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Gountess has never actually heard a babbling brook before, with water being such a limited resource on the ground it was quite rare to find such formations, but the aquatic features were a useful comparison when attempting to explain how his vital instrument worked. It didn't quite capture his current experience with it-the roar of a river being a more apt description-but nonetheless he supposed the concept of babbling brooks served its purpose quite well.
He was laying next to a river, its torrents of voices overlapping to a somewhat soothing song, Gountess was torn on wether or not simply enjoy the symphony or to dip his fingers into the water and untangle lyrics from the river's song. It had been a long time since picking out words felt truly voyeuristic but there was still the faintest indent of guilt for listening in on connections he had no part of.
The indecision was relatively short lived, the omnipresence of shame caused all notions of comfort and respite to taste like guilty pleasures. Gountess currently had very few options in his life and between the choice of voyeur and bystander the former was preferable as it occasionally worked as a balm for his weary soul.
He reached his hand out towards the river, allowing himself to take time wending his fingers above the surface of the water. There was no need to rush. This time he was acting as himself, not as a puppet or pawn, which was quite the luxury these days. His fingers eventually had enough of meandering and plunged into the noise.
Ò̸̭̣͖̝̮̮̖̝͉̫͙̭̋̈̀k̷̨̨̨̛̛̪̻̥̘͎̮̻̙̜͕̟̬͔͚̇̅̑̂̋͆̅̓̄̀̽̑̿̽̈͗́̕͠ą̵̨̛̤̙͕͇̭̠̼̜͎͎̐̆̈̓̈́̃́̅̋̃͑͒͑͐͋͊̏̒̾y̶̡̙̮̱̺̮̘̮̬̝̯̭͇͎̍̒̓̅̎̑̅͘͝ ̶̨̘̻̟̒̇͊͒̃̐͌̈́̀͋̄͌̎́̀́̈́̀̈́͛̔͆͠ͅĨ̵̼̝ ̸̢̢̧̪̪̘̭̙̫̱̜̥̯̭̮͎̻̯͓̩̗̮͈́͗̌ͅṡ̷̨̗̤̲̯̬̖̝̪͕͈͕͔͕e̴̛̛̹͓̻̤͈̣̪̽̋̐͐̎̀͑̄̑̔͑̄͋̐͠͝ę̶̦̰̹̪̫͖͙̈́̽̈́̒̓̑̋̊͛̏̿̅̉͐̾̽̚͘͘͘͝͠͝͝ ̷̭͖̟̦͕̙͙͎̭͗̀͗͒̋̓̈́̍͘͜͠w̴̞̘͉̭͎̠̠̤̥̲̭̲̣̼̅̋̋́̒̈̑̌̾̅͋̎̑̍̉̅͘̚͜͠͝͝͝ͅͅh̶̥̰̺̞̜͇͓̭͕̻͔̝͔̬͑͊̽̀͋̌̈́̄̍̑́ͅͅa̴̢̖̤̻̹͈̻̣̯̺͖͉͉̹͔͔̤͍͊̈́͌͂͌̏͌̍̈́̔̉͛͛̑͜͠t̸̡͙̲̩͚̻̲̰̿̈ ̷̡̳̱̤̗̺̹̠̳͋̂̂̊͋͌̌́̅̏̓̄͘͘̚͘͠ý̷͎̦̭͇͖̙̝̝ͅo̷̢̡̤̝̲̠̥͕̟̳͈͚̹̗̬̪̖̫͚̥̝̔́̀̉̄̍͗̒͛̌̆̄͂̄̄̌͐̚͜͜ù̵̥͙̙̞̭͇͋ ̵̢̦͇̺̭̜͚̬͙̹̞̟͕̖̪̏̉͒m̴̨͚̣̭͉̄̂ē̷͎͉̳͚͔̥̠̈́̇̆̔a̶͍̽̒͋̃͆ņ̷̞̥̼̻̞͓̳̜̹͇̮̠̭̟̺̯̌̍͆͊̍́͋̀͛̀̍̌́͌̋͘͜͝ͅͅ ̶̧̳͖̙̞̗͕̼̺̣̤͔̖̱͕͈͇͊̈͆̆̉̃̆̒͗͗̈́b̵̧̡̢̡̲͎̩̫̳̜̥͈̯̮̠̳͍͖̖̺̼̜̄ǘ̶͙͉̘̟̭̯́͂͋̀̽̆̓̓̏̍̍̋́̏̀̊̚̚ṯ̷̫͚̍̑͋̇͑͒͒ ̸̢̢̩̼͖̱̣̫͇̯͍̦͇͚̝̏̅̾ͅͅg̶̛̗̣͎͚̼̈̐̾̒̀̎̀̊̋͘͘r̴̡̛̩̠̰̤̞͚̼̝͈̲̖̳̱̽͋̀́̓͑̀̍͛̃̄̉̋͂̐͐̚͘͜͜ǫ̸̧̜̮̳̼̹͉̹̤̩͇̮̮̫̗̥̝̞̖̇̈́͊̿̿̿̈̓̌̈́̿̕͜͠ȕ̸̻̱̻̳̰̺͚̘̤̱̰̗̳̝̗̐̀͊̈́̒̀͊̃͌́̈́̃̐̉̂̀͛̽̚͘͝͝n̸̛̟̮̞̠̥̬̬̄͋͒̒̓͗́̓̐̅͛̈́̒͂͐͒͐̈́͘͠͠d̵͕̞͚̱̗̩̠̆̍̑̈́͛̐́͝ ̴̢̧̻̹̤̥̪͓͕͕̺̖̜͓̰̦̈́̈́̋̾̈́̓͂́̂̑̂̑̈͒̇͘͠͝ͅͅh̸̨̢͎̫̮̳̯͓̓̆̍̈́́̽͆́̋̕͝ō̷̢̜̗̙̬͕͇̰̱͔̣̳̳̲̇̓͒̑̅͒͌͝r̴̢̩̜̗̲̟̪̳̭̼͍̞̩͍̙͓̜̻̦̫̬̀̈́̊̽͜ͅs̴̛̖͐͛͋̌̊̓̇͑͊̽̓̚͜͝è̸̯̖̗̑͝s̸̛͔̪̑̓͋͂͑͂͌̌͛͛̽̈̏͐̋͆͘̚͘͝ ̵̨̩̰͎̞̣͉̺̙̪͖͈̲̹͓͙̫̜͎͓̙̻̆͂̏̓̀̈́̾ạ̶̧̛̮̥̪̖̯̘̜̣̘̹̲̐͗̑̐̑̃͛̈́̄̄̽̚͝r̶̢̛͖̮̮̲̻̺̈́͛̓̂̏̇̃͊̈́̌̓̃̀̌͑̈͛̒͆̎͠ͅè̸̢̨̨̲̜̦͓͍̤̺̼̣̭̩̿͒͐̍̍͛͒̒̿̾̈̂͐̍̀̕͜͜͠ͅ ̸̗̯̭͔̫̝̲͊̎̋̈̒́̍̄̚ͅd̴̨̥̰̳̗͓̯̳̘͎͇͙̤̯̻̰̘̗͍͍̙̭̂̈́̂̌̎̒͗̑́̐e̷̡̛̼̻̲̬̯̼̙͈̠͖͋͊̎̍̔͑́̀͐̃̋̏̐̈́̾͘͠͝f̶̼͈̟͉̥̠͖͍͔̟͚̲̜̼̉̿͂̈́̈͛́͊͆͌̈́̃͋̉͐̓̀̀̀́i̸̤͂̅̌̉͜n̷͉̳̰̺̰̣̋̋̆͘i̷̢͙̤̥͙̜͙̘͈̞̯̗͎̼̰̻̽̏̐̾́̆̑͊͗̂͗́̇̚̕͜͝͝t̶̨̪̥͔̬̜̤̺͉͇̖̿͊̾͒́̑͒͐̕͠ë̵̡̧̧̢̛͍͔̱̰̺̻̥͈̯͕̟͎͚̰̝̜̖̭́͛̂̀̊́̓͗͂͂͂̍́̓̅͗̃̚͝͠ͅl̸̡̪̹͍̝͕͗͑̊͂̆̈́̇̒̄̇́y̸̧̦͓͔͈͍̖͓̫͇̙̙͗͛̀͝ ̴̨̹͍̩͚̰͔͕̰̮͉̼͕̞͎̭̰͙̰͙̭͓̦͗̾̒̈́̍̒ͅw̵̢̨͚̭̥̜͉͕̪̠̣̩̗̩͈̜̙͓̮̮̙̲̌͑̽̐͛̒̐͂̎̅̕͝͠a̸̢̨̼̭͎͓̬̥̪̗̙̦̞͕̩͙͙̣̰͛̿̽̄͂́͐̎̃̈́́̀͑̑̕͝y̶̧̧̰̻͈̹͛̈́͒͊͆͑̒́̕̕̕ͅ ̷̡͓͇͖̥̯͎̣̣̜̝̖̬̙̲̦͎̓̇͐̉́̈́̏̑̈́̄̀͌̃̿͛͗̽͆̚͘c̵̨̛͓͉͆͗̈̈́̔͐̑̀͒͋̌̎͛̽̎̕͠o̸̧̡̬̫̯͎̥͓̜̤͕͚̳̼̭̞̱͉̘̺̮̎̀̏͌̊̅͂̒̍̔̏́̚ͅͅơ̴͚̳̬͇̖͇̹͕̝͓͓̟̯͉͍̄̏́̐͒̈́̄͌̈́͑̿̇̇̊͗̕͘͜l̷̢̨̺͔̱͖̥̭̜̭̫̱̦̫͒͒́̍̐̐̀̾̌̀́͒̂̎͋̌͊̒̒̋͜ͅę̷̠͓̲͇̭̻̺̳͎̥̞̙͈̯̺͍̠̤̲̰͈̀̉́̊̉̂̈́̈r̴̡̧̨̪͕̹̦͇͓̙̻͓̘̮̬͙̘̼͓͍̦͚̼͍͗͛͛͂̐̀̄͗́̈̐̃̍ ̶̢̫̣̫̬̼̼̞̥̪͂̏͒̆̔͑͒̌͌̓̈̚̚̕̚͝
Ä̵̡̮̬̠̝͚̲̟͚͕̤̗̮͚̣̣͚̥͕̮͇͔̦̙̦̠́̒̽̒̋̎̇͑̎̇͜ņ̶̨̡̳͕̻̰͖̜̣͔͓̱̟̩̣͐͌̔̿͌̾̇̈́͊͗̀̎̎̅͂̎͜͝͝ḑ̸̛̜̭̻̱̲͔̟̗̘͔͉͉̰ ̴̢̬̻̖̤͈̩̱̙̥͕͖̳̤̗̺̲͓̭̲̯̞͔̯͙̟̄̽͛̏̇̈́͋̅͜ͅt̶̡̧̡̧̛͍͇͙͚͉̲͖̟̼̳́̊̓͆̈́̆͛͐͐͒̉̃̿͝͠͝͠͝͠h̵̨̛̬͍̙̟͓̙͎͂̽̈́̿̒͊̑̾̑͑͒̒̓̍̏̒̓̀́̍̈́̌̎̉̍͊̚͝ë̵̡͚͚̱̰̰̙̟̺͈͔̙̹̭̰͎͖̯̗́̒̍͆̌̈́̔̐́̉̑̇͂̊̂̾̓̌̐̑̚̚̚͠͝͠͝͝y̴̜̣̦͈̍̈́͘ ̵̨̡̢̯̙̳̰̻͍̬̩̯̞͙̳̼͉̦̳̭͑ẅ̶̫́̄̈̀̐͠͠͝ȅ̶̢̧̧̛̬̖̣̮̥̙̙͎͈̣̻̖̟̼͉̪͆̈͊̔̐̑̑͐̈́̋́̿͆̀́͋̽̓̒́̕ȓ̵̡̛̘̖̫̥̍̾͐̽̀̊̀̏̓̅́́̌̚͠͝͠è̶͙͓̝͓̙͙̘̗̤͒͗̿̉̆͛̅̚̕͠ ̸̨̢̺͓͖͉͕̻̺̩̘̘͈̠̰̗̩̰̪̭͍̦̼̝́̅͌̌͂̑̂̂̕͜ŗ̸͍̺̘̮͈̳̘̩̥͈̘̫͔̯̫̂͂͝ơ̸̡̨̨̥̖̼͙̬̦͖̣͔͕̟͉̿̊̓̑̈́̊́̔̏̉̀͌̓̍̈́̾o̸̧̢̢̡͉̻̮̱͚̟̻̬̺̙̞̺͖̼͔̼͎̼̭̻͓͉̓m̷̡̗͓̥̝͇̲̮͈͇̟̪̥̜͕̖͈͇͖̪͎̠̫̍͛̅̑̏̿̃̿́̒̈́̈́́́̆̉̀̔̀͆͒͘͝͠͝͝ͅâ̸̧̡̹̥͕̙̦̥̥̳̳̣͎͔̗͕̗̬̹̥̦̘͈̲͉̇̔͊̔̀͂̆͊̄̔̒̉̐͛̓͑̀̌͊̚̚̚̚͜͝͠͝͝ͅͅt̵̨̨̡̳͙̬̬͔̙̮͖͇̻̟̣̝̼͈̝̫̠̖̝̬̳̟͙͐̆̍̽̎̈̉̉́̀͐̋̔̚̚͝ȩ̷̬̬̹̺̜̪̭͖͖̼̯̲̘͚̬̖̱́̋͐͒͑͑̄͑̅̎̉̓́͆̏͘͝͝ŝ̸̩̰̪̙̄ͅͅ ̷̧̺̱͓̖̠͕͔̠̩̹̫̥͙̙͔̥͇͌̓̈́̈́̃̍͐͠Ơ̸̟̘̪͍̝̠͂͑̂͌̆̃̂͛́̿̈́̎̈́̀̑̌͐͐̅̒̿͘̕͜m̷̨̨̡̛̛͚͙͈͔͆̂̋̄͑̃̐̊̆̈́͘g̵̛͇͇̬̲̭̹̺̅̎̔̈̆̿͋̾̾͊̎̾͛̈́̄̐́̓͂̀̊̈́͑̚ ̴̡̓̑́͆͋͐̽̍́̓̌̂̽̈̇̓͂͑̽̆͘t̴̡̧̝̩̹͍̤̜̜̆h̵̢͓͔̼̘̪̱͓͉̻͈͔̱̄͂͛͜è̸̛͉̂̉͌̋̃̈́̉͐̆́̈́̓͘̚͝ỵ̵̺̬̗̯̭̙̜̩͈͙̝̽́͒̾̍̐̐̇͒͐̓̋̈̓́̑̒͐̅͌́̅̋̚̚̚͠ ̸̨͚̠̼̭̘̬͎̆̀̓̌̒͌̆̇́͑͗̈́͘͠ẃ̷̢̢̨̡̛̼̭̮͇̫̘̺̻̠̻̟͇͇̥̮͓̤̤̗̲̲̻̐̐̈͑͆͗͂̈́̊̈́̉̈́̽̃͆̌͋͛̚͘͘ę̸͇̝̤̝̗̦̭̤̼͚͓̫̦̟͔̘̳̳̪͙̱̝̗͓̝̇̎̓́̅́̒̃͂̄̈͐̔̔͆̅͛̚͜͝ͅr̴̢̧̖͙̗̹̱͇͉͎̩̤͇͙͕̺͈̟̥͓̼̉̇͗̐̓̏͋̿̍̒͑͌͂͂̀̎̽̉̉͑͗͛̋͘͘͜͠͝͝ͅe̶̙̗̳̙̩͙͇͋̃͜͜ ̵̢̨̧̛̬̮̱͎̳̪̞̫͈̖̲̮̣̝͔͙͔̩̲̝͙͇͍͆̃̈́̒͛͛̒̊͌̀́̇͌̀̕͜͠r̵̹̱͇̝̥̥͓̬̲̭͈͎̬̞̊̈́̉̇̀̍̀̈͑̕͜͝͠͝o̵̢̻͈̪̭̺̪̲͔͒͗̀̉̋̇̈̉̂̑̔̐̀̈́̓͌͆͗̇͆̑̽͊͘͝͝͠ǫ̵͎̫͖̰̣͕̭͚̲̣̣̮͖͔̳̗̹͔̠̼̻̈́̓͑͆̇̀̀̈́̽̊͆͒͒̋͋̉̈́̽̆̍͂̅̃̂͝͠͝m̶̛̬͉̫̘͔̟̗̬̫͚̬͋͛̅̓̒̉̋͛̈́̈́ä̸̧̨̛͍͚͕̹̯̪͍̗̫̰́̑̊̑̽̊͗́̽͘̚̕̚͝t̷̢̧̢̤̘̠͎̮̙̟͕̯̤̘̹̲͖̥͛̂̉̊̀̊̆̃̇͜͝͝ͅȩ̵͉͊͊͒́͌̅͘s̶̡̛͖̫͐̔̿͐̃͛̐̿̈́̅̑̈́̈́͑͂͐̋͛̿̈́̒̇̕͝
-̷̣̦̞̭̗̹̲͔̱̖̻͚͓̞̩̬̜̳̰̟̭̱̺͈͔͆͑̈́͛͐̈́̉͗̿͗̆̉́̾̆͋̑̿̾͐̄̍́̔̇̽̄̋̂͒̒͐̇̒̈́̅̋̓͗̿͒̽̄̚̕͘͘͝͝͝͝á̶̢̨̨̦̺̺̰͓̭̦̥̺̺͕̼͇̣̻̟͔̰̟͉͚̺͓͙̜̫̩̖̦̹̤̹͙̞̗͈̤͎̣͎̞̊͐͜͜͠ͅb̴̛̖̭̬̯̺͉̦͈͈̏̓̒̋̐̂̀̃̃͆̾̑̒̽̈̈́̾͆̀͆́́̔̐̔̌̔̓̏̏͊̋̉̚͠b̵̧̪̱̪̮̱͙̙̻̦̜͕̦̹̟̌̈̔̂̿̓̋͌̀̀͌̎͌̄̈́̓͑̓̇͒͑̆̔̄̋͂̾̄͗͐̕͝ͅę̴̛̹̟͚̰̲͇̤̫̲͑̽̊́̊̍͛̀̾̊͛͒̊͛̈́̒̆́́͌̽̎͂͒̂͘͝ŗ̷̢̛̖͖̳͖̻̙͚̺̑́̍͒̇̀͒̊̄̔̄͆̅̈̐̆̒̔̂̇̒̉̈́̉̃̅̒̄̈́̅́͊̓̕̕͝͠͝ ̷̙̺̥̰͈̥̹̒̔̉̍̓̃̀̑́̆́͊̐̑̄̊͋͌̀́̔͘̕͝ą̴̡̢̖͈̹͎͚̯̰̦̳͖͙̟̩̯̲͎̀̒̒̊͆̓̄̆͘ͅr̶̡̢̛̛̙̜̖͕̯̹̻͈͇͙̝̫͈̻̹͍͓̯̼̹̞̘͍͚̪̻̀̐̇̀̊͌͑̈́̿̑̑̈̄̐́̾̂͐͋͐̋͜͝͝é̸̢̧̛̙̳̭͈̫͙͖̖͈̣̯͖̥̻̬̤̜̺͇͓̭̄̊̀̈̓̊̇̑̌̊̈́͆̊̈̅̿̊̈́̾̉̿̇͗͒́̐͋̽͋̀̐̇̂̇̍́͆̎͆́̕͘͘̕̕̚͝͠ ̴̨̨̡̧̧͓̬̼̭̬̪̹̠̰̬͈̳̹̭̘̼͍̹͚̤̰̟̻̦̥͈̻̘̥̪͎̼̪̙̇̈̊͐̑̈́̀̏̄͋̀͋̈́͑̉͐̋́̐̐͘͘͘͜͜͠ͅy̸̳͗̆̾̕ŏ̴̡̡̡͕͚̘̞̱͖͖͈͈̮̦̮̻͔͛̍̿̃̂́̀̌̓̅͗͊͊̉͆̎̓̿̚̚͝͝͝ų̸̡̧̢͓͎̥̲͈͎͕̰͍͇̗̰͚̣͖̲̠̤̩̭͓͓̤̩̙̜͇͔̰̥̥̜̣̭̫͉̻̹͚͈̪̭̆̒͆̿́̄͐͆̍͂͒́̋͛͑͊͗͗̏͜͜͝͝͝ͅͅͅ ̴̛͔̄̑̊́͑͗̈̈́̓̔̐̈͛͒̀̎̐̑̿͒̄̄̄̂̆̑̋͋͊̽̌̈́̎͜͠͝͝͠͠͝͝͠ḷ̷̢̧̼̼͔̬̠̜͔̖̩͙̟̬̠̙͕̜͓̺̲̣̫̥̫͔̙͙͎̼̣͈͙̝͎͉͈͇͈͔̦͙̦̺̫̖̳͔̅̀̐̓́͆̽̈́̏̔͂͆͌͌̊̆̉̈́̐͘͜͝ơ̸̡̧̨̛͚̪͎̹̠̖̙͉͈͔̹̩̞̩̒͛̀̋̄̓̽̄̏̀̊̾͐́̌͐̎́͋̃̾̏̒̈́̍͑͋̉̄̐̅́̽͂̌̃͑̋̆͑͊͘̚̚̚̚͝͝͠s̸̻̯̥̭͇̥̤̣̫̩͓̋͊́̒t̷̡̡̢̧̲̫̗͙̬͔̺̥̞̹̺̫̟̿̓̆͛̊̈́̋͜͝?̴̩̪͈̩̀̑̒̆̇͒̽͊͐̀̋̈͛̄̂̒͑̐̽̿́̿̀̏͛̍̽͋̏̓̋̓̋́͊͆̽̄͑̑̐͛͑͘̚̚͘͝͠͝͝ ̸̧̡͔̻̟̜͍̗͙͓̬̹̲̪̟̖͙̟̘̙͓̙͉͓̘͚̈́́͂*̴̗̥̃̓͐̇͊̉̂̔̓̋̀͂͆̇̉̚͜b̷̨̛̦͕̝̳͓͙͕̝͙̺̦͉̝̗̱̮̟̊͑̅̒̾̌̏͑̿̍̊̈͐̋́̆̈̃̓̽̈́̇̏̽͒z̴̺̲͇̖̳̻̲̋̈́̏̅́͗̑̈́̊͑̐͗̈́̅͑̑͂͊̐̂̍̚͘z̵̧̡͇̜͎̺̝̞͖̜̙̯̟̖̗̠̺̙͕̘̳̿͑̀͛̌̑̔̿̆̈́́̾͋̀̊̈́̍̈̓̽̔̃̀̉̿͛͘͜͠͝ͅͅt̷̡͈̗̤̰͇͕͉͇̒̏̎̋͑̄̈͌̊͂̃͊̾̿̀͑̑͑̈́́̾̈̋̿̌͛͘̕͜*̷̢̛̛͈̲̣̭̺̭̮̗͕̳̗̮͕̘͍̮̺̰̺̼̯̞͚͌͒̓̒̉́̿̉͆̎̂͛̾͂̋̏̿̀͛̏̾͜͝ ̵͕̗́̾́̒̊̃́̈͑̈́̈́̌̐͝ ̶̟͔̫̱̯̹̮̞̙͈̗̫̠̰͈̰̔͜.̸̧̡̛̭̬͔̞̝̹͙̣̱͍̬̖̮͋̉͂̎̾͛̓͒̀͊̉͗̿͒͒̄̾̏́͋̏̕͘̕͘̕͝͝.̵̧̪̖̞̳̭̠̗̝̱͇̬̙̪̟̻̲͔͖͈̰̞̼͚͗̄̐̽̾͑̑̀̄̿͑̾͊̃̄̕̕͜.