Chapter 5 - Veer
Directed by Insignificant Entity

"I'm so sorry." He looked up from the Day, and saw his best friend.
"Why are you sorry, John?" She asked, as she walked around the table.
"I care so very much about you, and yet, I am not able to protect you."
She sat beside him on the chair he was on, and hugged him with affection.
He tried to hug back, but he did not want to hurt his friend, so he did not.
She rested her head against his shoulder and spoke in a delicate voice.
"What did you say, Tal? I couldn't hear you." He looked over towards her.
She had such beautiful and soft hair, of pure red, which matched her well.
But the n ,s he slowl yvani she dintoth enot hing ness thath efel twitho uther..
Th ewor ldth endisap pea red int otheo nehesti llliv edin,th eon ew ithout h e r .
"I'm sorry I didn't love you before. Now I'll never have that chance again.. I just,
I died. And you revived me. And I- And all I could do was- Not love you the way..
th ewa yyo udese rvedt obelo ved.Y ouwe resoni ce,y oubrou ghtmei cec re am ,
a nddro vemetose eth efi rewor ks.I en jo yedwatc hingt hefi rewo rksw ith you .
ificouldjustbewithyouforonemoresecond itwouldmakemefeelsohappy icouldprobably
liveinthishellofbeingwithoutyou butioweyoumylifesoiwouldnotbelivinganywaysiwould
bejustlikebefore butthenyoumightnotcomebackforme becauseiamsuchahorribleperson
ineverdidhurtanyone ijustwantedtohelptheworldbecomesomethingbetterthanitoncewas
thenitwantedmedeadbutiamnotdead you reVived me ididnotthankyouenoughforeverything
forthebusridetothecdstorewiththatbuswiththefunnygraffitithatsaidkurstdonit andforeven
i n c l u d i n g m e i n y o u r l i f e f o r o n e s e c o n d ." He continued
to cry
O     uncontrollably.     O
In the background,
he heard sounds telling him he should relax
but he would not be able to be relaxed
because he did not know how she was
when he was ready to scratch
h i s o w n e y e s o u t
just to see her

