Post by Nakki on Mar 31, 2009 18:32:49 GMT -5
Hey guys, I'm back with another story about everyone's favorite insane, psychotic, homicidal psychodetonator Russian: Lev Tchaikovsky! 
Hooray!
This one is a drabble I wrote when contemplating possible endings for the site plot. It takes place after the whole 'plot' would have finished and such~ However, Lev has not been turned fully sane yet. Also, you get to meet his mom, kinda! Enjoy~
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“Lev?”
Lev turned his head to look at the man standing in the doorway. He was a young man, probably only about twenty-seven. He was dressed in the garb of an orderly; Lev was wearing a straitjacket. It was a situation well known to Lev Tchaikovsky, former psychic terrorist.
“…What?” he spat at the young man, his black-rimmed eyes narrowing. The young orderly took an uncertain step back, knowing Lev’s history.
“Um… do you remember when we asked you about your parents? You asked us to try and find them for you, remember?” the orderly said tentatively.
“Yes, I do,” Lev said with a roll of his eyes. “Kind of…” He turned away from the boy in distaste, making a note to himself to kill the person who put this more advanced Psi-Blocker in his head.
“Well… I’m not sure how you’ll react to this, but… we found them.”
Lev turned slowly, looking at the orderly incredulously. “You… found… them?”
The orderly, taking the lack of violence as a good sign, stepped farther into the room and pulled out the file folder he’d been holding behind his back. “Yes, Lev… we found your parents.” He knelt down to where Lev was sitting and set the file folder on the padded floor, opening it and taking out two documents held together with paperclips.
Lev watched with curious, glazed-over eyes as the orderly took one of them to flip through, the one with a photo of a blond-haired man on it. “Alexei Tchaikovsky, your father; an alcoholic, he held a white-collar job and was married to your mother Leonna for about two years before they had you. They divorced about twelve years after you were born, though.”
“Heh. They always argued horribly, I seem to remember,” Lev murmured, remembering watching their arguments.
“Alexei is dead, now; he died of early liver failure connected to his alcoholism. Your mother, however…” The orderly now took the other document; this one had a photo of a dark-haired woman with low-lidded, black-rimmed eyes and a beauty mark on one cheek. “Leonna is still alive. She changed her name back to Moravian, but we managed to find her and ask her to come here to see you.”
Lev started at the last part. “She’s- she’s coming here?” he asked suddenly, bewildered.
The orderly jumped back at Lev’s sudden movement, none too eager to get killed by the violent inmate. “Y-yes, Lev. She- Leonna’s right outside the door.”
Lev stood up suddenly, and the orderly stood as well. Lev pushed past the young man and looked out the small window in the door, and sure enough, the woman was standing just outside the door. She looked just as Lev remembered her: serious, dark, and cold. Her dark-rimmed eyes, which now had crows’ feet at their corners, roved around the hall, adding to the disapproving sneer on her face.
Lev backed away from the door, a nebulous expression on his face. He crossed the room again and faced the padded wall, resting his head against it. The orderly began to slip out- but Lev commanded:
“Tell her to come in.”
The orderly left the room meekly and walked to Leonna as he exited. “He’d like you to come in now, Ms. Moravian,” he said quietly.
“About time,” she muttered. “I didn’t take a ten hour flight just to wait even longer.” The orderly opened the door for her, and she walked in, her high heels pressing the padded floor down viciously.
She stood there, her fierce distaste radiating through the room. It was so strong that Lev’s head almost began to hurt because of the Psi-blocker trying to keep it in.
“Why did you call me here, then?” she asked angrily, glaring at the tall, bound man who was facing the wall. “Why have I been called out to an American hospital to talk with someone I don’t even know?”
“…But you do know me,” Lev whispered, standing up from his leaning position. He turned his head to look at Leonna again; it was almost like going back in time. She was exactly the same… and she hadn’t learned a thing. He turned away, a little intimidated by this woman.
“If I know you, why don’t I have any memory of you?” Leonna said, crossing her arms across her chest.
“Because you hated me. You didn’t want to remember me. Just like I didn’t want to remember you.”
She frowned, her face becoming all the more cold as she did so. “What do you mean?”
“…Do you remember when you lived in that small town in northern Russia, Ms. Moravian?” Lev asked. “You were a small time critic back then… you were married to Alexei… Tchaikovsky…”
Leonna’s face softened momentarily when Lev mentioned her late husband, but it quickly hardened again. “What are you going on about?”
Lev ignored the woman’s question. “Do you remember that town? Do you remember the places there? The church… the town hall…” he turned away from the wall finally, standing tall against it. “The orphanage…”
“Why are you rambling at me?” she asked, glaring at Lev disinterestedly.
“So that you understand. Now listen.” Lev took a wobbly step forward. “Do you remember that you had a son, Ms. Moravian? Do you remember that you were cruel to him? That it almost seemed like you didn’t care?”
“I don’t have a son.” Leonna took a defensive step back. Lev fancied that he could sense how deep this lie was.
“Then why is he standing before you?” Lev said drily, looking down at his mother as her eyes widened.