̷̛̪͓̜̭̝͚̳̭͔̩̗̩͚̥̳̺̼̮̝̟̹̥̮̗̻̮̈́̈́͗̓̾̀̐́̽̆̈́̊͒̕͠ͅ ̵̡̢̨̧̛̞̻̯̳̞̪̙̱͎͍̞̞̦͙̻̬̓̄͊̓͌̾̈́͛͝͠Ì̵̢̨͎͎̬͎͕̩̳̖̬̣̤̳͇͎̅͐͆̍͋̅̃͛̈͊̉̓̕͝ͅ ̶̛̣̯̞̝̤̲̻͇͕̭̮̂́̃̽̅̐̋͂̊̃̽͗̕̕͘̕s̶̡̧̛͖͉͍̠̘̦̥̠̹̮̰̪̹̱̺͈̲̮̗͕͚̬̊̒̒̅̓͑̀̇͒͐̿͆̈́̑͌̀̔͝ͅm̸̞͆̏̿̾͗͛͒͗̍͊̈́͌̊̕̚̚ę̴̢̛̛̬̭̖̘̦̩̳̻͈̼͎̝̘̲͕̫͍̱̇̍̈́̾͊́̽͗̋͋̕̕͜l̵̢͙̜̻̟̼͖̹̰̯̲̘͉͇̩̟̗̩̥̞̫̬̫͕̼̫̑̈́̉͗̀̐̌͋̾̓̀̍̏̚̚͘̕ͅĺ̸̢͓̥̭̻̞̪̰͙̦̙̪͈̲͕̙̗̦̬͙̮̪̼̪̥͖̞̟̲͆͑͘ ̵̙͔̤̤̪̅̾̃͋̈́̂̈̌̾̾͛̒̑͐̈̿̔̏̚͘͘̚͝͝l̶̡͇͕͕̻̺̮̪̼̩̜̰̗͈̤̠̝̼̥̈́̍̓̃͛̽̾̍i̸̧̢̢̢̨̨̛͖̤̣̲̙̲͇̮͉̮̪̺̞̐̀̉̒̂̐̈́̐̔͌͑̏̚̚ḱ̶̢̢̧̗̘͉͎̼͎̮̰̲̬̭̫͕̦͖͔̙͆͛̍͒́͋̈́͗̓̿͜ȩ̴̧̤͎̤̮̠̱̰͕̮͙͓̪̺̫͌͂̽͑̊̅́̔̍͜ ̴̢̧̡̨̳͓̱̦̦̳̹̞͉̜̟̜̬͔̖͖̠̫̥̤̥̈̄͛̉́̾̉͂́̾̓͛̃̂̍̾́̅̏̚̕̚ͅb̶̜̀̿̋̉̈́̐͐̔͋̎͝ę̸̟͓̱̣̥͓͙̭̼̜͓̱̠̪͎̼̰̹̰͇͍͕̖͓̖͔̱̯͋̈́̓͒̇ę̸̡̧̧͔̩̼̞͉̮̼̤͔̫̱̩̺̹̪̯͓̰͙̇̅͛̀̊̈́͛͒͌̀̋͐̓̆̓̌̐̈́̈́̏̇͘͝f̷̨̲̻̬̯̳͎̙̥̣͕̻̣͔̣̼̦̦̱̫̗͖̋̾̌̑́̊̿̒̊͜͝ͅ
̷̟̬̼̫͚͇̍̅̎̐s̴̛̫̫̣̠̟̪̗̖̻̀̐̄̃͋̅̓̑̾̈́́́̽̕͘ͅk̶̠̗͓̣͔̙̮͖͇̟̉͜ͅr̴̢̺̭̻̝̬̱̈̽͠ŗ̴̪̘͕͆̏̊ẗ̷̸̢̨̨͇̠̝̱̹̤̰̪̪͖̘͕͍̖̰̆́̓̀͗͗̃̓̓̅̽̑͑̀̇̔̄̄̕͠ͅͅ ̷̢̛̺̠̳̈́͊̌̄͑̓̓̉́̀̔̐̏̆͝ ̴̡̹͖͙̥̜̜̖͉̻͔̩͚̌̋́̌͝ͅͅ -̷̡̤͚̮͇̥͕̤͓̞̠͙̜̒͑͋͑͒̓́̚ͅe̷͔̜̬̿̿͐͐̉̓̈̚͝ÿ̶̧͉̖̦͎͍͇̮̻͕̘̮̜͚́͜ͅ ̷̨̡̮̘͖̞͓̊̾͜R̷̛̪̭̖̗̼̓̎̒̇̉̈͐͗͆̕i̷̢̜̦͕͔͈̜͍̱͕͋͑̏̋̈́̍̀͂̾͋̆̕͘̚͝ỳ̸̺̗̪̣́̿́̊̽̎̒ǫ̸̡̩͍̗̠͔̟̟̟̯̲̫̐̆̓͂́͜͝ ̵̭̅̉̓̿́̈̾̀̋̏͛̐̇̚͠͝d̶̨̪̜̤̞͔̪̳́͋̿̒̃̈́̄̀̇̽̔i̸̛͈̲̪͍̰̭̗͍͖̭̲̬̖̒̔̈́̍͋̑͆̋̈́̒͗̓͜͝͝ḑ̶́̈́̏̌̀̄̐̍̄̋͝͝ ̴̞̞̜̫̘̪̙̤̯͙̹̎́̉̄͋͑̕ͅÿ̷̹̱̟̻̱͖̹͎̖̬̠̮͈́̉́̓̒ớ̸̧̡̨̮̪͍͔̪̞̼̫̦̪͔͚̩̂̃̂ừ̴̡͈͕͉̖̩̫͖͖̬͔͔͖͓̪̘̉̈́̄̄́̽̀̓̌̕͝ ̵̛̺͚͎̝̦̹͇̱̺̲̼̘̹̱̔̒̅̈̊̀͋̃́͐͋͌̋̆̚ͅͅf̷̲̻̻͓̠̭̯̲̰̋͗̔̆͛͠ǐ̴̡̔̔̐͛̋͋̈́͗̍͠ṋ̸̜̄͌͌̄̃͐̎̎̍͂̑͌̑̑̚ḯ̷̲ś̶̛̩̤̮̮ḩ̷̢̛̦͔̙͕̯̠̙̗̯͉̫͙̓́̍̒̋̌́̏͑͋̌̉ ̴̮͈̺͍̇̒u̸͈̮̤͕͚̫̲̱̪̬̲͓̒͊͊p̴̨̾̿̈̆̃̏͘ ̶̢̪͙̞̼̠̫͈̪͇͔̹̲͙͓̬̏͗́̽͛̒̾͑͘͠a̸̢͔̙̪̻̟͔̝̒̒̃̊͋͐̽̑͆͐͛̓̎͠͝ľ̶̛̤̱̞̩̼̰̘͌̑̆̏̄̕͝͝r̷̠͈̿͗̂̉̆̃̃͌e̵̛̤͙͈̰̟̠̳͍̭͍͉̭̲̍̍̂́̽̒͜ͅa̷̘̝̟̾̓̉̔̈́̉̒̕͘͝ḑ̸̱̱̝̞̺͔̰̽̽͝͝ͅy̵̮̱̗͙̳̖̬̫̦͉̪͎̑̾͋̄͠͝-̸̼̤́͐͋͐́̈́̀̒
-̸͖̋ó̸͍̰͍̀r̸̜̯̱͐̈́̓g̷̭̮͛́͘ͅō̵̖̟̥̽͝t̵̂ͅ ̶̨̫̺̕t̵̮͖̗͐̒ḩ̴̘͌ĕ̷̓͜ ̶͇̙̗̈́͆͂g̶̊͋͜r̶̼̙͂͋o̶̬͇̱̓̽c̶̹̞̆͒͘e̶̱̭̔̐r̶̛͕͓̊͐y̶͔̹͗̽ ̶͎̻͠l̶͖͙̍͐i̸͖̇ș̷̨̝̑̍t̸̜̥̿̈́̒ ̴̫̪͊͝c̷̰̼̎̀͘a̸̗͚̓͂͜ñ̶̜̻ ̶̨̮̝͐̐ỳ̴̥ố̵͔̖͗ư̶̲̩̭
D̵͕̰͗i̶̧͓̽͗d̸̯̃̇ ̷̠͛I̶̭͇̕ ̵̝͗l̷̢̲͊e̶̺͊a̴͍̓̾ṽ̵̧̺ȅ̷͎͠ ̵̼͌t̴̳̉͑ȟ̶̜͂ê̴̥̖m̸̲͛̀ ̷̜͐å̸̤t̶͈͑-̸̭̘̔͘ ̵̤͍́
W̸a̴i̴t̵ ̶d̵i̵d̶ ̸y̸o̶u̶ ̷s̴e̶n̷d̵ ̸m̴e̷ ̶t̵h̵i̷s̷?̶
Y̸e̶p̴!̸ Happy Birthday!
What could possibly fit in a box this size?
Tehehe I guess you'll have to find out-
creak
Gountess' little fragment of peace was shattered as the doors to his container opened. The slice of sunlight cutting through the delicate hint of happiness and dragged him from the riverbank back into a stiff and aching body. Back to reality.
A very long time ago sunshine was not only a welcome sensation but a joyous one at that. Now the sunlight only filled him with dread as it could only mean one thing.
Mymo was here.