He did not feel fatigued. His body was eternally fatigued. He leaned against the closed door he entered through. It was a standard wooden door, but nonetheless could still support his leaning weight. With an effort unequaled by many of his other efforts, he removed his body and moved it closer towards the bed that slept in the room. His room. But he did not possess ownership of the room. It was just the room that he could sleep in, though he could probably sleep in any of the other rooms, just not as privately, probably. He uncovered the reason that he was fatigued.. the weight.. and the heat. It was his strangely gloved shirt. So as he tried to stand near the bed, he pulled the shirt over his naturally green hair. He threw the shirt off to a known, and saw his body once again, without his censors. It was a heavily tattooed upper body, with many of them covering scars. His right arm was covered by a large gray and blue one- but there was onet hat wasn otata ttoo. Rath eritw as..
"Then can I get you a birthday present?" He wanted to hug her, but..
"I don't know when your birthday is. I'm so-" He lowered his eyes.
"I'll write it down for you." She hugged him more. It felt nice.
"Thank you." He watched her arms return from around his body.
She stood up, surveyed the room, and then found something.
Near the tv was a pen. It was a regular pen with a black shell.
She got the pen, then took his left hand when she returned.
She took the rough glove off from the hand and massaged it.
"Your hands.. feel.. n.. nice." He enjoyed the attention she always gave him.
"You always say such nice things to me, John." She charmingly smiled.
"I mean it. You're.. such a.. beau.." She nodded as he tried to speak.
"I know you do.. Could you close your eyes for a second?" He closed them.
He felt a slight tickling on his left hand, but he kept his eyes closed. It stopped.
He then felt her two warm hands covering his empty face and eyes. "Can you guess?"
"Guess what?" He would not have opened his eyes to guess, even if he needed to.
"What day I wrote down." She did not ask him to open his eyes. So he wouldn't.
"..I don't even know what today is.." His mind started to fall, but she caught him.
"Today is July 4th. 2013. It's close to today. Try to remember.. please..."
"Is it T-K3 already? I thought it was still T-J6." His mind somehow remembered that?
"What? That was seven years ago.." She removed her hands, and hugged him tightly.
"You really can't remember?" He felt a moistness on his neck, where her head was.
"Please don't cry, Tal. It's okay.. just please don't.." He started too.
"They took all that time away from you. And you didn't even-"
"I did deserve it. I'm sorry. They said it was illegal."
"You did nothing wrong.." She still hugged his lost body.
"I'm sorry. Maybe I'm not.." he paused, "I don't want to lose you."
"They took your life away from you. You can't even remember.."
"I.. I know I don't deserve to be around you.. but I don't want to.."
"You do deserve to be around me, John. You really do."
"They just wanted to make an example out of you.."
".t o.."
"So they made you out to be this horrible person."
"But some people knew better.. there's even an-"
"t o... l.. o s e... y o u.... a g a i n."
He could no longer feel her warmth.. Helostheragain? Hestartedtocollapse-
"You remembered?" He could not see where her voice came from.
"N-noimverysorry. Ijustdidntwanttoloseyou. Imsorryihurtyouididntmeantopleaseforgiveme."
"Oh.. John. It's okay. I'm alright. You didn't hurt me. You can open your eyes, too."
"I didn't mean to make you wait so long." He could still only see black.
And then he saw her bright, warming, cheerful face. But needed to blink.
She lifted his left hand so he could see it. He looked down to it.
"July 11th?" The handwriting was beautifully well done. He treasured it.
"Yep. Just three weeks after yours- and two years- But that's okay that.."
He, very suddenly, felt a need to hug her, his only and best friend.
"I don't want to hurt you, but.." he said quietly, "can I please hug you?"
"Of course you can. You don't need to ask me, I know you would never hurt me."
She stepped back, so he could stand. He did, and he lifted his arms.
He closed his eyes, stepped forward, and felt a strong, familiar warmth.
He closed his arms around his friend, and he treasured the time.

Lounging about, two creatures walked a dusty road in Akintunde.
The first, who walked toward the center of the road, was a human.
The second, who dragged its hand along a fence, was not a "human."
The first made jokes along the way, which entertained the second.
As the first would talk, with his hair flowing slightly like grass..
the second would listen, and be entertained by the jokes he told.
When the second laughed, the large blue flower on its head would shake.
The flower stood upon a tall bulky blue body, which seemed a bit strange.
"So, when's your house going to show up?" The first asked the second.
"Ya'll see, E." The second was amused by the response he made.
The first moved his mouth, but remained focused on finding the house.
"How could I tell which is your house?" The first asked again.
"We Gallon dun got no housies. Dat how ya kin tell, E."
"Then do you live in holes in the ground, or something?"
"Nah." The second became confused, and stopped. "Me dun no whar it be."
"Y.. you're ..lost?" The first began to worried. "You're fucking...lost?"
"Nan 'eed ta get worry. Me'll find it." The first panicked.
"What if we can't fucking find our fucking way back home? We'll-"
"Yar back, Kurstd." A voice similar to the second's came from somewhere.
"Me told ya, ya nan 'eed ta worry." The creature ran off to the voice.
The flower-esque creature, a Gallon, opened a gate, and ran to the voice.
The voice came from a similar creature, that looked similar to a Gallon.
The only difference was, Kurstd who dressed in cut tan pants, was blue in colour.
This Gallon was orange in colour, and had more clothing on than Kurstd did.
everSOL, the man walking with Kurstd, entered through the opened gate.
"Ah. Yar da gest Kurstd said ta me wood be cumin." The blue Gallon nodded.
"Uh, hello. I am everSOL." He walked towards the two and their.. house?
It appeared to be more like a round jug, buried partly in soil, than a house.
"Eh.. ber-" The orange Gallon began to try to pronounce his name.
"Oh. E is fine. Kurstd calls me that all the time." He did not like the name Ebersole.
"Ya, me kudn't sey dat name too. So he be E." Kurstd mentioned, holding Sintheya's arm.
"Kay, yar be E. Me name be Sintheya. Me be Kurstd's wa-ef."
"I'm sorry for not knowing, but can I ask you something, Sintheya?"
"Ya. Ya kin ask anything ya wan ta ask, E." He felt rather awkward for asking..
"I don't want to put this wrong, but, why are you Orange, and not Blue like Kurstd?"
Neither Sintheya, nor Kurstd, were offended by the man's question.
"Me be a girl Gallon. Kurstd be a boy Gallon. He be Blue. Me.."
He sighed slightly, relieved that he had not insulted Sintheya, or Kurstd.
"be.." Then he smiled at the two Gallons, as Sintheya attempted to say Orange.
"So, should we go inside your.. house, jug, place?" He was not sure what to call it.
"Ya said it be a Jug. Ya here dat, Kurstd?" She became thrilled.
"Me dun no of any hu-man callin it its real name." Both were impressed.
"So it's called a Jug, then. Mighty fine name for a house." He smiled again.
"Ya. Wan ta see inside?" He nodded, as both entered the large round door.

