[J] Victor's Diary +Illusionist: Josie_Arrikanez+

[Reseil Mesai]

I’ve never known a king greater than he who presides over the orchestra. The sullen ivory tones that move the soul into emotion, both joy and sorrow, rested upon the monarch’s brow. The king of music - the piano. I play my heart out. I play for my salvation. With song so tenderly embracing this weary musician, I know I shall live to play another day. I know I shall live to serve a king known as piano.

- Raizen Arrikanez

A king withholding, the captive stranger held fast beneath the gargantuan cowl of dusk. Unfeeling, the frail fibers split as the silent strings lovingly stroked the appendage trapped within their tomb. Years had passed since those strings had reached out to make love to the senses divine. Now, the grey of age had fallen upon them. The music was no more, but yet they’d reverberated as the lid had shut - their slumber disturbed by this ear to attend them.
Quite literally an ear! The rag doll rabbit hung limp from the makeshift gallows, its ear trapped within the innards of the instrument. Confined by an ancient captor, the rabbit also shared in the passing of years. The once lustrous brown fur was barren and coarse, the flesh bearing scars by the multitude with the threads bearing evidence to the slowly unraveling tapestry of the toy’s life. Yet, the eyes had remained intact, the shining black silicate stones that glistened in the afternoon light. They had watched the empty chamber for a painful amount of time, but it was today that a shadow passed over them. The optics sparked with a life unnatural to a toy such as this, as though life itself had been instilled long ago, before any law could preside over the rabbit’s agenda. The shadow began to loom larger as a truly living being approached and reached forth to grasp at the elder fibers that composed the rag creature.
Said shadow was not so large as the light played it out to be - for no dark stranger this, but a child of a very tender age - Victor. The boy had been allowed a rare opportunity to roam free of the delicate digits of his mother’s extended protection and had not taken such freedom lightly. No, he had roamed much farther than any other child would of normal circumstance. Victor had quite roamed so far than now the child was all alone, save for the tiny doll that served as his constant company and the animal his tiny clutches now had fiercely seized. The mournful cerulean optics traced the sanguinary physique of the rabbit before the ivory digits gave a demanding tug upon the rabbit, demanding its departure from whence it hung. There was a shudder from the animal before it was still again, still trapped, but now more than conscious of that going on. ‘Pull me down, child…’ The voice wasn’t audible by external measure, but within the mind of the one in contact with the stained material. Victor, too young to know yet of the evils of the world, knew only that he wanted the rabbit. He wanted it now, and if it could indeed speak, so be it. ‘Pull me down…’ Again, the child pulled, his hand aided by the miniscule appendages of his other living possession that in combined will with his found that the effort was not this time in vain. There was a great sound of the piano’s strings vibrating from the sudden commotion before the rag doll rabbit fell into the awaiting arms that barely, and just then, circled possessively around it.
The sound lingered upon the air for what seemed an ever before fading quietly away into nothing. However, it lived still in Victor’s mind, as though burned fresh into some inaccessible undulation of his cerebrum. The rabbit clutched in one arm close over the boy’s chest could feel the speed of the heart beneath hasten its rhythm as the sound was recalled, and it then knew that it had done well in speaking to this one. The stitching crackled as a sanguine smile traced the fluff’s features. ‘Play, little one. If you want to hear it again, you must play……climb up, just try, and I promise you will hear it again.’ As bidden, Victor pushed himself from the floor and grabbed onto the bench that stood just before the ivory keys. The delicate tips of his extended grasp could only barely grasp the edging of the seat, his efforts futile as the infant struggled to stand, let alone climb this miniature Everest. However - the rabbit had not been distrustful. As his pallid flesh made contact with the marble, the calcious digits began to shift, the flesh began to writhe and grow, as did the tissues of comprehensible reason that understood now more than ever his task. It was all a sudden affair of lust and change before he found he was now able to reach. He was now able to climb and did so, pulling up Lila and the rabbit with him. The beautiful doll, once situated was he keeper, was placed upon the edging just above the keys. There he would watch the raven tresses sway and frame her illustrious features as the rabbit began again to direct his actions. ‘Play…play, child. Play before time halts…play.’ Victor nodded and pulled the rabbit close before his first word was spoken and his hands met the keys that would unlock the errant sound, as had it unlocked his next stage in life. “Play…”

