[Open] Legacy

Tiberius Hawke,

You don't know me, but I know you. Very well.

Discovering your father's talent was akin to being reborn - his music opened a doorway into the best part of my life so far, and still continues. He was a great man - a paragon. His death was a hard time for me, but I've come out for the better.

Amidst the flurry of his death, I discovered you. His legacy. A boy of equal musical genius and talent, a master of the field at such a young age. You're Tiberius Hawke 2.0. This pleases me.

I am writing to you to tell you to keep up the good work, but also to tell you that some things are best left unknown.

God bless,
-J


Sitting in the quiet library, Hawke simply stares at the cryptic email before him, frowning.

The fuck?

The email had popped up on his laptop almost half an hour ago while he was working on some music, the familiar *ding* interrupting a section that was refusing to sound right.

With a sigh, he had opened the email and read the contents with growing confusion. Who the hell was "J"? Some kind of stalker? He hadn't a clue. A sense of unease had been steadily growing in him since he finished reading, and by the 5th reading he felt a little sick.

His thoughts are interrupted by the sound of an opening door, and he looks up to see who has entered the library.

The heavy door pushes open to reveal a kid with a bush on his head. 

I notice Hawke on his laptop and lift my chin to the boy before continuing on with my business.

Alright, today I'm looking for a book on fighter aircraft. Preferably 5th generation of jet propulsion fighters...

[MUH NOTIFICATIONS]

Hawke nods back to his friend, and turns his eyes back to the laptop.

"Fuckin' weirdo." He mutter,s shutting the laptop with a snap, and walking over to Satoshi.

Leaning on a bookcase, he begins biting a nail. "How do, daddi-o?" He asks in English.

My gaze does not shift from the bookshelf I am actively searching through.

*E*"Ti'ed. A'right, regardless. Whaddabout you, bredduh?"

[I'mma draw a cartoon picture of myself punching you in the face and post it every time the internet eats your notifications.]

[Sorry to interrupt, but shouldn't it be a picture of you punching the internet?]

[No because he knows about the notifications acting up and doesn't check his recent threads after coming back on. ;P]

(Who needs notifications? I read everything with a green circle next to it.)

[Those...would be notifications.]

Hawke nods, "Fine. Aside from an apparent stalker who got a hold of my email address." He says, with a look of slight concern on his face as he stares at the bookshelf opposite.

"What book you looking for?" He asks, without moving his gaze.

(Oh
I thought it was some automatically sent message of some sort
woops)

"Hawkey has a stalker? I knew you were famous but I didn't think it was enough to get you a stalker."

I smirk.

"Anything military, really."

For the first time, my eyes shift toward Hawke for a fraction of a second and then back to the books. Pulling one out and reading the back cover.

"Preferably modern fighter aviation, though."

I almost sound like a crack dealer describing my specific tastes.

Hawke nods slowly, "Aviation. Right."

He steps behind Satoshi, and begins searching the opposite shelf.

"I dunno if it's a stalker. Whoever it is was talking about my dad.."

Nautical vehicles, amphibious, armoured....

He clicks his fingers, "This what you're looking for?" He asks, holding out a book about the marines.

"Well, if someone is interested in you and your life in music, they are certainly going to be interested in your father. After all, that is likely how they've heard of you if they bothered going through the trouble to locate your email adress."

I turn around and take a look at the book.

[A Brit talking to an American saying 'the marines.' Which country's?]

My interest is short lived and I turn back around.

"A marine force is cool but, if it's about the force as a whole, it likely has only a chapter on aviation and maybe a page or two each on single-seat fixed-wing aircraft, heavy fixed-wing aircraft, and rotary-wing aircraft."

I continue searching for about 10 seconds before speaking further.

"What was the jist of his message to you?"

Hawke facepalms.

"Aviation, not amphibious.. right.."

"He was talking abou how I was my father's legacy, and that some things are best left unknown... whatever that means." Hawke says.

"Why would he put those two things in the same letter? Doesn't make any sense..."

I make a short psychiatric evaluation of the subject by the small amount of information I got.

Unless Hawke is full of crap with this, the guy hasn't a clear train of thought or the second part was snuck in there as an underlying meaning to the letter...

That would be a 'symptom' of someone not really being all right...

My hands stop.

I turn around while I speak.

My voice sounds pretty calm. Like an investigator's.

"Hawke? Would you take me to that email if you haven't deleted it yet?"

Hawke's eyes flip up from the bookshelf.

"Sure." He says in a deadpan manner, and walks to the nearest table, flipping open his laptop.

"It seemed like a warning or something..." He said quietly to Satoshi, loading up the email program. "I guess it was about my father's death..." He says, more to himself than anything. A frown forms on his brow.

I study the email without a word. My pointer finger comes up to my face and gently rests on my bottom lip.

