Goodbye, Sanity~

[paradoxlol]

Have you known such a savoury grief as I?
Do people say "Strange fellow!," whom you meet?
— My amorous soul, when I was due to die,
Felt longing mixed with horror; pain seemed sweet.
 
Anguish and ardent hope (no factious whim)
Were mixed: and as the sands of life ran low
My torture grew delicious yet more grim,
And of this dear old world would not let go.|

[There's a long pause in the text, then he switches to voice.]
 
It's Baudelaire.  I can't remember the rest.  I just wanted to share, because... because I woke up, and it was like when you get a song stuck in your head.  An idea that replays over and over again, and you try to get it out, but you can't. [He lets out a soft snort at the thought.  NOT THAT ANYBODY WOULD KNOW, but Arthur's tone sounds more like his normal, pre-Invasion self.]
 
The thing about an idea is... If it isn't yours, you can always trace it back to its genesis.  Your mind-- your mind is-- it's this incredible tool; it retains so much more than you can even comprehend.  Some speculate that you never really forget anything-- you may not recall something, but it's still there, locked inside your head.  You can't, you can't make a person believe in a lie forever, not if you don't go deep enough. [He laughs hollowly]  Any memory can be retrieved. 
 
Anything...
 
[Murmuring:] It's on the tip of my tongue.
 
[He lets out a soft sigh and begins to recite, his voice going flat:]
 
J'étais comme l'enfant avide du spectacle,
Haïssant le rideau comme on hait un obstacle...
Enfin la vérité froide se révéla:

J'étais mort sans surprise, et la terrible aurore
M'enveloppait. — Eh quoi! n'est-ce donc que cela?
La toile était levée et j'attendais encore.
 
That's it.  That's what I was forgetting.
 
[OOC: CUE ARTHUR GOING CRAZY.  Or beginning to.  He knows something's wrong; he knows that he should be able to check that this is reality, but the whole concept of a totem is basically gone, so he's left in a daze.  IF I'M FEELING INTELLIGENT ENOUGH, his comments will become more and more surreal, but if I'm not, he'll just be in a weird malaise.  By tonight/tomorrow, he'll start trying to "kick" his canonmates and himself.  With a gun.  The poem is "The Dream of a Curious Man", and I'm using the second translation here.  OH AND: Arthur's on the deck right now, staring down at the "sea" of stars, so that's where you can find him.]

Comments

Private

[cauchemal]

Arthur? Are you feeling well?

Private

[paradoxlol]

[A pregnant pause. Real or projection? Mal's dead, remember.]

I'm fine. Just had that poem stuck in my head.

Private

[cauchemal]

[Oblivious, pleasant, maternal Mal is oblivious to the implications of that pause.]

Arthur. One doesn't "just" get things like Baudelaire stuck in one's head.

What's the matter?

[batmanschmatman]

Everything okay, buddy? [Which is sort of being asked in a "Are you high?" :| tone.]

[paradoxlol]

[Distracted:] Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine.

[Pause, then he resumes in a lighter voice sounding more like Invasionverse Arthur.] I didn't think a little bit of poetry was cause for concern. Bring up too many bad memories of college?

[batmanschmatman]

No, you just seem a little out of it.

Private; well, this is slightly weird. Where has party Arthur gone? :|

[hatestriangles]

French poetry, huh?

Private; party Arthur got drunk and passed out :c

[paradoxlol]

Yeah. I studied it in school.

Private; oh party Arthur, you so wild.

[hatestriangles]

Yeah? Jeez. I could never even get my head around that stuff in English, man.

So what's it mean?

[puzzleprince.livejournal.com]

Curious sentiment. Has the rampant amnesia targeted your treasured years of tertiary school?

[paradoxlol]

No. I'm not missing anything.

[puzzleprince.livejournal.com]

You're under the impression you can lie to me. Cute.

What's wrong, Arthur?

Private

[ourlastbesthope.livejournal.com]

[Concerned:] Arthur.

What's happened?

Private

[paradoxlol]

I'm not who you think. I'm sorry.

[For incepting you, Fischer :V]

Private

[ourlastbesthope.livejournal.com]

Why are you apologizing to me?

Private.

[toldastory]

Arthur love, can I come see you?

Private.

[paradoxlol]

Why? [PARANOIA.]

Private.

[toldastory]

I just want to check and see if you're alright. I'm a doctor, and I'm you're friend and I'm here to help.

[givemeafight.livejournal.com]

Arthur, what the hell are you talking about?

[paradoxlol]

[Arthur's voice is flat, as though he's reciting something, like, OHHHH, notes.] "Emil Blonsky is military trained. Highly unstable and aggressive, prone to violent outbursts. Treat with caution."

[givemeafight.livejournal.com]

You know that I'm the least unstable person on this boat. What are you talking about?

Private

[drafting-dreams.livejournal.com]

Arthur, what's going on? You shouldn't be talking like this. [You're giving too much information away D:]

Private

[paradoxlol]

I'm finally waking up, Ariadne.

[Private]

[aforger]

Had a bit too much free scotch, Arthur? I haven't heard you recite french poetry in ages. [His tone suggest innuendo there, because it's Eames.]

[Private]

[paradoxlol]

I'm completely sober, Mr. Eames. [NO PLAYFULNESS AT ALL.] Why haven't you given him a kick yet? [Him being Crane, because he MIGHT BE A PART OF FISCHER, YOU KNOW.]