Boy of Blue, Eyes of Sapphire, Heart of Ice?
Blue staggered down the hall along a pathway of beaten copper etched with tiny veins of cobalt. The walls were twilight hued ceramic tiles. He went through a place filled with turning cogs, followed by a white tiled subway stop, then past an Olympic sized swimming pool complete with twenty foot high diving boards. He went through several different studies, one lined with only blue books, another filled with maps, and the third with ink and quills lying next to thousands of unfinished scrolls upon small desks with even smaller stools. There was even a cobbler's workbench from the Middle Ages with hammer and nails, leather and soles, all haphazardly dropped as if the cobbler's family had had to leave in an hurry during the middle of the day.
The unheard prompts always just out of earshot beckoning him onward was not that startling. Blue found himself being thrown in with beings of unusual intelligence often. If it wasn't the Magic Mirror or the head of Frankenstein, it was a semi-sentient cloak and bipolar sword. He paused often in his sojourn to rest a hand upon the wall, reorienting himself but also to get used to the touch of this new place.
He had a headache and was still buzzing from the beers, so large tracks of the journey were hazy in his mind. He had a well honed sense of both time and space from years wandering magical forests and enchanted meadows looking for lost sheep, but all that was short circuited. But it was soothing to walk largely alone with minimal distractions or looks. Just him, his cloak, and the phone booth.
Make yourself at home, the empathic resonances seemed to suggest.
Quite unexpectedly, Blue came across a well-appointed bedroom with an adjoining bathroom and mini-launderette that more than likely hadn't been in that exact spot until right before Blue wandered up to it. In the bedroom upon a table were meats, cheeses, and vegetables fresh from the galley, and several jugs of water.
Blue grunted gratitude and patted the wall like he might the head of a dog.
He stripped off his clothes and let his cloak go. The cloak didn't fall to the ground, it just stood there in defiance of gravity. The clothes were another story, and they carried many stories with them. His boots were covered in dirt and grime from at least two different worlds, but it could have been more depending on were the last set of sheep had come from. His pants and shirt were soaked with ale from a hundred different taverns.
He stood beneath scolding hot water in the shower and let it carry away the years and his thoughts. The heat pressed into his skin and massaged weary muscles. The steam had a hint of eucalyptus, which tingled his lungs. There was an apothecary's assortment of soaps and lotions to choose from. Despite or in spite of the loss of his latest lover, he jerked off twice.
There was even a proper toothbrush in the sink and toothpaste with an odd blue and silver label with an iconography he couldn't make out. None of which stopped him from brushing off months of grime and neglect from his mouth. It was good to be clean.
She had too much hope, perhaps that was the best word to use, to ever speak a word of his declining state of hygiene. She'd accepted him however he was when he showed up. She'd never spoken of his quest or his failures. They'd make out and nestle in each other's arms for hours in the longest foreplay Blue had ever had the pleasure of partaking in his long life. Now standing before the table of food and water, he found himself crying again for being so shitty to her in her darkest hour. He cold have been more for her while she was alive.
Blue pinched the bridge of his nose and winced against a new wave of tears bubbling and bleeding from beneath his eye lids. The felt like molten lava, burning their way across his face. He wavered and then caught himself on the back of one of the chairs.
"I can't sleep until we've had the wake." He knelt then and patted the floor. "You understand that, don't you?" He pressed his temple to the floor and let memories of not just the Childlike Empress but all of his friends and love ones now gone. He got lost in them and their grief, but he found his way back. He always did.
He whistled and the cloak leapt through the air and settled about his back again. From its depths, he withdrew one of the few outfits that were still in perfect immaculate condition. He laid out his blue dragon scale tunic. The matching gloves, pants, and boots. All the purest sapphire blue. To this he added his blue mask. He stepped back for a moment and just looked at them.
He looked around at the room. Nodding to himself, he put on his old vigilante outfit. It felt right. He whirled, sweeping his cloak off his shoulders and catching the entire table and platter of food. They all disappeared into its infinite depths. He added the chair on a second pass. Then he alighted the cloak back upon his shoulders.
He was still hungover, but he set back out in search of a proper place to host a wake.
