Tweak

InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "I am an all-powerful Q."

rupert "miles" glass (clowning) wrote in bellumlogs,
@ 2010-07-10 13:15:00

Entry tags:

mad hatter, rumplestiltskin

Who: Theo & Miles +1
What: The return of Ra.
Where: Theo's delightful nook & And then to sell a snake in a seedy place!
When: After this.

The hallways were characteristically quiet, save for those who preferred to play their obnoxious love songs to a hearty and throbbing bellow. The bass and endless shrilling of the voices belting out sappy, sickly little lines rattled the thin walls of the less fortunate floors. Miles couldn't help but to feel as if he were a passenger in a gypsy's drum, or a genie inside of a lamp. It was as if he were smashed in between sounds he had to efface out of his--oh, fuck it--he stormed back toward the door he'd passed which he'd thought was surely the culprit, half sprinting. And when he'd arrived there, he kicked the bottom of the wooden door with his steel toed, snake skin boot, as hard as he could manage (which was quite hard.) The sound was as loud as the music and hopefully as surprising and annoying.

He ran like a child who had flung too many matches into the brush of a bullies house, and accidentally set the yard on fire.

The way he'd went down the stairs, so jack-be-nimble and jack-be-swift, could hardly be described as walking or even running. And with how on the final spree of rushing he'd slid down the banister, it could be more accurately referred to as 'flying'.

Ahem.

Straightening himself out was as easy as smoothing down the black t-shirt he wore, which was already unwrinkled, and only smoothed out for personal show. He amused even himself while alone, a habit all people should endeavor to pick up. The tips of his pointed, black, snake skin boots ventured out from 'neath his gray jeans. Yes, Ra did not like jeans, but he liked Miles. All was well. Especially wearing the skin of another species of snake that he so despised! ... Whatever the species may be that comprised his boots, he may never know, but he knew well Ra liked them, as they symbolized the deadness of a fellow snake, and more importantly, so did he.

And to Theo's door he gave a--

Knock-knock-kna-knock-knock.

Knock-knock.

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twodays_slow
2010-07-11 04:53 am UTC (link)

Oh yes, Theo would love to surprise her. He loved surprises himself, and maybe a nice surprise would cheer her up. "A surprise it shall be, if you'll say the number!"

Of course, Theo had to take a moment to admire Miles' car. He'd never seen a hearse driven day to day before, and it required appropriate appreciation. "The snake can sit with me," he volunteered... just in case Ra tried to figure out how to open the box. Attempting to catch him in the car might be a bit of a pain, if they couldn't hold the lid down immediately.

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clowning
2010-07-11 09:11 pm UTC (link)

"Nine-oh-six." Said he, volunteering the number easily. He hardly believed it was any kind of subtle or large mistake to spoon off her location into the bowl of somebody who had a rich, delicious surprise in store. And passed off the box with a graceful gesture akin to a dancers, in addition to a crooked grin which a protractor would not be able to quite get the accurate, zany degree of. Once Theo had taken the box, he'd strolled swankily to his side of the hearse. He as well slid inside (literally, by standing a bit higher on the seat and sliding down.) and unlatched the passenger sides lock to let Theo in, promptly upon his arrival there.

Oh, it was going to be interesting having company besides (The Little Match Girl) and (The Pied Piper). Oh, indeed!

The chitty-chitty bang-bang engine whirled, whistled, and whorled to life with a whisper of caprice and a clattering of keys.

"Don't be alarmed. I don't wear my seatbelt. Seat belts are for nerds and monks."

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twodays_slow
2010-07-11 10:54 pm UTC (link)

Theo slid in and secured Ra on his lap, thinking that the weight of the snake would probably hold him down just as well as any seatbelt possibly could. "I don't want to wear one, either. They can't be quite comfortable." They always fell so strangely across his body... and besides that, Theo didn't like restraints. At all. He'd been in a straitjacket, once or twice, and he hadn't liked that, no, not a bit.

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clowning
2010-07-11 11:20 pm UTC (link)

"Where have you been hiding, unable to be my partner in crime all this time!" He shouted, slapping his steering wheel before putting it reverse, not checking any of his mirrors, backing up slightly onto the curb, and then driving off without making sure anyone was coming. "I've had to put with people who wear seat belts for far too long!" And off they were, with a madman behind the wheel to direct them and someone who was just as mad, if not madder... with a snake in a hat box upon his lap, because he's a hatter. How quaint.

