fatespoken | ∞ [twenty-six] | memory theater curse

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∞ [twenty-six] | memory theater curse

|| memory #1

A young boy crept down the hallway, casting wide eyes at the darkness around him. There were all sorts of creatures that could hide in the dark, ones that he could trace from the shadows clinging to the wall. Surely, they would eat them if given the chance...

"Gregory, we’re almost there..."

He squeezed his plush alligator against his chest, slowly gripping it tighter until he reached his parents’ bedroom. There was no time for ceremony when being pursued by monsters, he thought, so he entered without a knock.

"There’s- There's a monster- "

The words had caught in his throat, replaced by an impregnable silence as he stared. He was just dreaming, right? It had to be a dream- the sight of his Father pressed against Mother's neck; the blood on his lips, red smeared across her neck and spotted on her white nightgown.

"Honey- Amory, Dear god- Calm down, sweetheart. Nothing's wrong-"

Her words fell silent, as he leaped onto the bed where he proceeded to whack his Father with his stuffed animal.

"Don't hurt Mommy! You're supposed to love her! Why did you hurt her, Daddy? Why did you hurt her-" he cried.

"Sweetheart, calm down. Daddy wasn't hurting me at all-"

The little boy continued to make a scene with Gregory, until arms took hold of him, pinning him down in an awkward sort of hug. Or at least a semblance of a hug.

"Amory, listen to me-"

|| memory #2

"Can we go on the teacup ride?"

The boy was now a little older, around five or six if his missing front tooth was any indication. His attention were fully focused on the man beside him, as he stared at him with impossibly wide eyes. The victim seemed to be in his late twenties and shared similar colorings as the boy — hazel eyes and dark hair.

"Daddy? Then we can go on the Dumbo one- You know the one that goes up really high flies through the air! And I bet it'll look really cool 'cause all the stars will blend together, and, and, and-"

The man responded with a quirk of an eyebrow, shaking his head.

"Ask your Mother."

"But you could make it spin really, really fast."

"I am not going to ride the teacup, Amory."

"Pleeeeaaaaaaaseeeee."

"Get on the ride with him, Dear," a woman's voice interjected, her tone making it apparent that this wasn't merely a request.

There was a moment of silence all around as the three of them stared at each other. The child with wide, begging eyes. The man who's eyes spoke of disbelief, and the woman who was almost to the point of glaring.

"...Let's go then."

He sighed and reached out an arm to ruffle the boy's hair. His affection was returned in full as the child immediately latched onto his waist.

"Thank you, Daddy! You're the best!"

|| memory #3

He stood beside the doorway, watching in silence as concern continued to press heavy on his nerves. He had witnessed this scene time and time again— his mother with a blue ribbon in her hair, binding wounds with coils of white tape.

"How come you're always getting hurt, Mommy?"

The woman jumped in surprise, dropping the roll of tape in her hand.

"Amory..."

"Your arm is bleeding all over, and your leg- Why don't you ever go to the hospital? Why are you always getting hurt?"

"Because it's part of my job, Amory."

"Then you should quit your job! Daniel said his Dad quit his job because he didn't like it."

"Things are not always that simple, Amory. There are things we can't control, things we must do even if we don't necessarily enjoy them-"

"Then you should tell Daddy to help you! You know he doesn't like it either!"

This wasn't the way to talk to him.

She walked over to the young boy and bent down to look him in the eyes, placing one of her hands against his cheek.

"Fate can give us destinies that may seem impossible, pointless, or even idiotic; however we cannot simply run from them, Amory. Everything takes place for a reason and if we go against what we know we must do, then someone else will suffer for it. You remember what I told you before - that we're all part of one great motion?"

The young child opened him mouth to reply, but instead leaned over to wrap his Mother in a hug, burying his tears in her dark hair.

"I just don't want to see you hurt, Mommy."

[ooc: Affected by the Memory curse! Apologies for the wall of text, along with any typos. I was in a rush to write this. ;; Also, Amory's...actually sleeping right now and will wake up around the first comment. |D; And proceed to be more embarrassed than he's ever been in his entire life. ~~Greeegory~~]

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...Amory?

That does not sound like my alarm clock.

Edited 2009-08-10 05:47 (UTC)

[ There's some shuffling in the background, then a clatter as he kicks the communicator off the bed. ]

Maybe this thing would stop turning on by itself, if I'd stop dropping it on the floor.

Who's there-

[ He's finally caught sight of the Memory Theater post, cue silence.]

.....

...No.

No.

This is just a fucking dream. This absolutely has to be a dream. The City wouldn't be this cruel-

...Why am I trying to kid myself, this is the City.

I can't believe this. This time it's gone too far-

Amory, relax. I'm sorry I woke you up.

