore a pearl gray suit, as expensive as anything Ludwig had seen the other “family” members wore. Clearly custom fitted and tailored, as it fit the man perfectly and seemed to make movements as unrestricted as possible.
“Thank you,” Ludwig said as he took the tea and clumsily imitated Kiku’s precise hold upon the cup, one hand curled around it and one hand supporting the base.
Kiku kept that faint smile. It might have been just a little condescending and certainly it would swiftly become grating. However, for the moment… he only looked perfectly polite, not too overbearing nor too aloof.
“Please make yourself comfortable,” he said.
Ludwig tried a cautious sip of the tea, which was actually rather good, as his prior experience to tea was Roderich’s black tea blends. The bitterness was very different from coffee, cleaner. They sat in silence, Kiku looking almost as serene as the bronze statuette of a god (or possibly spiritual figure) set up on a small shrine nearby and Ludwig feeling just faintly uncomfortable.
After possibly a few minutes of this, at least until they had both finished their tea, Ludwig spoke. “You are supposed to be teaching me?” he asked, keeping his own shaky Italian slow and careful.
“Yes.”
“What exactly?”
“How to control the Flame.” Kiku set down his cup at last. He turned over his right hand, palm upwards. Blue flames came to life, surrounding his fingers. However… these flames were deep blue.
“Arthur called them Rain Flames.”
Kiku nodded. “Of the Rain. This is the Flame of Tranquility. It slows and calms.” He had to pause to mull over his next few words, brow furrowing just a little. “It stops things.”
“Fire can do that?”
Kiku’s mouth twitched a little. “Not really fire,” he said. “Just… easier to think of as fire. It is energy.”
“Ah.” So it was rather Zen, all in all.
Kiku turned his hand over and the Flame flickered and died, leaving only a pale, small hand. He paused and then extended it with a bow.
“I am glad to be your teacher in this, Lu- Signor Ludwig,” he said.
Ludwig took the proffered hand and shook it. “Just Ludwig is fine,” he replied “Is it Honda or Kiku?”
“Whatever most convenient,” the small man demurred, pulling his hand away. He pushed over a small glass pill bottle filled with very familiar white tablets. “Please take one and we can begin.”
Ludwig eyed the bottle with barely concealed wariness. Kiku said softly, “Do not worry. The first time is always… bad.”
A Sky to Hold Them – The Right Hand [2b/?]
anonymous
October 24 2010, 18:37:48 UTC
Ludwig opened the bottle, a little irked at having his own trepidation pointed out to him, and rolled out a single pill. He swallowed it and waited for the sledgehammer jolt of pain.
Instead, he only felt an uncomfortable pressure at his temples, a pounding rhythm that made him grit his teeth (which only made the pressure worse. He relaxed his jaw as best he could. Then he felt his skin contract, as if a cool, damp wind had raked across his arms. Ludwig felt the strange, peculiar calm fill him again and he could watch dispassionately at the blue fire flickering across his fingers.
“How do I control it then?” Ludwig asked, not particularly expecting an answer. “What is this for?”
The Japanese man tilted his head ever so slightly. “Well, depends on what you need.” He lifted his hand and blue flames flickered upwards.
Even as the tongues of fire licked up, they shuddered and shivered, looking peculiarly like sheets of water, the front of a smooth waterfall marked by rainfall.
“Think of your regret,” Kiku said, his voice pleasant and low. He wasn’t smiling serenely and just a little oddly but his face lacked the- tautness of most people’s. The sky could fall through the ceiling and he would barely bat an eye.
“Regret?”
“That is what feeds the Flame. Regret. Refusal to-” Here, Kiku hesitated, clearly groping for the right words. “To die. To leave business.”
“Fear?” Ludwig asked with just a shade of distaste. The flames on his own fingers fluttered erratically, as if a strong breeze had swept through the room.
Kiku did smile faintly now. “Fear is not bad. Fear of death is only natural, no?”