"It's unfortunate we're going to the abandoned lot that was Coney Island, instead of what IS. I can't understand why anyone would let this happen, or even agree for it to. No one appreciates history? Or the seniority a district has? Coney Island was the liberator of so many people who thought they'd live in shadows all their lives--freak shows, I mean. And instead of hiding, they became celebrities. I hear they're trying to have it stopped, locals, it's destruction that is, on account of it all being historical. They better."

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twodays_slow
2010-07-12 02:09 am UTC (link)

"I've been here and there, around and about..." Theo didn't necessarily recognize when a question was more rhetorical than anything else - why would they be asking if they didn't want to know the answer?

The talk about Coney Island was a magnificent distraction, though. "Why would they want to wreck it? It simply seems silly." Not that he'd ever actually been, of course. He just didn't see a reason to wreck something like that, unless they were going to build something even more magnificent in its place.

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clowning
2010-07-12 04:46 am UTC (link)

"There's still much to be discussed with the rest of that development lot--you know, those higher ups--who want to control every anal capable of excreting money for the city. There is still a circus there, don't get me wrong, and some rides. Only it's just so much smaller. For that, a lot of people temporarily have stayed in what's abandoned just to trade things..." If Theo was not looking, he would surely, at the very least, be able to hear the smile that smeared itself across Miles' mouth. "...impressive things. And to discuss where to head to if it all becomes too politically correct."

He'd paused and considered.

"I'm surprised you haven't gravitated toward Coney Island yourself, that is, before all the changes happening. They'd love your hats--" He slammed his hand onto the horn at some fool who'd waved in front of him without thought. How hypocritical of him."--IDIOT! You'll see."

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twodays_slow
2010-07-12 06:42 pm UTC (link)

Theo stared out the window at the sights whizzing by. Likely, if the window had been down, he'd have had his head hanging out like a dog. Most people he'd ridden with in the past were so cautious... Miles was a fun driver, and Theo was positive the ride was going to be thrilling. He shook himself out of his entrancement with the blurring colors to answer. "I've not lived here long, only a little. And the sights I've seen are somewhat small. Clubs, continuously. Not often outside the city!"

And what a pity that was, if it was as much an adventure as Miles implied. He turned a wide grin to his friend. "I anticipate it anxiously."

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clowning
2010-07-13 05:45 am UTC (link)

So most fortunately, Bellum was not far off from where their ventures destination be, and thus the Wonder Wheel doth rear its wiry, coruscating head upon the tops of lower endeavored buildings.

"Life tends to get very comfortable at times, forcing one to not leave much. But I see these antics as miniature crimes, to live a life inside and such." He veered into a parking lot that quite obviously was not meant for cutting through; a man of shortcuts and virtually infinite impatience. The cars were parked crookedly and impolitely. The cars were ruder than a Frenchman at noon without his Cafe Au Lait. And he maneuvered them as artistically as a plastic surgeon does the flaws on a budding stars face. As an investment to save time, and to save his ass. This parking lot, well, by the looks of all the people crowded at far corners of the chain-linked fences, was multi-purpose. Oh, New York.

"One can only hold out on their need to explore for so long."

The rest of where they were headed was now slowly coming into view.

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twodays_slow
2010-07-13 09:49 pm UTC (link)

Oh, that did look exciting. Theo bounced in his seat, as excited as a child by the bright scene unfolding before him. Oh, M was already taking him to the best places... yes, he would have to find excuses to tag along more, for sure. He patted the top of Ra's box soothingly; surely the snake could only have a fabulous time, if he was destined to live here.

He directed a sidelong glance at Miles, daring to inquire, "Can we find the time for rides?" Surely selling the snake (and hopefully hats) wouldn't take them all day. If they didn't have time to see the sights, well, Theo might have to try to make the time.

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clowning
2010-07-14 05:50 am UTC (link)

The hearse wedged itself expertly, and symmetrically betwixt the indifferent, grousing thighs of two old jalopies. It was with a surprisingly skillful maneuver that he'd accomplished this feat, of course in comparison to the recklessness with which Theo would have been acquainted to intimately by now, anything may appear skillful. However, to the markedly observant yet inert, this minor display of cognizance and care, might just prove to be a taste of the talents that Miles stored away, and feigned effectively that he did not have... in other words, he liked to look like a complete idiot, so that when a cunning thing occurred, he'd be overlooked as the culprit. Ah, but enough about him!