“You’re not my son,” she fairly yelled. Lev walked forward suddenly, coming right up in front of her. There was no trace of tolerance in his gaze.
“It’s alright. I hate you too.” Lev looked at Leonna contemptuously.
The woman looked up at him, anger and confusion on her face. “Why did you bring me here?” Her voice was soft and fluttery, and she seemed to be on the verge of crying. She was fighting to keep her anger and prevent herself from bursting into tears. This, in itself, was odd to Lev; he’d never known his mother to be very emotional at all.
“I brought you here… so you could see what you have wrought,” he hissed, glaring at her. “I’m going to tell you what I’ve gone through, because you didn’t want to keep a boy who had nothing wrong with him.”
“I was sent from orphanage to orphanage because no one wanted me, and then because I developed ‘anger problems.’ Then I was an outcast in society, an introvert for many years. Then, they clapped me into the first hellish asylum of eight of the damned hell holes, and finally, I have been clapped into another one just to have to face the woman who started this torture!” he roared at her all at once, rage burning in his eyes. Leonna cowered away from his anger, worried that something bad would happen to her very, very soon.
Outside, the orderly who’d ushered Leonna in started when he heard Lev yelling. He ran down the hall, shouting, “Back up, we need back up! He’s going to hurt her!!”
Lev paid no mind to his mother’s fear or the orderly’s yells. All he could think of were the years of injustice caused by his mother. “FOUR DECADES OF HELL! MY ENTIRE LIFE!” he yelled at her, looming over her ominously and writhing madly to try and free his arms from the straitjacket’s claustrophobic hold. “YOU DID THIS TO ME! YOU DID THIS!!”
The door burst open a moment later, and a wave of orderlies swarmed in. Lev gave an enraged cry and tried to kick them away as they restrained him, while a pair of orderlies hastily led Ms. Moravian from the room.
“Ms. Moravian, are you alright?” the orderly who’d been keeping the door asked her worriedly when he saw the tears that were going down her face.
Leonna looked up at him and glared. “I’m fine.” Then she looked away and wiped the tears from her face. She began to walk intently down the hall, her heels clacking against the floor.
Meanwhile, Lev was now fighting like the madman he was against the five orderlies holding him down, making ear-piercing screams as he flailed and kicked to the best of his ability. However, his yell was suddenly cut off with a strangulated noise when the skin of his neck was pierced by a hypodermic needle. Lev twitched and grunted, and finally fell limp. The orderlies backed away from him, and they exited quietly and quickly. However, if you’d had the presence of mind to listen after they closed the door, you may have heard what no one else did:
“…why did you do this… why, Mother…”
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awww, Lev, you're so angsty. XD
Hooray!This one is a drabble I wrote when contemplating possible endings for the site plot. It takes place after the whole 'plot' would have finished and such~ However, Lev has not been turned fully sane yet. Also, you get to meet his mom, kinda!
Enjoy~----------------------------------------------------------------
“Lev?”
Lev turned his head to look at the man standing in the doorway. He was a young man, probably only about twenty-seven. He was dressed in the garb of an orderly; Lev was wearing a straitjacket. It was a situation well known to Lev Tchaikovsky, former psychic terrorist.
“…What?” he spat at the young man, his black-rimmed eyes narrowing. The young orderly took an uncertain step back, knowing Lev’s history.
“Um… do you remember when we asked you about your parents? You asked us to try and find them for you, remember?” the orderly said tentatively.
“Yes, I do,” Lev said with a roll of his eyes. “Kind of…” He turned away from the boy in distaste, making a note to himself to kill the person who put this more advanced Psi-Blocker in his head.
“Well… I’m not sure how you’ll react to this, but… we found them.”
Lev turned slowly, looking at the orderly incredulously. “You… found… them?”
The orderly, taking the lack of violence as a good sign, stepped farther into the room and pulled out the file folder he’d been holding behind his back. “Yes, Lev… we found your parents.” He knelt down to where Lev was sitting and set the file folder on the padded floor, opening it and taking out two documents held together with paperclips.
Lev watched with curious, glazed-over eyes as the orderly took one of them to flip through, the one with a photo of a blond-haired man on it. “Alexei Tchaikovsky, your father; an alcoholic, he held a white-collar job and was married to your mother Leonna for about two years before they had you. They divorced about twelve years after you were born, though.”
“Heh. They always argued horribly, I seem to remember,” Lev murmured, remembering watching their arguments.
“Alexei is dead, now; he died of early liver failure connected to his alcoholism. Your mother, however…” The orderly now took the other document; this one had a photo of a dark-haired woman with low-lidded, black-rimmed eyes and a beauty mark on one cheek. “Leonna is still alive. She changed her name back to Moravian, but we managed to find her and ask her to come here to see you.”
Lev started at the last part. “She’s- she’s coming here?” he asked suddenly, bewildered.
The orderly jumped back at Lev’s sudden movement, none too eager to get killed by the violent inmate. “Y-yes, Lev. She- Leonna’s right outside the door.”