He looked at briefly at Mymo's face before his gaze settled on the empty space next to the man. He really didn't want to deal with the megalomaniac right now but he was wise enough to know what he wanted didn't really matter.
It wasn't stubbornness that made Gountess refuse to acknowledge the other's approach, it was the weariness of a wounded animal that could no longer scrounge up the energy for vigilance. Although he desperately wanted to return to the riverbank Gountess knew the endeavor would be fruitless, there would be no chance for him to slip away anytime soon. He was too honed in on the danger approaching.
There was a screech as a metal chair was unfolded before being gently placed on the floor directly in front of Gountess. The relief of Mymo settling in the chair hardly had time to fester before it was cruelly crushed by the sound of a bag being plopped on the ground. Gountess may not have been forced to be living furniture today but the maniac bringing any sort of accoutrement was never good.
Mymo could turn him into many things; an accessory, a spy, a pawn or a mess to name a few. But the one Gountess hated above all was when Mymo made him into a plaything.
Even though he knew in the end it would be futile Gountess was determined to ignore the man for as long as possible.
"Aw, not going to greet me today?" Mymo mirthfully questioned "I go outta my way to visit you after I've had such a long day and not even a hello? You're going to break my heart."
Gountess hoped it wasn't obvious how hard he was gritting his teeth.
"If anyone else gave me this attitude I'd turn right back around and leave to find something better to do, you're soooooo lucky you're my favorite~" Mymo cooed "Because no matter what I'll always find time to spend with you~."
"…"
"Anyways I bet you've been wondering what I've been up to since our last little chat and honestly it's nothing too crazy just the usual interviews, radio shows and reports y'know the same boring old stuff. So today I decided to do my weather report outside, I know what a shock, but I didn't think it would be this arid today! You're lucky I keep you locked up so well, if you went outside right now you'd probably crumple into dust that's how dry it is." There was a faint pop of what Gountess presumed was chap-stick followed by a brief silence before Mymo started up again.
