Ode to a Willow (CA - Willowman)
Quote from Indy on August 10, 2020, 11:41 pmWillowman became a creature again. The contents of his meager belongings were searched, and any objects that might serve as a weapon removed. His interaction with the staff was not similarly removed, but limited in the event their presence had been too much stimulation for his days in captivity. He was watched nonetheless, if not in curt glances, then surely in the cameras that must be in the room. He didn't see Amelia for many days. Willowman was relieved. It was easy to be the creature. As long as he was the creature, it meant he wasn't his - and he wasn't hers.
The days were quiet. He skimmed the books given to him and ate the meals in agonizingly slow silence. Sometimes one of the other staff members came in and asked him questions, but following the incident he became voiceless once more.
Good. A creature didn't speak. Men did.
On the third day, boredom had become a restless, itchy thing. He started hearing the mountain again on this day, but her words were faint and indistinct. He only felt disappointment from her, that he had failed - just as he had failed to kill the hunter. It was because he was weak, even as a creature.
On the fourth day, he remembered the woman. He'd never seen her, not in the daylight hours, but her honeyed voice and soft mannerisms had painted a picture well enough. He'd wanted to save her... but she'd been one of them, hadn't she? And he'd failed anyways. And now he didn't know if she lived or died under the mountain's breath - and she would not tell him, no matter how much he pleaded.
At the end of this day he fell to woeful silence. But when the next staff member came to ask him questions, he asked for Amelia. It was the first words he had spoken.
Willowman became a creature again. The contents of his meager belongings were searched, and any objects that might serve as a weapon removed. His interaction with the staff was not similarly removed, but limited in the event their presence had been too much stimulation for his days in captivity. He was watched nonetheless, if not in curt glances, then surely in the cameras that must be in the room. He didn't see Amelia for many days. Willowman was relieved. It was easy to be the creature. As long as he was the creature, it meant he wasn't his - and he wasn't hers.
The days were quiet. He skimmed the books given to him and ate the meals in agonizingly slow silence. Sometimes one of the other staff members came in and asked him questions, but following the incident he became voiceless once more.
Good. A creature didn't speak. Men did.
On the third day, boredom had become a restless, itchy thing. He started hearing the mountain again on this day, but her words were faint and indistinct. He only felt disappointment from her, that he had failed - just as he had failed to kill the hunter. It was because he was weak, even as a creature.
On the fourth day, he remembered the woman. He'd never seen her, not in the daylight hours, but her honeyed voice and soft mannerisms had painted a picture well enough. He'd wanted to save her... but she'd been one of them, hadn't she? And he'd failed anyways. And now he didn't know if she lived or died under the mountain's breath - and she would not tell him, no matter how much he pleaded.
At the end of this day he fell to woeful silence. But when the next staff member came to ask him questions, he asked for Amelia. It was the first words he had spoken.
Quote from Adriana on August 11, 2020, 9:18 amThe nurse humored the request and sought out Amelia, returning shortly thereafter. Before she entered, the previous male nurse entered and double checked to make sure there was nothing that could readily be used as a weapon. He exited, and Amelia entered the room shortly after, closing the door behind her. The male nurse remained directly on the other side.
Amelia wasn't afraid of the man, but afraid for him. Although it wasn't always the case, it was always the hope that someone in rehabilitation would be able to enter the world again someday.
Progress however, wasn't linear, and she was determined it was only a small backstep, that they had done too much too quickly and he needed things taken at a slower pace.
The woman looked on with her hands resting easily at her sides, no malice in her expression. She waited for Willowman to speak.
The nurse humored the request and sought out Amelia, returning shortly thereafter. Before she entered, the previous male nurse entered and double checked to make sure there was nothing that could readily be used as a weapon. He exited, and Amelia entered the room shortly after, closing the door behind her. The male nurse remained directly on the other side.
Amelia wasn't afraid of the man, but afraid for him. Although it wasn't always the case, it was always the hope that someone in rehabilitation would be able to enter the world again someday.
Progress however, wasn't linear, and she was determined it was only a small backstep, that they had done too much too quickly and he needed things taken at a slower pace.