Lev stood up suddenly, and the orderly stood as well. Lev pushed past the young man and looked out the small window in the door, and sure enough, the woman was standing just outside the door. She looked just as Lev remembered her: serious, dark, and cold. Her dark-rimmed eyes, which now had crows’ feet at their corners, roved around the hall, adding to the disapproving sneer on her face.
Lev backed away from the door, a nebulous expression on his face. He crossed the room again and faced the padded wall, resting his head against it. The orderly began to slip out- but Lev commanded:
“Tell her to come in.”
The orderly left the room meekly and walked to Leonna as he exited. “He’d like you to come in now, Ms. Moravian,” he said quietly.
“About time,” she muttered. “I didn’t take a ten hour flight just to wait even longer.” The orderly opened the door for her, and she walked in, her high heels pressing the padded floor down viciously.
She stood there, her fierce distaste radiating through the room. It was so strong that Lev’s head almost began to hurt because of the Psi-blocker trying to keep it in.
“Why did you call me here, then?” she asked angrily, glaring at the tall, bound man who was facing the wall. “Why have I been called out to an American hospital to talk with someone I don’t even know?”
“…But you do know me,” Lev whispered, standing up from his leaning position. He turned his head to look at Leonna again; it was almost like going back in time. She was exactly the same… and she hadn’t learned a thing. He turned away, a little intimidated by this woman.
“If I know you, why don’t I have any memory of you?” Leonna said, crossing her arms across her chest.
“Because you hated me. You didn’t want to remember me. Just like I didn’t want to remember you.”
She frowned, her face becoming all the more cold as she did so. “What do you mean?”
“…Do you remember when you lived in that small town in northern Russia, Ms. Moravian?” Lev asked. “You were a small time critic back then… you were married to Alexei… Tchaikovsky…”
Leonna’s face softened momentarily when Lev mentioned her late husband, but it quickly hardened again. “What are you going on about?”
Lev ignored the woman’s question. “Do you remember that town? Do you remember the places there? The church… the town hall…” he turned away from the wall finally, standing tall against it. “The orphanage…”
“Why are you rambling at me?” she asked, glaring at Lev disinterestedly.
“So that you understand. Now listen.” Lev took a wobbly step forward. “Do you remember that you had a son, Ms. Moravian? Do you remember that you were cruel to him? That it almost seemed like you didn’t care?”
“I don’t have a son.” Leonna took a defensive step back. Lev fancied that he could sense how deep this lie was.
“Then why is he standing before you?” Lev said drily, looking down at his mother as her eyes widened.
“You’re not my son,” she fairly yelled. Lev walked forward suddenly, coming right up in front of her. There was no trace of tolerance in his gaze.
“It’s alright. I hate you too.” Lev looked at Leonna contemptuously.
The woman looked up at him, anger and confusion on her face. “Why did you bring me here?” Her voice was soft and fluttery, and she seemed to be on the verge of crying. She was fighting to keep her anger and prevent herself from bursting into tears. This, in itself, was odd to Lev; he’d never known his mother to be very emotional at all.
“I brought you here… so you could see what you have wrought,” he hissed, glaring at her. “I’m going to tell you what I’ve gone through, because you didn’t want to keep a boy who had nothing wrong with him.”
“I was sent from orphanage to orphanage because no one wanted me, and then because I developed ‘anger problems.’ Then I was an outcast in society, an introvert for many years. Then, they clapped me into the first hellish asylum of eight of the damned hell holes, and finally, I have been clapped into another one just to have to face the woman who started this torture!” he roared at her all at once, rage burning in his eyes. Leonna cowered away from his anger, worried that something bad would happen to her very, very soon.
Outside, the orderly who’d ushered Leonna in started when he heard Lev yelling. He ran down the hall, shouting, “Back up, we need back up! He’s going to hurt her!!”
Lev paid no mind to his mother’s fear or the orderly’s yells. All he could think of were the years of injustice caused by his mother. “FOUR DECADES OF HELL! MY ENTIRE LIFE!” he yelled at her, looming over her ominously and writhing madly to try and free his arms from the straitjacket’s claustrophobic hold. “YOU DID THIS TO ME! YOU DID THIS!!”
The door burst open a moment later, and a wave of orderlies swarmed in. Lev gave an enraged cry and tried to kick them away as they restrained him, while a pair of orderlies hastily led Ms. Moravian from the room.
“Ms. Moravian, are you alright?” the orderly who’d been keeping the door asked her worriedly when he saw the tears that were going down her face.
Leonna looked up at him and glared. “I’m fine.” Then she looked away and wiped the tears from her face. She began to walk intently down the hall, her heels clacking against the floor.
Meanwhile, Lev was now fighting like the madman he was against the five orderlies holding him down, making ear-piercing screams as he flailed and kicked to the best of his ability. However, his yell was suddenly cut off with a strangulated noise when the skin of his neck was pierced by a hypodermic needle. Lev twitched and grunted, and finally fell limp. The orderlies backed away from him, and they exited quietly and quickly. However, if you’d had the presence of mind to listen after they closed the door, you may have heard what no one else did:
“…why did you do this… why, Mother…”
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awww, Lev, you're so angsty. XD