S-Someone told me ‘remember remember the fifth of november’.
D-Did I forget a holiday coming up …? Oh dear.
V spoke from the shadows.
“Remember remember the 5th of November,
The gunpowder treason and plot.
I know of no reason why the gunpowder treason
Should ever be forgot.”
V stepped out into the light. “Good evening, Miss Fluttershy. What brings you out on a fine evening such as this?”
I have been away on… important business, but I have returned, and I am interested to see what I have missed.
Was he serious? No freak out? No nothing? Scott followed where the figure had looked. Taking it all in calmly, well there was no problem with that he supposed. Though it felt that this person, didn’t entirely understand the sort of part. Scott didn’t follow it much either. He fell asleep and woke up here. The most confusing thing to date really… “Arcadios…” The name felt like acid burning. He wanted it to be Canada.
”Scott.” Scott answered him, looking around. “Scott Pilgrim…. And what about you.” It was creepy talking to someone behind a mask. Scott didn’t even know the gender of the masked thing… Could be… an Antispiral. That was a bad encounter…
[V retracted his hand and bowed his head.]
It’s a pleasure to meet you Scott Pilgrim, you may call me V.
[V replaced his hat on his head, and stood silently again for a moment. He don’t like not understanding things, especially when he was in the middle of them. But at this point, it hurt his pride to do so, he felt that he had no other choice but to ask.]
Tell me Scott, Arcadios is a place I have never once heard of in my entire life. Not in books, or news, not even in films when we still had them. You said that I was dead in a way, and for a man such as myself, this is all quite disturbing. Would you care to explain what’s going on? If you don’t mind my asking, that is.
[V tilted his head inquisitively at Scott, his mask giving it’s everlasting smile.]
So, that meant he was new right? This masked… thing was Sophia’s recent recruit. He remembered when he first arrived here, no smoke and mirrors it was all laid out i font of her. “I don’t know how to break this to you…” Scott re-slug his bass onto his back and walked up to the man. How was this going to turn out? Was the… thing going to kill him? Or possibly throw a giant hissy fit and rampage through Arcadios. Regardless he did interrupt Scott, so maybe he did kinda deserve somewhat of a blunt reply…
“Welcome to Arcadios… You’re dead… Kinda…” Scott looked at the person with the straightest face he could pull off with saying that. “That’s.. about it…”
[V stood there, silent for a moment. You’re dead…kinda. The words echoed in his head. How could he be partially dead, yet feel as completely fit and able as he did the night before? His mission had been a complete success; silent, and no disturbances. He had not been injured or given any sort of injection, and not a soul in the world knew of the Shadow Gallery’s location other than him. No would have been able to kill him in his sleep.]
Arcadios…
[V spoke the words slowly, and turned to look out over the land in which he had be dropped. Despite the wind, it was a very lovely night, and the landscape was breathtaking, he had to admit. The enormous hill, the oases with their cascading falls, the buildings below and above them. V took in the sights a moment before turning his attention back to the man.]
Please forgive me, I have been most rude.
[He removed his hat and held out his hand politely.]
With whom, may I ask, do I have the pleasure of speaking?
Scott plucked the strings, listening to the voice that had pierced through the musical engulfed air around him. “Yeah. Music is much better live.” That what Neil would say… Scott sighed, stopping his bass playing. He looked up and opened his eyes only to be welcomed by a tall figure, almost like a silhouette, like when he first met Celty in the middle of the road. “Yeah…” He repeated. What the hell? How long has he been there? “Did he follow me? I didn’t see anyone around… at least not that I noticed.” Scott scratched his head. The man or woman… or whatever was standing over him. He stood up so he felt less intimidated. It didn’t work much.
He remembered all of the live “secret shows” as Kim would call them that he and the band would play. Everyone bringing him happiness even though it wasn’t a big event. “Live music, is nice.” He said staring up at the masked figure.