The woman looked on with her hands resting easily at her sides, no malice in her expression. She waited for Willowman to speak.
Quote from Indy on August 11, 2020, 8:08 pmWillowman was sitting on top of the sheets, a stack of meticulously organized novels to the table beside him seperated into two piles. His legs tangled criss-cross and his forefingers and thumb pressed into the other. His breathing was slow, and even. For a brief moment before Amelia's presence had been noted, he remained as if in meditation. In the next he observed her, and though he did not appear agitated, the manner that his eyes avoided hers spoke to an apprehension.
His fingers peeled apart. The man considered the length of new bandages along their length, glancing almost shyly away, before he gestured to a chair nearest to the door. There was a novel on the chair, one that had been eagerly dog-eared in places. The title was familiar, the very first that Amelia had provided to him.
"I'm sorry," he murmured quietly, but the words held the air as easily as a shout.
He still wouldn't meet the Amelia's eyes, turning just to the side of hers. He exhaled, slowly.
"The woman," he started hesitantly, "The one that was left down in... that place. The one the tired man left behind. Do you know what happened to her?"
Willowman was sitting on top of the sheets, a stack of meticulously organized novels to the table beside him seperated into two piles. His legs tangled criss-cross and his forefingers and thumb pressed into the other. His breathing was slow, and even. For a brief moment before Amelia's presence had been noted, he remained as if in meditation. In the next he observed her, and though he did not appear agitated, the manner that his eyes avoided hers spoke to an apprehension.
His fingers peeled apart. The man considered the length of new bandages along their length, glancing almost shyly away, before he gestured to a chair nearest to the door. There was a novel on the chair, one that had been eagerly dog-eared in places. The title was familiar, the very first that Amelia had provided to him.
"I'm sorry," he murmured quietly, but the words held the air as easily as a shout.
He still wouldn't meet the Amelia's eyes, turning just to the side of hers. He exhaled, slowly.
"The woman," he started hesitantly, "The one that was left down in... that place. The one the tired man left behind. Do you know what happened to her?"
Quote from Adriana on August 11, 2020, 9:10 pmAmelia took a seat after picking up the book and glancing it over briefly. She sat down and placed it in her lap with her hands folded neatly over it.
”I forgive you,” she responded, somewhat surprised by the gesture. She listened to his inquiry, which was well worded and clearly something that had been on his mind.
”I’m really sorry,” she began, “He didn’t mention anyone else.”
Amelia took a seat after picking up the book and glancing it over briefly. She sat down and placed it in her lap with her hands folded neatly over it.
”I forgive you,” she responded, somewhat surprised by the gesture. She listened to his inquiry, which was well worded and clearly something that had been on his mind.
”I’m really sorry,” she began, “He didn’t mention anyone else.”
Quote from Indy on August 12, 2020, 8:10 amWillowman still wouldn't look Amelia in the eyes, even at her forgiveness. Instead, he shuffled his gaze downwards, starring fixedly along his spindly digits. He gave a small tilt in acknowledgement to her answer - anticipated, perhaps, but not desired.
"I hope she's dead," he whispered suddenly, "Not because... I want her to be. But because.."
He trailed off as he spoke, and in a quick breath managed the shortest of glances in Amelia's direction. The expression was almost bewildered, as if he was more surprised than Amelia to have done it. In his eyes was a man long-lost, but something else - not quite man, and not quite creature - leaked through.
He brought his eyes down again in a hard breath.
Willowman still wouldn't look Amelia in the eyes, even at her forgiveness. Instead, he shuffled his gaze downwards, starring fixedly along his spindly digits. He gave a small tilt in acknowledgement to her answer - anticipated, perhaps, but not desired.
"I hope she's dead," he whispered suddenly, "Not because... I want her to be. But because.."
He trailed off as he spoke, and in a quick breath managed the shortest of glances in Amelia's direction. The expression was almost bewildered, as if he was more surprised than Amelia to have done it. In his eyes was a man long-lost, but something else - not quite man, and not quite creature - leaked through.
He brought his eyes down again in a hard breath.
