A story about the story. · 5:23pm May 13th, 2014
The chapter writhed on the keyboard, trilling as Airstream’s fingers danced across it, knitting it together and stretching meat and skin over the bare bones of the story, heart laboring harshly as the wretched thing gasped for breath.
The author’s fingers halted. A scowl spread across his face. The chapter was there, alright, it just seemed…wrong. Like it would surely collapse under its own weight the minute it tried to stand on its own.
“Another weak one…” Ryeblok hissed, staring over his shoulder. “You’ve been making a lot of those recently.”
Airstream waved a hand, and the barely-born chapter disappeared in a rush of flame, squealing once before it was completely gone, nothing more than a smudge of ashy, wasted potential. His fingers, nimble still, began to spin again. The bones of what he was trying to create appeared once more, and with a flourish and a rush of description, the heart of the chapter began to take shape once more, the beat slightly different, the tone perhaps a bit gentler.
“You know,” Airstream said, his voice tired and amused all at once, “I do believe this is the most trouble you’ve given me with one of these, Blok. You and I have worked together more than once, but I can’t recall you hanging around for this long before.” His voice grew colder, more stern. “One might say that you are overstaying your welcome.”
The demon’s claws sunk into his shoulder. “Perhaps,” it breathed menacingly, “But you are the only one who can banish me. And you choose instead to spend your days worrying over this wretched thing.”
Ryeblok had a point, Airstream mused to himself. It was early yet, but he could already tell that this chapter was going to end poorly as well. And a poor chapter weakened the story as a whole.
He looked to the pen where this most recent story was being kept. Stormsinger lay content, perhaps a bit concerned that it had not been asked to perform in some time, but keeping a wary eye open and the other drooping shut. It was one of his better creations, the author mused. Some new and interesting techniques had been applied, and he was quite pleased with the result. His gaze fell on the chapter, his contented expression twisting into frustration as he dispelled this latest abomination.
“A pity,” Ryeblok said. “I liked that one.”
“If I didn’t know you better,” Airstream said absently, resting his hands, “I’d believe you.”
“Perhaps what the author needs is a bit of a break?” Ryeblok suggested. “Perhaps he should visit other things? Some of your other children are awaiting your tender care.”
Airstream cast a wary eye at a shadowy corner of his workspace, wherein was contained a wilted lotus flower and a dilapidated cart with faded paint.
“Or perhaps he would care to start something new? The last time that happened, you were quite successful, as I recall.”
Airstream shuddered, reminded of the…thing…he had put away in another room. It was deceptively cute, with its little beeps and squeals, and its cries of “Set phasers to hug!” and “The fun levels shall be at maximum efficiency!”, but beneath that lay a cold, dead heart, and not just because it was about a robot. The fact that it was one of his most beloved creations frightened even him.
“Thank you for your input, Ryeblok,” he said, “But I really do think the best thing here would be to soldier on with my work.”
Ryeblok shrugged sinuously. “Then I shall remain,” it said, “And your work shall suffer for my presence, unless you gather the nerve to banish me on your own.”
“Annoyance,” Airstream mumbled, but it was unclear whether he spoke of the demon itself, the process of removing it, or the chapter which moved anew under his hands.
He noticed the magic flowed less smoothly, now. Perhaps it was time he did something about that. Ryeblok was a pernicious creature at the best of times, but it occasionally provided good advice, if you could see it. Perhaps it was time he did something different, but not in the same way as his usual differences.
A trip might be in order, he mused. There was the wedding, he had been invited to attend and it had been a long while since he’d seen his native lands without needing to observe any religious rituals. The journey back home might be just the thing he needed. Most of his tools would need to stay behind, his keyboard and such. But he could take his scribing tablet, at least.
Then there was the fact that he had not visited the source of his power in a long while. Its new flow had stopped only last week, but he had not visited in nearly six weeks. The Harmonious Six were forgiving souls, but he needed to draw his power from them regularly, and it showed that he had not. Maybe both a trip home and a supplication to the Six were needed.
Flame flashed from his desk as the author banished the next chapter with extreme prejudice.
“Ryeblok,” he announced, “Remain here. I’m going out.”
The thing blinked, coiling in the air as if unsure of how to support itself. “And when will you be back?” it burbled.
“Eventually,” Airstream said. “No more than a week. And I’d advise you to be gone when I get back, else I’m kicking your arse up between your ears.” He grabbed his traveling hat and staff from near the door.
“And Ryblok?” he asked, pausing at the door.
“Yes?”
The author smiled. “Thank you.”
The wooden portal shut with a thud, leaving the tower in silence. Ryeblok stood there for a brief while, staring at it, before a slow smile curled upon its face, and it settled in to wait for its bitterest rival and oldest friend to return.
Ryeblok and I go way back, back to my first ever story about airships and other terrible things. Nosy bastard ate that one, too.
Sorry for the delay, my unwelcome houseguest has been monopolizing my time and preventing me from writing effectively. I'm working on getting him gone, but he's always been the persistent sort.
I'm headed home for a wedding (joy) and will be returning back here on Sunday, at which point I intend to catch up on the show in the hopes that it will restore my inspiration and allow me to finally give old Ryeblok the boot.
Expect the new chapter a week from now if everything goes well. If not...well, expect it a week from now, and then we'll see what happens.
The reference to Minuette made me chuckle.
Still bent out of shape about that?
2108460
Just a wee bit.
I can definitely say the finale is highly inspiring, Airstream, and I hope it does the same for you. I've already written quite a few words in response, and I tend to struggle a lot with your little demon friend, myself.