Thread: Obsession

Yes! I am replying! Great work! I'd suggest longer chapters, but that's because I'm used to writing tome-sized ones meself.

I haven't seen the second movie yet, but I think I know of the character Jiri, and you're staying true to him, so kudos! One of the hardest things to do (and believe me, I know) when writing a fanfic that involves/revolves around characters from the animé is staying true to their original essence, and I believe that’s what you do, so bravo.

Not much else to say, really. I’m looking forward to seeing how you will tell the story from here, so don’t delay Chapter Five too long. Halloween is a little far away for my liking.

Once again, great work.


~Rocky “Whoop! There it is!” Cliffs

The problem in writing for a character like him is that we only know a tiny bit about him...the rest is up to us.

Well, you can look at it as either a good thing or a bad thing. I'd look at it as a good thing. More freedom that way, you know?


~Rocky Cliffs

I did that once with a Final Fantasy character; made up a past for him. Then I got more information about him, stuff that wasn't in the game. So far, the only thing that's been contradicted is his age *35 rather than 46 like I thought...*

Waa, mijikai desu ne...

*blink* I THINK "mijikai" means "short"...


Anyway, though it was very short, I love it as much as the other chapters ^_^ I might suggest making the chapters longer, but other than that this story's great!

*blink*

Chapter 4 WAIIIIIII!!!

You know what? I'm actually glad I wasn't about for a little bit so you could just type that out and put it up. Because you know that if I saw it, I'd go all English major and tell you to do something "literary." Although...

[English major mode?]
You did an excellent job of getting across that detachment that you'd struggled with for eons and eons. And in your hands that stream-of-consciousness is nothing short of lovely, and just right for giving it that certain feel. SO glad you decided to go with that.

*agrees with Pika-Zukin too, because she said what I wanted to say better than I said it*

So this is now where the building of the great airship starts, huh? Can't wait to see how that gets developed... I better get online one of these evenings and start helping you think it through, huh?

*return to status quo of chat impending; getting a job in and moving to Boston is starting to happen around here, which is EXCELLENT*

OOOOOoooooohhhh...very interesting...poor Jiri. T_T Can't wait for more chapters. ^^ ...I really need to work on your fanart and stop procrastinating. >_<'' *grabs clipboard and goes to work*
-Fal

Now to just get RG here more often...

I told you it would be done by Halloween. Dami, sorry I couldn't get it done in the week I promised, but you know how that goes. Anyway, next chapter by...the end of the year? How's that sound?

****

Despite my thoughts, the sound of the water was soothing, almost like the backdrop to a dream.

But I had had enough of dreams for the time being, at least the sort one has while asleep. My dreams have always been concurrent to my goals.

But I am getting ahead of myself.

I lay in bed for a few more minutes, getting my bearings. I was in Kanto, in Seafoam, at my father's home; that much I knew. I had been here only once before, but too long ago to clearly remember it.

The room was sparse, with a few cardboard boxes stacked against the wall. That was all that remained of what my life had been, just whatever could be brought along.

Only a week ago, my life was untouched. Now I may as well be adrift on the open ocean.

There were voices down the hallway, and I slid out of bed to crawl to the door--having been bedridden for the time I was left me unable to properly walk. I recognized my father's voice, as he spoke to a woman I did not know.

"--don't know, Helen. He's still asleep, so it'll have to wait." My father's voice was even and calm as always.

The woman paused. "I've never seen anything like that...What did you do with that ring of his?"

I gasped, looking around for it. What if he had forgotten it? What if it was lost in the move?

"It's on the desk. Can't have it getting lost in the covers..."

A low sigh escaped from my parted lips, and with shaking legs, I stood, leaning against the wall for support. The desk was only a few steps away by normal measure, but it took my entire focus to reach it. The ring shone, glimmering like the waves of the ocean, as I took it in my hand, clasping it to my chest and sinking to my weary knees. It was back with me now, the treasure that just a short time ago still adorned my mother's hand. My grip around it tightened, and I felt safer.


Seafoam is a small town, despite the crowds that pass through it every year. My father's home and shop were atop a cliff, which was not only necessary for his business but kept us away from the areas people congregated.