"Of course we can. Why do you suppose I chose to sell him to Smellio? His inviting aroma? No. It's because of the food that's going to make me sick to my stomach, and the rides that will help me in ridding my stomach of what's made it sick. So finding the time for rides? On the agenda." He'd agreed, the steering wheel lilting to and fro until everything was aligned. The engine stopped with the extraction of the keys, and he glanced over to the propitious box. "I wonder, what is the origin of thought..." It was a question that had been plaguing him in the morning until his coffee shooed it away. "Hmmph." He'd hmph'd, and opened his door to begin stepping out.

The night was lively and colorful. Coney was popular as a pinata at a child's birthday party; attracting a lot of attention, anticipation, and abuse.

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twodays_slow
2010-07-15 03:20 am UTC (link)

Satisfied with the knowledge that he would get greasy carnival food and a chance to try out the rides, Theo hefted Ra's box and slid out of the car. The scents in the air were nearly overwhelming, and he took a deep breath just to get used to them. Oh yes, the funnel cake, the sausages, and the oily metallic scent from the rides... it had been a long time since he'd been to a fair of any sort. Too long, once he thought about it and realized that there would likely be so many people who wouldn't think him as odd as the rest of the world did.

Because a good friend didn't ignore what a friend said, Theo considered what Miles had said about thought for a moment. "The thoughts I think spring spontaneously from somewhere in my skull. I've never ever been able to track them, they're sneaky." And he had tried, oh yes he had. Especially when his friends had begun talking. He took the time sometimes to contemplate where in his brain they lived, precisely. Of course, according to the doctors who had talked to him about the voices... "They try to tell me it's misfired neurons and crazy chemicals, but I'm not so certain I believe them."

Pleased with his own answer, regardless of whether Miles would be or not, he started off with a spring in his step.

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clowning
2010-07-15 05:56 am UTC (link)

Cotton candy. Candy cotton. Fried dough. Dough fried. Hotdogs. Doghots. Burgers. To say that his senses were overwhelmed as well would be a blasphemous understatement. He hadn't eaten anything substantial all day long, and as a result of this his stomach raged and growled restlessly. Intestinal tract wrestling over any last remnant of fulfillment like a ravenous, wild wolf; he sighed and tensed himself as he listened to Theo's side of the whole brain shenanigans. The brain, such a cheap educational toy, he'd thought, as he as well simultaneously thought that stepping out of the car was a big, bad idea.

Oh well, carry on, my wayward son. To the snake peddler.

He chewed on his friends words, let them linger on his tongue, cleared them from the back of his throat. Yes, society did seem to believe the thoughts came from the general vicinity of the head, indeed. But was all this a reaction to consciousness, or was consciousness a reaction to it? As he lead them down the boardwalk, through the laughing, twirling, happy crowd, he nodded.

"I agree. I believe that consciousness is primary, and matter secondary. I do however, believe that perhaps the thoughts may be projected, as the universe is proven holographic. You know, like a radio station... we listen to the voices, go along with their conversation, but it is physically coming from the radio, while this conversation is originating elsewhere. "

He, so swiftly, moved aside in time to dodge a cartwheeling gypsy. "Weeee!"

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twodays_slow
2010-07-15 06:03 am UTC (link)

That was an interesting thought... Theo shifted the snake box absently, considering that himself. "It's true, I thought that once myself, but they told me and told me it was all in my head."

Theo didn't think he needed to say who 'they' were. In his mind, there was only one 'they' and that was the doctors. He considered it further, and nodded. "Of course, they say some stuff that's totally wrong, so why should I hold this one thing when I know the rest is worthless?" Ah, what a good friend Miles was, freeing him from what they had implanted in his brain, or his thought-radio, or whatever the case may be.

Of course, that was derailed briefly as he eyed the cotton candy as they walked by. Ah, sugar on a stick. He would have to remember where this display was.

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clowning
2010-07-15 06:39 am UTC (link)

Where others might have minded the phrase 'they told me it was all in my head', for Miles, it was merely noted. For a fleeting happenstance, he'd as well uncovered a vague understanding of what it could mean. Throwing light onto a part of him, huddled up in a corner, with hands raised as if an unwilling participant in a frisk or stick up, that had the faculty to feel pissed off that anyone had ever told that to Theo at all. It was an unfortunate symptom of his getting accustomed to having his company, and the beginning of his inclination to grow protective and defensive for those he spent time with regularly.

The narrowing of his eyes on the behalf of whoever 'they' were, was brief. Vanished.