“How… how long have you been here?” Scott bluntly said. It was weird to open your eyes to a darkened figure at night. He could have been killed. That idea sent a chill down Scott’s spine, he shook it off. “I mean… If you opened your eyes to someone in a mask… You get the idea.” He hoped he had at least.
What or who was this thing? Not that it was a problem but it bothered Scott that he, she, it was standing there, for god knows how long. It could have been there the whole time. It made him uneasy. Maybe it just liked live music that much to listen to him? It was weird though. He couldn’t lie to himself.
[V laughed slightly; the man’s reaction to his sudden appearance was completely understandable. He allowed his eyes to examine the man in front of him while he spoke, the mask hiding him.]
Completely understandable. I would be just as unsettled as you. I have only been here for a few moments.
[V stood in silence for a moment and reflected on how true his word were. He had only been in this place, wherever he was, for minutes. Conscious minutes, that was. Perhaps the man sitting before him would be able to explain what was happening. V decided to be honest and tell things as they were. He knew that he would be fine if things went south for some reason.]
I must admit to you, I followed you out here. You see, when I went to sleep this past evening, I was in my own bed, and when I awoke…
[He held out his hands.]
I was not.
It seems to me, Luke, that there is much more going on inside your head than you let on. You speak of your fate being taken from you not once, but twice. I find this quite intriguing. A boy of your age has had only a short tenure on this planet, and it amazes me that you say you have died and had what you believed your rightful path destroyed. Please, go on, if you will.
Luke didn’t mind telling people about his unusual predicament. Telling people only meant that he didn’t have to worry about it anymore. Luke listened to the cool tone of the man’s voice. He seemed to be quite a knowledgable person. So, Luke began to tell his story from the beginning. He explained to the man about his joining of the Hitler Youth group in his town, and continued to where he was stationed during the war. Luke provided every detail he could think of, including the British soldier that taught him his broken English.
Then he moved on to the last few days before the camp was liberated. He explained how the prisoners were getting roudy, and one even attempted to escape. It was just Luke’s luck that gave him the horrible opportunity to take a life, and he did. While the soldiers gave him a hero’s praise, he felt like he was dying inside already. He paused before explaining the first time he died, then went on to the second. He told the man how he had lied to the person closest to his heart, and how dead it made him feel.
By the time he had finished speaking, Luke’s skin was paler than it had ever been. He felt a slight pain in his chest that was always present whenever he spoke about these things. It wasn’t exactly a feeling he wanted to remember, but it followed him everywhere. He pulled his hat off again and rustled his hair.
[V listened intently to the young man’s story. It was one full of tragedy, yet was highly intriguing. It was now, yet the self proclaimed seventeen year old boy was from the 1940s. He had died twice, and been brought to this time. Stolen from everything he knew, everyone that he loved. The emotions that hung in Luke’s voice hit home with V. He empathized with the boy; how could he not. He knew too well how it felt to have everything you knew taken away from you in an instant, and how it could change you, how it had changed him. V continued to walk in silence for a moment before finally speaking.]
That is quite the tale, Luke. It speaks to a man who has seen much in his life, yet here you are, a boy of seventeen. You are truly a man in a boy’s body.
![[V removed his hat and held out his hand politely.]
Hello. And whom, may I ask, do I have the pleasure of making acquaintances with?](http://24.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lpb47zyacg1qmkmrro1_1280.jpg)
[V removed his hat and held out his hand politely.]
Hello. And whom, may I ask, do I have the pleasure of making acquaintances with?
Scott sat on his bed, his elbows resting on his thigh, hands propping up his head like a pedestal. In denial, Scott stared out of the window. The emptiness of the night. Even Canada have some night life. Midnight shows, battle of the bands, and parties you could meet girls who just so happen to be in your dreams. To think about it that way, it was a little odd. However he wasn’t in denial of anything important. Just the denial of being bored. Boredom killed the best of him it seemed. “The best…” He uttered. The night sky showed nothing of the “best”, let alone anything.
