Jump to content

LOCK

Lemniscate

By Lemniscate
in Creative Writing

Recommended Posts

Lemniscate Newbie

Lemniscate

Posted
Posted

Welcome, this is the second story I have posted here, but my first in a long time.

This story will be very long, told in 3 Parts, and entries might be spread out, so please bear with me.

 

NOTE: Even though I am leaving YCM, I am subscribed to this thread, and will still post here

[spoiler=Overview]

This is the tale of Princeton Marx, a young boy living in a Europe in the year 2109.

It tells the story of his adventures through space and time, and the quest for a greater knowledge he believes exists.

It is a chronicle not of the first Dimension traveler, but of the one who meant the most, and whose impact was the greatest.

It is a long tale, with many windings and turnings, but it is one which needs to be told.

I hope you find this chronicle enjoyable, as I have made it for you, the reader.

 

Thank you,

HarbingerEvil

 

 

[spoiler=Infinity Circuit: The Fable of Princeton Marx Part 1]

[spoiler=Chapter 1]

It was raining.

It was always raining.

Living in England, he was accustomed to the downpours, but it was starting to get on his nerves.

Princeton hadn't been able to leave his house in a solid week, and with his father gone, it was more boring than usual.

*Sigh*

He got up from the window chair in which he currently sat. It was of handcarved mahogany, and was beautiful in every sense of the word. But to him, it was just a chair.

It wasn't that he was jaded, it was just the same chair he had been sitting in for 16 years, since he was born and brought to his room in Marx Manor.

The stairs creaked under his feet as he descended the flights to go down to the kitchen. He knew the sound each stair made, every one distinct from every other.

Opening the door, he looked around the kitchen.

Another door opened on the east side of the room, to the left side of Princeton.

"Oh, Master Princeton, would you like me to make you something?"

He shot a somber look at the smiling cook.

"No thanks, it's fine Pauli."

The chef turned around, and returned to the other room, which Princeton knew was the staff room. He could see there were others in it, because there was light smoke coming off of the door. From the cigar smoking buttlers inside.

He went over to the refrigerator, opening it smartly. There wasn't much inside, as the attendants hadn't had a chance to shop while the rain continued.

He pulled an apple out of the crisper on the bottom shelf, and with a sharp slam of the door, left the kitchen.

He wished his dad would get back...

He walked over to the study his father commonly used, sitting at the desk, he shuffled through papers assorted there, looking for some hint as to what his father was doing.

As usual, there was nothing. His father kept his study sumptuously spotless, and was always very sure to keep the more important files hidden, where, Princeton didn't know.

It's pretty uneventful today...

He left the room and looked at the window.

It was still raining.

*Sigh*

 

 

[spoiler=Chapter 2]

Today was the day, his father was coming home.

Princeton lay awake in his bed, his back above the covers, but still in his pajamas.

He looked over to the clock on the counter beside him.

"2:43"

He had a while. His Dad wouldn't back home until around 8:00 that night, but still, he couldn't fall asleep.

It wasn't like he hadn't seen his father a million times before, he had, but he just couldn't get his mind to shut down.

His thoughts whizzed about like little angry fireflies, shining waking light into his eyes.

It was maddening.

 

He knew that he wasn't going to be able to sleep at the moment, so he gave up the chase and got up from his bed.

Walking over to the small chest-of-drawers on the other side of the room, Princeton pulled out his day clothes, preparing to put them on.

He changed easily enough, his clothes had already already pressed by the buttler. He didn't like these clothes though.

They were the clothes he was always required to wear when ever his father came home from trips. The servants told him it was, "good manners", but to him it just felt stuffy and uncomfortable.

He changed into them anyway, not wanting the servants to see him around the house without them. Becuase they would definitely scold him for that.

They were nice looking, but the real problem was the collared shirt. Which was the most tight fitting collar he had ever worn.

It seemed to constrict his neck whenever he wore it, and it was so tight that it gave the impression that his neck was fat.

For any other 16 year old, this might not have been so odd, except he was an exceptionally skinny boy, with lanky arms and legs that made shopping difficult.

So, that the clothing he was wearing made him look fat was a remarkable thing.

 

Princeton stepped out of his room, walking down the hallway, making as little noise as possible.

He walked down to the foyer, where he could see the marks of the servant's midnight cleaning. Everything was brightly polished, all of the knicknacks and heirlooms that his father kept were shined to a stunning sheen.

His reflection smiled back up at him from the floor.

The television room was empty, as he had expected, and so sitting down, Princeton turned on the screen.

It was the regular babble, war here, peace there.

He didn't really care for any of it, he just wanted the sound.

It was a pet-peeve of his, but he didn't particularly care for any sort of silence. That's why he sat by the window in the rain, just to catch a whiff of the white-noise it generated.

Princeton sat there mindlessly for several hours, watching the shows change over and over.

The clock on the wall shifted on its axis, the hours passing by.

 

Finally, as the time struck 7, Princeton got up to meet the Head Attendant, who he always talked to on days like this.