 

[Reseil Mesai]

Dear Diary,

I'm listening to the sound of change. My father once told me, 'Never be afraid of changes you can't control, for our world is constantly changing around us. Instead, learn from these changes and grow.' This advice is part of how I became a necromancer and I recall it now as I deal with the changes Victor is going through. My sweet little one has grown out of silence and slumber and in to walking and words. He has even grown so much as to have begun playing the family piano. Beethoven himself could not be prouder of a child.
My uncle, Raizen, has taken a particular interest in Victors' talent. He too plays the piano and has been observing him play and explore the ivory keys. All he has yet to discover is an unfamiliar toy - a stuffed rabbit. Victor seems to be very fond of it, so I'm allowing it to stay, for now.
Besides this development, Raizen has been observing something else as well, Victors' health. Our familys' little ones tend to develop health problems at about this age, and Raizen is concerned that the trait may be passed on. Victor may be an Illusionary, but he is still a part of this family, so he will not be escaping recieving a checkup. I have him schedueled to be examined tommorow. I pray that he's healthy...but only tommorow will tell. Until than, I'll allow him to play on in peace.

~ Josie

 

[Reseil Mesai]

Examination

The stark bone hue of the chamber did nothing to stimulate a sense of well being in the boy. Victor had no idea as to where he was or why he'd been brought there, but the sterile confinement in such a place was unsettling. Audible displeasure emanated from within the tiny figure as his sapphire optics roved his surroundings. Seeking comfort, his slender digits clung to the morose fabric being of his rabbit. However, the sought shift in emotion eluded him through his usual medium. Rather, only one presence consoled his troubled perceptions as he turned towards the familiar figure, his mother.

The woman had not so readily forsaken her child. Through the onyx mane her fingers raked, gently playing along his skull before ending the lengths and starting again. Why had she brought him here? Simple. It was not an uncommon occurrence that the younger members of her family would develop all manner of malady – most common of which involved a serious deficiency with the heart. Many before he had fallen victim to it. The death of a child was always tore at the heartstrings of the family, too many had succumbed to the agonizing pangs of a truly broken heart. Thus it had become requirement that all of them, nomatter how they came into the family, would be given a physical examination. However, the emerald optics observed the clock that hung on the adjacent wall, her uncle was late.

This was corrected soon enough. The passage opened to reveal the figure of the one anticipated. The man set aside his belongings and fully emerged into the room, his path of travel dictated so that he soon found himself standing before the child. Ah! Resemblance they shared. The man too shared the dark locks of the toddler, so to the azure eyes that carefully appraised the entirety of the infinitesimal figure. Unlike the toddler though, a kind smile played upon his features as he turned his attentions to his niece. “Good day, Josie. I’m sorry for the delay. Is this the child you had asked me to examine?” A slender brow arched in an expression dictating the obvious, as well as her annoyance with the matter. Raizen shook his head and offered an apologetic chuckle. “I apologize, so he is.” “Raizen…I grow impatient. Get on with it.”

Eager as Josie was, Victor was not pleased. The child possessively clung to his rabbit, piercing glare fixated upon his so-called great uncle. Who was he to evaluate him?! Who did he think he was to simply waltz up so confidently to he? Resemblance or not, Victor felt no kinship with the man. Be so calm as he was, one thing was determined then and there. He wasn’t going to let this person have his way so easily.

Raizen would not be deterred. Victor wasn’t the first patient to offer such a look, so the man already knew what to expect as he mounted the earpieces of his stethoscope. Victor appeared already to be trying to get away, but Rai quickly squelched his break for freedom. A firm hand found itself upon the boy’s shoulder, holding him tight as he swiftly maneuvered the flat chest piece underneath the fabric of Victor’s attire and over the easily located apex. The fact it was so easily located was cause for concern. The boy had yet to put on weight since he’d assumed a physical form. Yet, he would grow into, or out of it, soon enough – so with disregard for the clearly etched ribs of the boy, Raizen focused upon the sound of his heart.