Quote from Adriana on August 12, 2020, 5:17 pmAmelia listened. There was understanding and empathy in her eyes when Willowman met hers. The words he spoke seemed cold and malicious, but truly they came from a place of hurt and fear, and also-something very human-concern for the well being of someone else.
Amelia's shoulders drooped a little and she leaned forward,
"It's alright. I understand."
She said softly, brows knit.
"Do you know her name?"
Amelia listened. There was understanding and empathy in her eyes when Willowman met hers. The words he spoke seemed cold and malicious, but truly they came from a place of hurt and fear, and also-something very human-concern for the well being of someone else.
Amelia's shoulders drooped a little and she leaned forward,
"It's alright. I understand."
She said softly, brows knit.
"Do you know her name?"
Quote from Indy on August 13, 2020, 1:50 pmWillowman lay in a slump, at the moment giving the perfect impression of his epithet - a willow tree bowed by the weight of the wind and the world. He ran one finger through the wild mass of his hair as he breathed deeply, ignoring how the locks tangled or snagged, until he arrived out the other side at the base of his skull. He wouldn't glance to Amelia again. But he did shrug, the motion of his shoulders made more dramatic by his spindly frame and baggy clothing.
"She didn't tell me," he said after a moment further.
He hesitated, "But I think the tired man... he called her Tiffany?"
He shook his head, "That can't be a real name. No one would name their child that. Maybe...maybe I just imagined her".
Willowman lay in a slump, at the moment giving the perfect impression of his epithet - a willow tree bowed by the weight of the wind and the world. He ran one finger through the wild mass of his hair as he breathed deeply, ignoring how the locks tangled or snagged, until he arrived out the other side at the base of his skull. He wouldn't glance to Amelia again. But he did shrug, the motion of his shoulders made more dramatic by his spindly frame and baggy clothing.
"She didn't tell me," he said after a moment further.
He hesitated, "But I think the tired man... he called her Tiffany?"
He shook his head, "That can't be a real name. No one would name their child that. Maybe...maybe I just imagined her".
Quote from Adriana on August 14, 2020, 2:45 pm"It's a real name," Amelia assured him. "If the Tired Man knew about her, to, I don't think you did imagine her, but that's probably not what you like to hear."
She crossed her legs and studied Willowman. His speech had improved and he was acting in a way more predictable of a man; combing a hand through his hair, shrugging, questioning his thought processes instead of accepting them at face value. It looked like progress.
"How are you feeling?"
"It's a real name," Amelia assured him. "If the Tired Man knew about her, to, I don't think you did imagine her, but that's probably not what you like to hear."
She crossed her legs and studied Willowman. His speech had improved and he was acting in a way more predictable of a man; combing a hand through his hair, shrugging, questioning his thought processes instead of accepting them at face value. It looked like progress.
"How are you feeling?"
Quote from Indy on August 15, 2020, 7:19 amWillowman exhaled heavily, curling over himself lightly as the air rushed out of him. His head pricked up, not looking at Amelia but just close enough to her that the approximation felt almost the same. His hands folded in his lap, offering every appearance of meekness.
Quietly, over the cool, crisp rush of the ventilation in the room, he heard a voice: Kill her.
The hands rummaged to his skull, massaging his temples. But he didn't move otherwise.
"Tired," Willowman replied softly.
Willowman exhaled heavily, curling over himself lightly as the air rushed out of him. His head pricked up, not looking at Amelia but just close enough to her that the approximation felt almost the same. His hands folded in his lap, offering every appearance of meekness.
Quietly, over the cool, crisp rush of the ventilation in the room, he heard a voice: Kill her.
The hands rummaged to his skull, massaging his temples. But he didn't move otherwise.
"Tired," Willowman replied softly.
Quote from Adriana on August 15, 2020, 5:12 pmAmelia nodded.
"We don't have to talk about it... but may I ask you something?" she was careful to read his body language this time, to watch for any nonverbal cues that might warn her further in advance of anything awry.
"Do you know why you came after me?"
Amelia nodded.
"We don't have to talk about it... but may I ask you something?" she was careful to read his body language this time, to watch for any nonverbal cues that might warn her further in advance of anything awry.
"Do you know why you came after me?"
