#drive kills

The most recent encounter with the drive was the same as it ever was. Until, of course, the new bit of memories that were restored to mind came into thought.

There was the same red-haired woman as last time, holding a child, whose hair was somewhere between the deep red of her own, and Dorian's black. It almost seemed like the child was born with black hair highlighted with red streaks. The boys eyes were brown. His stare was intent. How could one so young have such a stare?

Unlike before, where just the woman's name and appearance came to recollection, there was vastly more this time. This time, he knew who she was. And who knew who the child was. And yet, it was still not so simple as that.

"His name shall be Tama," Fitting, a "flower" born unto a woman who in certain circles was called Ivy and dealt heavily with magic related to Nature.

"Surely, the other children shall tease him, for having such an effeminate name," Dorian complained.

"It won't keep him down."

"How can you know? What if that teasing makes him doubt himself. He could wind up a shy and fearful boy unwanting to take any chances at all in fear of whatever rebuke people might offer in response."

"He'll have your endurance. And my drive."

"You mean your stubbornness."

"And if he has his father's wits, he'll also have a red ass."

But that was only one memory, one part of the whole of the memory of the boy. There was the passing of time. There was an older version of the boy, still a child, but not an infant. There was the child being taught, by Dorian, by Kain ... -- Who was Kain? The name was just there, but there was no context as to who he was. Dorian's eyes lingered for a moment on the letter "K" imprinted upon the hilt of his sword. Did the K in AKSN refer to Kain? If it did, who were the other people? Who was A? Who was S? Who was N? Nightmist... -- and then there was Vayne's teaching. Another name he did not recall to whom it belonged. Nevertheless, from all of the people the name Nightmist belonged, Tama learned how to handle a sword in combat, how to handle a sword and other weapons in smithing, how to wield magic, and finally, he learned about all sorts of other creatures that existed throughout the breadth of Arvandor.

Having a son was a treasure, but Dorian could not feel it. Was he a horrible person? Why did he not feel unconditional love while remembering his own flesh and blood? What would Rosa think of him? His hand went immediately to the ring hanging from a silver chain around his neck. The stone represented her, he knew it. But was it her wedding band? Or was it some other memento of her? Where was she? Where was Tama? Were they ok without him?

The imposed reverie was not done there, for no sooner had he asked himself the question, than he had the answer. Back in time his mind flashed, to when Tama was an infant again. It was only moments after the child was born that the conversation regarding his name was had, but in the moments to follow...

Rosa was gone. Her body lay lifeless on the table, the mess of childbirth not even cleaned up yet, the child resting in Dorian's arms, and Rosa... dead.

And when Dorian awoke, the drive lay in pieces, Dorian huddled around a piece of warped and bent metal, his breath expelling from his lungs in heaves and torrents. The ring had escaped his clothing, but still hung on the chain as it dangled over the ground. He stared at it, and looked around at the mess he had made here. And all he could think about was... was he the reason there was a mess back there, in his memories?

One mother dead, the father did yell. And for the life of the child, all was deemed a hell. But the child did rebuke, and one day did slay the father.

Then one day, when that child was a father himself, the mother did die. And as the once child, now father, looked into the eyes of his own child, he did wonder.

"Shall I condemn this child, and myself, to the same fate?"

One mother's blood was not enough, hmm? said the new voice in his head.

This space is full already, and there is no room for another. bellowed the recognized voice of Jinn.

Dorian whimpered. "Have I not suffered enough?"

"I told you, you need me. That fight, you only survived because of the special significance of that place. You survived because of that. Otherwise, you would be dead, all because you think you're better off with me."

Jinnzou was back.

"What more, now you have associated with someone who is enemy to this person you think loves you. Do you think they will be happy about that? Consorting with the enemy. Treason. That's what it is."

Louder than ever.

"Not only did you consort with the enemy, you acted all buddy-buddy, friendly, with the enemy! You offered them help. You tried to be on good terms. Are you a fool!? Are you an idiot!? Why am I even asking, the answer is yes."

And there was no way to respond.

"Surely, you see that you need me now. Surely you see that you cannot make these decisions on your own. If left to your own devices, you'll get yourself killed. I am strong, but if you set an entire clan of people against you, I won't be able to save you."

A sigh, exhaled breath through his nose, was his only response.

"Admit it."

"You are right ... Jinnzou..."

Reflection on his past had taken place. Recalling the days before he came to the island. Was life always like this? Was it something new, or was he nothing more than a record kept on a loop? The days following the spar with Wind were spent wandering the wilds. Venturing as far as Pleasantville and New Pitt on sheer chance. He would find himself before the Drive after a time. He had wandered into some cave, without having planned to, and just stared at it.

"Horatio again? Does this bucket not give up?"

"I hate tea... Go away."

A charge of electricity brightened the cave's insides, flashing out into the jungles outside. After a time, Dorian would find himself back in NewHome. How had he gotten there?

New thoughts were in his head. Or were these memories he hadn't thought of in a while? Was it something repeating, or did he have no clue?

A red haired woman and a child. That seemed familiar. His eyes drifted down to the ring hanging from a chain about his neck. He stared at the droplet gem fixed at the center, and he thought. What did it mean? Why did he have it? Who was the woman? Was the child his? There was only one thing clear, even now. A name.

