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River Tam is in your post confusing you (notmymemory) wrote in wariscoming,
@ 2012-07-23 23:24:00

Entry tags:

mr. dark, river tam

Who: Mr Dark and River Tam
What: Face to face meeting
When: Night of 23 July 2012
Where: Site of the Shadow Show
Warnings: TBD
Status: Thread/In Progress

The memories were there, poking at her brain, hurting her. People were loud but not as loud as they usually were. She knew it was bad, dangerous. She knew that the loudness of everyone could destroy her. Oh, River knew. She knew too much. Things she shouldn't know and it tore into her. It was a pea. Wasn't that what she had said back in the Academy? There was was a pea stuck in her spine and she couldn't get it out. It would never get out. They could cut away at her, cut into her and laugh but it never would go away. Even with the silent calm that Mara and Luke had... it would never go away. Because it was poking at her. And in the end, she needed Simon. She would always need Simon because he had come for her. Had read the letters and knew and had saved her. And she had tried to save him and now he was gone. Not because of what she did, but because she was meant to be alone. But she was never alone, not really. Luke and Mara, everyone who she couldn't shut out. And the damned memories burning a hole into her brain.

It was hot. Hot and muggy and sticky and it left River anxious. She needed to move and there was only so much she could do while inside. And the walls were buzzing with technology, the hum of false life and created things that did not feel. They were mind numbing. So she left. It wasn't uncommon. River had been known to slip out and wander at random. Mara worried because she always worried but River never disappeared. Not really. She just needed quiet and movement and air. Because there wasn't air in the black. There also wasn't this sticky heat. It was always a controlled temperature on Serenity and River didn't get to go off ship all that often. The further in the black they were, the better but still, she was mostly on ship. But here there was no control. No control of life or death, of pain and loss, no control of temperature. It was just sticky.

The sun had long gone down, the temperature just slightly cooler. She walked and wandered, watched the people happy and in love, the people who thought no one saw them and cried silently. The people who planned and wanted to hurt others and the people who just wanted to enjoy their lives. She watched them all, maneuvering through the streets and trees and through the alleys. She wasn't afraid. There was anger in the world at the loss of Moriarty, confusion amongst the criminals but she wasn't afraid. Not of them but of the dark. The shadows. Yet even as she feared them, they led her to tents and lights and people milling. Secrets were loud and the loss of hopes and dreams were deafening. They were gone and the darkness consumed people. She knew she should get away, leave. She didn't want to talk to him. Didn't want to know. He hurt her head, her heart, her feelings. She knew what he was. He created darkness and thrived on it. But the shadows kept pushing her in. People didn't think it was possible but it was and oh she was getting dizzy trying to find a way out.

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illustratedman
2012-07-25 05:55 am UTC (link)

The night was alive with the hum of silent terrors, private dreams, desires and every other emotion one could contain. Hopes.. aspirations. All of it a tumbling mess that boomed along in a cacophony of noise. It was brilliant, desperate and full of despair so utterly deep as to seep into Dark's wicked bones. It was the stuff of nightmares, and the very things upon which he and his freaks fed upon, and fed well. It swirled about, leaking between tents and into the hearts, minds and very blood of the carnival and its inhabitants. It was a silent feeding though, one quietly obtained as souls struggled through their chaos to find an inner peace that may not ever exist.

But the noise was interrupted by a distinctly odd sound. Dark picked up on the shift in the air and extended his senses to find her. Ahh, the River.. the River born Cassandra of Troy. And come at last!

Dark exited the train on the tracks beside the carnival and placed his hat atop his head, flouncing across the field toward the center of the carnival to find their new guest. As always, Mr. Cresswell fell into step behind Dark, lurking in the shadows. Dark had been most eager to meet the woman, she had the most interesting insights into what Dark's carnival did. It took a minute, but Dark caught up to the girl at last.

"Good evening!" he boomed, dropping down into a waist deep bow of respect and dramatic flair. He flipped his hat off his head and thrust his arms out to the side. "Welcome to Cooger and Dark's Pandemonium Shadow Show!" he stood his full height, replaced his hat atop his head and hefted his cane. "Unfortunately, we don't open for another week, my dear. You're trespassing."

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notmymemory
2012-07-25 06:25 am UTC (link)

It was alive. The carnival and darkness. Pushing and pulling the teen, spinning her around and making her oh so very dizzy. She knew the dance, she knew the steps. She always knew the step. They came as naturally as breathing but this dance she didn't know. The darkness leading her, shadows taking her hand and pulling her into the terrible world. It was so much louder here. The terror no one spoke, the dreams they couldn't confess. He fed on them and they pushed down on her and tore into her mind, scratching scratching scratching.

She wanted to run. The terror was suffocating, it felt like it was seeping into her skin and she couldn't sense one way or the other. She was being followed.