"Never listen to them. They're barely ever even close to being right. Society in general is suffocating. That's why i decided long ago to just... give up on it! Been much happier ever since! The smile rarely ever leaves may face. I took the emergency exit. You know, what they might call insanity."

Unfortunately, the building Smellio was usually in was... it looked occupied. Was there a show going on? A momentary flirtation with confusion caused his face to display a clearly surprised expression. How was he going to sell a cobra with a crowd inside?

"...We uhh, there might be a plan B."

A sculpted man comprised mostly of muscle and tall as a tower was slowly, but surely, coming into view. He was leaning up against a building, quite obviously guarding a doorway with his arms crossed. Why did all guards cross their arms? He'd wondered, as the dusky skinned, bald headed, beady, calculating eyes of the man searched the crowd endlessly. He looked like the bodyguard of a sultan, or perhaps an underground fighter in an alchemists apprentice tournament. The most notable thing about him being his bare chest and glittering harem pants. Quite a contrast to his unapproachable exterior.

However, when he'd spotted Miles in the crowd, he grinned a jack-o-lantern grin.

"That's Bruno, the muscleman." Miles explained.

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twodays_slow
2010-07-17 04:27 am UTC (link)

Theo looked Bruno over carefully, taking every detail into account. Well, that was a fellow he did not care to frolic with, as he was large enough that the usual method of simply being tall wouldn't work. That meant Theo would have to think of something else, and it was too much of an effort to do so at the moment, when he was burdened down with snake.

He blinked over at Miles, then inquired, "Bruno is B?" The plan, he meant, but Miles would know that. "His pants are pleasing." So shiny... Theo loved shiny things.

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clowning
2010-07-17 06:31 am UTC (link)

"Not quite."

If Theo were to still be following alongside Miles in the exact pace and tone, they'd have arrived through the outward and inward flux of the mesmerized and enthusiastic crowd, that ran itself silly with the espresso of unnerving carnival music, to their destination.

"It's just that I had no idea they were having an antique show tonight..." He spoke through gnashed teeth and out the side of his mouth, as if this were a hush-hush, classified operation now. Ahem. And straightened up immediately afterward with grin that could convince the secrets of immortality out of Rasputin.

Bruno looked just as happy. After all, he did enjoy Miles' company. Why? Because Miles knew magic tricks. Bruno loved magic tricks.

"Bruno! My friend! How ya been?" Miles reached out tentatively to accept the firm, toothy handshake.

"Miles! De' magic man! Oh-oh, you de magic man! Ha ha!" Bruno bellowed. "I good!"

And then he got serious. His smile fleeing, as he stared down at Theo.

"Who'suh de friendo? W'as in de box?"

"Oh! The box, yes... and my friend, this Theo, Theo, Bruno. The box has a business proposition for Smellio."

"Ah! Come in, come in!"

The bear claw that was Bruno's hand pulled open the door heedlessly. There were only a few people inside of what appeared to be an antique shop. Smellio, being one of the first people to turn around.

And one of the first things ones nose might detect the presence of. A rotting, sweet and sour smell, like the head of an unbathed infant!

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twodays_slow
2010-07-18 03:12 am UTC (link)

Theo wrinkled his nose at the smell, but a rare moment of pausing for thought decided him against commenting. Normally, he'd not even hesitate before voicing his opinion, but if Miles was attached to the idea of selling the snake in the box to him, it might be best to hold his tongue. He flashed a quick, bright grin at Bruno, nodding politely, and then entered behind Miles. He leaned in to murmur in his friend's ear, "I wondered, but it's worse than what I was expecting."

Oh well. Maybe snakes couldn't smell. He was sure Ra would let them know, if Miles planned to open the box for the man to take a look. Of course, Theo wasn't really fond of the idea of the snake letting them know about his displeasure while Theo was the one holding him. Hm, a dilemma. Perhaps he'd pass him off before that happened.

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clowning
2010-07-18 05:13 am UTC (link)

"Miiiiiiiillllllessss." Smellio oozed, the gray, thick smoke of his cigarette tumbling upward like dragons breath. He billowed around with his elbows bent as elegantly as a dancer, and swatted at his company as if they were flies.

"Smellio," Miles said, gesturing toward Theo and the mystery box. "This is Theo, Theo, Smellio. Take not of the mystery box for me will you? As well the lovely--"

"What wundafoo hats." Smellio ventured. He moved forward once the other few people shuffled off to pretend they were doing something besides eavesdropping. He, enchanted, stared up at the hats with dilated pupils and active eyes, his mouth agape.