It was there he found a true surprise. It appeared that Victor had not inherited the cardiac tragedy of their bloodline. But he wasn’t of the blood, was he? Even then, it was a rare pleasure to hear a healthy heart about the castle grounds and Raizen savored it as long as he was allowed before a very audible growl began resounding from Victor, meaning it time to move on. Proceeding with his investigation, various instruments were employed. To each one a new obstacle was presented by the boy, only to be soundly thwarted until at last the examination came to an end. In sum, he was healthy. Unusually thin and with an exceptionally low blood pressure, but these were not things to cause undue worry. Turning to Josie, Raizen nodded. “He’s fine. There are a few things to keep an eye on, but nothing malignant.”

This news caused an air of relief to envelop her figure. Josie relaxed and smiled, reaching forth to pick up her little one before nodding her thanks to Rai. It wasn’t her style to be over enthusiastic with anyone other than her master, but to even this extent, it was a welcoming gesture not often spared. Victor was healthy…and be he displeased now, as he lay in her arms, or not, he would live to see another day.

 

[Reseil Mesai]

Rp

Victor and Josie visit an Asylum only to meet up with Aure and some new friends. One is an inmate. One is a b*****d. And the other one is just trying to get the hell out! Read along with us, won't you?

The Funny Farm

 

[Reseil Mesai]

 

[Reseil Mesai]

 

[Reseil Mesai]

Dear Diary,

As you may have noticed from the last two pages, I am teaching Victor to read, write, and spell. My father considers it too early to be teaching him, but I believe it's essential to learn early. Victor is doing well for his age. I think he has trouble holding the pen, and thus the smudges. I have no idea how he managed to muss the page like that.

I'm glad that he has taken an interest in education. However, he's still a child. He has an imaginary friend, Mr. Rabbit, who apparently is teaching him to play piano. I'm not sure if he's using it as an explanation for his abilities, but his music is genuinely astonishing. Perhaps he is simply to young to understand his own potential. Mr. Rabbit is his security object, his means with which to be confident. Otherwise, he refuses to play. I've experimented with it, but have only met dead ends. Ah well, I'm sure he'll grow out of it. I won't take the toy away until he's willing to let it go, so I suppose it's here to stay for the next few years. It and Lila are his constant companions.

Speaking of! Lila is doing well. Victor is learning responsibility through taking care of her. It is now his regular routine to feed her morning, noon, and evening - as instructed, as well as brush her hair every day. I make sure to leave her milk (and weekly cookie) well in reach by his bedside, so he has the means to care for her. Through his regimen, she's been thriving, and will even sing while he plays his notes. It's a wonderful sight.

I can't wait until we meet other parents and their children. I think Victor will do well, with his developing skills. He's met Aure twice now, as have I, and a curious woman in an asylum. I don't know whether we will return there, but I'm sure that I can handle anything that may occur.

I ramble though...I can hear Maverick tapping his foot in the other room now, so I shall return to write later. Until than, keep well, diary.

- Josie

 

[Reseil Mesai]

For those, be it no one, who may be wondering, this is Mr. Rabbit. I don't know how or where Victor found him but he refuses to let him out of sight. Victor is so attached that I decided to dedicate this entry to him. So, here it goes. I'm writing this as Victor tells me it is.

Mr. Rabbit is a grown up. He knows everything about playing the piano, and spent many years in one. He was put there by a bad man who didn't like the piano. He hated it so much he put Mr. Rabbit in the wires. Victor found him ( gods knows how ) in a back room in my uncle's castle. Mr. Rabbit is happy to be free from the piano, but can't play anymore, so he's teaching Victor in his stead.*

*I personally believe Victor is simply gifted in music, as opposed to being taught.

Mr. Rabbit, this being my bit, is a torn up burlap plush. His eyes have faded, and blood stains his fabric. It's creepy, for a child's toy. Why in the world any child would want something that looks so dilapidated is beyond me. Victor loves him though, and is giving me a dirty look for questioning his tastes.

Either way, that sums up Mr. Rabbit. He's a piano teaching fluff scrap who will fall apart eventually. Until then, all hail Mr. Rabbit...  