My left hand rests on the top of the middle of my arm.

Tiberius Hawke wrote:Tiberius Hawke,

You don't know me, but I know you. Very well.

Discovering your father's talent was akin to being reborn - his music opened a doorway into the best part of my life so far, and still continues. He was a great man - a paragon. His death was a hard time for me, but I've come out for the better.

Amidst the flurry of his death, I discovered you. His legacy. A boy of equal musical genius and talent, a master of the field at such a young age. You're Tiberius Hawke 2.0. This pleases me.

I am writing to you to tell you to keep up the good work, but also to tell you that some things are best left unknown.

God bless,
-J

My words are rather small and mumbley.

Thought swims through my audible thinking but the tone and presentation of my vocal message lacks it.

A very unilluminated sound.

"That message at the end was not an after-thought..."

...

"Clearly a fan...rather unpredictable communication pattern..."

"...However, a clear motive..."

"...What does it mean, exactly, though..."

I click my tongue on the back of my teeth and I point at the screen with the finger from my mouth. I glance at Tiberius when I start speaking but never take my eyes off the screen once I put them back.

"A man who is rather awkward. The cause to it, yet unknown. While the motive to the entire message is to put that last half-sentence in and make sure you read it."

"Poorly consealed as well so he was very serious about it and half-wanted you to know he was too."

"I could be wrong, but, to me, he probably put off writing this to you for a while now-at most a year, at least a couple weeks-and eventually felt he had to. He fantacised about letting you know how he feels about you but it was never more than that until he sent this letter."

"He wanted to say it while making it subtle but some type of aggression, hidden to him, compelled him to only throw a thin layer of dirt on top of it in a subconsious hope you might see it."

"However, what it means, I have not the slightest clue..."

My finger tip goes back between the gap of my lips.

"Could mean anything. From something logical to-and this is more likely due to his thought processing-something illogical. Perhaps he is actually a conspiratist and thinks you're in on something and is only pretending to be a fan-which is highly unlikely due to his cool, yet admirable, positive words to you."

"I'm stumped..."

"Glad to know it's not just me." Hawke replies, studying the email once again.

He closes his eyes and lets out a sigh. "Assuming he IS talking about my father, I can't just give up now."

Hawke takes a seat and rests his head in his hands, his face hidden from Satoshi's view.

"I feel no closer though. It's been a year and I still have no memory of the event whatsoever. I'm beginning to doubt even the stuff I do remember."

Hawke lifts his head up, and looks at Satoshi. His face clearly shows a look of anguish, and his eyes are a little watery.

"What if it wasn't even a gang of people? It could have been one! I'm next to useless." He turns his head to the table in front of him and stares at the space in front of him.

"Mum barely talks to me anymore out of grief." His voice cracks on the last sentence.

Out of the whole time I've known Tiberius, this is the first time he has shown any sign of weakness toward me.

I have seen frustraition in him before but never enough to do this.

It must have manifested itself more lately. Likely caused by either the amount of time without any change or something to cause dispare and push him over the edge...

Perhaps his mother said something the last time she spoke with him. Perhaps it's the fact that she said nothing.

My voice, as well as my posture, is very collected.

"Amnesia is not a sign of mental incompitence, but a self-activating defence mechanism."

"It has nothing to do with your will or even your reason you are here. You would of remembered something of that much importance if it were."

I rest my hand on Tiberius' shoulder.

"Amnesia isn't my strong point of understanding since it doesn't use straight forward sense or reasoning and I've never read much on it but there are probably ways it can be unlocked."

"My only advice I can offer for lack of knowledge are to either look into reversing the effects of memory-loss and wait it out in the mean time..."

My voice sounds defeated through an emotionless expression.

My dearest friend at his weakest point and I can't even do a damn thing.

"I went to see that psychoanalyst guy." Hawke says, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand, to little use.

"He said much the same thing, but..." He lets out another sigh and sniffs heavily, "I dunno, man."

He shakes his head and returns to staring at the table. "It seems like I've tried everything." He mumbles.

'I went to see that psychoanalyst guy.'

Ah yes, I remember seeing you the time I came out.

So that's what your appointment with him was about...

I turn away from my friend and think.

"...Wh-when was the last time you visited thee-uh~..the place?"

My speech trips over itself through my desperate attempt for answers.

["Sam! Respond, dammit!"]

[OOC: Patience is a virtue my friend.]

[God DAMN these notifications.]


Satoshi struggling for words... never tought I'd see THAT!

The place? I guess he means the place where it happened...


"I didn't go back..." Hawke says, still staring vacantly at the table.

He lifts his head after a few seconds and turns it towards Satoshi, his eyes now a little less red.

"I can't go back..."

An idea strikes him.

"This guy who emailed me seems to know something that I don't...."