The Amaryllis Project [ Chapter Nine ]
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
Katsurou, as it turned out, was right; stare at a page long enough and you start seeing a lot more than what is there. One does get really tired eyes and blurred vision for a while afterwards, but really, it worked. And if you were someone like Iriel, who just had an inability to read books that were assigned and that he had no interest in, yet could stare so long you could analyse the text in-depth, something was very very wrong.
As so it was in the class College Level Two Hyphen Seven, a motely collection of around thirty-two students ranging from seventeen and eighteen years old gathered in a small, cramped lecture theatre that looked terribly squashed when there was full attendence, without the teacher. When they had Mr. Peyote Went in class with them, the squashed atmosphere became absolutely stuffy and dull, so much so the air itself seemed to almost drip down in globs, enveloping the students in a cocoon of lethargy and a persistant inability to concentrate. His hypnotic voice, worked backwards, hypnotising in a way that no teacher would want, like a drone. And it would buzz rhythmatically in the ears of his poor students till one by one, they dropped out of the air and into a zombie-like, almost comatose state. Usually in class, Iriel was the first to go pay his respects to the kind Sir Sandman and drop by the doorstep of his home, the aptly named Dream Land. Today however, he was kept awake with help of his kind friend and fellow suffering lecture mate: Xenia Xu and her good friend Valkyrie Rinelth, who had already completed three-quarters of the journey towards the home of Sandman. Steven Hartell, to his right had already made it to and past the door, and was now snoring softly with his head on the table.
"Iriel, have you ever explored the campus?" Xenia asked, quite out of the blue.
"Nah, no time..." He was feeling sleepy, he really was. The fact that Steven was snoring to his right was just adding fuel to the fire, Val was also nodding off where she was, her head repeatedly slipping off the perch of her hand for the past five minutes in a way that shook herself to a level of drowsy awakeness. Just watching them made Iriel feel sleepy. Had the bright, alert presence of Xenia been absent, Iriel was certain he would have joined the two drowsing friends of his on their journey and caught a couple of winks.
"You know... Just because they request for you to do an unseen test at the end of the programme--" God, why was it suddenly so clear the way she pronounced the additional two letters 'm' and 'e' behind the word 'programme' to him? "--study all the time. Take a break off and go--" Ah, the cooling air-conditioner was such a gift to mankind... and the fan was in his direction, the breeze... "--there's this very interest room called the Reflect--" So sleepy... "--listen to me Iriel, I'm--" Iriel felt his eyes closing, "--Wake up, Mr. Went is coming towards us."
"...Mister Went... went... where?"
"Here. Wake. Up!" She emphasized her last word with a sharp slap to his arm, making his jerk awake with a yelp. "Feeling more awake now? Want me to shake your teeth out of your head too?" Iriel never felt more awake after the clean sharp pain, and he hastily shook his head in response. "Good," she muttered, sounding disgruntled as she twiddled her pen, not seeming to pay any particular attention to the Power Point slides, nor the lecture.
"What were you saying about the school?" Iriel tried, now that he was unable to return to his drowsiness, he was stuck being wide awake in the presence of two sleepers and one put-off character, whom he realised would be his only partner available for conversation for the rest of the hour and forty-five minutes of the lecture.
She tossed her black curls and looked away, "Nothing. Write your notes."
.x.
It was mostly Xenia's fault, but Iriel decided after a long moment of dsgruntled, reluctant thinking that maybe it was his own fault as well. The weekend was now flying by him, with the eventful chatter-filled homework sessions with The Talking Wonder Steven, and dinner study session with Strange Ambiguity Katsurou occupying his Saturday, and now this lecture taking up his afternoon times. Iriel was beginning to rue his inability to wake earlier, and him not speaking with Xenia more often. The girl was popular, she knew things he didn't, and she was bound to know other more interesting places to go than just what they had on the floor directory. It was only five days since he moved in on that eventful Tuesday, and now it was Sunday, almost a full working week, and he was already starting to get bored. And it was the girl's fault that he was reminded of it.
Here he was, standing in the shower having the water rain down on his head as he thought. Life was dull, he should have realized a long long time ago. Or he had not. Iriel, the one who grew up with three sisters, all of them as different as night and day and all of them were little bundles of energy and life on their own. They had always been around to tide him over his boring days, and when all else failed, he had his own friends and classmates to mess around with. Here he knew no one, and like wise was a nobody. All he had was a few acquaintances who were involved in their own world, a world that didn't include him.
It was something he wasn't particularly used to, this he knew, and this he was reminded of as he tugged at the rough white wool towel off the hook and pulled it to his face. Rubbing his face with it till his face was starting to prickle from the static and friction, he sighed as he towelled at his hair, pulling on his underwear and later his pants automatically. But he was stuck here for a month, he may well get used to it, make some new friends, get a life... He exited the bathroom, towel still draped over his shoulder.
"Aha, thy scoundrel, Bow down to me whilst I must chide thou a little, has thou forgotten the wise words of thine father? Why art thou as such, a fool with no ambition, no hope, no ideals? Art thou not a man--" Steven again, Iriel stared at him, all decked out in a huge hat, pinned with a large plume that looked suspiciously like ostrich feathers, and brandishing a foam sword, his recently-washed blanket tied around his neck and flying out in an undramatic, fluttering cape. It was pathetic, really, but yet it was hilarious. Like Val, like Xenia, he spoke Shakespearen like it was part of him, smoothly and fluently like an old pro. "What is wrong with thou? Draw thine sword and fight like a man or thou art cowardly like a mere swine?"