A while ago, I found myself on this peculiar island. Upon arrival, not only was I devoid of my usual clothing, and unaccompanied by my usual “companions”, but I also found that the voice of Mor’Gorak was no longer whispering his fel tones in my mind.

The previous day, I wandered into Kittania to begin reviewing my newest finds out in the wilds of this island. I had a few herbs and a few random items I found out in the wild and off of creatures I was forced into confrontation with. Miss Siwa was there, and we began to discuss the manner of which I used magic, my alchemical study, and her need for training and instruction. As had been said previously, I offered my services. This time around, however, it would seem such would receive a more immediate response, and so soon, we departed the town known as Kittania, and went to the WATCH Headquarters, where a small lab was allowed me, within a private office. There in the office, I decorated her body with the marks that adorned my own as well.

It took some time, and some continued effort to soothe her skin, due to the burning of its placement. However, after such was done, she led me to her home, where we rested after the days events. – I had sealed off part of her mana’s flow, into a solid and calm state. If she can manage to sync the actions of her daily life with this calm flow, then the training from henceforth should be easy, but it is all on her in the next few days, to see if she can get accustomed to the flow of the magic in this way.

In the morning, I left her home, and headed off on my own endeavors again, leaving her to her own daily routine. I ventured to Improbable Central, took care of a few things there, and on my way to the north of Kittania, I encountered something peculiar.

I encountered a swarm of midgets in the woods, all intent on taking req, and whatever this innet was. I have no clue, they kept saying it though. And if that wasn't enough of ridiculousness, their leader was a six foot tall midget. How does that work? I suppose I shouldn't question it, everything on this island is messed up beyond reasoning. It’s infuriating really, such lack of reason; such lack of order. I felt the same thing then, and I let that frustration out on the midgets.

Green fire enveloped my hands; a force otherwise known simply as chaos or fel fire, and directed it at my foes. Grass charred away, and the stink of Midget flesh burning rose into the sky. More midgets kept coming out of nowhere, charging at me in a seemingly endless stream, which served only to build piles of bodies higher and higher. In the end, however, the six foot tall “midget” began to radiate with a green aura similar to my own fel aura. I peered at him curiously, as that aura rose higher and higher into the air.

I did not know what he was up to, but I decided to not take any chances, and began hurling chaos bolts at him. The aura seemed to function as a shield at first, as those chaos bolts simply ricocheted off, and hurtled off into random directions. I got angry, of course, and began putting more power behind it. As I did so, the tattoos on my body began to glow, and radiate through my clothing. Purple scales began forming over my skin, along my arms at first, which began tearing my robes away as they formed along my legs and waist next. Soon, scaly wings formed from my back, proving to be the last straw in tearing my robes away. As always happened in these cases (one measure of comfort apart from everything else) my body began to glow with an added shadowy aura, empowering my chaos bolts. The “midget” began to lose his visage, changing into that of a large metallic object. It would seem that this Improbability Drive, this Horatio that everyone spoke of, pulled the wool over my eyes.

Within a matter of moments, however, I had reduced the metal object to nothing but a twisted mass of broken, burnt, and melted metal. Thinking myself victorious, I went towards the object, to see if there was anything I could learn from inspecting it. Perhaps there would be some salvageable fragments of it that I could use in study. Once I had drawn nearer however, and odd sound stirred, One I even now cannot identify, but nevertheless, its mass exploded, and I blacked out.

The familiar sound of clinking glass, dull thrum of chatter, and of course, the lewd sounds from other rooms. Yes, Dorian was at Modi's Bar again. He sat there, an arm over the counter, a glass in his other hand, drinking at the Stonesoul. He had drunk so much of it, in the short time following his hearing of it, that he was already building up a tolerance.

"Tsk tsk, Dorian. I told you she didn't care about you. She wanted to be shared, between you and a wolf. Not a wolfmorph, a full blown wolf... She doesn't care."

"Perhaps not..." he muttered softly, yet too loudly to really be considered to himself. Those at the bar around him, gave him odd looks, since no one they heard, had been talking to him.

Not so long ago, she told him she needed to go away for a few days and take care of something. She came back, letting him know finally what it was that had happened. She gave him a bottle that would magically refill Stonesouls, four per day... He used it with shameless abandon. He feared she wouldn't return. When she had, he was so happy! Then...

"That other man left. Surely you must see there was a reason. Clearly this is not the sort of woman to settle down with. Not that you could find or deserve a trustworthy woman anyway."

Dorian snarled, grasping his empty glass, and throwing it to the wall. "Shut up!" he bellowed. More cautious stares. The bartender stepped over.

"I think you've had enough sir."

Dorian fixed Yuri with a glare, a heated glare that literally burned with the fire within him. Yuri slowly slipped away...

"Perhaps you're ready to start living life by my standards again? Perhaps you're ready to shut out all thought that people will ever treat you well. Accept it. I'm the only one who cares about you. Everyone else will lie and use you."

After that shocking news from Fish, Dorian stormed off into the Jungle. He.. he told her he loved her! How... could she suggest such a thing after such a revelation? How could she think he would ok with something like that? He wound up running into Horatio again... When he saw the drive, he could only think one thing...

"Perfect." A wide grin, vicious and mischievous, over took his face. "Someone to take the frustration out on..."

The surrounding forest was charred to ash, the drive was reduced to smoldering heaps of melting metal. Dorian laid in the grass, staring up into the sky, and before he lost consciousness, he could only think of one thing.

"Why...?"