A truck was parked.
It was blue in colour, and had seen many locations in the region.
It was finely crafted, with a strong coat of metal protecting its weak interior.
It was also heavy.
This truck was parked before a strangely dressed person, a tall creature in yellow, and a man with thick blue clothing.
This truck supported part of the weight of the strangely dressed person, who leaned slightly on its hood.
This made it slightly more heavy.
The naturally yellow creature asked about the truck.
The strangely clothed man replied the question about the truck.
The creature mentioned that the truck was heavy.
The heavily dressed man gave statistics on the truck.
The all-knowing eccentrically dressed man calmed the statistics.
The statistics were actually very interesting.
The creature with the long neck asked how.
The questioned man answered the how.
The answer was too simple.
The answer was explained.
Focus your thoughts.
You must think only of this.
Only of lifting?
And not of, say, stories?
Focus is all you need?
A want.
To lift the truck?
Are you able to demonstrate?
No problem.
But it was a problem.
The truck was going to be lifted.
But it did not consent to being lifted.
The man with fake metal boots crouched near the truck.
The truck was in park.
The man lifted the truck, through great effort and focus.
The man fell slightly, but was caught by the yellow creature.
The truck was not caught.
It did not like bouncing like that.
It hurt.
I am the truck.
Do not lift the truck.