Blue staggered down the hall along a pathway of beaten copper etched with tiny veins of cobalt. The walls were twilight hued ceramic tiles. He went through a place filled with turning cogs, followed by a white tiled subway stop, then past an Olympic sized swimming pool complete with twenty foot high diving boards. He went through several different studies, one lined with only blue books, another filled with maps, and the third with ink and quills lying next to thousands of unfinished scrolls upon small desks with even smaller stools. There was even a cobbler's workbench from the Middle Ages with hammer and nails, leather and soles, all haphazardly dropped as if the cobbler's family had had to leave in an hurry during the middle of the day.
The unheard prompts always just out of earshot beckoning him onward was not that startling. Blue found himself being thrown in with beings of unusual intelligence often. If it wasn't the Magic Mirror or the head of Frankenstein, it was a semi-sentient cloak and bipolar sword. He paused often in his sojourn to rest a hand upon the wall, reorienting himself but also to get used to the touch of this new place.
He had a headache and was still buzzing from the beers, so large tracks of the journey were hazy in his mind. He had a well honed sense of both time and space from years wandering magical forests and enchanted meadows looking for lost sheep, but all that was short circuited. But it was soothing to walk largely alone with minimal distractions or looks. Just him, his cloak, and the phone booth.
Make yourself at home, the empathic resonances seemed to suggest.
Quite unexpectedly, Blue came across a well-appointed bedroom with an adjoining bathroom and mini-launderette that more than likely hadn't been in that exact spot until right before Blue wandered up to it. In the bedroom upon a table were meats, cheeses, and vegetables fresh from the galley, and several jugs of water.
Blue grunted gratitude and patted the wall like he might the head of a dog.
He stripped off his clothes and let his cloak go. The cloak didn't fall to the ground, it just stood there in defiance of gravity. The clothes were another story, and they carried many stories with them. His boots were covered in dirt and grime from at least two different worlds, but it could have been more depending on were the last set of sheep had come from. His pants and shirt were soaked with ale from a hundred different taverns.
He stood beneath scolding hot water in the shower and let it carry away the years and his thoughts. The heat pressed into his skin and massaged weary muscles. The steam had a hint of eucalyptus, which tingled his lungs. There was an apothecary's assortment of soaps and lotions to choose from. Despite or in spite of the loss of his latest lover, he jerked off twice.
There was even a proper toothbrush in the sink and toothpaste with an odd blue and silver label with an iconography he couldn't make out. None of which stopped him from brushing off months of grime and neglect from his mouth. It was good to be clean.
She had too much hope, perhaps that was the best word to use, to ever speak a word of his declining state of hygiene. She'd accepted him however he was when he showed up. She'd never spoken of his quest or his failures. They'd make out and nestle in each other's arms for hours in the longest foreplay Blue had ever had the pleasure of partaking in his long life. Now standing before the table of food and water, he found himself crying again for being so shitty to her in her darkest hour. He cold have been more for her while she was alive.
Childlike Empress said:
Blue pinched the bridge of his nose and winced against a new wave of tears bubbling and bleeding from beneath his eye lids. The felt like molten lava, burning their way across his face. He wavered and then caught himself on the back of one of the chairs.
"I can't sleep until we've had the wake." He knelt then and patted the floor. "You understand that, don't you?" He pressed his temple to the floor and let memories of not just the Childlike Empress but all of his friends and love ones now gone. He got lost in them and their grief, but he found his way back. He always did.
He whistled and the cloak leapt through the air and settled about his back again. From its depths, he withdrew one of the few outfits that were still in perfect immaculate condition. He laid out his blue dragon scale tunic. The matching gloves, pants, and boots. All the purest sapphire blue. To this he added his blue mask. He stepped back for a moment and just looked at them.
Childlike Empress said:
He looked around at the room. Nodding to himself, he put on his old vigilante outfit. It felt right. He whirled, sweeping his cloak off his shoulders and catching the entire table and platter of food. They all disappeared into its infinite depths. He added the chair on a second pass. Then he alighted the cloak back upon his shoulders.
He was still hungover, but he set back out in search of a proper place to host a wake.
