Reminiscence [M] [IO] [C-B]

You’re onboard the train to the island…

You’re seated in one of the four booths situated along the sides of the cart. You’re dressed nice and already enjoying yourself. The rest of the party who were invited are occupying the rest of the cart, sitting and having a few drinks, talking about what they expect to see, so on and so forth. You turn your head to gaze out the window, admiring the endless horizon over the ocean the train is riding over.

Your mind drifts to thoughts of the man who invited you hear, appreciative of the chance you’ve been given. You’re excited to see all your creations in one place, and all your fellow creators as well.

You’re very satisfied with your current situation.

Suddenly, the blank screen hung up between the two doors at the front of the cart slides down. The projector tucked into the ceiling of the cart lowers from its little alcove and aims towards the screen, a faint light emanating from its lens.

Everyone in the cart sits and watches as the screen gives way to the visage of yours truly, dressed formally and sitting at a polished desk, with hands folded together.

“Gentlemen.” I announce, as a quiet tune begins to sound from the video.

“It’s good to see you all here, in one place, with one destination ahead. I thank you all for taking the time to visit the hotel. I assure you, enjoyment is guaranteed, and you will not go away displeased. Your creations are all waiting eagerly for you to arrive, just as I am. When you do arrive, we will start with a short reunion, and then a tour of the hotel. The rest of the island is for you to discover yourselves.”

I smile and announce, “I will inform you when you are nearing the island. Until then, just enjoy yourselves. And thank you all once again for accepting my invitation.”

The screen fades to black, and is replaced with a running slideshow of different areas of the hotel and island. You are left to your own accord, just the same as everyone else.

You may now begin.

I was in a posh bar, lined with red velvet and blue carpets. Standing at the bar, i found myeself to be dressed in a charcoal black suit, a fedora on my head. I felt the cold coin in my hand before if flew up in the air, spun around a few times, and landing smartly back in my hand. A spotlight was shining down on me, all eyes were on me, my handsome self.

Another loud click echoed as another spotlight fired up a few meters away. "Holy tolito!" i heard myself say. A woman stood in the other spotlight, mid 20's, flowing black hair, gazing addictive eyes and draped in a long, shiny red dress. "Wow Rosalie so tell me..." i flicked my hair back, "...what brings you here tonight?" Rosalie didn't talk, but gave a long, cheeky smile before placing her hand upon my chest, and pushing. I only just managed to keep my balance as i took 10 odd steps back, while trying to regain my composure. I expected laughs from the rest of the bar but none came. The light that had been illuminating me at the bar swiftly shifted to my new position to reveal i was now stood on the dance floor. I smiled at her apprehensively as she slowly, sexily walked towards me.

She reached me and walked around me several times, surveying my body with eyes like those of a hawk. She stopped in front of me after 3 orbits and raised her hands. In one, she grabbed my own, pulling my arm around her back. In the other, she grabbed my other arm and put my hand on her waist. Slowly she led as we began to dance. We moved gently through the twilight of the disco globe as danced slowly, romanticly. This was amazing, and i never wanted it to end.

Rosalie then stopped moving to cue us to stop dancing. She looked at me in my eyes, and i the same with her. In them i saw the universe, floating amidst a beautiful sea of blue. I was abruptly brought back to reality when i noticed how close our eyes were to each other. We were now mere centimeters apart, our lips craving each other. I was nervous, but it had to happen. I took action and leant forward for the kiss, but it never came. Still i went forward, knowing the touch was about to come. but it never did.

Instead i fell. I fell forward, flat on my face in the middle of the dance floor. I stood up looking around, but the spotlight above made only the dance floor visible. "Rosalie!" i shouted. "Rose!". But she never replied.

Instead, the most horrid, shreiking laughter ensued. The spotlight dispersed and the lights came on. The dance floor was surrounded by many tables and they held many chairs. There was no one here, but the shrieking laughter still went on. I closed my eyes and tried to block it out when it abruptly stopped. I slowly opened my eyes to find myself back on the train, bounding towards the island once again...

I stared at my own reflection through the mirror, admiring the attire I’d selected for the day. A set of dark, formal garments detailed with markings as green as luminescent emeralds, covered by a fur-lined coat that made me look like I was the lion with an abnormally large mane. And to top it all off, literally… I slowly place a top hat upon my head, with green band tied around it and an emerald embedded within.