The thought that he had work to do warred with the thought that death was implacable, unable to be petitioned or halted for very long. It wasn’t that he was frightened of death, no more than any other person. But even the very idea of inevitability struck through the suddenly false, suddenly fragile calm that had filled his skull. With a final flutter, the flames on Ludwig’s hands faded.
“Try again, please,” said Kiku, with no sign of disappointment or disregard.
(ooc: Ludwig’s somewhat troubled (brief) meditations on death: remember he grew up in a very rough world. Death was pretty much an inevitability, he learned quickly. That’s the kind of thing that sticks to a person, even if his memory is pretty awful in other aspects.
Language: Pretty much everyone speaks Italian with each other. Ludwig got the immersion approach, the cultural equivalent of throwing someone in the deep end of the pool to see if they sink or swim. So his Italian is passable. The exceptions to the rule are Arthur’s conversations with Ludwig (which are in German) and Arthur’s… interactions with Yao, which I will get into further in the future.
Also… The storyline is going to seem a little- disjointed. It’ll be going along in a fairly linear progression but I’m writing this as a series of scenes more than anything else.)
Re: A Sky to Hold Them – The Right Hand [2b/?]
anonymous
October 24 2010, 21:21:37 UTC
your kiku. so lovely. it's hard to find kiku with a personality--it's really hard, that's my opinion, and you really did such a good job. he's so polite, so unobtrusive...really mysterious, i think. please keep writing!
not OP, but definitely a fan/follower
anonymous
October 25 2010, 05:38:20 UTC
Yay, an update!
I love the introspection and subdueness (is that a word?) in your narrative in general, and how it is influenced by the characters. For the most part, so controlled and entirely too much fun to read. Can't wait for Ludwig's interaction with the other Guardians (hmmmm, wonder how it would be like between him and Ivan?) Would Ludwig ever find out Feliciano is Feli in his memory?! Oh, the suspense, the suspense!
reCaptcha says "fantess CHAPTER" - is that a sign?!
Re: A Sky to Hold Them – The Right Hand [2b/?]
anonymous
October 25 2010, 10:42:28 UTC
...you know, when I saw this in the Fills list, I screamed. :D But now allow me to offer you a less embarrassing "thank you very much for continuing this!"
“Do you take tea?” Kiku asked in his very careful Italian. It was strongly accented but he spoke slowly and clearly enough to be understood.
“If it isn’t any trouble.”
“Not at all.” The small man bustled around the suite’s parlor, brewing tea and pouring out the bitter, astringent scented liquid into a pair of cylindrical cups.
Ludwig negotiated his legs into a kneeling position after seeing Kiku do the same. The other man wore a pearl gray suit, as expensive as anything Ludwig had seen the other “family” members wore. Clearly custom fitted and tailored, as it fit the man perfectly and seemed to make movements as unrestricted as possible.
“Thank you,” Ludwig said as he took the tea and clumsily imitated Kiku’s precise hold upon the cup, one hand curled around it and one hand supporting the base.
Kiku kept that faint smile. It might have been just a little condescending and certainly it would swiftly become grating. However, for the moment… he only looked perfectly polite, not too overbearing nor too aloof.
“Please make yourself comfortable,” he said.
Ludwig tried a cautious sip of the tea, which was actually rather good, as his prior experience to tea was Roderich’s black tea blends. The bitterness was very different from coffee, cleaner. They sat in silence, Kiku looking almost as serene as the bronze statuette of a god (or possibly spiritual figure) set up on a small shrine nearby and Ludwig feeling just faintly uncomfortable.
After possibly a few minutes of this, at least until they had both finished their tea, Ludwig spoke. “You are supposed to be teaching me?” he asked, keeping his own shaky Italian slow and careful.
“Yes.”
“What exactly?”
“How to control the Flame.” Kiku set down his cup at last. He turned over his right hand, palm upwards. Blue flames came to life, surrounding his fingers. However… these flames were deep blue.
“Arthur called them Rain Flames.”