"Yes, and hats. And the box, there's a cobra for you..."

Smellio eyed Theo's hat the way a child eyes another child's toy. "Theo, huh? You know Miles from sumwheres?" And then he stared down at the box in horror. "COBRA?!"

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twodays_slow
2010-07-21 03:48 am UTC (link)

Ah, the smelly sir like his hats. Theo tilted his head up proudly, certain he would make a sale after all. If the man liked them upon a glance, how much more would he like them when he knew he could buy them if he pleased?

He was prepared to say something about Chicago and all the wonderful adventures there to explain how he and M knew each other when Smellio reacted quite strangely to news of the snake. "He's a friendly fellow," Theo reassured him. "Barely bites, right?" Oh, he'd heard the warnings from Miles, but Ra had been really pleasant to Theo, at least. Maybe he just didn't think brunettes tasted good? Ah, but in that case, Smellio would be quite safe as well!

Forgetting his reservations about being the one to hold the box when it was opened, Theo thrust it forward. "Want to see?" His smile morphed into a frown when the man leaped back. "At least look!"

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clowning
2010-07-21 04:26 am UTC (link)

"Oh come on!" He'd reassured his stinking, reeling, grimacing associate, his voice dripping with soothing, warm chamomile tea practically, to fill his worried little cup! "You've met Ra, haven't you? He's pleasant to work with and worth quite a lot more than what I'm selling him for. I'll make you a deal. 4,000 instead of ten, you know well he's worth much more!"

Smellio considered the box with a face so crinkled with offense he appeared more like a pug than a man. He'd moistened his lips, puffed the golden end of his fantasia pink cigarette, sighed out the smoke, and crossed his hairy arms. "This is a big responsibility, a cobra!"

"He's a baby! How else would he be able to fit into the box?"

Smellio tap-tap-tap'd his boot, which was pointed and belled like an elf's. "I suppose I could sell her to zoo..."

"Him."

Smellio rolled his eyes at being corrected. "Whatever!"

"By the way, is any show perchance in need of wonderful hats?" He flicked the brim of his. "Theo makes them himself, isn't that right, Theo?"

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twodays_slow
2010-07-23 03:27 pm UTC (link)

"Quite correct! I've many hats, mountains in fact, and I'll make more on order!" Or anyway, indeed, but Theo thought there would be more appeal in knowing he'd do special orders! "Balmorals and beanies, berets and bowlers, capuchons, cloches, fedoras, fezzes, top hats and trilbies, ladies' hats, men's hats, any hats at all." Since he couldn't quite tick them off on his fingers as the named just a few different types of hats, Theo tapped the count off against Ra's box instead. He hoped it didn't disturb the dear snake.

He could have gone on about more and more types of hats, but from the look on Smelly's face he was already overwhelmed by the selection. Well, that was fine. Most people didn't realize how many sorts of hats there were. Theo was glad to educate them, but unlike him most people couldn't remember them if they were presented all at once. Eyes wide, expression solemn, he offered, "I could make a list."

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clowning
2010-07-24 08:44 pm UTC (link)

A pause.

"Yes, yes." Smellio swatted at the air as if a swarm of gnats had mistaken his nose for rotting fruit. But it was, in fact, to wile away the smoke which had accumulated before him. "Make a list and give me. Your snake? I do 4,000. She bite, I look for you!" He waggled his index pointedly at Miles.

"He's a snake. If disgruntled he's of course going to bite! You can't hold me responsible for that."

Smellio sighed; Miles was right. "Fine." He waved over one of his assistants, a midget in a maharajah costume, to take the box from Theo. As well, another midget began rifling through a small, glittery box of money. Counting hundreds between his tiny fingers.

Miles glanced at Theo with a smile. "Snake sold, and hats in the process." He wunk.

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twodays_slow
2010-07-26 07:42 pm UTC (link)

"A particularly productive project," Theo agreed, then extended a hand for Miles to shake. It seemed the way things should be done, after all. "I doubt I'd have done it without you, my dear M." He paid no mind to the others in the room, after that - he was aware of their movements, of course, Theo was usually aware of what went on around him, but until they were giving him money they were of no importance.

When the money was in Miles's hand, he bounced like a child. "Rides, right? And cotton candy?" Oh, the sweet satisfaction of spun sugar.

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