Caught in the Rain

[Sumnner]

(Open)

He was standing in the center of the street. The long double yellow line stretching out in front of him for as far as the eye could see, the rough texture of the asphalt beneath giving it a fractured, unfinished look. Pale yellow reflectors, spaced evenly on each side of the double line, glinted and shimmered in the glaring sunlight from over head.

What am I doing here? The thought fluttered and spun around in his mind like a bi-polar butterfly; he was unable to fully bring it to bear, his mind moved on. He started walking, subconsciously adjusting the violin case on his back to a better riding position, his free hand automatically searching his pocket. His mind stumbled for a moment, what was he searching for? Something that was supposed to be there, but wasn't. Again, like some bi-polar butterfly the thought never settled and he moved on.

He walked forward, the sun beating down around him like some great heat lamp in a massive oven, the heat rising from the ground in all directions like some shimmering mist. His eyes flickered left and right, ahead and up, then down, never settling on one spot. To do so was to bring on a temporary blindness, even with the tinted lenses of his sunglasses to lessen the effect. A sweat broke out on his forehead but he ignored it. His hand once again reached into his pocket, searching.

Nothing. Where am I going? The thought bounced and rolled around in his brain, but it never matured. His feet kept moving, pulling him ever forward toward a goal he didn't know.

Seconds passed into minutes, on into hours and night was just beginning to fall when he found himself standing at the front steps of a soaring structure. All towers and balconies and suspended walkways, the massive building reminded him of something he saw in a book once. But I don't remember ever reading such a thing. This was normal, to find himself staring at something and finding it familiar but being unable to place the familiarity. Almost like Deja Vu, but happening almost every second of the day. He blinked and found himself standing in a grand hall, thick columns fanning off in each direction to encircle the great room, the high arched ceiling rising to an unimaginable height above him. When did I? Soft foot falls around him signaled something in his mind and he looked forward into the soft brown eyes of a kindly looking old man dressed in loose fitting brown robes.

"What can I assist you with today my son," the old man said sweetly, his words rolling off his tongue like water over smooth river stones. What am I - Words escaped from his mouth before he could pin the thought down.

"I need a quiet place to think," his voice said, escaping through lips dried from prolonged heat exposure. His tongue felt like it had been wrapped in cotton and he felt himself licking his lips despite the feeling. "Perhaps a glass of water."

The old man smiled, a kind, gentle smile with his eyes partially closed. He reached up to grasp a hold of an outstretched hand he did not remember raising, pulling gently to follow. "Follow me my son, and I will take you where you need to be."

The trip into the grand building was a blur, his thoughts too scattered, to incoherent, fluttering like butterflies who had been disturbed from their resting places by a gentle breeze. Why can't I - The thought went unfinished, interrupted by the kind voice of the old man. "We are here my son, enter and rest. A companion will be arriving shortly." He felt his head bob once and his feet shuffled him forward into the open doorway before him.

He blinked and found himself drinking quickly from a clear crystal glass filled with cool, sweet tasting water. He finished the glass and set it slowly down onto a short table that held a silver tray and glass pitched filled nearly to the brim with clear, clean water. His hand paused on the smooth surface of the crystal glass and he blinked.

The room spun and pain exploded in his right temple; his eyes popped open and he realized he was laying on the ground, the small table over turned and the crystal pitcher and glass shattered, the contents of the pitcher spilling out onto the floor. What -

The click of a door stopped the thought in its tracks; someone had just entered the room.

[Fantesticles]

Oh yeah go to the Citadel Apprentice, you’ll get some experience in! Nathan was bothered with the stupidity he faced on a day to day being a Vortex Apprentice. Most of the older Knights often tried to pass their mishaps off as knowledge. Finally now that Nathan had his Apprenticeship he could leave the Vortex Fortress and go have his own adventures. The first stop on his list was the Citadel having to hear about it for so many years from his elders. When he signed up to fight a random opponent he didn’t know that he would really be fighting off heatstroke in a seemingly foreign land. Maybe the monks had it out for him and they decided to send him to blistering hot town located directly under the sun.