[Reseil Mesai]

 

[Reseil Mesai]

Dear Diary,
Lately Victor has been a bit more vocal about his thoughts. It’s only to me, of course, and that Rabbit of his. I’ve tried to personify some of the things he’s been mentioning in these doodles that I’ve listed above. Where to start though? I suppose with the bucket, or my attempt AT a bucket.
Victor has one clear phobia. Some kids are scared of the dark, some of spiders, some of monsters under the bed….you get the idea. Victor is none of those things. I suppose it’s partially my fault, but Victor is scared of water. Not a dislike, like boys his age. He’s afraid of it to the point that he refuses to walk with me if there’s even a chance of rain, or if I go near the pond. Bath time has become a nightmare over it, but what can I do? All the reason I’ve gotten is ‘bad things will happen if I get wet.’


Next the Bible, or my attempt at it. He isn’t scared of it like the water. He simply abhors the thing. My brother, a Life mage, came in from his studies one day, carrying his Bible. Nothing big right? Well, he set it down for a moment to talk with me, and Victor picked it up and threw it into the fireplace! Needless to say, it was ruined. Jacob was angry over it, and I was unhappy over the matter to, but Victor would not apologize to either of us. He only smiled and said “Good riddance.” I have no idea why he hates it so much, but we’ve since learned to keep religious books out of his reach. Thankfully I don’t keep many, as I serve the god of Death.


Then there’s the infamous Mr. Rabbit again. Does he ever get tired of talking to that thing? I guess it’s really his only playmate, as most of the children here are much older, but still, it’s bothersome. I haven’t tried to take it away – nor will I – but I’m hoping that Mr. Rabbit doesn’t get in the way of him interacting with others of his kind… I drew Mr. Rabbit this way simply for the fact he seems to be a bit insane. Not that Victor is, just Mr. Rabbit.


The rest of the doodles are simple things I’ve seen lately. Donna actually managed to steal Maverick’s boxers today. We never thought it would happen, since she’s petrified of him, but while he was making out with Baron – she did it. She ran up behind him, tore off his pants in mid gasp, and then ran as fast as she could. She’s only alive for the fact Maverick was too shocked to kill her – and that she’s immortal anyways, as a child of the god of Chaos. Silly Donna. I haven’t told anyone, but I really thought it was brave of her to do it. Even funny, though I did have to shield Victor’s eyes. Hard to do when trying not to laugh.

That's about it. I'll write some more later.  

[Reseil Mesai]

Dear Diary,

It’s that time again.
No, not to spin the wheel of Morality.
Not to watch Don Knotts films…
Time for more sketches.

Ok, the one that is most obvious is…well…obvious.
I saw this thing, really saw it, standing over Victor. He was playing piano
this afternoon, and when I walked in to check on his progress I could distinguish a shadowy silhouette hovering over him. It definitely had long ears…and it was coming from that rabbit. As soon as it heard me enter, it turned to look, before vanishing. All that was left was the rabbit. Something is up – and I’m starting to understand that there is more than meets the eye about Mr. Rabbit… I have yet to decide a course of action.

On a lighter note…I have a secret admirer, of sorts. When I went out for a walk this morning I found a grave (as I generally walk amongst the dead ) with a new set of markings. My initial along with someone else’s were painted on the headstone. I’m the only J in the family, besides my brother, so I can’t help but wonder who it’s for. Maybe whoever it was will come forth?

What amazes me about the prior bit is that the marks weren’t washed away. The weather as of late has been nothing but torrential rain. Because of it, Victor is refusing to leave the house. He spends the days he can’t make it to the castle in the study of our home, sitting quietly in Maverick’s presence. There are a few things he’ll play with now and again, but mostly he writes in his journal or scribbles down some loose notes.

Some of the things aren’t so much notes as pictograms. I noticed he tried a loose version of my studies by making a crude voodoo doll drawing and a pentagram – so I thought I’d touch it up a bit. I’m not summoning devils or anything, mind, but Maverick wants me to memorize all the markings of anything corresponding to Necromancy.

That’s all that has been up recently. I hope the rain stops soon so that Victor can join me on my walks, as well as play the piano. Until such a time, I’ll continue my musings and observations until he begins writing again.  

[Reseil Mesai]

The liquid was like a bullet to the brain. A small child screamed as the contents of his skull splattered against the wall. Victor's eyes widened for the last time. Was he dreaming, or was he dead?

It had been raining since midnight and all that day. The events transpiring where unimportant. It was what didn't happen that was significant. He had not gone out in the torrential downpour that afternoon. He had not played to ward away those stirred the moist gravel with their boots as they approached in the evening hours.