I take it these are... images from your past?

No, no. It's a good thing you woke me up. It means I can delete this thing before anyone else sees it.

Edited 2009-08-10 06:01 (UTC)

...Yeah, it is. ~~It would be impossible to deny it.~~

As you can see, I was like any other child - whiny and petulant.

I saw neither of those things, I saw a little boy who loved his mother dearly.

[ooc: have work in the am, so I have to bail, but I'll tag back later. Oh, and congrats, Amory's now on Promise's vampire-related watch list. Sorry.

I can't deny that, not that it is something I'd ever want to deny. She gave me every reason to care for her.

...Nevertheless, I don't think even you would be too happy if everyone got to see you as a kid, whining about scary monsters in the dark.

Why won't it delete-

[ooc: No problem! And soooob, Amory would be mock!insulted, since he ha has very minimal interaction with them. Perfectly human and playing the "I'm not talking to you" game with his Father in canon. |D ]

...Amory.

[ there's an exasperated sigh ]

Well, if that wasn't embarrassing.

...Hi.

[It's actually just the faint buzz of an open connection -- silence at the other end.]

All children are frightened of monsters, Amory, that's nothing to be upset about.

Are you really that bothered by people seeing you as a little boy?

I tend to be a private person.

Understandable. Many people are.

[Thanks to his often faulty communicator, he knows that sounds quite well.]

Well? Are you going to keep staring, or are you actually going to say something?

[awkward silence]

...I'm perfectly normal, you know. Regardless of what the curse chose to show.

[Does not buy this at all.]

From a slightly... abnormal family. Of course.

[ if this was a video comment, you'd see him shrug ]

It wasn't your normal nuclear family, I'll admit. Doesn't mean I can't make an average life for myself.

Edited 2009-08-10 23:43 (UTC)

Of course not.

Are you feeling better? I understand you were sick recently?

I'm fine now.

Honestly, everyone else was just overreacting - It only takes a day or two for me to get over it.

You have periodic debilitating pain and we're overreacting?

Last week's attack was just exceptionally strong. And even if I have my sick days, you don't see me keeling over at work, do you?

I don't like people fretting about me. It's annoying.

This isn't about work, Amory. And I'll stop "fretting" after you answer two questions.

Have you seen someone to find out what causes these attacks?

How many times have I heard this already? Why I do even bother putting up with all of you...

I know the reason, and I treat it as well as I can. Satisfied?

Yes, actually.

[And on the other end of the line Chase clears his throat and shakes his head. Hesitates.]

Gregory?

Of course it's you.

Don't tell me you didn't have a stuffed animal as a child. You seem more the blanket type, though.

[Paaaaause. And what the hell.]

I had a Steiff Australian Shepherd. But I didn't call it Gregory.

[Sorry, Chase. He's in attack mode.]

What did you call it then? Snuffles?

And Gregory is a fine name.

[Is he ever not? This first word is softly accented - not australian.]

Hejsek.

Well I guess House's parents must have thought so.

[Nope. Well, at least to Chase.]

Czech?

Thanks. You've just forever soured a series of childhood memories.

Not many people pick that one up.

And you're welcome. He's soured plenty of mine, I think there's room to pay it forward.

It was mostly a lucky guess.

And it sounds like you must have lots of fun at your job.

Most Americans think it's a chess move, not a language.

I work for House. Though to be fair I don't know too many medical professionals who got into it for the shits and giggles.

I spent most of my teenage years abroad.

The question is why you put up working for House.

Must have made for a tricky time in high school.

Because House is an arse. Which means he'd have been fired a long time ago if he wasn't also a bloody good doctor.

Homeschooling. Works like a charm.

Of course he's good doctor. Gave me my prescription without a fit. You, on the other hand, would probably do a lot of lecturing and nagging before you finally refuse to sign anything.

Right, unless you speak better English than your mum does.

I'd want to actually look at you, rather than throwing you a piece of paper to get you out of my hair. Apparently trying to do my job's a crime lately.

You might be surprised to hear this, but House actually did look at me. I got what I wanedt and that was that - just the way I like it. Now if I went to you, I assume you would use the pain pills as a metaphorical carrot to get me to pursue further treatment.

By the way, if you dig up my files? I will go over there and punch in the face.

[ooc: ngfhfd typo. he's a good doctor*]

If I thought there was something more than pain management that we could do for you, I'd suggest it. Otherwise I'd give you the damn pills. There's no underhand medical conspiracy going on here. Nobody's going to force you to let them make you better. We have to get you certified as not of sound mind to do that, and the process is long and irritating.

I wouldn't have to dig them up, I'd have to type in your name and click 'go'. I haven't.

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∞ [twenty-six] | memory theater curse

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