His evenly paced steps caused a constant clicking noise that was the only sound he could hear for what seemed to be miles. This place was abandoned. Nathan found himself falling into the common cliche that it was too quiet so obviously he would be ambushed by some lurking danger. He calmly withdrew his steel dagger that rested snugly in its hip holster. In the reflection of his blade he saw sweat beginning to drip from his pores. Nathan Estell needed to take cover quickly, and in front of him stood a large estate. It was worth a try, if no one was there Nathan could always just break in and take a load off. It wasn’t practical thinking but Nathan was not the most practical of men.

The sun seemed to follow him as he reached the dully decorated front door of the estate. The greeting mat read “Enter,” on it which seemed welcoming enough to the dehydrated Nathan. He gripped the metal door handle and stumbled into a house big enough to house three families. No one seemed to be in the common area but Nathan could hear the sound of shattering glass down the hall directly to his left.

“Uh hey somebody back there?” Nathan yelled tightening his grip on the dagger as he got closer to the first sign of another life form.

To his right he opened the door he suspected the noise came through and opened it with hesitation. In front of him lay a confused blond man. He didn’t rise when Nathan entered the room, maybe he hadn’t noticed him yet though.

“Hey there stranger, what’s your story? I’m Nathan Estell, and if I’m not mistaken I am here to fight you.” Nathan grinned at the man, he had just ruined his first advantage: The Element of Surprise.

[Sumnner]

He stared, blinking dumbly at the pair of booted feet in front of him. When did - He let his eyes flicker up, the thought melting into incoherent babbling, finally meeting the eyes of the person attached to the feet. Black spiked hair framed a pair of sparkling blue eyes, like the man had a hidden joke unspoken, surrounded by a face of pale smooth skin that was drawn back in a foolish grin. "What - " the word escaped his lips in a whisper before he could contain it and he squeezed his eyes shut.

He grunted as he pushed himself slowly to his knees and then back onto his haunches and then up onto his feet. His hands moved of their own violation and wrapped his head just behind his ears. He felt them slide down the back of his head and down off his shoulders to his side. His gaze flickered back up to the blue eyes of the man before him and he felt his head tilt slightly to the left.

"What," he paused, searching. "What is going on?" Something the man said earlier, the words having bounced around in his head until just a moment ago, came into focus with finality. "What do you mean fight? I never - " he blinked, his eyes only closing for a moment before opening; the room had changed.

Not the room itself had changed, but the position in which he stood in the room had changed. He was closer, within an arms reach of the man, almost uncomfortably close. He didn't know his fist was balled to strike until it flickered into his field of vision, racing toward the still grinning mouth of the man before him.

Wait! No! What is happening? I didn't want this! Why can't I control myself!?

The fist streaked toward the grinning man and he could only watch in horror as his body acted on its own violation.

[Fantesticles]

Nathan still wearing the same cheesy grin saw the blow coming but he knew there was nothing he could do. He just stood there and took it. They say when you get hit that hard your grandparents feel it. Nathan was dazed as he shuffle stepped backwards tipping an oak bookshelf that had appeared in the room somewhere between now and when he had entered. Dazed Nathan regained balance and found himself surrounded by objects that weren’t there when he had entered. From the looks of it most of his surroundings had changed, besides the dirty blond man that stood square with Nathan.

Nathan scratched his forehead with the steel dagger he still held. His grip from the blade was now loose. “So this is your big strategy? Come in here locked cocked and ready to roll, just start swinging, you sir are a maniac!”

Nathan was a pretty sarcastic guy when it came down to it. He didn’t really ever show any emotions and sarcasm was his way of expressing his feelings. “Well alright Buckwheat I guess two can play at that game...” As he spoke his hand drifted to his holster and he put the dagger away.

Nathan squared off with his opponent preparing for another cheap shot, he wasn’t a very good at brawling but he had issued several barroom beat downs. Judging by his opponents first strike and his current surroundings he knew this would be a bit different from the average everyday scuffle. Behind Nathan was a bookshelf complete with several full shelves of books.