Julia sat at the piano. How did he know her name? The ruddy glow of the lamp illuminated her sweet features as they bent over the keyboard. They were alone now. No one disturbed the child who practiced reverently each afternoon, and because of this, no one had discovered him. His features didn't move, but he smiled. Serene as she looked, the artery walls were weakening. The visceral membrane thinned and the organ struggled. It was exciting, but terrible. She played on and on, every note composed to be her own requiem.

Victor pleaded with the dark as he lay in his little bed. Mr. Rabbit offered some comfort, but even he was silent tonight. The night the music did not play on in the boy's mind as he listened, pulling the covers up close as he was convinced he could hear footsteps.


Why had she not played? He had demanded it. He was so close. The girl's melodic laughter almost an eerie sort of cry that rang reminiscently through his mind. Something had gone wrong and he could hear the heavier footfalls of grown men rushing towards the playroom. The door was thrust open violently. Julia was clinging to the coat tails of her father, cheeks stained with desperate screams for him to stop. Another figure accompanied him, draped in black. Across his vital jugular a band of white was bound, as though to seal his soul in to the mortal shell. In one hand he clung, white knuckled, to a book. The symbol was unsettling and an unfounded convulsion of terror seized him. There was the sound of the accursed. Water. The tell-tale dripping filling the air, mingling with the girl's increasingly frantic pleas. He couldn't focus. His breathing hitched as the man angrily lashed out. "Be gone demon!!!" Her scream split the air at the same moment that the water made contact.

The liquid was like a bullet to the brain. A small child screamed as the contents of his skull splattered against the wall. This time it was Victor. He didn't know how he had gotten out of bed or when he'd been embraced by his mother. His wretched sobs split the air as the rain scattered the earth outside. He wasn't dreaming....this was a nightmare.
 

[Reseil Mesai]

Dear Diary,

Time is like a thief. In the tender age of childhood it comes and steals
away innocent intentions, distorting our view of the world and corrupting our souls.
Victor has been having nightmares. I’m not sure what to do.

I start today with the sketch in the lower right and to the left above. Yes, it’s a sorry thing. It’s what keeps my son awake at night, the footsteps he hears just beyond the night’s shadows. I now check as every other mother does at the request of her child. Instead of in the closet, I check through the halls. Instead of beneath the bed, I scour our gardens for phantoms. A man in black with a white band around his throat, holding a book scarred across the cover. The first thing that came to mind was a priest and it would explain his hatred for the Bible. I don’t know what experience could have done this. Was he a victim of a Catholic fraud? Or is there something about Victor that the priest abhorred? Is there something beyond those innocent blue eyes that bore into your soul? They shift when he thinks you aren’t looking, they calculate things that a toddler shouldn’t be capable of devising. I have no proof. My theories are baseless and unfounded, but my child is afraid of priests…and they, perhaps, of him. It’s my maternal duty as a mother to investigate. I will state it here on paper. No matter WHAT I find out – I will always love Victor. I am a servant of death and the practice of distortion, I have no place in this world to evaluate the souls of anyone but those Death has itself claimed.

Moving on…

The cloud is for Ean and my uncles. The rain seems to be effecting everyone in the castle. Some are happy about it. My aunt Donna has been elated in jumping into mud puddles. Some are not so pleased. My uncle, Zael, seems to be going stir crazy as he’s penned inside the castle. Everyone has become restless in some way and it’s beginning to show. It’s only through grace the clouds are dispersing as I write. I see them slipping slowly over the border of the world, scattered and cleansed.

The scroll and rose are for myself. I found them today, signed by my admirer. He didn’t leave his name, but I’m feeling a little ill. Is it love sickness? I’m feverishly blushing as I remember his words. I won’t repeat them here. They’re personal, and I suppose I’m selfish. Maybe I’ll pen them some day, but for now know that I’m ill and not complaining one bit about it.

For now, I think I’ll go scout out something to preoccupy my thoughts. I think that Victor could do with a little fresh air, so I’m going to head off on a walk. I’ll write again when I have something to say.
 

[Reseil Mesai]

Rp

Josie is browsing for manga but it's Victor that winds up finding something. An Illusion he hasn't met yet! What will happen?

Two different worlds - United by Manga