The Head Attendant was a stiff man, former military, he was very regimental in his actions. He ran the household like the swiss watches of old. He was so stuffy, that Princeton got a bit of a kick talking to him on these days, as his stress level was so high that anything would set him off.

Stepping into the Sitting Room, Princeton smiled blatantly at the Head Attendant.

"What?" asked the man.

"Just wondering what you're doing."

He shot a glaring look at him.

"You know very well what I'm doing young man."

Wow, this was even easier today than usual.

"Well, what is it?"

"I am cleaning for your father's return."

"Yeah well, don't let me get in the way."

He got up, and grinning from ear to ear, left the room.

He would go back every hour to repeat the process, so that he could pass the day, and that was great for him.

So, pass the day he did, going about his shenanigans with the staff to entertain himself.

 

Finally, the clock struck 8, and everyone began gathering at the entrance.

The Driver had gone to pick up Princeton's father about an hour ago, and so they would be back soon.

They all stood there waiting expectantly, some shifting uncomfortably on their feet, others fixing their clothes or hair.

Finally, the door opened.

"Hi dad."

 

 

[spoiler=Chapter 3]

"Well, are you just going to stand there son, or are you going to help me?"

He was dumbfuzzled.

"What are you staring at?"

It was his dad, standing there in front of him, but yet he was different.

When his father had left, he had been a shining example of youth and manhood, strong, tall, imposing; but now, he looked so old. He had a graying beard on his chin, and his limbs seemed more tired than they ever had before.

Princeton didn't have time to ponder this though, as he was quickly pushed aside by the attendants who rushed to help his dad with the luggage.

*Why does he look so different?*

He knew something was going on, so he told himself to make sure to ask his dad. For now though, he stood quietly behind the throng, waiting patiently for his father to push his way through.

Sure enough, after a minute or so, he heard his father say, "Bloody hell, let me through. I want to see my son. Where is Princeton?" Then, with a forceful shove, Princeton's father dislodged himself from the group.

Looking up with a beaming smile, his father said, "Well, Princeton, ow you getting along?"

That was his classic dad.

"Hi Dad, I'm going well."

 

They then began hugging. As soon as they let go, one of the attendants came up, "Master Chandler, your dinner is ready."

No more than 10 minutes later, the two men sat at the dinner table, eating their choice of favorite meals.

They exchanged looks, but did nothing more while their mouths were full of roast beef.

It was so great to have his dad back, however he looked. Princeton felt the happiest he had felt in a month. He couldn't keep from smiling, and it was all he could do to contain his joy.

Finally the meal was finished, and his father sat down for the customary cigar and brandy.

Princeton wasn't invited for this part of the returning, in fact he didn't want to go, so he went back up to his room.

He lay there for a while, watching the cieling as he lay on his bed, waiting for the clock to strike 10, so he could go talk to his dad.

He went over in his mind why his father looked the way he did, kept turning over the thoughts in his head.

 

"Master Princeton, your father is in the study, if you would like a word with him."

Princeton got up and went downstairs again.

"Oh, close the door son."

His father was sitting at his desk, unloading his papers from his briefcase.

"They said you wanted to talk to me."

"Yes sir."

Chandler turned around in his seat.

"Well, spit it out, what do you want to talk about?"

He choked a bit.

"I want to talk about, well... why you look so old."

His fathers eyes glinted knowingly.

"I would like to tell you a story."

Princeton was surprised by this.

"It is about a man, and I think you need to hear it."

He waited for a response.

"Oh, okay Dad."

 

"There once was a man, who was rich beyond measure. He had everything he could ever want in the world, all the money and women and trappings he could ever need. One day, he was walking along the street, when suddenly a bandit jumps from a nearby bush.

'I am a bandit, give me your jewels.'

The man smiled back.

'What would you want my jewels for? They aren't worth anything, they are all fake and have nothing of value.'

The bandit frowned.

'I don't want your jewels then'

The man continued on down the road, when a tax collector came up.

'Stop, give me your riches.'

'Well, what do you want my riches for? I have no riches to give to you.'

He was confused.

'Well then, carry on.'

The rich man continued on the road, until an enemy came up.

'Give me your women, I am lonely and sad.'

'Now why would you want my women? They wouldn't love you, you want your own women.'

The man was confused and continued on the road.

The rich man went about his business, until a few days later, he went to the bank.

'I would like to withdraw my money please.'

'I'm sorry sir, money?'

'Yes money, the money I keep here.'

'Oh, well yesterday a Bandit, a Man, and a Tax Collector all came and withdrew your money.'

'They took my money?'

'Yes sir, all of it.'

The rich man had lied to them, and they had taken his money anyway."

 

"Why did you tell me that?" asked Princeton

Chandler smiled at him.

"I suggest you get off to bed, it is almost midnight son."

He knew it was time to leave.

So without a word, Princeton got up and left. His father shuffling papers on his desk.

 

 

 

 

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Archived

This topic is now archived and is closed to further replies.

Go to topic listing
×
×
  • Create New...