Description: Emerging from the underground resting place of 'the Flower', Luise is forced to make a difficult decision regarding how to handle her newfound and unexpected 'sister'. In the end she chooses to stay true to her principles, but it's possible that this choice may have unexpected consequences for some... ("Schmetterling und Strohblume", Part 5)
Clearly it wasn't any trouble for Luise to leave the vacinity. The only difference in surroundings between the way she came in and the way she left is that the plantlife has flourished quite a bit upon exiting.
It's starting to approach sunset, so the shadows about the junglish area are growing larger and darker, and the light that shines through gives off an orange coloring to the wood it touches. The buzzing of creatures fill the air, and the air feels so much more fresh, even if it is quite warm than it was from down below.
Also upon leaving Luise's headaches have vanished completely, and at no point had she had any unusual visions- And of course everything within the hut-like housing is untouched. There has been nothing but peace, really, within the last hour.
The calm has given her time to think things through... but it hasn't made it any easier for Luise to handle. The strange memories, at least, seem to be halfway understood now... they were either psychometric impressions left by Selma, or perhaps simply a beacon Selma herself was subconsciously providing her 'older sister' so that she could find her. Either way, the implications for Luise's powers leave her somewhat unsettled... as even among other users of the ineffable Psycho Power, Luise Meyrink has shown unique powers far different from the norm.
The plant life is not lost on her, and in fact the Dancing Butterfly is standing outside the hut in the hazy light of the tropical dusk, letting her fingers run alongside the red bloom of some unknown hot climate flower which has grown, inexplicably, seemingly from the very object itself. Selma's motif as 'the Flower' certainly carries through... but as she looks up, Luise notices the beginning of the evening sparkle of stars in the broadening velvet of the approaching night. Hidden during the day, it's only in darkness that they truly shine; though humanity is always bathed in their radiance, it is only when things are blackest that they know the stars are there.
And for the first time, Luise suddenly feels that her interest in astronomy is no coincidence. From the coldest-seeming science, the measuring of albedo and orbit, comes the most beautiful and fragile dance.
Turning to look at the hut's doorway, however, she is filled with a sense of sadness at what is to come. It's almost time... her fifty minutes are almost up.
It most certainly must be an.. Awkward situation. From below the Meyrink clone had been thinking about what Luise had said, her reactions, and recalling her thoughts of the 'past'. But the more she thought, the more she 'realized' how right she was.
% At some point Luise's path did stray, leaving Selma more or less alone with her unevolving thoughts. And then finally, it was time. 'I don't suppose you've seen things my way yet, have you?' Her gentle voice asks, telepathically.
Luise's attention is at the hut, but looking just to the left of it would provide better results. The dark soil twists and turns, then draws opens slowly, the being in white raising up from the seperated soil, amazingly(?) untouched by the dirt. Her eyes, naturally, are locked on the figure of her other.
"No, I haven't." Luise is speaking aloud for a reason, though she heard Selma's statement perfectly well. Part of it is simple training; once you let yourself contact someone telepathically, let it become a part of your routine, you forget about the ways language structure human interaction... how needing to put something so abstract as thoughts and feelings into the limited collections of sounds and signs called 'words' can profoundly affect the way you are understood.
Perhaps that's Luise's strategy. Not to use her psychic powers to give Selma an impression of her vision of the world... because such a thing could easily be done. Not just simple words, potentially lost in translation, but *images*, feelings and emotions, all the intangibles that create human interiority. She could do it. She chooses not to because she knows that is the path of weakness, of giving up her humanity... and above all, Luise maintains the belief that she is, fundamentally human.
Even if she has doubts.
"All things, no matter how misguided or misdirected their energies, have *purpose*, Selma. Everything was created for a reason! It's up to everyone to find their reason for being... and it is not our right, even gifted as we are, to take that choice from people. Father... Detlev... may not have been a saint, but he is a human being. I know..." She pauses, taking a deep breath. This is the precipice she needs to jump from. The leap of faith.