"I know drama isn't really your thing but the collaboration between Tundraux and Graffiti Grease fell through, they say its because they had creative differences-literally published a whole think piece about it-But it was actually because the vocalist from GG gave the theremin player from Tundraux syphilis, and it caused this huge shouting match; I wouldn't be surprised if they disbanded later on, both groups seemed to have a slew of issues but that's not even the worst part."
"The worst part is that no one is talking about it! I'm no gossip columnist but it's very frustrating because people care more about that stupid EP then most interesting thing that's happened during my week. Speaking of that EP you should really tell Too Lily that her naming skills need work, Featherfall doesn't really evoke the genre of her music, even if most people are too enamored by the new songs to complain. Usually you'd be able to tell what the fan favorite is by now but its currently pretty even if we're going by the amount of song requests I get, I swear every station is playing Too Lily 24/7. I know her fans think that you can never get too much Too Lily but shes not the only singer on the ground y'know."
Gountess couldn't believe that such ramblings used to make him feel appreciated, it was both astounding and nauseating. What a fool he was to feel important because busy Mymo would take time out of his crammed schedule to unload his worries and discuss trivial things like they were partners, In hindsight it was it should have been obvious that Mymo would never see anyone as his equal.
"Have you even been listening? I feel like I'm talking to a brick wall over here." Mymo pouted.
"Come on Gountess stop ignoring me." Mymo tried getting his attention by waving a hand in front of his face before leaning over to try getting in his line of sight but Gountess resolutely kept his gaze away.
"Come on I know you're just itching to tell me to shut up."
"Gountess~"
"Gountess Knock~"
"Gounty-Wounty it's rude to ignore people~"
"Gountess."