I have always valued solitude, even before that. So I was grateful for the silence, the only sounds around being from the hangar. My father was, and I would presume still is, a renowned airship engineer, attracting clientèle from the world over.

Although I did not know it, my future was being set at that very moment.


The next thing I remember was several hours later, the sound of the door opening. At first I did not notice, until I felt someone in the room with me.

"Jiri? Are you here with me now?" My father knelt down to me, resting a hand on my shoulder. "What's that in your hand?"

Reluctantly, I opened my fist, revealing the ring on my palm. In the past hours, it had left an imprint in my skin. Oddly fitting, I thought.

"Gloria's ring..." he whispered, a faint twinge of sadness in his voice. "I thought that was it..."

I tried to say something, but could not find my voice.

"Jiri," he continued, moving his hand to my face and brushing away a tear I did not know had formed. "Jiri, I'm sorry I wasn't there earlier...I wanted to be, but..."

I held up my hand, the one with the mark most evident. There was no need for him to explain.

He took me close, sighing. "Jiri, I want to hear your voice."

Again, I was unable to speak, so I merely shook my head against his chest.

"My beautiful boy..." he muttered as his hand found the back of my head. "My little angel..."

I gasped. I couldn't be an angel, no, not while mother was my angel.

"Jiri? Jiri, what's wrong?"

With a flat tone that surprised even me, I managed to whisper "...mama's gone..."

He nodded. "...yes. I'm sorry."

The ring glimmered in my hand, the light reflected from the waves outside catching it, and I mimicked his nod. "Yes," I echoed, as he picked me up and lay me back in bed.

"You should take it easy," he whispered, tucking the covers around me once more. The ring now shone from the bedside table, its ruby twinkling casting a dance on the ceiling.

I could not listen to his further words, although I was aware he continued to speak. Lying there, the light put me in a trance, and I fell asleep once again, thinking of the ocean.

I think 2-3 months is far too long to be churning out teeny little chapters like these. ^_~ Some of us work our fingers to the extreme writing 30k installments every two weeks (or at least, we used to, until we learned it's not worth it), and here we get your snippet four months later.

Aw, I'm teasing. *glomp* It's good, of course, but just seems lacking compared to the other chapters. Maybe because the poor boy's been through so much already, so now he's collecting himself (ha ha). I'm sure everyone will join me in looking forward to chapter 6.

Yeah, I think the ending is rather lacking on that one, but I couldn't think of how else to end it.

Of course, Jiri's said more in this chapter than he has in any of the others combined. Which is strange, because as we all know, later on, he talks to anything and everything. Himself, his computer, total strangers who would probably punch him were they not in a cage...

At long last! Chapter 6! And next one will be better. I hope. Now we get into the meaty bits of the fic. Actual plot this time, rather than just drifting. Tell me what you think!

***

The next few weeks passed, strangely uneventful, given my acclimation. It was most pecular, for I do not recall anything of those weeks clearly.

I know I spent a great deal of time in my room, looking out the window. Seafoam is a pleasant enough town for others, but for me it was like being in another world.

But the sky...the sky was the same, and it brought comfort. The sky would be always as it was at home. And it was safe, as home had been, as the wings of the white bird had been.

I would see it again, where the sky met the ocean. But that day would be a long way off, and I still had much to happen in my life.


One thing I know only from the stories of my father and his assistant Helen was that I would do things that startled the both of them greatly. I have no memory of this incident, but he would tell me that I insisted on drawing angels. I do not doubt him, as I dreamed of angels and white wings nearly every night.

After a particularly disturbing day, to hear him tell it, wherein I had locked myself in my room and covered every inch of paper with images of angels, he decided something had to change.

Hoping to play on my artistic nature, he began taking me to his workshop. He would show me sketches and models of the ships he was constructing, and how they were made. I took to them quickly; it seems I was eager for an outlet.

This part I remember with considerably more clarity than the weeks before it.

Most of the patrons came to know me by name, but did not pay me much mind. But I learned to read people from my dealings with them. I could tell much about a person from the things I saw. Most people were the idle rich, those wishing to show off their wealth with a custom-made token from the famous airship engineer Corbin.

