*ahem* A character study. Out of order since I haven’t written the pilot yet, but what’s that really matter?
Dim Corundum - A Trancehall Scene
There were plenty of things Tyler’d already consigned himself to, working at this weird theater of sorts. He was going to have to meet lots of people and punch their tickets and count the profits versus the expenses…the problem was by no means the doing of the work.
It was how utterly boring this setup was.
“I sold house for some excitement, and what do I get? A bloody coffee addiction!” Thought the young Brit as he swallowed the rest of today’s 5th mug. Already, the headaches were setting in…
Tyler mused, “Really is a blessing and a curse, innit?” Before turning to make sure no one was within earshot. He had a sneaking suspicion that—hm. Yes, better to keep it silent, just in case the boss was listening.
Mystichite, as Trancehall’s founder preferred to be called when on the clock, had a habit of coming into rooms and picking up conversations that he couldn’t have possibly been listening to. It annoyed Tyler as much as it did the other workers, but the guy seemed more sinister than a mere eavesdropper.
Sapphire…as Mystichite insisted on calling Tyler when on the clock…smelled foul play. It had the odor of Bovril, for some reason.
“Now, what is that stuff made of?”
“JESUS, MARY AND JOSEPH!” Tyler leapt in response to Misty’s sudden presence (everyone called him Misty since it had fewer syllables and was easier to yell). “Ahem. ‘Ello, Mystichite.”
“Please.” The taller man smoothed out his mustache, unbothered. “Call me Malachi right now, seeing as you’re still on lunch break.”
Lunch break? And Sapphire…er, Tyler…was still topping off his brew? Had he really been so engrossed in the ticker tape as to lose track of time?
The shorter man shrugged it off and returned to the conversation, his accent now a little thicker as he searched for his behind-the-ticket-booth Keurig. “What’s what made of, boss?”
Checking that his cape was free of dirt, Malachi replied casually, “Bovril. I’ve always been curious.”
His words were a shock to Tyler’s system. “You…n-no one said anything about Bovril.”
Malachi stopped suddenly, covering his mouth and coming closer. “Well, I was thinking of it earlier, you see—“
“NO!” The Briton backed up, knocking the miniature calendar off the desk. The Keurig now forgotten, he launched into a tirade: “You never tell us what we really do here. All you say is, we’re ‘entertaining’ some poor sods, but that could mean anything! You…you read our minds, don’t you?”
Malachi stood, frozen. There were a couple of choices he had…and the best one, he decided, was honesty.
Subtle honesty, that is.
“Look at your name tag.” He intoned, his voice low.
Tyler looked down…the hunk of plastic could hardly be called a “name” tag. All it had on it was a drawing of a blue gem, a “sapphire” reference that didn’t actually mean anything for his identity…
…right?
Tyler gave a brief, confused look into the larger man’s eyes…and suddenly, the tag changed. It did read “Tyler”. “Tyler Atherton”, clear as day. But, that was only something he could see in the reflection of his employer’s gaze…
“What are you doing…?”
“Trying to remind you that you belong here, Sapphire.” Malachi responded, slowly. It was like he was trying to get the idea to bleed its way into Tyler’s…Sapphire’s?…head.
“Stoppit.” The young Brit choked. “W-whatever you’re doing. Stop.”
Malachi was unrelenting. The gentleness was what really made it, for some reason. “You’re going to be ok. I’m not trying to hurt you…just, wanting to check in.”
“What’s my name??” The British kid practically yelped in response. The two terms were bleeding together and hurting horribly in his mental faculties. Who was he, again?
Malachi took his cape and briefly covered his eyes with it, returning the conversation to an apparent state of normalcy. “Start over.” He said numbly. This wasn’t going as he planned. “I can hypnotize people. I’ve done it to you before, but there’s a non-zero chance you’ve forgotten.”
“NON-ZERO????”
“SLEEP ALREADY!”
And in the panic, Ty…*ahem* Sapphire…slipped into a drowsy mess.
“Oh, no, no, no, no!” Mystichite cursed himself under his breath, letting his employee slip to the floor out of fear of touching him. “Sapphire. Sapphire, wake up, I didn’t mean—“
But the damage was done. The young man floated there, lost in a haze. His eyes were foggy and a little greener than usual, and as far as he was concerned, he was entirely alone.
“Ugh…five more minutes, Mum…” was the only response that Misty received. The lunch break would be over any minute, and performances would begin again…how to fix this?
Misty took a deep breath and leaned over the blitzed Sapphire. “Look into my eyes.” He commanded, his voice firm but not overly loud. Those sleepy eyes locked onto his glowing ones. “The last dream you had…can you recall it?”
“…Duckies.” Sapphire hummed in response. “Got some ducks. Coupla eagles.”
Misty rubbed his chin, toying with his mustache for a brief moment. “So, your passion is birds, then.”
“Mmm…went watchin’ once or twice over the pond.” He chuckled, “It was fun…zzz…”
“No, no, no falling asleep, Sapphire.” Still refusing to touch him, Misty made a surprisingly accurate dove sound. He was fairly good at that from his brief stints as a stage magician.
“Mm? Dove? Where’s the dove…” Sapphire sat up, shaking from his daze just long enough to have a useful suggestion inserted.
“At the sound of the bell, you will return to yourself.” Malachi hummed perfectly, with the ringing right after he finished his sentence. Lunch break over, and crisis averted.
“Ugh…hey, did you see a bird ‘round here, some spot…?” Tyler huffed as he found himself on the floor in a place that was very much not for bird watching. “Collared dove, shoulda been…”
Malachi grinned. “That’s your imagination, Sapphire.” Then stood up and walked away.
With a raise of his eyebrow, Tyler pieced it together…his boss was definitely mentally messing with everyone.
…But. It didn’t seem as bad as it did 5 minutes ago. “Eh, boss?”
Malachi turned back, “Yes?”
“Care to go bird-watchin’ with me sometime?”
Mystichite’s response was straight to the point, and hid a happiness he’d been waiting to truly let fly. “I’d love that…Tyler.”
@totally-tranced @fmajorenthusiast