"Gountess."
"Gountess."
"Look at Me."
Gountess looked at Mymo.
He didn't get a choice anymore.
The maniac's grin widened at the forced attention, his thumb petting Elenhos in appreciation.
"See that wasn't so hard now was it?" purred Mymo but at the lack of a response his grin twitched.
"When I ask you a question you will answer. Understood?"
"I understand" Gountess effortlessly replied. Internally however he was seething. He hated how his voice showed no indication that his words were wrenched from his mouth, he hated that his voice would betray his thoughts, he hated that his voice was as frail as his body, he hated that he could no longer remember what his voice was like bereft of weakness. He hated this.
"Do you know why I'm here today?" Mymo asked
"No."
"I'm here to take care of you of course~" An icy wave of fear washed over Gountess at those words, he tried not to flinch, Showing fear would only encourage his captor.
"I'm so thoughtful aren't I?"
"Not really."
Mymo's grin shifted into a smirk causing Gountess feel like he fell for a trap.
"There's that bark again, and here I was thinking you were reduced to just bite" he cooed admiringly "This is why caring for you is so worth it."
Caring wasn't something Mymo did, at least not about anything other then his goals or amusement. Gountess was considered imperative to both.
Gountess' gaze was locked onto Mymo's hand as it reached towards the bag. His thoughts were going a mile a minute trying to decipher what the maniac meant by "taking care" of him, Gountess was still deemed useful so obviously it wasn't killing him.
Could he be here to change his tubing? Mymo had never done it before but maybe if he decided that the nurses weren't worth the hassle… but his captor would never risk any medical complications and it had been quite a while since he replaced the last one. Maybe he just wanted to feed him something? The man did always seem to enjoy how uncomfortable it made Gountess. Perhaps Mymo was here to cut his hair? It was past his shoulders now but Gountess desperately hoped that wasn't the case, the last time nearly broke him.
Mymo had only cut his hair twice during his imprisonment. The first time the man couldn't stop giggling as Gountess repeatedly thrashed away from Mymo's grip only to be recaptured with bruising force, more giggles poured out every time he would flinch when the scissors got to close to his face. At the time he didn't understand what was so funny but looking back on it he supposed seeing him so afraid of being hurt or killed could have have been amusing to Mymo who would make it quite clear that Gountess wasn't allowed to die without permission. Yet that first haircut was much nicer then the one that followed.
The last time Mymo cut his hair he brought a mirror.
The mirror itself was normal-a simple black framed standing mirror-but Gountess froze at the sight. Was that really what he looked like?
It was the first time seeing his reflection since becoming a captive, He looked more sickly then when he was suffering from heart disease. The skin was sallow and gaunt with deep bags under the sunken eyes that stared back at a face he didn't recognize, he looked like he had aged decades especially because his hair was now streaked with white. He couldn't stop staring at himself, trying to both catalogue and comprehend all the changes. If it wasn't for the sniping of scissors he would have forgotten Mymo was even there. His captors quiet concentration only served to make the atmosphere more eerie. It was only after he was finished returning the almost shoulder length hair back to its regular style that Mymo spoke.
"Do you like it?" was asked with surprising sincerity. Gountess could only stare at his reflection as a tear rolled down his face. Mymo hummed before taking the stray tear and placing it on his tongue, once he was done savoring the taste he had grabbed Gountess' chin and tilted it towards himself. After a moment of appraisal Mymo had taken off his glasses and to make direct eye contact and whispered "I quite like what I see".
Gountess had never been more terrified.
The sound of velcro ripped Gountess back to the present. In Mymo's hand was a small nail kit. Thankfully he seemed oblivious to the impromptu trip down memory lane but the way he brushed his fingers over the nail tools put Gountess on edge. He was mulling them over like an artist considering their paintbrushes or a torturer considering their tools.
"You remember our last chat don't you?"
"Ye-"
"That was rhetorical, I'm the one who allowed you to remember it after all."
Gountess debated on if it was worth it to point out he was only answering because of Elenhos but decided against it.
"Anyways as I was saying during our last chat you left quite the array of little kitten scratches on me, even managed to make me bleed! and I know what you're wondering 'Mymo already gave me my punishment why is he bringing this up now?' Well after thinking about it long and hard I realized that a responsible owner would have never let your nails get to that state, so I'm here to remedy that"
In a fit of stubbornness Gountess clenched his fingers against the arm rests as Mymo scooted forward with the nail clippers. Mymo had no trouble prying up his left pinkie finger-cutting it nearly to the quick-but had much more difficulty with his ring finger.
"Come on whats got you so riled up? Was it because I brought up the whole forgetting thing? I know it upsets you but I was just stating facts."
Not being in control of his own memories did upset Gountess a lot but that wasn't what made him dig his heels in.
"You're not my owner."
"Now we both know that's not true." Mymo chuckled, they both did but only one of them was interested in denying it.
After a brief struggle his finger was pried up and clipped but after still finding resistance when going to the next one Mymo sighed and leaned back in his chair.
"This would go a lot quicker if you stopped being so defiant."
"Go to hell." Gountess growled
"…"
Mymo's smile twitched.
"You will not move unless I tell you."
His body instantly locked up as the order was spoken, forcing Gountess to struggle to even grit his own teeth. He glared at Mymo with all the venom he could muster, while the man in question looked smugly at his handiwork before leaning in close. However, instead of picking up his middle finger to resume the manicure, Mymo's hand went past Gountess' to land on his restraints.
If Gountess could feel anything other then dread then he might have been grateful that his inability to move meant that he was trembling instead of quaking with fear, but the terror that ran through him was all consuming.
Nothing good happened when his restraints were undone. It meant suffering.
It meant either forgetting and wishing he could remember or remembering and wishing he could forget, it meant not knowing if his nightmares were lost memories or figments of his imagination, it meant not knowing if the phantom sensations of hands were from reliving forgotten torment or a torment concocted entirely by his tattered mind, it meant not knowing bruises from bedsores, it meant a stinging scalp, it meant being wracked with sobs that bore no tears, it meant feeling every iota of weakness in his pathetic body, It mean wishing to go back to a home that no longer existed.
