thewordofweb: (here's looking at you kid: by ?)
[personal profile] thewordofweb
I awoke this morning in the strangest of moods and positions. I really should never have expected to find my voice stolen, as if I had been cast in the role of the poor lost boy to an evil witch's plan. At first, it had been nothing, but as the day grows on, I grow lonely and still silent, not liking how it's begun to drive me mad. Instead of lingering around people, I've taken all my things to the dock and have begun to arrange fishing lures in order to have a good night at sea.

I won't panic. At least, not yet. This place has such a habit of doing things beyond the pale of normal that I need to wait it out. I'm not a girl, Joe's not acting strange. I can handle my voice being thieved from me for a small amount of time. That, I can do.

Date: 2010-04-08 03:00 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
As if to contradict his silence and add insult to injury, Trisha came trotting down the path as she sang at the top of her lungs, breathy but loud all the same.

"Way down yonder and not far off, a blue jay died of a whooping cough. He whooped and he whooped and he whooped so hard, he whooped is head and tail right off," Trisha sang, paused when she saw him looking her way, and grinned before she finished the line, "Second verse, same as the first, but a little bit louder and a little bit worse!" She grinned at him again, waiting, hoping that he'll join her call and response.

Date: 2010-04-08 05:58 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
I glance over in Trisha's direction and can't help a smile at her energy and her sheer innocent and youth, point to my throat with a shrug and a hapless expression on my face. Because I'm still me, I've got enough books at my disposal and I scratch one hand over my beard before leaning over to write, I CAN'T TALK in large black marker on the back of one of the books.

Date: 2010-04-08 07:15 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Her smile faltered a little as the pause extended, leaving her a little confused at first, but she caught on quickly and forgetting all about the song, she watched as he defaced on of his books for the sake of her comprehension. It was hardly necessary, but the whole pantomime had her smiling again. Lifting her eyebrows she asked, "Sick?" almost whispering it like she couldn't talk either. Pete had laryngitis once. Maybe it was that.

Date: 2010-04-08 09:47 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
I shake my head in the negative because if this is an illness, it's about the strangest one that I've ever heard or read about. After all, it's really not like this can be explained. There are no sounds whatsoever coming out of me, almost like everything has been stolen away.

I crouch down to rip out a back page of the book and write: Thieves took my voice on it, handing it out to her and smiling playfully as I await the reaction.

Date: 2010-04-13 01:20 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
She read it and looked up from the paper, a small unsure smile tugging at her mouth. "Thieves?" she asked, uncertain as to whether they were playing a new game or if he was serious. "How can they do that? We'll have to get it back," she announced, handed him back the paper so that he could respond, and crouched down.

Date: 2010-04-13 10:57 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
I nod very seriously, as though I've been terribly denied the power of speech all because of dastardly thieves in black stealing away in the middle of the night to take away what's precious to me. I shrug as I take back the paper, an exaggerated show of cluelessness to show her that I have no idea in the world what to do to get it back.

Date: 2010-04-14 08:46 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Gazing back at him, that look still fixed on her face, half believing him, half sure that it's a game. She rocked on the balls of her feet, hugging her knees. "So," she said finally, "Who are the thieves?" she asked and then grinned. "Fairies? Trolls?"

Date: 2010-04-15 12:35 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Fairies does sound like the more interesting plotline, if only because there aren't exactly any bridges around to hide under. I point to the boat to coax her to come along and then mime fishing to show her what I plan to do. Then, I mouth 'Fairies' to continue our story.

Date: 2010-04-17 04:16 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
"Oh okay," she said as if that explained it. Trisha stood and shrugged her pack, mostly empty today, back onto her back and followed him onto the boat. They'd been out often enough together that she knew where he needed her to be and what he needed her to do, but she wondered if he'd forget he wasn't speaking and try issuing her an order. "Ready to cast off, Captain?" she asked.

Date: 2010-04-17 10:50 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
I nod, glancing around to ensure that I've got all the equipment and the food I need for the both of us on this little voyage. I point to the knots on the dock and mouth 'ropes', hoping that she understands what I mean. This would help much more if I could just tap out my words in morse code, but I have no way to know if she'd ever understand me.

Date: 2010-04-17 11:11 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Trisha looked to the ropes, looked back at him, and made a circle with her thumb and forefinger, then turned to help as he'd asked her to, struggling to loosen them at first, but getting them all released eventually before she hopped back onto the boat.

Turning back to Web she asked, "What can I do next?"

Date: 2010-04-17 11:39 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
As soon as she's back on the boat, I find my notebook and write down instructions for her to sit down and enjoy the ride. As an almost afterthought, my hand continues to write, almost like it can't exactly help itself: What do you think Joe would think of this?

Date: 2010-04-18 12:38 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Taking the note from him she looked it over, momentarily disappointed that he wasn't going to have her help more, she sat out of the way and considered his question.

After a minute she said, "This is weird, Web."

She seemed to realize that she might mean what Joe would have said and not that answering a question aloud that he'd written down was weird. "What would Joe think of you not talking?"

Date: 2010-04-18 07:16 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
I nod at that, even if my thoughts are already propelling me swiftly away to a melancholy that seems to descend all-too-easily when I think of Joe. I turn my thoughts to progress as I start up the motor to get us far out enough to use the sails, easing to the side to scribble, Sails ready? just to make sure we're properly prepared by the time we hit the open waves.

Date: 2010-04-19 04:48 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
What would Joe think? It's the fucked up island, Little Bit came the answer immediately in her head in Joe's voice, and she knew that was the truth. "He'd blame it on the island," she said, "And then maybe he'd tell you not to worry about it?" she suggested hopefully.

Date: 2010-04-19 05:03 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
That gets a quiet (silent, obviously, because I can't exactly do otherwise) laugh from me and a rueful smile, upset though I have no right to be. I miss Joe trying to get me not to worry. Hell, I just miss Joe. You can make sure I don't worry, is what I write busily in between preparing the sails.

Date: 2010-05-04 02:16 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
She looked at him with a sad little expression on her face. But you always worry, Web, she thought. "I'll try if you will," she said instead, favoring him with a sunny smile. "Deal?" she asked.

Date: 2010-05-08 01:37 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
I nod, sticking out my hand to make sure she knows just how serious I am about making this deal with her. Deal, I mouth, and without even waiting, pull her close into a hug to solidify my promise.


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