The Wax King sent Lady Madalena off to gather the other Knights for your assault on Mother When and the Finishing School. He asked if you would go to the Drawn Tower to meet the Scribbler, giving you directions to find it within his domain. The Wax King had a line of folks wishing to speak with him, to mete out judgments, offer sanctuary or hear complaints. You noticed, as you left, that the candle drooped slightly when he climbed the dais to resume his role as a monarch.
The Drawn Tower is an inky black obelisk sticking up towards the top of the warrens, possibly piercing it in places. No guards standing outside, no people, smothered or otherwise, nearby. In fact, all the muck and the mire ends about twenty feet from the base. The edge is a dark blue, like a pen's ink has run a bit into the muck.
The tower, as you get closer, appears like someone took a giant magic marker and scrawled a tower. There are tiny gaps where the marker didn't completely fill in the space, and you can see through it, or into the tower. darker and lighter places of shading along the walls, as well.
As you come to the foot of the tower, this man sticks his head out of a window at the top:
"Who are you?" he calls down, his voice heavily accented.
Comments
"Scribbler? I'm Benny. The Wax King sent me to meet you. Can we talk?"
I assume you do. The tower, for all it's height, doesn't have much inside, really. A staircase that runs along the inside wall of the tower, all the way up to the top level. Along the walls are hundreds, maybe thousands of drawn figures and characters. Pencil and charcoal line drawings of animals and stick figure people that sway and dance and wiggle, watercolor vistas tens of feet high of far off islands and oceans that move and ripple. There are even fake staircases, leading to nowhere.
On the top level, which has a relatively detailed wooden floor, you find the Scribbler. This level is a large studio, with paints and canvases galore. There are a pair of smothered women here, in poses they hold effortlessly. One looks familiar.
"Ben-nee! It is good to see another Awake. Come in, take some food." he gestures to a working refrigerator, looks like a real one. Who knows where it gets power. What do you hope to find inside?
As I move toward the fridge, I say, "Thanks, Scribbler. It's good to see you, too. You're the first Awake I've met, unless the Wax King really is one. How long have you been... here? In the Mad City?"
As he finishes up a scribble "The first? You've missed some grand ones, then! Awake are always the best company to keep. They are the only ones who understand, you know?"
He waits for you to take a bite and wash it down before he answers your second question. "I dunno, Ben-nee. A few years...? More? Time is no matter anymore."
"I don't even know what I understand, yet. I'm really new at this, Scribbler, and already been in all sorts of mess."
The Smothered woman, you realize she's the one who gave you those Wax Coins.
I pop the Coke open, take a bite of cold greasy deliciousness and wash it down with a swallow of soda. Looking at Scribbler, "Thanks. This is just what the doctor ordered."
Scribbler responds, "Always good to have something to keep you moving, yes? Lots of different drugs, techniques, mental... exercises. You'll need them all." He cocks his head to the side, looking at you with sudden intensity, "Of course, Ben-nee, there is The Trust. When two Awake are partners, strong friends and allies. When they can actually support each other. Let each other sleep. One at a time! Always. And one will protect the other during their sleep, and during their recovery until they are strong again."
"Scribbler, is there anything you can teach me in the short term that might be a help? I can't pay back the favor right now, but I won't be useful in the future if I don't survive in the present, right?"
When you're done, he laughs and claps, "Ben-nee, that is amazing! Your power is great. Can you only change how you look, and conjure these apparitions?"
A beat to think.
"I'm also really fast, when I need to be. Flash fast. Well, maybe not quite, but..."
After a moment, the fingers wiggle. The feet flex. The hands reach up off the page, grasp the paper as it if is the top of a hole and the thing pulls itself up. Sits up, then clambers to it's tiny feet.
Scribbler snickers at the doodle-man, then he sighs, "That is my power... I wish I could draw beautiful women."
"Man, that's cool. I guess we're connected. What I see, goes. What you draw, is. Ever think about taking a drawing class?" Maybe next time I wind up home I'll try and find that copy of Drawing on the Right Side of the Brain that Mom abandoned.
You realize the Smothered folk are slowly making their way out of Scribbler's chamber, leaving you alone. And that doodle-man, whispery quiet, is wuite a chatterbox. Still bending Scribbler's ear.
For just a moment, I appear to be Toshiro Mifune in Yojimbo. "The Wax King didn't explain. But sometimes, the best results come from someone who is making a choice, not offering an allegiance."