She needed to get out. Needed to run. But he was there and a follower. Lurking. Waiting. Pushing and spinning until he made his entrance.

"Unnecessary greeting. Doesn't open for a week yet speak like it is open...."

Scratching at her neck, River looked around. Where was Simon. Simon wasn't there. Because she'd been experimented on here. And the Seal had taken him after they'd been rescued. And left her a shattered girl. Shattered more than she had been before. No more pills. No more medicines. They never did any good in the end, anyway. The memories still kept her awake and made her scream in her mind when she couldn't scream out loud.

"Got lost. The shadows grabbed my hand."

Because who was River if she didn't speak in disjointed thought processes and riddles that no one understood. But he would understand. Because he thrived on the very things that pushed and pulled her, controlled her and mutilated her.

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illustratedman
2012-07-25 07:14 am UTC (link)

"I do try and make all the guests feel welcome. I'd hate for you not to come back on opening day, after all." His voice was light, filled with a happy tune, one that juxtaposed the darkness of his soul. He had long since given his loyalty to the Devil, whoever that was, in return for the carnival. One day Lucifer would collect what was rightfully his, but for now Dark served a better purpose than an eternity in hell. He smiled faintly, approached River and examined her youthful visage, feeding off the chaos in her mind. It made him stronger, more alive and more powerful.

It was a sweet feeding, full of terrible things. So utterly delicious! A feast!

"Would you like to see a trick, Miss River?" he asked daintily, thrusting out the hand that held the cane at an angle she could see, undoing his cufflinks to pull his sleeve up to his forearm, revealing the painted faces of creatures and people printed onto his skin. It was permanent ink, the markings that made him the Illustrated Man. Each face told a story, illustrating the destruction of minds and his power over them.

Focusing on the faces at hand, the ink swirled and flowed about like the many faces of a kaleidoscope. He carried on for a minute, then promptly jerked down his sleeve and re-clasped the link.

"I can smell your despair," he said a second later, "it calls to us like dogs in the night."

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notmymemory
2012-07-25 04:40 pm UTC (link)

"Didn't want to come, its bad here. Not in the Latin." Where was the captain? Or Zoe? Sweet Kaylee who saw the good in everything and was her friend despite the path of destruction that followed her and waited. He wanted Reavers. They weren't here, but the chaos of their minds would fit in even as they destroyed everything in their path.

No one was laying down. Why wouldn't they lay down?!

The darkness fueled her madness, the memories she shouldn't have, the unfair memories that stole into her mind and heart with no way to have relief. She had known it was bad here. Had warned Peeta to stay away and then she went and got lost and wound up here and it her.

He showed her his arm, the spinning ink and souls in his skin, all screaming in anguish. They made her stumble back, hands over her ears.

"Make them stop! They're screaming!"

She didn't have a defense. She couldn't find the string Luke had given her to calm her. All she found was a solid body behind her. The lurker. Her eyes flashed, the weapon buried within the recesses of her mind, locked away, waiting for the mission. Dr Mathais had given her a mission and it scratched at her. Waiting. Stumbling forward again, the dancer looked around at the shadows. They were coming for her. The shadows to claim their mistress. She wouldn't be their doll. She couldn't be.

"Smell the despair and wrap your hollow heart around it to pump blood through your veins, black sticky blood to pull you down to hell when your master wants. A dog let loose to terrorize and make the devil laugh!"

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illustratedman
2012-07-26 09:01 pm UTC (link)

Dark watched the girl with utter fascination, a short soft laugh escaping his throat at her flailing and upset by the voices in her mind. His laugh hinted at no true amusement, no mirth.. for a man such as Dark did not feel those things, did not care to really. Dark raised his eyes to Mr. Cresswell's face, and gestured vaguely while using a bit of Will to impart his meaning.

"Come, Miss River, I have a thing to show you! Cooger and Dark's show is most welcoming. Would you like a welcoming tour of our grounds? We don't open for a week," he gestured with a flair and produced two admit one tickets, extending them to the terrified girl. "but I gaurantee you two tickets for any ride you so desire when we do open. You will come, won't you?" He wasn't sure he wanted her there, if she couldn't contain herself she'd bother the other guests. Or maybe they'd think she was part of the show?

Dark considered for a moment, and then turned on his heel, allowing Mr. Cresswell to try to shepherd the girl deeper into the carnival, toward the big tent at the carnival center. The girl was a curious thing, Dark thought as he flounced on ahead, she was troubled and mysterious, with the capability of reading the very things that Dark was made of. Some men and women came to understand Dark and his carnival, and thus actively resisted. It was fine, really.. but very few understood and felt despair of such monumental proportions as this girl. Maybe it was only that she picked up on the anguish... oh, maybe she too fed--in ways--on the anguish of people /around/ them. How funny!

