In which Tock tries one last desperate attempt to save Mikey's life...
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Center of scholarly knowledge and shipwrighting, Zeltiva is a port city unlike any other in Mizahar. [Lore]
Animals. A child had to understand animals. Puppies. Kittens. Playing with a neighbor's pet. The whiskers, the fur, the paws with their claws. Have to be gentle, or the kitten might scratch you. A lesson hard learned, the little boy crying from the tiny scratch. Mother explaining how the kitten didn't mean it. Don't be upset. Don't blame the kitten. Just be gentle. Make friends. There you go. The kitten likes you.
Chased down by a big dog. Falling. Skinning his knee. Carried home in Mother's arms. Warm hugs to stop the tears. Hugging Tock to comfort her tears. It'll be okay. Don't be upset. Don't blame yourself. Be friends. Promise you'll come tomorrow. Promise. Promise. Promise...
So many things to teach, but the day was getting late. She had barely begun. She couldn't think, what was the most important to start. Toys. No, outdoors. Grass. How it felt. How it grew. Flowers. Different color flowers. Different scents. Some that grew tall, some little tiny ones, some on bushes with thorns. Memories of childhood days, scattered glimpses of running through a field, scooping up a little white puffball and blowing the seeds into the wind. Planting a seed into the ground. Watching it grow, its so slow, why isn't it there yet all I see is dirt. It's only been a day, dear. Give it time.
Time. How to explain time, when it was running out. Her head ached from the strain. Trying to concentrate. She had to stop, had to rest. Clear her head. She ended the transfers, barely aware of how late it was. Had she been working all day? Had she eaten? She had stopped when Mikey needed to be fed, but she couldn't remember eating anything herself.
She stepped out of the room, only long enough to find food. Someone, one the nurses, had left her a plate by the door. She took it inside, and ate while watching Mikey sleep. Her mind was fried, thoughts spinning as she tried to plan the next stage. She should have thought of this sooner. Planned it. Written it out. Worked out the steps, one by one. Done them in order.
She could barely force any food down. A few more hours... she could work a few more hours. Then she'd sleep, and hope to dream.
The 84th day of summer. Before sunrise. She hadn't slept. Not really. A few hours of restlessness, eyes closed but never completely drifting off. Straight back to work. So much more to teach him. Clothes. The softness of cloth. The warmth. The comfort. A shirt goes on your chest, arms and head through the holes. Pants on the legs, one leg at a time. Socks on the feet, over tiny little toes. Ten toes... no, she'd do counting later. Shoes over socks, the left and the right. Such hard concepts to teach, left versus right. The shape of one's hands, which side the thumb was on. The shapes of one's feet, big toes to the inside. The curved part of the shoe, to fit the curve of your foot, have to put it on the right foot. No, not right, correct, words have more than one meaning.
A coat in the winter to keep warm. Have to teach warm, cool, hot, cold. So much... so much...
The nurse came with breakfast. Where had the hours gone? Broth for Mikey, porridge for Tock, though hers would barely be touched.
What else... what else... what should come first? Bodies. Eyes to see with. Ears to hear. A nose to smell and hands to touch. A mouth to eat and taste and talk, and to lay gentle kisses on your forehead. Arms to hug you, hold you tight. Legs to walk you home at night.
Skin and hair, all in different colors. From Mikey's soft brown hair, to Tock's bright and brilliant red. Glimpses of people in all shapes and sizes. The difference between a boy and a girl, a child and an adult. Images of growth, showing how a child would one day be grown. What do you want to be when you grow up?
Before she realized it, night was approaching. Night and day, those were important. What tomorrow is, the time after you sleep and wake. What sleep is... except, no, she had programmed him not to sleep. The sun, then. The moon. The way they passed through the sky. Sunrise, noon, sunset. The darkness comes, the moon up high. Tomorrow is when the sun returns.
Promise you'll come see me tomorrow?
I promise...
The concepts were so hard to program, so hard to explain, and she was so tired... She stopped and fed Mikey dinner, then fell asleep next to him, cradling his motionless body in her arms. Her tears stained his cheeks. "Just a little longer," she whispered. How long would it take? She was barely started. So many things hadn't even been begun yet.