everSOL closed his eyes to the world of AKIN, remembered back to the world that deceived him, and spoke after a wide silence befell the few who listened to him. He stated with a murmur. "..Since I can't think of any stories or rants, or anything, right now, I'll entertain some questions." He did not respond to his question. "What'd ya say dat thing on yer hand be?" He opened his eyes, and looked around the small, forested gathering where he, and his audience sat. "What thing on my hand?" The answer did not come from him. "Ya know, dat thing." The blue creature sitting to his left pointed to his hand. "Oh, you mean the July 11th on my left hand, right Kurstd?" The blue flower on top of the creature nodded. "I already mentioned this once or twice," he said as he took out his left hand to show the other two what the two were talking about. "Apollo 'bout dat. Ya dun need ta mentin it agin." He continued. "I think, but.. oh. That's quite alright, Kurstd. I'm glad that you're interested." He displayed his exposed left hand to the yellow creature and the human that frequently visited his world. "I do not remember the significance of this July 11, T, H as well." He replied. "You don't remember, either, H? That's really weird.. you remember everything." "I suppose you told it in such an engrossing manner, that, I forgot about that little detail." He laughed. "Well put. I better begin before I forget, myself." He looked into his hand, at the thin lines that still remained black. "Well, this is a very important thing for me. It's what's called a date. It was the date she was born.." He did not ask. "Tal?" He continued to look at the date. "Indeed, Vspog. My best friend, Tal, was born on this date, July 11th. Twenty-four years ago. Her birthday was on Thursday.. but that was months a..." He clenched his hand, and let his body fall on top of it. Most of his body remained on the cloth that he lay on, but his hair started to merge with the green grass. "You can always apologize when you return. I suppose." He looked up to Vspog, for the man in blue clothing always seemed to relate to how he was feeling. "Thanks." He moved his exposed hand and arm so he could see the date again. "I don't know why, sometimes, I feel so sad when I think about her. Maybe I'm just feeling that since I'm not there, something might happen to her." He did not attempt to make himself feel better. "I think, where ever she is, she does appreciate it that you do, honestly, care so much about her. But I don't think she would want you to feel this sad for not being there with her." He looked at Vspog again. "Just like Estene and Pers?" The black haired man's face sobered slightly. "I guess you could put it that way." He picked himself up. "I'm sorry." Vspog tried to remain collective. "I guess I know how you feel now, everSOL. Not being able to see Tal at all, and not knowing if you ever will. Because you probably won't.." He wanted to change the subject, but.. "Me Apollo, E and Vspog. Me didn't mean ta saddin ya both." He took the attempt at change, and used it. "That's alright. I guess we should talk about something else." He did not say. "Yes. I 'Apollo' too, for getting upset." He supported his weight on his left hand, scratched his head, and then thought of something as he began to support his weight on both hands, with his legs extended outward. "How about I tell you all what Apollo was, in my world?"

Red. The one with green hair mentioned softly.
Red? The reply came from the black haired one.
Yes, red. Red is a nice colour for some items.
Teal is a great colour. I do like Red, though.
Like red chairs, red.... hair.. and red cloth.
Red hair? I don't think I have ever seen that.
So, it's just black hair and brown hair, then?
You hold the exception. But it works with you.
Thanks.. Are you still interested in my shirt?
Indeed, I am. I did forget that I was, though.
That's fine. It's always good to hear fanfare.
So will this be a fairly simple story, or not?
Depends on how complex you like stories to be.
I do like some of your more enthralling tales.
Over dramatic, and entertaining this shall be.
A finger was raised up toward the storyteller.
That was not a typical signal to normally use.
But, it was used often enough, so it was fine.
The one about to explain smiled, and then did.
Well, you see this red band around the bottom?
Yes, I do. It seems to be very red and patchy.
Since we are being witty, this will mean fire.
Fire? You mean, sarcastically, you're on fire?
Yep, it can be that. Since it sounded so good.
How about those two patches on your shoulders?
The right patch was gray, and covered rightly.
The left patch was brown, and covered equally.
A fight between the technology and the nature.
What does the black basing of your shirt mean?
A symbolic attempt to show that there is dark?
And yet, you attempt to stop this darkness by-
Well actually, it was just shirt I had around.
That's not any fun. You said this was sarcasm.
I know. I was just having fun with you, Vspog.
Ha, that was quite funny. A laugh and a smile.
I am glad that I didn't upset you or anything.
That only happens if you're acting arrogantly.
Okay. Well, I don't want, or like, being that.
Over confidence can be a good thing, at times.
Yeah. I suppose I'd rather be a calmer person.
Oh? Why is that? Would you rather be doubtful?
No. I would rather not be an offensive person.
You have never offended me, or anybody I know.
Yes well, you see this red cloth on my finger?
There was a red cloth on a finger on the hand.
It was on the center most finger, of the left.
The right hand lacked this red clothed finger.
Indeed, I see the red cloth on your left hand.
When this one finger is focused on, like this,
The hand was raised, and did not point around.
The only finger that stood out was red in hue.
All of the other fingers relaxed at any angle.
it is a very offensive signal for some people.
I am not offended by the focus on this finger.
The other one's finger stood, awake, likewise.
This caused a smile. Really? Thank you, Vspog.
A smile was returned. Does that mean anything?
The focus was now shifted onto the right hand.
On the right hand, the cloth was mostly black.
But on two fingers, it was not black in shape.
On the right most finger, it was a bright red.
The cloth was not saturated. But not blinding.
The second left most finger was in pale green.
It was not as pure a hue as the fire red base.
Yep. it's even a less offensive idea, to boot.
The two awkward fingers lifted without effort.
What does it mean, then? And, is it like this?
A right hand was lead by its left most finger.
It was not upwards, but it was called a thumb.
No, it's like this. A thumb was raised upward.
This is called a thumbs up, so the thumbs are-
Oh I see, it's up. The right hand was righted.
I stitched this green cloth around the finger,
and after I finished, I was at a fork in that,
ever so common, road. So I asked Tal about it,
and she said that red was a very lovely color,
and that it's, absolutely, her favorite color.
I agreed so I used red, so my best friend can,
always be close, if I ever needed her nearby..
Instead of crying, or feeling pain, he smiled.
She smiled back, and waited for him to return.