"I know... you must be hurting. How terrible it has to be, to be brought into the world only for an eyeblink, to sate someone's scientific curiosity... but even the shortest-lived flower can bloom in adversity."
"...."
Selma isn't quick to catch on to the purpose behind speaking aloud. She suspects there may be a reason, since she's positive at this point Luise is aware they have a psychic link. However she doesn't care quite enough to persue the reason yet.
As Luise speaks further, Selma takes a moment to glance to the changing sky, lids half-lowered. Odd, how she doesn't seem to be entirely fond of the sun, but maybe it's because her eyes haven't adjusted to it yet. "I agree, Luise. I never doubted for even a moment, that the living have such a right. But for the world that we want, that we desire. In that kind of perfect world, criminals, liars, the unfaithful, have no place. A fantastic sacrifice must be made to achieve true peace."
Her eyes widen just slightly more, to look to her 'sister'. No smile, not a single smidgen of satisfaction on her facial features. "The good news is we do not have to start over completely. I can sense that there are many who do fit, that can be spared without devestating results. Yes, it hurts. But knowing what will come of it all, I cannot turn back. Even though I do not have the right I /must/..."
"I've mentioned before that I am near-perfection. My regenerative abilities will not allow me to 'decompose'. I will live to see that world flourish.. That is, of course, unless..."
There it is.
The proverbial elephant in the room. That Luise and Selma would have differences, consider the world differently, is understandable even considering their origin from the same genetic material. After all, isn't Luise's "aberration" simply proof of how her life experience has changed her? Perhaps Selma, sleeping for so long, filled with nothing but a great and terrible sense of purpose, lacked what Luise herself feels is so important: the love and support of her father.
"Is 'perfection' something so desirable, I wonder?" Luise asks quietly, letting her hand drift over the petals of the red flower she was observing before. "What a terrible and lonely place that would be to live. Never able to change or grow, always stuck exactly where you are, in that moment, forever. Everyone seeks 'strength', to become something greater, to move beyond the moment." Her pale fingers pull back from the blossom as she turns to her 'sister', with an unaccountably sad expression.
"Selma... *sister*. I'm asking you to turn away from a dream that can never be realized. Isn't there something inside you that tells you destroying so much to achieve a 'perfect' peace is wrong?" Though her words are kind, Luise's resolve is firm, and her stance reflects it. Her psychic aura radiates it, too: compassion, a deep compassion, a willingness to help. A distaste for violence to achieve an end... but an absolute desire to protect people. "There may be liars and thieves, the unfaithful, the strange and the unkind... but from those seeds may someday grow the most beautiful of flowers."
"Well, I admit that my definition of 'perfection' is not very strict. While the idea of sitting within a field of plantlife for eternity appeals to me greatly, I similarly understand that it is not ideal for everyone else. Even still, I do not think it would be so boring. The miracle of birth. The wonders of nature. The creation of something from nothing.. And you by my side."
Selma closes her eyes, her chin tilted upward slightly. "Evolution is inevitable as well, while you cannot fathom something evolving from such a world, I can. Now then, I will as a final time to reconsider. Luise, you and I were to do this togeather. I would assume you were the one that was to decide who lives, as your abilities do not seem very.. Destructive, even at the height of your awakening. If you refuse.. I will observe on my own. And I can sense others whom are good, with amazing psychic talents that perhaps I can persuade."
"I won't stop you." The words are carefully chosen. Not that she can't stop Selma, because deep down if she needs to, Luise believes she can. But that she won't. "Even if I had the desire, wouldn't that make me a hypocrite? No... you were born in this world, and will someday die in this world, and so you have... certain rights, and certain responsibilities." For a moment, Luise shuts her eyes, putting a hand just above her heart... as if to reassure herself that she is doing the right thing. And there is a voice inside her that says: she's dangerous. She's not safe. She's going to hurt people, possibly people you care about. Stop her, before it's too late.