I don’t know what everyone else will think, but I’d say I look pretty damn good for the occasion.

I turn and walk out of the changing room, into the hallway, the door shutting itself behind me. There, sitting outside, are three of my own creations, sitting and waiting for me; Zachary Banes, David Sinacre, and Deuclian Isaac Grail.

“Well?’ I ask, still smiling. “How do I look?”

“Extravagant!” Zachary announces with a smile.

“Decent.” Deuclian replies, clearly not as enthusiastic.

“Like *bleep*ing Willy Wonka.” David blatantly says aloud.

I point at David with my gloved hand and say, “Hush. I like it, so that automatically means you have to like it too.” David shakes his head and says in his raspy ghoul voice, “Hey, you’re the one who made me a painfully honest bastard. You ask for my opinion, you get the truth like you get a brick in the face. You know what I suggest? Rip up the tails a bit, it’ll say something about your character.”

David’s one of my favorites. Truly.

“Alright, fine. Screw you too.” I reply. I look at all of them and say, “Now if you would, get back down to the lobby with the rest of the crowd. The boys are on their way here, and they could arrive at any moment.”

The three of them nod and stand up to leave for the elevator. They mutter a few things, probably expectant of a select few of the creators coming to the island. Oh, well. Their excitement is something I can count on.

I turn and begin walking in the opposite direction however, heading for… well, that’s just for me to know, really.

"My head..." I grumble, my face buried in my hands.

Putting it nicely, it hurt like *bleep*. Too many people think it's easy being a student. They only look at all the perks: huge parties, day-drinking, not having to face the real world, student loans, more drinking. But nobody seems to understand the hardships we have to face to enjoy these: financial bullshit, not having money to spend on drinking, deadlines, exams, staying up all night so you don't miss said deadlines and, above all else, the hangovers. Dear God! The hangovers!

So yeah, I'm a bit of a mess right now: hair all over the place after a a fairly uneasy sleep on the couch; eyes probably bloodshot, can't see my reflection well enough to know for sure; my head feeling like it's been slammed in a car door; and I can't even tell if my gut is trying to tell me to puke, or eat. To sum it up, my body is trying to die.

I really should have planned this a little better, I mean, I knew I'd be getting on this train today but going out last night just seemed like such a good idea at the time.

Anyway, enough bitching, about the hangover at least. I also hate trains. Especially long uneventful train journeys, they're always too warm and the seats are far too uncomfy to fall asleep on, stupid Scotrail. They can't do anything right, hell getting the trains to run on time is a bloody achievement for them. Sucks, since they're my usual method of transport around Scotland. Sadly, their still better than buses, I can't sleep on either. Travelling sucks. Seeing places and people from all over the world is great, but actually travelling itself is tedious and uncomfortable. Unless of course you find a way to make it eventful.

I let my hands fall from my head as the pain subsides, the hangover's fading a little now. Looking out the window for the first time in a while: nothing but blue. The sky, the sea, all illuminated wondrously by the sun. It's actually kinda unnerving, not seein a single could in the sky. You'd never see that in Scotland for more than an hour.

I gotta say, I'm kinda looking forward to meeting this people, and how they react to me, knowing that I've chosen they're every action. What they thought was fate dealing them a good, or bad, hand in life was simply them following out a story I had set in my head. How would they feel about that? I know not all of them got it easy from me, some lost parents, friends, even their lives. Would they be angry? After all, it would be far too easy to accuse me of tormenting them for my own amusement? I like to feel that they would thank me though, as every experience I put them through was for their own betterment, hardships placed in their lives so that they can grow.

An interesting idea occurs to me, partly inspired by that one train of thought, partly from my module in Philosophy this semester. How can we argue that we exist? How can we, knowing these creations were completely oblivious to our existence, claim that we are different from them? Who is to say that we too are anything more than just characters in another, more grand roleplay. And, following that, how deep does the rabbit hole actually go?

I guess the answer is, we can't know. We cannot state anything with absolute certainty because all that we claim lies within our knowledge relies on thought processes that have been forged through experiences. And we can never fully rely on our senses to grant us an absolutely correct perception of the world. What a pain in the ass.