Kiku nodded. “Of the Rain. This is the Flame of Tranquility. It slows and calms.” He had to pause to mull over his next few words, brow furrowing just a little. “It stops things.”
“Fire can do that?”
Kiku’s mouth twitched a little. “Not really fire,” he said. “Just… easier to think of as fire. It is energy.”
“Ah.” So it was rather Zen, all in all.
Kiku turned his hand over and the Flame flickered and died, leaving only a pale, small hand. He paused and then extended it with a bow.
“I am glad to be your teacher in this, Lu- Signor Ludwig,” he said.
Ludwig took the proffered hand and shook it. “Just Ludwig is fine,” he replied “Is it Honda or Kiku?”
“Whatever most convenient,” the small man demurred, pulling his hand away. He pushed over a small glass pill bottle filled with very familiar white tablets. “Please take one and we can begin.”
Ludwig eyed the bottle with barely concealed wariness. Kiku said softly, “Do not worry. The first time is always… bad.”
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Instead, he only felt an uncomfortable pressure at his temples, a pounding rhythm that made him grit his teeth (which only made the pressure worse. He relaxed his jaw as best he could. Then he felt his skin contract, as if a cool, damp wind had raked across his arms. Ludwig felt the strange, peculiar calm fill him again and he could watch dispassionately at the blue fire flickering across his fingers.
“How do I control it then?” Ludwig asked, not particularly expecting an answer. “What is this for?”
The Japanese man tilted his head ever so slightly. “Well, depends on what you need.” He lifted his hand and blue flames flickered upwards.
Even as the tongues of fire licked up, they shuddered and shivered, looking peculiarly like sheets of water, the front of a smooth waterfall marked by rainfall.
“Think of your regret,” Kiku said, his voice pleasant and low. He wasn’t smiling serenely and just a little oddly but his face lacked the- tautness of most people’s. The sky could fall through the ceiling and he would barely bat an eye.
“Regret?”
“That is what feeds the Flame. Regret. Refusal to-” Here, Kiku hesitated, clearly groping for the right words. “To die. To leave business.”
“Fear?” Ludwig asked with just a shade of distaste. The flames on his own fingers fluttered erratically, as if a strong breeze had swept through the room.
Kiku did smile faintly now. “Fear is not bad. Fear of death is only natural, no?”
The thought that he had work to do warred with the thought that death was implacable, unable to be petitioned or halted for very long. It wasn’t that he was frightened of death, no more than any other person. But even the very idea of inevitability struck through the suddenly false, suddenly fragile calm that had filled his skull. With a final flutter, the flames on Ludwig’s hands faded.
“Try again, please,” said Kiku, with no sign of disappointment or disregard.
(ooc:
Ludwig’s somewhat troubled (brief) meditations on death: remember he grew up in a very rough world. Death was pretty much an inevitability, he learned quickly. That’s the kind of thing that sticks to a person, even if his memory is pretty awful in other aspects.
Language: Pretty much everyone speaks Italian with each other. Ludwig got the immersion approach, the cultural equivalent of throwing someone in the deep end of the pool to see if they sink or swim. So his Italian is passable. The exceptions to the rule are Arthur’s conversations with Ludwig (which are in German) and Arthur’s… interactions with Yao, which I will get into further in the future.
Also… The storyline is going to seem a little- disjointed. It’ll be going along in a fairly linear progression but I’m writing this as a series of scenes more than anything else.)
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it's hard to find kiku with a personality--it's really hard, that's my opinion, and you really did such a good job. he's so polite, so unobtrusive...really mysterious, i think.
please keep writing!
Reply
I love the introspection and subdueness (is that a word?) in your narrative in general, and how it is influenced by the characters. For the most part, so controlled and entirely too much fun to read. Can't wait for Ludwig's interaction with the other Guardians (hmmmm, wonder how it would be like between him and Ivan?) Would Ludwig ever find out Feliciano is Feli in his memory?! Oh, the suspense, the suspense!
reCaptcha says "fantess CHAPTER" - is that a sign?!
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<33333
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