From Atop The Stones
Steerpikepie sits alone atop the stones. His hair blows around his face in the wind, obscuring the look in his eyes. His posture is tight, perhaps angry, none can tell since he is viewed by none. All is quiet here, in this stone field high above the castle.
I'm here! he yells to the vast pile of masonry crumbling out in all directions beneath him. Mine, you are mine! he laughs into the wind, his hair now blown back from his brow, his eyes alight with ambition, his lips drawn back in a grin so wide it seemed ready to split his face in two.
He begins to dance, bowing as if to an unseen partner, spinning and moving in a manic pace through the stone courtyard lost high in the sky, forgotten by all but the forgotten.
Who first? he wonders aloud. Who first?
He jumps now to the top of the wall, five feet wide and crumbling, and looks down at the outcast, their homes built as if held to the walls by static, dust colored, inferior, necessary. Contempt dances now his eyes as he spits down over the wall.
I am meant for better things! he yells in his mind, his villianously beautiful mind, as he dives into the ivy and begins his descent into madness.
I'm here! he yells to the vast pile of masonry crumbling out in all directions beneath him. Mine, you are mine! he laughs into the wind, his hair now blown back from his brow, his eyes alight with ambition, his lips drawn back in a grin so wide it seemed ready to split his face in two.
He begins to dance, bowing as if to an unseen partner, spinning and moving in a manic pace through the stone courtyard lost high in the sky, forgotten by all but the forgotten.
Who first? he wonders aloud. Who first?
He jumps now to the top of the wall, five feet wide and crumbling, and looks down at the outcast, their homes built as if held to the walls by static, dust colored, inferior, necessary. Contempt dances now his eyes as he spits down over the wall.
I am meant for better things! he yells in his mind, his villianously beautiful mind, as he dives into the ivy and begins his descent into madness.
posted by Steer Pike Pie at 5:16 PM
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As steerpikepie climbed down through the ivy, he heard a sweet soft singing. He stopped and turned toward the sound, his heart thumping in his chest. Across a gulf of space dividing two wings of the castle he saw her through the window. The Lady Pieces. She was dressed in dusty silk, her hair long and flowing in a circle as she spun and sang.
I am pieces, I am pieces, she sang.
Steerpikepie froze, thoughts of vengence frozen solid as stone in his heart. He tried to take his eyes from her, her skin like marble, her red dress flaming out around her slight form.
I must be close to her, he thought. She will be my redemption.
But first he grinned, I must be damned! He continued down, down through the ivy.
Steerpikepie crept quietly through the stones. He wore on his face a look of contemptuous disgust, his nose slightly scrunched as if assailed by a bad odor. He could see them, the whole family, standing on a balcony, overlooking the ceremony.
I should be there, he thought to himself. They seemed bored, dusty, made of the stone itself. The family was very ugly, shifting their eyes in any direction that assured them the meeting of no other eyes.
The Master of Rituals began to speak, droning on and on of the stones. Steerpikepie listened, and as he listened a plan began to form in the depths of his mind, a plan that would seat him in his rightful space, on the stone throne of Gormenghast.
He carefully left his hiding place and stood, grinning, ready to leave everything behind of his old life, a life far beneath what he knew he deserved. He would make them pay for not seeing him, for not giving him the love and respect deserved and demanded by one such as himself.
He hated them. All of them.....but his eyes travelled to the Lady Pieces....
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
(stupid double posts that say i deleted them when i can see them right there!!!!!)
(if you can't see them, please ignore this)
I am glad you cannot see the two posts, very silly they were being to me as I was trying to post for you, but all is well that ends well. :)
I am glad you love it :) That is the whole reason for me writing it, for you to love it.
Steerpikepie stood outside the window of the Lady Pieces. He could hear her moving around in her room, hear her sweet singing. He moved so as to see her, carefully showing no more than his eyes above the stone sill.
She stood in her room, seemingly angry. I'm UGLY she sang, but so are YOU! She twirled again, spreading her hair, her skirts across steerpikepie's heart. She must be different he thought, she is not like them.
She is like them! his mind roared at him. She IS them, and I must hate her! But as he watched her, he began to smile. She reminded him of something he couldn't remember, maybe happiness.
I will write for you until my fingers fall off :)
Steerpikepie had moved himself into a dusty room off of an unused passageway. Rot, he thought. All rotting here. As if the very act of cleaning or dusting was sacrilige to the settled dust of the stones. He cleaned. He dusted. He planned.
The castle groaned around him silently, as if it could sense the cleanliness of his room and hated it. Steerpikepie laughed, an unhealthy sound. Soon, he told himself, soon the very stones will sing my name.
He had chosen this room because it faced East and looked out onto the windows of the Lady Pieces. His eye caught a flash of red, her dress. He moved to the window. She was singing and flitting about her rooms, first seen through one window and then the other. He was mesmerized. He knew he needed to speak to her, but now was not the time. He needed to be ready, ready to harden his heart against her, ready to see her as them.
He pushed himself violently away from the window. He had an appointment to keep,the first in a long list of many. He was going to see the Doctor and he was sure he wouldn't be leaving there without what he wanted.
He stopped. What he wanted? What did he want??
EVERYTHING!!! his mind screamed. EVERYTHING!!!
My cane, Steerpikepie thought. Can't forget that.
He rushed back into his room to retrieve it, his eyes automatically going to his window, through his window, to hers. She stood now gazing outward, seemingly counting the clouds. He moved into the shadows to observe her.
Hate! She screamed out to the clouds. Eight for hate!!! Why not seven for Heaven? NEVER SEVEN!!
The Lady Pieces spun about in a rage and began to draw on her walls. HATE she wrote in huge letters. PIECES she wrote beside it.
Steerpikepie's heart stopped beating. How beautiful she was in her anger. Could she hate? Could she?
He needed to know. His former ambitions fell from him like a cloak of death foretold but escaped.
I must maike a new plan, he thought.
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