storypaint (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
storypaint) wrote2009-01-15 11:00 am
storypaint) wrote2009-01-15 11:00 am
Captured (Layton gen)
Title: Captured
Length: 699 words
Prompt: Professor Layton (Anon) Fan Meme: Layton meeting his future self;![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
31_days_exchnge: 05. of that maniac I can give no information
Pairing: gen
Other: Spoilers/speculation on the third game.
Excerpt: The voice was a little cracked. It sounded tired. It didn't sound anything like him, Layton thought.
"Okay, this is it." Future Luke sighed and squared his shoulders before he put the key in the lock. Layton observed curiously, and a touch worriedly. Was his future self really that horrible that Luke dreaded seeing him? Is that why he lived in this tower, all alone?
I will not become this man, he thought. He wondered if it was preventable.
Luke opened the door to the dimmed room and gestured for Layton to enter first. He did so with caution, waiting for his eyes to adjust.
The door clicked. Layton spun.
He was alone.
Why hadn't Luke come in with him?
"Professor?"
The voice was a little cracked. It sounded tired. It didn't sound anything like him, Layton thought. But then again, he knew people sounded differently in recordings. The way one's voice echoed against one's skull distorted one's voice. Of course he wouldn't sound like himself. He only sounded like himself in his head.
He had been quite derailed in his musing but then he blinked and replied. "Yes?"
"Come over here, by the window."
He almost refused. But it wasn't like his older self would hurt him. That wouldn't work out well for him in the long run.
The man in the chair by the window wore a battered top hat with a faded orange band. He had more wrinkles that Layton generally saw in the mirror, and he had a blanket folded across his lap.
It was weird knowing what he would look like when he grew old. Layton couldn't help but stare.
"So he got you too, then?" The man sighed. "I knew he would. But still I hoped..."
"What do you mean?"
"Professor, I was imprisoned here ten years ago. In fact, ten years exactly. You work it out."
*
Layton quit scratching at the door when his fingernails began to bleed. He scowled at it to see he hadn't left a dent in the wood.
"This time--" his older self called from his place by the window.
"Yes?" Layton said, still scowling.
"This time, maybe you shouldn't try the glider."
"And why is that?" he said, turning to the shape in the chair. There was a creaking noise, and then the chair rolled forward and back, just a little.
"It breaks," the man said, tucking the hat over his face and going to sleep. His snores rattled through the tower.
There had to be a good way out. Layton spent the hours until dark fell searching for it.
*
The other man woke with a muffled snort. He seemed almost surprised to see his counterpart, and then he laughed dryly.
"What's funny?"
"That you'll ask yourself that again in ten years." He coughed, his throat thick. "The boy will bring dinner soon."
"Who is he?" Layton asked, approaching the other with a flapping of his coat and slight anger in his eyes. Not that it was very helpful to stare down oneself.
"Of the maniac, I can give no information," the other Layton said reflectively. "As you may have guessed, he isn't really our apprentice."
"My apprentice," Layton interrupted, first stumbling over the word and then feeling embarrassed, because there wasn't much to getting one up on oneself. This was... awkward.
"I don't know where he is," the older Layton said, looking down at his hands with a shameful expression that had rarely crossed either of their faces. "Or Flora, either. I've been here..." He waved across the dusty expanse. "The children..."
"But why would that boy--?"
"He won't tell me," the other said, sighing. "I've given up asking."
"It would be nice to know why he kidnapped us twice," Layton mused.
"Well, he didn't, really," his other self pointed out. "He caught me at the time that he caught you. We are the same person, you might remember."
Layton sunk to a sitting position, his knees sticking into the air like a child's. He rubbed the bridge of his nose, and from the corner of his eye, noticed his companion doing the same thing.
"Time travel gives me a headache," he mumbled. The other one laughed that heavy laugh.
"I know," he said. "I know."
Length: 699 words
Prompt: Professor Layton (Anon) Fan Meme: Layton meeting his future self;
31_days_exchnge: 05. of that maniac I can give no informationPairing: gen
Other: Spoilers/speculation on the third game.
Excerpt: The voice was a little cracked. It sounded tired. It didn't sound anything like him, Layton thought.
"Okay, this is it." Future Luke sighed and squared his shoulders before he put the key in the lock. Layton observed curiously, and a touch worriedly. Was his future self really that horrible that Luke dreaded seeing him? Is that why he lived in this tower, all alone?
I will not become this man, he thought. He wondered if it was preventable.
Luke opened the door to the dimmed room and gestured for Layton to enter first. He did so with caution, waiting for his eyes to adjust.
The door clicked. Layton spun.
He was alone.
Why hadn't Luke come in with him?
"Professor?"
The voice was a little cracked. It sounded tired. It didn't sound anything like him, Layton thought. But then again, he knew people sounded differently in recordings. The way one's voice echoed against one's skull distorted one's voice. Of course he wouldn't sound like himself. He only sounded like himself in his head.
He had been quite derailed in his musing but then he blinked and replied. "Yes?"
"Come over here, by the window."
He almost refused. But it wasn't like his older self would hurt him. That wouldn't work out well for him in the long run.
The man in the chair by the window wore a battered top hat with a faded orange band. He had more wrinkles that Layton generally saw in the mirror, and he had a blanket folded across his lap.
It was weird knowing what he would look like when he grew old. Layton couldn't help but stare.
"So he got you too, then?" The man sighed. "I knew he would. But still I hoped..."
"What do you mean?"
"Professor, I was imprisoned here ten years ago. In fact, ten years exactly. You work it out."
*
Layton quit scratching at the door when his fingernails began to bleed. He scowled at it to see he hadn't left a dent in the wood.
"This time--" his older self called from his place by the window.
"Yes?" Layton said, still scowling.
"This time, maybe you shouldn't try the glider."
"And why is that?" he said, turning to the shape in the chair. There was a creaking noise, and then the chair rolled forward and back, just a little.
"It breaks," the man said, tucking the hat over his face and going to sleep. His snores rattled through the tower.
There had to be a good way out. Layton spent the hours until dark fell searching for it.
*
The other man woke with a muffled snort. He seemed almost surprised to see his counterpart, and then he laughed dryly.
"What's funny?"
"That you'll ask yourself that again in ten years." He coughed, his throat thick. "The boy will bring dinner soon."
"Who is he?" Layton asked, approaching the other with a flapping of his coat and slight anger in his eyes. Not that it was very helpful to stare down oneself.
"Of the maniac, I can give no information," the other Layton said reflectively. "As you may have guessed, he isn't really our apprentice."
"My apprentice," Layton interrupted, first stumbling over the word and then feeling embarrassed, because there wasn't much to getting one up on oneself. This was... awkward.
"I don't know where he is," the older Layton said, looking down at his hands with a shameful expression that had rarely crossed either of their faces. "Or Flora, either. I've been here..." He waved across the dusty expanse. "The children..."
"But why would that boy--?"
"He won't tell me," the other said, sighing. "I've given up asking."
"It would be nice to know why he kidnapped us twice," Layton mused.
"Well, he didn't, really," his other self pointed out. "He caught me at the time that he caught you. We are the same person, you might remember."
Layton sunk to a sitting position, his knees sticking into the air like a child's. He rubbed the bridge of his nose, and from the corner of his eye, noticed his companion doing the same thing.
"Time travel gives me a headache," he mumbled. The other one laughed that heavy laugh.
"I know," he said. "I know."