Prose Laboratories (V. 1 Pt. 7)
"Please, follow me," SalingerTwain says. He leads me past the couches and opens a door into an office with windows showing the city's skyline. He adjusts the collar os his grey sweater and sits down.
"You have an incredible connection with these dragons of yours. I wonder how they may have turned out if The Machine had worked? But enough of that, I have an offer to propose to you," SalingerTwain speaks to me. "I would like you to join us for the time being. You have a connection to your creations unlike any of the other writers who created animals or people with The Machine. I also can recreate The Machine, and hopefully, experiment with my hypothesis about your connection to your creations." He wants me, an ordinary person, to join the Quartet? Would the Quartet become the Quintet? Or would I be an anonymous helper?
"I would love to? But what about my job? I enjoy quite a great deal."
"We can convince them to accept it as a temporary leave of illness - reason mental illness or psychosis." SalingerTwain shrugs. "It wouldn't be the first time we would have to do it. And if you decide to stay with us and if we find you promising as a hero, we could remove from the society entirely, as that is what happened to each of us."
"That sounds," I pause. "Nice. Many don't notice me, but what about the newspapers? They know me as 'The Dragon Whisperer'. Will you erase me from that too? Or just announce me as a hero with a different name?" SalingerTwain runs his fingers through his silver hair, thinking.
"That does sound like a fine idea. Because the city knows you as an anonymous hero, we could reveal you as a new part of us, that is if you want to join. We certainly have plenty of rooms you could choose from." I slip off my, no 17's, jacket and lay it in my lap as I nod.
"I would like that. Is there any chance I could choose my name? There is two that I like." I ask hopefully.
"Of course, Just, hit me with them."
"What do you think of Tarakona?" I say, unsure of his reaction. "Or maybe Arach? Tarakona is Maori and Arach is Gaelic. They both mean dragon. I thought it would be suiting, as people see me as 'The Dragon Whisperer'."
"I think they are both excellent, but I think Tarakona is the one that fits. I'll call my engineers, Allyson, TheLoneWriter, and Soulhearts, to come here and plan to recreate The Machine." SalingerTwain stands up abruptly and claps his hands. "Now Tarakona or Just, let's find you a place to stay." I stand up and we walk out of the room.
SalingerTwain calls to 17, "17 come here." She walks over, adjusting her beanie. "Show Just to the rooms she can choose from."
"Alright! I think I know the perfect room for you, but you'll have to see it for yourself to see. Follow me," she says, walking away. We walk up a staircase in the corner of the main room I hadn't seen before. We turn right and right again. She opens a black door, revealing the room within. She is right, I do like it. The walls are a navy blue or black with purple, pink, and blue painted to look like a galaxy on the same colored ceiling. The bed's headboard sits against the wall of the door that we walked through.
I look out the windows to the skyline. The sun was setting and was covered in shades of pinks, purples, oranges, and blues reminding me of my childhood home.
Turning to 17 I say, "I think I'll stay here. Where is everything else?"
She smiles. "Glad you asked! I'll show you the locations of our rooms, just in case if you need us. Ya know, if the place is on fire or what not. Just kidding, there is no way this place could be set on fire!" Laughing with 17, we walk out of the room.
"Down the hall is YoungWriter's room and my room. His is on the right and mine the left. You have a bathroom connected to your room, and upstairs are the rooms of SalingerTwain and A. As you saw earlier, the kitchen is downstairs along with the main common area." 17 looks at me and laughs. "You look like you're about to pass out. C'mon, you should go to sleep." Now that I think about it, I am pretty tired.
She opens the door for me, "Let me get you something to sleep in. We can send someone to get clothes from your apartment tomorrow, or at least hide your identity." 17 walks out of the room as I take in my surroundings better. Sliding off my boots and leaving them by the dresser, I sit on the bed, facing the windows. They stretch from the hardwood floor to the ceiling. I hear a knock on the door and it opens. 17 walks in and hands me a stack of clothes.
"These should work until we get clothes from your apartment."
"Thanks 17," I reply monotonously.
"Anytime Just." I slip out of my jacket and jeans, sliding on a shirt and sweatpants. After putting the other clothes on top of the dresser, I climb under the black duvet cover and lay on the bed. I slowly close my eyes, and soon enough, I fall asleep.