But one man stood out from the rest. He had a regal bearing, and an air of eternal calm, as though he knew how to take exactly what he wanted from life. He would smile kindly at me during his conversations with my father and the other engineers, but we had never spoken until one day.

Had that day never come, I cannot imagine where fate would have taken me.

Father had set up a station for me to work on my drawings, and I had an idea for that day's project. I would sketch my Ancient Mew card; see if I could capture its essence on paper.

I had barely gotten set up when I heard a sharp gasp from behind me. The regal man was there, wide green eyes fixated on the card. "M...my boy!" he stammered. "Wherever did you get that card?"

I looked at it, then at him. "My mother gave it to me," I said simply as I returned to the picture.

"I see...You know, it's not often that you see one of those, much less in the hands of one as young as you."

"Not often," I repeated, only to find his extended hand between me and the paper.

"My name is Asaph," he introduced.

"Jirarudan." I shook his hand firmly and tried to turn my attention back to the picture.

"Do you think I...could get a closer look?" That calm of his was rapidly fading, so I nodded.

"Be careful with it," I added, very close to my mother's own tone when she had issued such a warning to me.

He turned the thin card over in his hands, the gold sheet and gemstones glinting in the half-light. "Incredible. Do you know where she got this?"

"From her parents, I presume." My short answers sufficed for most people, but I could tell Asaph wanted to know more. "She only told me that it was a family heirloom."

A slow nod of his head. "I see..."

I started shading in a part I had already drawn. "Why do you take such interest in it?"

He set the card back next to me and drew himself up to full height, like a regal speaker about to deliver an address. "Well, my boy, I...am a Collector."

Mmm, meaty bits...

*sighs* I love Jiri's narration voice. It's so airy and... well, wangsty. Wangsty boy + angel pictures = happy Zukin.

Does he have his Mew card there for reference as he's sketching it? First I thought he was drawing it from memory, and got confused when Asaph grabbed it.

Well, 'sketch' would mean that he's drawing something he's looking at. Otherwise I'd say he was drawing it.

Yeah, I have pecular language like that.

BTW--look up what "Asaph" means. *smirk*

At long last! The fabled Ob7 is ready for press! Expect the next part in a few weeks! (YES, you read that right!)

***

A Collector... I had heard of such people before, those who lived their lives for artifacts of the ancient world. The idea had intrigued me in mention, but I had not paid it much mind past that. But now I had to know more.

"A Collector..." I repeated softly, evidently enough to cause him to duck down to my level.

"Yes..." he smiled gently, meeting my gaze.

Eye contact was intensely uncomfortable for me at that time, so I looked away, back at the card. "...what do you know of this?" I asked him, running my finger over the thin gold sheet.

His smile broadened and his eyes danced. "I'm surprised your mother hasn't told you yet."

"...mother isn't here," I whispered, but evidently he did not hear me.

"It's a remarkable relic, really. There's only been a few on the market in recent years..." He paused to clear his throat before continuing. "Many years ago, that picture was found on the wall of an ancient building, deep in the jungle. One of the explorers who found it that day made a painting of it, but found that he could not capture the brilliant gold sheen of the original. So he hired a goldsmith and a jeweler to make these cards, and gave them to everyone involved in the expedition. There were over two hundred people who took part, so the cards are just common enough that people 'discover' them in their heirlooms, and rare and fine enough that people will pay dearly for them."

I looked at him out of the corner of my eye, still focused on the card. "Mama said it was in her family for many years. She told me it was called Ancient Mew."

"Yes, yes, that's what people have taken to calling it."

He still seemed excited by his find, but was calming, so I turned to look at him again. "...Tell me more."

"...more?" His eyebrows raised elegantly. "What did you have in mind, my boy?"

I looked back at the card, running my finger down the jeweled face. "...what does the writing say?"

"Hmm..." He put his hand to his face as though lost in thought. "It's based on a game they found around the same area, but I'm really not certain what it says. I'm sure some cursory research could be done to find out, though."

For the time, that was good enough for me. I later found out, but that is neither here nor there for the continuation of my tale.


Asaph was enthralling, regaling me with tales of his own treasures, and I listened, enraptured, to every word. But then he was called away to check on some specifications for his ship, leaving me to absorb everything he had told me.

A slow smile spread across my face, although at the time I did not know why.