Too much thinking is hurting my head, and I'm beginning to lose the feeling in my legs from having been sat on this train for so long. Need to stretch my legs a little I think. For the record, that is no easy task when your dressed in a god damn kilt. They're nowhere near as restrictive of movement as a suit, which most of the others seem to have come dressed in, but they are bloody heavy. I will concede though, that they do liberate the entire genital region, and a gentle breeze around your bollocks is never a bad thing. That assumes you go 'true Scotsman' of course, which anyone who calls themself Scottish is obliged to do.

I'm still hungover, and after a year of student life, I know the perfect cure for both that, and any tediousness: more alcohol.

Reaching into the sporran that rests on the red and gold tartan concealing my manhood from the world, I pull out a small hipflask and admire the familiar crest, a red lion rampant underneath a saltire split between azure and white, lying below an open book, all upon a shield. Obviously, it's the coat of arms of my university, the 3rd oldest in the english speaking world, and I am, despite some of my complaints, proud to be a student there. Then, after a moment, I move on, and open it up. Still some whiskey left in there, Dalwhinnie 15 years if I remember right, might as well put it to good use.

Let's hope everyone livens up pretty soon, or I'll be making an arse of myself before the journey is done. Maybe I should offer to share the whiskey? Maybe, not so sure of that idea though...

I'm sitting near the back. Not the back of the train per se, but the back of the particular compartment we're all waiting patiently in to see exactly what's in store for us. There's plenty of empty seats here. Makes you wonder about lost possibilities. Who could've been in those seats; who ended up there in the long-run.

Thinking philosophically about train seats... keep up the great work, Steve.

I'm letting my mind wander again. Everyone here... I've worked with them before. Done writing projects with almost every single one of them, all over the course of a year and a half. And here they all are again, in one place. I have fond memories of writing with these people. Good to see them again.

But then there's my creations themselves. Am I really going to interact with them? Will they accept me as the person who sloppily threw their background stories together late at night when he was having trouble falling asleep? Hell, will they even *bleep*ing care? Probably not. But it's good to come back again either way.

I'm glad Roy included me. Here's hoping I don't make him regret it by the end of this.

Oh yeah, I kinda forgot about that.

Apparently when you meet people from the internet in real life, there's a little bit of awkwardness because nobody really seems to quite know what to say, or in this case what name to use. It's a fair enough point though. I mean, if you've known a guy for years as *insert generic username here* and suddenly you come face to face with the same guy in the real world, except his name is *insert generic guy name here* what would you call him? I don't even know. I guess I'll stick to the internet names for now.

"Let's go with Kush. Sam just seems strange and scary right now." The kid nods.

"And Sam's my grandad. Well, was my grandad. You are Blade now. Makes you sound like some stereotypical badass." He nodded again, too quiet compared to the internet.

Now, that was out of the way, I just have to kill the awkwardness. And I have just the thing, random incoherent bullshit.

"So, did you know that the reason nobody has ever seen the Loch Ness monster is because they're looking in the wrong place. Despite the name, Nessie actually inhabits Loch Lomond, and so any travellers that take the low road like the song says, usually meet with a gruesome munchy demise. Also, she only eats the ugly ones. Not sure why."
The look on his face says it all. It was pretty much screaming 'What the *bleep*?!' at me.

"Listen to me son, alcohol's a bad bad thing. Messes with your head, and my God does it hurt in the morning after. On that note," I extend the hipflask to him, still open, "care for some whiskey? Might liven this trip up a little bit."

Across the way I noticed a boy sit down with a Scotsman in a kilt. If my deduction skills weren't wrong, which they never... rarely... sometimes... mostly are... I'd say that the Scottish born was definitely KK, while the boy across him was more than likely Blade.

I chuckled looking at the kilt again. Bad memories with that damn thing. Creepy old women, flippin my junk out without my say so! In front of family AND loved ones... I HOPE YOU DIE IN A FIERY PIT OLD WOMAN! But needless to say, that kilt couldn't be comfortable. I don't know how anyone could just stand not being under the confines of a pair of boxers.

But I digress.

I had worked my way up to them, just as KK offered Blade a drink from his Flask.

"Care for some whiskey? Might liven this trip up some."

"If the kid doesn't want any, I'll take some." I chuckled, sticking my hands in my pants pockets, pushing the bottom of my coat up some.