It was dark when she woke. The middle of the night. She checked him... still breathing. Still living, holding on for another day. Back to work.
What next? Numbers... no, reading was more important. He had to be able to study, to learn. But she needed to teach him more words first. He couldn't learn to read unless he knew the words.
She talked to him more, trying to cement together what she had programmed already. She told him stories about her travels, sitting there, guiding the Djed, letting her words prompt the flow of his own memories. She told him about her Granddad, and brought with it memories of his own. Family. Family was important. A mother and a father, brothers and sisters. Memories of him asking his mother to make him a little brother, of wanting his friend down the street to be a brother to him. Family is someone who loves you.
Exhaustion overcame her, and she had to stop. She had worked through most of the night. Morning was approaching.
They ate breakfast together. Tock forcing the broth down the little boy's throat. Choking down her own meal. How many days had she been working? She hadn't been home. Hadn't bathed. Hadn't seen her friends. It didn't matter... this was more important.
Throughout the morning she continued her work. She taught him about playing. Memories of Mikey and his friends, playing tag in the streets. Swimming down at the Zeltivan beaches. Tock didn't know how to swim, but the boy did, and she watched his memories of it flow across the astral space, filling the tiny puppet. So many happy memories from his childhood. Running along the beach. Splashing. Building same castles.
He'd had a happy childhood, she realized. So unlike hers. He'd known friends, and family. He'd known joy and love. Before the storm took his parents. Before this plague took his health. He had been a happy child. A good child. A...
Tock felt a shift in the Djed flow. She opened her eyes, and looked up at Mikey. There was no change. She sighed, and returned her attention to her work. It was almost lunchtime. Almost... but she could work a little longer. Teach him a few more concepts. Channel some more of these happy memories into the puppet.
The Djed stream flickered. Her heart skipped a beat.
"No..."
The energy flow was fading. Wavering. She wasn't done yet. There was no astral body. The puppet couldn't move yet.
"...no..."
She refocused her concentration, pushing the Djed harder... faster... she had to do this... she had to finish!
"NO!"
The doctor rushed in. The Djed flow was becoming erratic. He rushed over to the boy, his foot scraping through the chalk outline.
I promise...
The puppet grew dark. Tock clenched her fists, trying to find the soul energy. Empty. Blank space.
"NOOO!"
They were holding her back. She couldn't remember getting up. The doctor had a black eye. Had she done that? They wouldn't let her go to Mikey... they wouldn't...
"Tock," one of the nurses was saying, "it's too late. There's nothing else you can do..."
Tock lifted the tiny, incomplete puppet into her arms.
It was limp. Lifeless. She focused Djed through her eyes, concentrating hard on it. Channeling the power to read the puppet's aura.
It was faint. Grey. But it pulsed with the faintest glimmer of life. Incomplete. But there. A tiny little soul. She didn't know how much had transferred. Somewhere, deep down, a voice inside tried to tell her that Mikey wasn't in there. That it was nothing more than a flawed copy. A broken Automaton, little more than a Soulcore and a corrupted persona.
Her mind was blank and dull, and she didn't hear that voice. She just saw a tiny soul in front of her. She reached out and traced her fingers through the air, around the outline of the aura. It was him, she told herself. It had to be. And she could fix him. Make him whole. Complete. And he'd be exactly the little boy she knew.
She raised the puppet to her lips and kissed its tiny wooden forehead. She whispered, "Mommy's gonna take care of you..."
OOC :
To be continued...
The Dira puppet, despite Tock's best hopes, now contains only an incomplete, corrupted copy of Mikey's memories.
Lore: Doctor's Words: The Need To Let Go Desperate Measures A Doll Like Mikey Memories of Mikey How to Feed an Unconscious Person Mikey's Death An Incomplete Puppet
Items or Consequences: As you noted, the Dira puppet now contains only an incomplete, corrupted copy of Mikey's memories.
Notes: The medicine XP was for learning how to feed an unconscious person.
Woah. Powerful thread. It was so intense, and Tock's desperation could be felt from where I was sitting. If you have any questions or concerns, feel free to PM me!
by Minerva Agatha Zipporah on August 12th, 2012, 8:19 pm 