 <objective>plothole filling miniature story</objective>

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A:plot2 { plot2-decoration: fascinating; affect: entertain; entertain="earth.wor"; }
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 <ref text="#english" bgcolor="#notwhite">
 <controversy size="1" face="ie" color="introduction" inspire="read.ers">
 <p align="not at all what might have been expected">

<--{ catchy introduction }-->.
<img src="mental.img" width="0%" height="0%" alt="what's the point?">

 <story size="2KB" setting="#AKIN" location="m_vspog.gif">
 <ref text="#english" bgcolor="#notwhite">
 <controversy size="2" face="ie" color="flood_plothole" inspire="auth.ors">
 <p align="use of concepts which might appear strange">

<a href="http://dialogue_between.eversol.and/~v(i)spog/akin/crops.html">reminder that hours are plants</a>
<a href="http://dialogue_between.eversol.and/~v(i)spog/plothole/index2.html">filled (09|14|03)</a>
<a href="">reminder of title</a>
<a href="http://dialogue_between.eversol.and/~v(i)spog/plothole/index.html">updated (09|16|03)</a>
<a href="http://outside.force.leading/to/the/ending/of/part7.html">something exciting for the kiddies</a>

 </p align></controversy></story>

 <ref text="#english" bgcolor="#notwhite">
 <controversy size="9" face="ie" color="ending" inspire="">
 <p align="not at all what might have been expected">

<--{ shocking ending }-->.
<img src="mental.img" width="100%" height="100%" alt="oh">


There stood a man, before a small group of friends. These individuals, who sat on blankets and large particles of cloth to avoid having their clothing merge with the grassy surface below them, respected this man. When he spoke to each and every one of them, all at once, a new world opened up to them. A world that was different than the one they and the man inhabited. It was a world with different philosophies, different ideas, different happenings and an unknowingly vast amount of differences. This new world was a cruel one, told from the prospective of a man who did not go by the full name of everSOL the Valiant, but rather, everSOL. Even when he spoke of an important manner in a negative view, he always assured them that he was fine. Some of them, even despite that, still sincerely felt sorrow for him. They saw him as a well-mannered person, who on occasion was a bit more aggressive than most, but was still an enjoyable person to be around and to talk to. Yet, this man also seemed to hold a great deal of sadness, deep within him. When he conversed, he genuinely enjoyed the company of others, but even amongst his good friends, he seemed to wander off, while remaining in place. When he would laugh, or smile, it would be a truthful smile, but there would be some small part of him that would prevent him from enjoying the entire laugh. So when the man spoke of negative experiences, they were understanding and supportive, but when he did not speak of these experiences, even the man was relieved. He stood in a composing state, remembering a concept as old as L-113R itself, as his real friends waited patiently to hear the story that was being remembered. This time, he started he started slowly, I will not be telling you a story. This time, I will be telling you a concept. Be advised that this is a very dangerous concept, as it can be used and abused, just as it can use and abuse. This concept, is time.