Scott stood up and walked over to his window, brushing away the curtain he pressed his face against the window. Bleak. That’s what the night seemed to have to give him. The boredom by the look of it, would unfortunately be unsatisfied. He thought of asking the goddess for any type of gaming console, or even a computer with working internet. Was that to much to ask of her? Scott peered down. To meet his wide eyes of discomfort within his boredom, was the one and only… His bass. He mashed up and mangled bass, that managed to stay with him through thick and thin. It seemed to be the one thing he helt dear in Sophia’s eyes. Why his bass? Why not Ramona? Scott sighed, lifting his heavy gaze back upon the night sky out of the window. His hand sliding down the window to clutch the neck of his bass, its four strings gave him some sort of yearning. Perhaps it was the yearn for home, the yearn to see everyone at home?
Perhaps, maybe it was the yearn to move on, for the time being. Move onto this world of Arcadios, the world that he was forced to call his home. His other hand tensed, clutching to make a fist as he hit his head against the glass. What was this feeling. Scott was seeking something, something to warm his cold and almost distant body. Distant… distance was what he felt from his friends. None of them were here however, so how was he even able to attempt to fix this mess his mind and body were in. His hand gripped the neck of the bass tighter. It seemed it was all he had left, a reminder…
Without thinking or even the slightest idea of what was to happen, he picked up his bass and slung it onto his back, turning to face the door. He walked to the door and opened it, peering his head out to see if anyone was coming. stepping out he locked his door and set off down the hallway. He knew nothing was outside, he didn’t care. He had hoped that wasn’t true. Boredom had caused this entire problem for him. He had no choice but to fix this yearning.
Scott pushed the double doors open embracing the chill of the distant morning’s wind. His bass had hit the door on the way out. He panicked quickly taking it off, kneeling down as he propped his bass against his knee and examined it. Only the duct tape was slightly torn, pressing his hand against it in hopes it would stick back. Nonetheless, it seemed unscathed besides the past events his bass had gone though. He re-slung it and stood back up.
“Why did I even come out here. There was no reason for this.” Scott looked down at his hands, the open palms made fists. He didn’t understand it, he didn’t understand anything that was going on. He needed help, he needed a friend… “Dammit Wallace, where are you! Ramona…” His left hand clenched tighter, his gaze raised towards the sky. “Where… are you?” There was no use. They couldn’t help him now, as far as he knew, he was on his own. As his hues stared into the sky, clouds were passing. He could make out a sheep, a sheep in the smallest cloud in the bunch. It only made him think more. Back to times of grade school. He could draw an awesome sheep. Kim thought it sucked, but he knew it was amazing. “Kim…” Scott sighed, beginning to walk down the hill that helt his living space high above everything else. “Steven Stills…Young Neil…”
Where was he going? There was no place for him to go. Nothing, nothing awaited him at this hour. Only a warm bed. The bed caused all this, if only he had drowned himself in endless sheep counting, maybe then this could have never existed. It seemed the memory was already there. A memory Scott has yet to obtain… He regretted it already. It wasn’t him calling the shots he felt. He had no power. Scott ran over a small hill at the bottom of the almost endless hill that kept the houses high. He pulled his bass around and sat down.
This bass, it seemed to be his only comfort. The comfort of Canada at Arcadios. Scott and only Scott was here. There were no friends of his… not even Canadians in general. He began to tune the bass, quietly whispering the notes to himself as a reminder. This bass, seemed to be the only thing keeping him in ties with Canada. He laid his head back, left hand slid up the neck of his bass as the right took position on the strings at the base. He closed his eyes, his left hand pressed against the D and G strings as his index and middle finger plucked the strings. Music fluttered his surroundings, he felt like himself. It calmed him. His left hand consistently switching notes and positions, right hand plucking the bass like there was no tomorrow…Was there?
