Broken Toy

I got to get to her somehow
All the people we used to know
They're an illusion to me now ...

The portcullis raised as the two approached. The wind increased in its violence snapping banners to shreds along the ramparts. An alarm bell could be dimly heard.

Reigning their horses in the courtyard they are immediately surrounded by suspicious castle security. The storm is much quieter here almost an echo of the rage that cavorts outside ripping through the once idillyc countryside.

Dismounting they hand their leads to one of the security men and wait.

A nervous man, carrying a pink umbrella, wearing a maid's outfit and collar approaches, "State your business."

"We wish an audience."

"Who doesn't?"

"We've come a long way."

"Who hasn't?"

Fed up the man in black draws his pistol and points it at the officious prick's forehead, "Listen riddle boy take us to her or I swear to God things will get very ugly, very fast."

"I can't"

He picks up the tempo of his reply as he hears the hammer cock, "She's around but not seeing anyone at the moment. It's near Thanksgiving and she's quite busy in her RealWorld! I ... I can take you to a messenger however ..."

Re-holstering his gun the two follow the man into the castle proper. He leads them through various hallways and foyers, all elegantly adorned with tapestries and furniture. Finally they arrive at a receiving room. A large fireplace warms the room, Sarah Mclachlan can be faintly heard coming from invisible speakers.

As they hang their sopping dusters and hats the officious prick addresses them from the doorway, "Would you like anything to drink? We have the most delightful Apple Martinis or perhaps I can scrounge up some Electric Pink Kool-Aid, though that's sooo yesterday's news and hard to find since the lab blew up ..."

They stare at him in silence.

Clearing his throat while he exits he says, "Um, OK then! I'll send for the messenger!"

Almost immediately a rotund yellow man, grinning from ear to ear enters the room, "You sent for me?"

"Who are you?"

"Aye Em"

"We wish to speak to the Princess!"

The yellow fool stands there grinning.

"Well??? Go tell her!"

"I have but she has not replied. Perhaps she is busy or uninterested. Currently she's not there but she frequently is, just invisible to me. She's quite popular you know and must pick and choose whom to give her attentions."

"And you did all this just standing there?"

"Yes."

"Well come back if she decides to reply."

The yellow man leaves. The two wait in silence.

After awhile the man in black gets up from the plush chair and begins pacing around the room, examining various knick-knacks in the curio cabinets.

"Do you think her fans sent her these things?"

"Aye, items that might have held her fancy for awhile and are now just for display. Have you sent her things? I have."

Examining a pair of pink sunglasses the rider replies, "Aye, I tried to send her things she would use. She may be using one of them now if she remembers she has it. I sent it to her about this time a year ago." Blowing the dust off of the glasses he sets them carefully back down and picks up a broken string puppet, absentmindedly dusting it.

"Heh, look at this, the poor lad has lost his leg," removing a pocket knife he picks up the puppets leg and carefully reattaches it, "Good as new!" Both riders grin as they watch the puppet dance on a coffee table before solemnly taking a bow. The rider almost reverently returns the puppet to its place in the cabinet.

"She use to brag about fixing broken things. That she liked to take them on. Remember how she seemed to enjoy just playing and cavorting with her friends?"

"She's changed."

"Yep, now one rarely hears from her. She hardly ever initiates a conversation. She no longer strolls through the blogs laughing or having fun, causing trouble ... seemed to start about a year ago, now that I think on it. And now you can only get guaranteed access once a week for an hour in a crowded room, much like a press conference. Some conversations you do not want to have in a room full of strangers where you're simply trying to get a word in edgewise."

"Well we mustn't push her!"

"What's that mean? Does that mean don't rock the boat? Stir the pot? Voice a concern or make a suggestion? Many times when I didn't think I was 'pushing' it was interpreted as such. I was just trying to figure things out. Eventually the conversation became a dance around the topic and me staring at the tea leaves afterwards trying to figure out what was said! I mean how does one 'push' a domme anyway??!!"

"You could call her, try and hash this out."

"Aye, I could and possibly will but I'm not sure she'll take the call. Anyway it's not the calls I'm talking about, it's the other stuff."

"The perks."

"Yeah, what happened to those? The IMs, comments, all that stuff. It just seemed to go the way of the Dodo."

"Well she said it could end at anytime, by either one of you."

"I know, but I was expecting a notice or something, not this death by asphyxiation. Something more dramatic! You know how I feel?"

"No."

"I feel like that toy over there, once shiny, bright and new now thoroughly explored and quietly collecting dust in a curio cabinet. An unwanted, useless thing. That's probably not the way it is, but that's how it feels! I tried so hard to amuse."

"You've amused many."

"I know, and that means a lot to me! But when I erected my tepee next to yours I was hoping for more interaction with her, for awhile I got what I needed ... wanted ..." the rider's voice trails off as he stares into the fire remembering. Softly he mutters, "Time to go ..."

He walks across the room and puts on his duster and hat.

"Where are you going?"

Staring at his brother rider from under his hat, rain from its' lip softly hitting the floor he replies, "Oh, I don't know. I'll still be around but I'm not going to wait for Aye Em any longer."

"I think I'll hang awhile longer."

"I know. That's why there are two. Of the two of us you were always the stronger. I hope you recognize that in yourself someday!"

"Some think I'm insane."

"Some are pathetic idiots and who gives a fuck what they think?"

The white rider smiles, "I'll miss you."

"I'm not going anywhere. She's changed, I've changed in response to that. I still honer, love, trust and respect that lady, the simple fact is she is incapable or unwilling to give me what I need. I need more ... interaction. I still think of myself as her friend. I'm still here, just not as involved."

The two riders stare at each other, one casually arrayed on the couch, the other in the doorway. The black rider nods, smiles and leaves.

But me, I'm still on the road
Headin' for another joint
We always did feel the same,
We just saw it from a different point of view,
Tangled up in blue