The man with the green hair stood firm. "So, Vispog is it?"
He did too. "Yes, I suppose it can be pronounced that way."
"Then why did you first pronounce your name as Spo?"
He very well could. "Because I very well could, everSOL."
"Doesn't that ruin the whole concept of friendship, Vispog?"
He sat firmly. "Since I choose not to be Vispog anymore?"
"What difference is there between Vispog and Vspog, then?"
There was one answer, but not the honest answer. "Pronunciation."
There was an answer that was beside that one. "Besides that."
That was the answer the inquisitive man probed. "Friendship."
And yet, it was still confusing. "To avoid making friendships?"
He was removed from dangerous friendships. "To remove myself from dangerous ones."
It was not confusing at all, and yet.. "Then why-"
He did not seem to have made any. "I have made mistakes in my life, everSOL."
The man with the pale, yet, coloured body questioned reality. "Really?"
He did enjoy living in peace. "Yes, I wanted to live in peace."
"So, has your mistakes caught up with you yet, Vispog or Vspog?"
He had caught on to what the man answered with. "No. Only you have."
He did not seem secure. "Then why are you not secure with Vispog?"
The man did not like why that was that that was that. "Because I enjoy leaving my back door unlocked."
The man did not make all of the difference. "And I makes all the difference?"
"Yes. I makes the difference between secure living, and insecure living."
The man with the gray painted boots was lied to. "Then how come I was lied to?"
"The person you met near Akinnera was Vspog. Vispog never lived in Akintunde."
This was the original question, revamped. "So, then, why does everyone call you Vispog?"
"Because there are some people that do not respect you for who you are, rather than what you once were."

He looked down from his perch, high atop that world's being. He looked for his only reason for living, but could only see a frail man who went by the name of Goshe. The man was a very nice one, who seemed to honestly enjoy the stories he would tell at the clearing that become a popular place to listen to stories, with his eyes closed and his mind remembering things that he could not. Which was why, when Goshe told the audience about how Meister, a creature he knew to be a cat, was lost, he took it upon himself to prevent this man from feeling the inner solitude he lived. So now he crouched, a ladder beside him and a roof below him. Goshe, who still held the ladder, took one hand off of the ladder and pointed off behind him. He stood and looked behind, which was now in front, over the tip of the gray double skewed roof, to a quivering blue fluff residing beside a burgundy structure. He walked carefully toward the center of the roof, making sure not to scare the cat while he walked. He sat down after the highest tip of the roof, with his legs compacted in front of him. With no speed, he made his way down the roof, over towards the shaking blue fur. He slowly stroked the cat, which relaxed as soon as he placed his hand on its back, and spoke to it in a quiet voice, as he picked it from the roof. He looked at the little cat, that was mostly blue though it did have a white fur belly, and noticed that it had fallen asleep in his security. From a distance, down below the roof, he could see Goshe struggling with a very heavy ladder. The ladder then banged against the side of the roof, to which he stood up, gently holding Meister in his left hand. He looked down beside the ladder's top, and saw the cheerful man with a curved mouth that was even more so than usual. This made him happy, to know that he could do for others, what he could not do for himself. He lifted his right leg over the ladder, onto the first circular step, and supported his weight on it. It supported him back, so he placed his left foot on the ladder to descend.. Instead, he f
l .
Ivy <- Contraize! -> Vi`

References: Veer Words: 4612.0 - Spaced Characters: 26173.0 - Lines: 440.0 (August 23rd, 24th, 25th, 27th, 28th, 29th, 31st, September 2nd, 9th, 14th, 16th 2003) - I wrote this backward, starting with Part 10, and skipping around. Everything reads well, though it was a very time-consuming chapter for me.
Composed, Written, Drawn, Conceptualized, and even Directed by Insignificant Entity.
All is fictional. This novel's contents and life's content alike.