Scott’s notes shattered the piercing wind, the air had become a musical entryway into his heart and mind. The gateway to what Scott was, of what Scott is. Scott felt like he could open up to anyone here. Finally, maybe he could really move on in Arcadios. He continued to let his mind wander the music tuned air. Playing the bass so powerfully, without even realizing it. His mind had filled with music charts, eighth notes and chords there was no stopping him in his own element. The first time here, Scott felt himself. This bass, continued to force notes into the air. A steam of never ending notes it felt to Scott. He didn’t want this feeling to end. Could this be what he was looking for?
This bass…
“My bass…”
[V calmly drifted into consciousness, his eyes remaining closed and his body still. He had had no dream that he could recall, and so his mind rested on the present. After a few moments of lying in the bed, his stirred his body from its position, bringing his hands to his face, and then rubbing them back across his skull. He brought them down to the bed, and he pushed himself up into a sitting position. It was then that he opened his eyes and was brought to a fully aware mental state. He was not in his room.
He looked beside him, and his affects were there: his gloves, his cape, his boots, and hanging from a hat rack was his mask and his hat. His wig sat on a wig stand on a dresser. His belt of knives, however, was not among his belongings. He looked around at the stone room, and at the bed he was lying in. Everything seemed to nice for him to be a prisoner, but he knew he must have been brought here by someone in his sleep last night. He knew for certain that he had been in the Shadow Gallery only hours ago. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and pushed himself up, and slowly walked across the hard stone floor towards the chair on which his clothes sat. He stepped into his boots, then quickly pulled his gloves on. He threw the cape across his shoulders and tied a knot he had tied hundreds of times as he walked to the dresser. He looked into the mirror as he placed the wig on his head. He reached over and grabbed the mask, slipping it over his head. He turned to walk out the door, grabbing his hat as he did so, and placed it on his head as he stepped out of the room into a rather large hall. There were columns supporting the high ceiling. He noted the elaborate corinthian architecture, and concluded that he was in some sort of Greek style building, given the columns and marble floors. He walked across the floors, he boots clicking on the stone with each step.
Where am I?
V stood in the middle of the dark room. It was only slightly lit from moonlight that came through small rectangular windows near the top of the walls. He examined the room around him, hoping that he could figure out where he was and for someone to show up so he could find out what was going on.
After a few moments, he heard the sound of a door opening not too far away from him. He watched as a young man walked out, a bass slung across his back, and started down the hall away from him. V decided to follow him. Hopefully he will be able to tell me what’s going on here.
He followed him, keeping a good distance, walking in a way to silence his footsteps. After a few moments, they were outside. V was able to see that they were at the top of a very large hill, with what appeared to be a town far below. Looking around him, he could see his assumption of the Greek house was correct, with two more identical ones to his left. When he returned his attention to the man, he saw him running down the hill, and after a moment, he stopped at a small crest protruding from the seemingly endless hill.
V began to walk towards him, the wind picking up. V couldn’t feel the chill it produced, but it was rather strong. As he approached the young man, he could hear him playing his bass. He approached the man, seeing his eyes closed as he played. V allowed him to play for a while longer before finally speaking.]
Ah, how lovely it is to hear live music again.
[V removed his hat and held his hand out politely.]
Good evening. And whom, may I ask, do I have the pleasure of making acquaintances with?
[V nodded his head slightly, and then began to continue to walk down the path. They walked silently for sometime before V finally spoke again.]
So tell me about yourself, Luke. What is your purpose?
Luke was taking in the sights of the night when the mysterious man spoke. “I haff no purpose right now. I vas torn avay ffrom my life vehn I died ze ffirst time, ahnt had my fate stolen ffrom me a second time. Nothing unusual besides zaht.” Luke kept his sight on the path before them.
It seems to me, Luke, that there is much more going on inside your head than you let on. You speak of your fate being taken from you not once, but twice. I find this quite intriguing. A boy of your age has had only a short tenure on this planet, and it amazes me that you say you have died and had what you believed your rightful path destroyed. Please, go on, if you will.
