[?MODERATED? - this memory is lightly moderated] [CRITERIA: solve the puzzle / figure out how to get the linchpin]
The light flickers and buzzes when it’s flipped on, revealing a narrow, windowless room. It’s little more than a closet, magically expanded but still cramped and stuffed with boxes and books, out of season clothes and a filing cabinet in the corner. Everything is coated with something that looks like soot, and the little room smells faintly of mildew.
There’s a sound at the door, a curious mrrrrp from a grey and black tabby, darting through the memory holder’s legs to enter this forbidden room.
“Sirloin! Stop! Get out of here!” a young, exasperated Lir Liu shouts at the cat and tries to wave her off, but Sirloin doesn’t listen. She hops up on the filing cabinet and surveys the room, looking for somewhere even higher from which to observe her new domain. Lir sighs. “Why do you have to make everything so hard?”
Sirloin the cat doesn’t respond, and he doesn’t expect her to. It’s all part of her mission to make everything incredibly difficult. Whatever. Lir leaves her be as he drags a big plastic tote off a wall shelf. A cloud of soot and dust kicks up when it thuds to the ground.
Lir grabs for a heavy flannel coat, swinging on a wire hanger, and there’s a twist in his chest that’s hard to place before he buries it again. This coat doesn’t smell like mildew. It smells like something else — someone else. He slips it off the hanger and pops open the tote.
Mrrrrrrep. There’s Sirloin again, throwing herself off the filing cabinet to be an inconvenience to humans again. As Lir folds the coat, carefully, like he’s afraid of it dissolving if he’s too rough with it, Sirloin hops in the tote and curls up inside.
“SIR!” he shouts, not angry but something else, sharp emotions tearing through his words. “This isn’t your room and if you keep trying to lay on everything you’re gonna get rid of his SMELL and—”
The light flickers again, the buzzing growing into a drone. Something pops. It all goes dark, and it all goes still.
“Noooooo no no no please doooon’t,” Lir begs with the lightbulb as glass litters the floor and the open tote. But lightbulbs listen about as well as cats, and this one is already busted. “Dad never even told me where the new bulbs are.”
Sirloin meeps in the darkness, but Lir ignores her. He sinks to the floor, arms wrapped around that flannel overcoat and buried in a scent unknown to the watchers, but painfully familiar to Lir.
It’s hard to say how long he sits there in the dark closet. Time goes a little funny; it seems to slip all around Lir without his participation until he hears someone whistling, and there’s a knock on the door.
He doesn’t answer. The door creaks open anyway, sending a sliver of light into the room.
“Hell yeah, cleaning in the light is fuckin’ overrated.” Lir glances up. Wybie Youngblood stands on the other side of the door, leaning heavily on a metal crutch. There’s a crooked grin on his face that eases Lir’s twisted stomach just that much. “Yer mama’s callin’ for ya. I can finish this shit up for y’all no prob.”
“No!” Lir blurts out, surprising even himself. “No, no, I can—I want to finish that.” Wybie reaches a hand out to help Lir to his feet, and Lir nearly yanks him down to the ground by accident. “I don’t know where the new lightbulbs are though.”
“I gotcha, bud,” Wybie answers, and Sirloin the cat dives through the crack in the door to wander under his crutch. Like a fuckin’ cat. “But it’s gonna be a blacklight, and I got some bitchin’ ass posters to donate to that cause.” Lir doesn’t say anything. He just smiles as he exits, stumbling over Sirloin along the way.
The door hangs open, leading the kids straight back to the school. Just don’t step on the cat.
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peckenpaugh2020-06-01 11:18 am
MEMORY: Flicker
[CRITERIA: solve the puzzle / figure out how to get the linchpin]
The light flickers and buzzes when it’s flipped on, revealing a narrow, windowless room. It’s little more than a closet, magically expanded but still cramped and stuffed with boxes and books, out of season clothes and a filing cabinet in the corner. Everything is coated with something that looks like soot, and the little room smells faintly of mildew.
There’s a sound at the door, a curious mrrrrp from a grey and black tabby, darting through the memory holder’s legs to enter this forbidden room.
“Sirloin! Stop! Get out of here!” a young, exasperated Lir Liu shouts at the cat and tries to wave her off, but Sirloin doesn’t listen. She hops up on the filing cabinet and surveys the room, looking for somewhere even higher from which to observe her new domain. Lir sighs. “Why do you have to make everything so hard?”
Sirloin the cat doesn’t respond, and he doesn’t expect her to. It’s all part of her mission to make everything incredibly difficult. Whatever. Lir leaves her be as he drags a big plastic tote off a wall shelf. A cloud of soot and dust kicks up when it thuds to the ground.
Lir grabs for a heavy flannel coat, swinging on a wire hanger, and there’s a twist in his chest that’s hard to place before he buries it again. This coat doesn’t smell like mildew. It smells like something else — someone else. He slips it off the hanger and pops open the tote.
Mrrrrrrep. There’s Sirloin again, throwing herself off the filing cabinet to be an inconvenience to humans again. As Lir folds the coat, carefully, like he’s afraid of it dissolving if he’s too rough with it, Sirloin hops in the tote and curls up inside.
“SIR!” he shouts, not angry but something else, sharp emotions tearing through his words. “This isn’t your room and if you keep trying to lay on everything you’re gonna get rid of his SMELL and—”
The light flickers again, the buzzing growing into a drone. Something pops. It all goes dark, and it all goes still.
MEMORY: Flicker
MEMORY: Flicker
Sirloin meeps in the darkness, but Lir ignores her. He sinks to the floor, arms wrapped around that flannel overcoat and buried in a scent unknown to the watchers, but painfully familiar to Lir.
It’s hard to say how long he sits there in the dark closet. Time goes a little funny; it seems to slip all around Lir without his participation until he hears someone whistling, and there’s a knock on the door.
He doesn’t answer. The door creaks open anyway, sending a sliver of light into the room.
“Hell yeah, cleaning in the light is fuckin’ overrated.” Lir glances up. Wybie Youngblood stands on the other side of the door, leaning heavily on a metal crutch. There’s a crooked grin on his face that eases Lir’s twisted stomach just that much. “Yer mama’s callin’ for ya. I can finish this shit up for y’all no prob.”
“No!” Lir blurts out, surprising even himself. “No, no, I can—I want to finish that.” Wybie reaches a hand out to help Lir to his feet, and Lir nearly yanks him down to the ground by accident. “I don’t know where the new lightbulbs are though.”
“I gotcha, bud,” Wybie answers, and Sirloin the cat dives through the crack in the door to wander under his crutch. Like a fuckin’ cat. “But it’s gonna be a blacklight, and I got some bitchin’ ass posters to donate to that cause.” Lir doesn’t say anything. He just smiles as he exits, stumbling over Sirloin along the way.
The door hangs open, leading the kids straight back to the school. Just don’t step on the cat.