"Come, do you like rides? We have many! There's a carousel," he turned to look at River, "it rides forward" he thrust up one hand palm forward, "and backward!" and thrust up the other, palm forward. "Or the maze, do you enjoy mirrors?"

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notmymemory
2012-07-26 09:26 pm UTC (link)

The hollow laugh was loud. So very loud and it beat in her brain, sticking needles in her and pulling. She felt torn apart by the shadows. He and the Devil would dine on the blood of the innocent and still beating hearts of their victims. The images flashed in her mind, taunting. Chains and blood and torture and pain. The toys, broken dolls, marionettes controlled by their strings. So many wanted to avoid Hell but Dark would go there and enjoy it. It was obvious.

The tickets were handed to her and she hesitantly took them, the ink and paper seeming to sear into her skin, marking her. The darkness was imbedded in the paper, spinning. But they were in her hand and she didn't know how or why or what to do. He had offered her two tickets on the boards because he found her intriguing and so it seemed that was still the case. Only this time, Peeta wasn't there to fight him off. Oh, River could defend herself. When her mind wasn't in chaos, but presently she was overwhelmed by the pain and darkness and she was being moved towards the tent despite her desire to get out. She couldn't see, it was as though the shadows of this place were thickening, blocking the exit so the only way she could go was forward.

It wasn't funny. They made her like this. Picking and poking at her brain. The memories weren't here. She didn't want the mission but it was there, burning in the back, waiting. She just wanted silence and not the darkness. The suffocating darkness. She saw the truth in things, she had even before the experiments. They stripped her of the barrier though and now she was open to it all despite medicines and pills and the Force. She needed the calm of Luke and Mara and she couldn't find it. Not in the ever growing darkness..

"Forward and back, time stops. Ticks forward, leading to death. Backwards is birth but at what cost. Lost..... the mirror distorts and shows the truth. Look inside where no one wants to look... No one can. Too open and raw...."

There were truths and tricks of the two attractions she was told of. Carousels... she had never been on one but the fake horses scared her. They looked wrong. And mirrors showed what no one wished to see but still they could not escape them.

"Said you show people their desires. But you feed on the darkness of the price."

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illustratedman
2012-07-26 09:39 pm UTC (link)

Oh, she did understand.. her Riddles made perfect sense to Dark, whose intimate knowledge of the carnival keyed in the missing pieces of her words. She understood well.. it amused Dark in the ugliest ways.

"Backward! It makes you younger, and forward! Older. No death, no birth. Just.. timelessness. No age!" He was a true immortal, by the hands of Lucifer himself, and only the happiest of things could destroy him. But very few people were happy enough with themselves to kill the beings like Dark.

"What you see in the mirror.. is truth," he said, "it's desire. I do give people their pathetic desires, my dear. We feed on them! Your torments call to us like dogs, in the night. We stuff ourselves on those torments, use them to butter our plain bread with delicious pain." He laughed again. "Funerals.. marriages, lost lovers, and lonely beds.. that's our diet. We find it sweet.

"We can smell the young, dying to be men a thousand miles off! And hear the fools like yourself groaning with midnight despairs from halfway around the world. And so they come here, the Autumn People! I give them what they desire, for a price."

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notmymemory
2012-07-26 09:57 pm UTC (link)

Very few people understood River's speaking patterns. At least, not when she was in this state. When she was more lucid, sure. But when she was worked up, or overwhelmed, her sentences became more fractured, more disorientated and so she just spoke in riddle because she followed whatever random train of thought that came up at the moment. Though the fact that she was speaking of Dark's attractions, it only made sense he'd figure it out anyway.

She didn't like the idea of time traveling backwards. It was wrong. Shouldn't exist. It was spun and the clockwork machinery creaked and groaned at the strain, taking the years away to fuel it. No death. No birth.

"Stuck in limbo. Purgatory. Hell and heaven don't exist. Rip out the pages of the symbol and they become paper. Take the soul and you become plastic."

Well, it made sense to River but that didn't really mean much if people couldn't figure out what it was they were supposed to know and understand. She knew she was broken. That there should be a bullet put to her and it would save everyone but no one agreed and so she was stuck with the memories that were not her own, stuck feeling what everyone felt. They were opposite and alike, she and Dark and that was more terrifying than anything. That he felt and heard it all but lived off of it and knew she could see it as well.

"Always a price, nothing is ever free. Say it is but not real. Give them what they want by hollowing them out. We are the hollow men, we are the stuffed men...." He embodied the poem from Earth that Was, the text burned in her memory from her lessons. She always had liked poetry. Excelled in it as she did in every subject she had taken. Age had never mattered. "The shadow which falls between the idea and reality. That is your price."

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