But it's that very voice Luise is trying so hard to get Selma herself to ignore... and she can't give in to it, no matter what. If she's going to follow the path that *life* chose for her -- that being the woman named 'Luise Meyrink' means -- then she must do it with all of her will, all of her might.
But...
The deep blue eyes open, and they fix themselves squarely on Selma's face. "But our hearts are connected. I have no power over you... but we're always connected. And if I feel that the fragile and unique people of this world -- people who, like the cocooned butterfly resting on the flower, long to someday stretch their wings and soar into the heavens -- are threatened, I will come to their aid as only I can. I... wish it wouldn't need to be this way. I hope that you will change your mind. But I cannot do it for you."
Selma finally takes notice of the red flower herself now. Does it mean anything in particular to her? She's not entirely sure. She does know that she likes it.
"How very like you.." she then says, amusement light in her tone. "The same goes for myself, of course, you will be spared. Which is rather problematic, I have a feeling that you and I will run into one another a little too much if what you say is true. I think you'll be too busy, though."
"I find your final comment the most interesting, however. Because you /do/ have the ability to change my mind.. It's just unlike you to use the option you have. At least, perhaps not until my two final targets are approached." Selma raises her hands to her shoulders then, a gentle breeze drifting between the pair, her eyes locked upon her 'sister's. ".. Or rather I hope they'd be final. I recommend when you find father, to hide him the best you can. Now then, can you can get out of here on your own?"
So that's it. They go their separate ways... each knowing that a clash between them at some level is inevitable. But a part of Luise aches to leave this place now, to return to whatever semblance of a normal life she was enjoying in Southtown. To walk among the very people she's just referred to as seeds, or cocoons... the beginnings of something great. And now more than ever, she needs to be strong, to encourage others to share their potential, to become more than what they are right here, right now...
"Yes," is the only thing she can say. She has Jaeger's map and compass, not that she needs them. It's as if the geography of this place is seared into her brain now... perhaps some side effect of her connection to Selma, or merely her own powers working overtime to boost her mental processes. But what does the Flower mean when she says Luise has the ability to 'change her mind'? Not that the Dancing Butterfly would ever exercise such a power... the very thought of her abilities used to control others makes her skin crawl. "Selma... if we really are connected, if I really am some sort of... sign or guidepost to you, then travel safely and remember the things I've said here today. Whatever its origins, life is life... you're not confined to a single destiny."
"Guidepost.. That's an odd analogy, but I suppose it isn't entirely incorrect either. I will not forget a thing you have said, however. While I may not be expressing it properly, I am pleased with what I see, and that you are true to your feelings. I am displeased with your weakness, and will make it clear right now that you alone cannot stop what will soon be my judgement. You arrived too soon."
The gust picks up faster, and then a wave of green leaves rain down from the trees, masking Selma's presence for a moment, and then when it dies down, she vanishes completely.
'You're right, I'm not confined to a single destiny. One day I will not be a bringer of destruction. But this is the gift I chose for everyone. Especially you.'
By now, the sky is darkened and the stars above shine their brightest. Selma is gone, her last words ringing in Luise's ears... and perhaps some of the sorrow the Dancing Butterfly feels, she finally understands that Selma may feel too. In a different way, obviously, but it is there... after all, even if their paths were different, and even if their lives diverged, there is something of Luise in Selma, and something of Selma in Luise. An inescapable bond that neither can ignore or deny.
Hopefully, it will be enough to stop the Flower from doing something irreparable... either to others, or to herself.
Wordlessly, Luise turns to go, leaving this 'cradle' behind. She came to learn about the past and, in a sense, she did. Luise found links to a life she doesn't remember living, a purpose she doesn't remember having. But what's done is done. Now is the time to look to the future.
As she walks into the darkness, only the glowing outline of the blue butterfly wings unfolding from her back, her unique power expressing itself, cuts through the evening darkness.
Log created on 20:40:16 10/04/2007 by Luise, and last modified on 12:18:37 10/07/2007.