“You a reading man, mister?..” Nathan turned to the shelf and grabbed the first piece of literature that caught his eye. The book was heavy in his heads and he flipped quickly through its pages. “...Me Neither!” With that Nathan hurled the book towards his opponent in an effort to distract and maybe throw his guard off.

[Sumnner]

The jolt of his fist connecting with the flesh of the other mans face sent shivers up and down his spine. He had never felt anything like it before, at least, he didn't remember feeling anything like it before. The shock of him even throwing the punch in the first place was still overwhelming his thought patterns and he found that he could only stare dumbly at the sprawling man. Something tickled his senses and his eyes lost focus on the man. The bookshelf on which he had landed was new, he hadn't seen it when he walked in. Of course, he didn't remember even walking into the room, much less looking around to see what was in it.

He backed up a step, his clenched fist still upraised before him, his eyes flicking back and forth, never settling on any one thing. The whole room seemed to be changing, from one glance to the next. What is this place?! Movement brought his eyes back into focus and he saw the man push himself to his feet and speak. The words had the same effect on him as the last time, bouncing freely through his mind, never fully meshing with his thoughts, never being fully comprehended.

He felt a sweat break out on his forehead and he backed up another step, this time bringing his other hand up beside the first. He didn't know what he was doing but it felt right, a distant feeling that he could connect to no memory, save instinct.

He hadn't meant to punch the man, hadn't meant to do any of what he had already done, but he was stuck and there was nothing he could do about it now. He blinked and something slammed hard into his face.

He cried out more in shock than pain really, his body twisting more out of instinct than cognitive reaction and he stumbled back a few steps, his hands and forearms moving up to surround his face defensively. He managed only a few steps before his legs tangled themselves together and sent him sprawling onto his back, the air from his lungs escaping in a loud whoosh as he hit the floor. He gasped and quickly pushed himself up onto his elbows, eyes narrowing and his chest heaving.

That was a book. Had to've been. There isn't anything else here to throw! His mouth twisted into a small sneer and he glanced around him. The other hadn't made any attempt to move yet, aside from throwing that book. Which tugged at something in his mind; he hadn't seen him throw it. Yet another moment of his life he had lost to the wanderings of his mind.

His eyes found the handle of the silver tray that had held the glass and pitcher, laying just a few hand lengths away. His eyes flickered back to the other, his mind finally, for the first time, firing on all its cylinders. In a single, if slightly jerky motion, he grabbed a hold of the tray and threw it as hard as he could at the man. It flew like a strange silver saucer, spinning through the air, glinting and flickering as the light from the rooms candles caught and reflected off its polished surface.

[Fantesticles]

Nathan wasn’t aware of his opponents retaliation attack until it was to late. The rotating silver tray came to Nathan’s face only moments after it left his opponents hands. The sound of the tray’s actual impact on Nathan’s face would be unforgettable. The snide grin that he wore deserted his now pale face. First came blood and then pain from Nathan’s nose. It was surely broken. Nathan licked his lips to rid them of the blood that was flowing constantly from his nose.

“Ah damn man...” Nathan let out several grunts of pain that not even he could understand. He was obviously a mixture of being shocked and angry. “... No more messing around.”

Nathan thought as he covered his nose. The blood now trickled down his chin and fell on his naked chest. He was more concerned about staining his trademark vest than his pain now. He could just cut his unarmed foe down right now with his dagger and end this fight. He wanted to, but he felt so wrong about it. Instead he choose to continue this fight as a bare fisted brawl to the death.

The fight had obviously taken Nathan’s mind from his surroundings as he looked around the room that looked completely alien to the room he stood in moments before. This didn’t make any sense, it seemed every time Nathan blinked the room changed in some way. From the furniture to the decorative wall paper, this room was much different from before. Nathan still holding his broken nose looked around for something soft to plug his nose with. Behind him the bookcase had now disappeared and in it’s place was a small desk that had several papers and a feather ink pen on it. Nathan grabbed a sheet of paper and proceeded to ball it up just small enough to clog his nostril. He then repeated this for the other nostril hoping he would not be interrupted by his opponent who had been given far enough time to attack Nathan again.