The telltale disgust at being touched unintentionally broke Gountess from his panic, forcing his attention back to Mymo. The man in question held his hand in a way that could almost be misconstrued as gentlemanly, shifting the fingers to observe each individual nail. Mymo made a hum of consideration before positioning the clippers.
Through the waves of revulsion that emanated from the touch Gountess tried to ground himself, counting each snip of his nails like his life depended on it. He knew it was dumb but his mutilated hope flickered once his last nail was cut.
"Look how easy that was without you fighting me every step of the way" Mymo patted his hand before crushing the flicker of hope by pulling out a nail file.
"We could have finished with this already if you weren't so stubborn."
Gountess was a fool to think this would be over so soon, Mymo didn't have a single merciful bone in his body even when it came to something as mundane as ncutting nails.
Once he started working on the cuticles Mymo decided to break his own uncharacteristic bout of silence.
"What were you thinking about before?" Mymo asked.
"Before what?"
"Before I came in today what were you thinking about?"
"Babbling brooks" was the forced response.
Mymo raised an eyebrow.
"That's it?"
"I was also thinking about rivers and their sounds"
The clarification seemed to confuse him but he quickly unfurrowed his brows and began chattering again.
"Well I guess you do have a lot of time to think, so I guess it makes sense that you would end up thinking about random stuff." Mymo said with a huff before packing up the nail kit and placing it in his bag. Unfortunately instead of packing up and leaving he pulled out a pair of clementines.
"Do you remember having these for the first time?"
"Yes."
The nostalgic smell of citrus hit the air as Mymo dug his thumb into the peel.
"You asked me if they were baby oranges, it was so cute, but it was kinda annoying how quickly you got the hang of peeling these things, it took you like what? Three of these before you could take off the whole rind in those neat little spirals."
Gountess could hardly wonder what Mymo was trying to accomplish with this reminiscing before the man in question slapped his own forehead.
"What am I doing, peel these for me."
Gountess could feel the atrophied muscles in his back protest at being forced towards the offered fruit. Once they were within his grasp he felt the smallest bit of freedom return to his hands, he started with the one that Mymo had already dug into and gingerly placed the other onto his lap, even with the wires sticking out of his forearms the motions still held a sense of familiarity.
Despite his new task Gountess' gaze was still fixed on the other man, he chose to believe that it was because of Mymo's previous order rather than his instinctual urge to try and decipher his captor's mood. Rationally he knew that was pointless, Mymo's feelings were unintelligible even before he showed his true colors.
The peeled clementine was placed into Mymo's awaiting palm before Gountess started on the other one. He tried to just focus on braking the fruits skin with his barley there fingernails, but his thoughts kept trying to puzzle out why Mymo was here. Gountess was already told the surface reason but there had to be more to it right? This was frightfully mundane, he couldn't be looking for information he was drawing it out too long, was it just for his amusement? it seemed unlikely since it lacked the viciousness that Mymo usually had when toying with Gountess, did Mymo just come here to keep him on edge? Or was it just a whim?
The frustration at his propensity to overthink didn't get a chance to sink in before Gountess felt the peel fully detach from the fruit.
Gountess attempted to savor the sensation of freedom in his arms before he was rudely interrupted by Mymo snatching the fruit away from him prematurely. With the order finished Gountess had nothing to do but glare as the man pulled apart the segments to lazily place in his mouth.
Gountess didn't see any indication but he could sense the second the atmosphere turned from tense to dangerous.
Mymo was suddenly very close to his face.
"Open your mouth"
As soon as the order was followed Mymo shoved half the clementine into his mouth. Gountess wasn't told to close his mouth so the fruit was awkwardly held on his tongue while Mymo restrained him once more. After testing the handcuffs Mymo sat back down and chuckled at his plight.
"Go ahead chew and swallow~"
Gountess wished that it tasted terrible, that it wasn't delightful to taste something other then his own mouth, that he had to suppress a pleased noise when the sweet juices burst on his tongue. His lips were prodded with another piece of fruit but despite how he craved more he kept his lips sealed shut.
"How'd it taste?"
"It was fin-ack!" As soon as he open his mouth Mymo had shoved the fruit in.
"Sorry what was that? I couldn't hear what you said"
"I said it taste-AwuGK!" This time when more food was forced down his throat he nearly choked and was caught between the awful sensation of trying to cough while being forced to swallow.
After hacking an out a couple coughs Gountess was left panting while Mymo looked on in amusement. While trying to catch his breath Mymo went to shove more fruit in but this time Gountess' instincts kicked in and bit down hard on the intruding fingers.
"Oh hoho there's that bite again!" Mymo laughed.
The mirth in Mymo's voice only served to piss of Gountess causing him dig his teeth even deeper to elicit some sort of pained reaction.
Instead Gountess let out a muffled whimper as his hair was roughly grabbed and pulled at a painful angle, but the surprise wasn't enough to unlatch his teeth from the fingers. Mymo had the nerve to look completely unbothered even as his grip became harsh enough that tears pricked in the corners of Gountess' eyes.
The man leaned in close enough that Gountess could almost see his reflection in Mymo's glasses. He felt the fight drain out of him, to spare himself the pitiful sight of his faltering expression he closed his eyes and spat out the fingers.
Looking smug as ever Mymo popped the last bit of clementine into his own mouth, and wiped his spit covered fingers against Gountess' shirt, as if that saliva was somehow more disgusting then the spit covered fruit he just swallowed.
Mymo didn't take his hand off of Gountess' chest.
Instead it moved to trace over his sternum. It took a second for Gountess to realize he was tracing over his surgical scar.
"Y'know when you were sewn up after your heart replacement I thought to myself 'wow I can't believe this guy's heart is beating because of me', then I thought about how exciting it would be to own you heart, body, mind, and soul."
Mymo's finger tapped agist his chest in imitation of a heartbeat.
"But recently I've come to realize that once I become ruler everyone's thoughts will become my thoughts and that might get a bit boring after a while, so once everything is said and done I'll let you keep your mind."
Mymo lifted his hand to pet Gountess' hair and leaned down to his ear
"That way I can play with you forever."
Seemingly satisfied Mymo backed away and headed towards the door. However before he left he turned back to Gountess one more time.
"Oh! before I forget, solid white hite suits you much better then streaked hair."
With that little tidbit Gountess was finally left alone.