Iriel got over the surprise quickly, having become someone accustomed to Steven's sudden changes, crazy antics and the like. "You aren't much of a threat, with a puny knife like that," Iriel mocked, sounding less scornful than amused as he strode to the cabinet, tossing his towel over onto the chair as he door and picked out a random t-shirt. Pulling the bright pink article of clothing over his head, he shut the door and leaned against it, giving Steven a calm look as he floundered for a moment.
And then, Steven suddenly had a gleam in his eye. He straightened, shaking his head and an extended index finger at Iriel. "Tsk tsk tsk, Iriel Iriel Iriel..." he smiled knowingly, "You underestimate me. This sword may not be too big to your eyes, but--" he abruptly swung his body, arm brandishing the sword and straightening rapidly in a perfect stop-thrust, "--It is big enough to go through you!" While Iriel was still sputtering and reeling in shock, Steven swept his hat off and bowed grandly. He even had the gall to wink at him, and Iriel could have sworn he batted the hat in a manner that could only be flirtatious, "That is such a manly shade of roseate fuschia by the way."
Iriel glared at him, his face flushed from his recent fit of chocking from surprise. Keep this up, and Iriel was going to die some day, from choking. Heaven forbid, he'd rather let himself choke to his own disastrous end than have some madman like Steven Hartell attempt the Heimlich Manoeuvre on him. Extracting himself from the cool comfort of the wooden wardrobe door, Iriel resumed his usual posture, slouching down with his arms folded and feet firmly rooted. "You know, I've been thinking... This school, how much do you know about it?" he began, as rude and demeaning as he could make it sound.
Steven was unperturbed, like always. "Oh, enough. I won't get lost, but it has plenty of rooms I've never been in..." He was untying his blanket cloak from his neck now, tossing the sheet of bleached starch-white fabric onto the bed, and setting the plumed velvet hat carefully onto the table, "It's interesting enough, but I never found the time or interest in exploring. Why? Heard the rumours of a hidden room eh?"
Iriel shrugged, trying to appear disinterested, "Yeah, thought it sounded funny. I mean, come on, hidden room? Whatever for?"
"It's a good place to be for studying, silent and all. Providing it IS a hidden room, which leads to the problem of finding it in the first place. Either way, I've heard stories. Something about the couple who used to chair the school, the old Ammiel Institute. It was supposedly a show of love. I forgot why. You should go search for it if you want to. You look really interested, the face ain't fooling no one." Iriel gave him and indignant glare as Steven grinned, stashing the foam sword into one of the drawers at his desk, "You look bored, some good ole treasure hunting would do your depraved, bored inner child some good. Now go leave me in peace whilst I go in pursuit of the trickery thing that is the fickleness of women's hearts and affections. Oh Jane you trickster!"
Iriel felt his eye twitch as Steven picked up a copy of Jane Austen from his - Iriel's - table drawer, presumably "Sense And Sensibility", and settling down into his chair to read. "If you continue to act like you do now, you'll never manage to catch anything from your 'pursuit'," Iriel laughed, as he turned towards the door, pausing to pull on some fresh socks which he then retrieved from the wardrobe.
"I beg to differ. You are the one who looks like he needs to get laid. I'm happy as am I, an asexual in love with compilations of ink, paper and glue. A bibliophile of strange, epic proportions," Steven sounded deadly serious, and to which, Iriel had absolutely no reply. A pause later, Steven had glanced up with his book in hand, looking mildly annoyed like Iriel was distracting him from some private matter, "Aren't you going to storm out? Now's the good moment!"
.xxx.
Labels: T.A.P.
about one xREDballoon
about meIt was the username that was adopted either in late August or early September of 2009. It was the combined effect of too many games on Orisinal (especially High Delivery) and also her long-time love for how the large red carnival balloons when they fly away.
about meFinalized as a digital signature only in November of the same year, it has since been used everywhere: her previous Gaia account, her account on bubbl.us, and of course every recent endeavor on web and graphic design. It was an aim of hers to use it as something of a brand. From her sketches to simple blog layouts, one xREDballoon presents is her favourite signature as of now.
about meone xREDballoon is the internet handle of a girl, born on a wet day in the early morning of late February. Although astrologically she is a Pisces, she displays many of the Aquarian traits, possibly as a result of being born near the time. She likes the concept of beauty in its most primitive classical form, ruffles layered upon each other generously for flounce or decor, detailed black lace be it crochet or woven, a whole palette of colours from turquoise to grey. She is charmed by the way an old well-read book smells on a wet rainy day, and the way the pages feel, all crinkly and wise under her fingers as she turns the page. She loves the inviting appeal of a blank notebook, and a good gel-ink pen in the colour of the sky.
about meLearn more about her in her personal blog.
about And Then She Fell
about meAndthenshe-fell@blogspot was named as such in October 09, on a whim and on a wish to match the layout that time. And Then She Fell was a lot of things back then: a roleplay layout (in bbcode), a roleplay idea (which was never developed) and also the words emblazoned in huge Ruritania upon an image which showed a falling girl. That was the beginnings of this writing blog as the all-new concept of And Then She Fell.
about meFrom the start, And Then She Fell has always been a semi-personal blog. While visitors are not unwelcomed, no particular effort is put into censoring the content or to sound polite. Just as well that the blog touches on intangible unimportant things, for if it were to talk of life and its nuances, things would sour quickly and it would become a blog of cynical views and criticism.
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