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 Posted: Thu Feb 19, 2015 5:28 pm
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Posted: Fri Feb 20, 2015 2:15 pm
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Friday, November 29
Starting at 11:00PM
Scrub scrub scrub
"RRRRG Come on, come on...." Melody growled in her bathroom as she vigorously scrubbed her tail with soap.
Many red foxes had black fur at the end of their tails. Melody, on the other hand, had white. At least, it would be white if she didn't get charcoal on it! She had to complain to someone, but she just met Anna, Terrell's room was too long of a walk. There was only one solution: complain to the source of her dilemma. Soap was wiped off onto towel, and she made quick work of reaching for her phone and sending a private message to the culprit: Like a Sir.
TummyRubLuver009: Ey, you up?
Jack laid on his bed, absently circling wrong answers on his last test with a red sharpie and a blank expression. Wrong. No. Why. Did. He. Even. Bother. Buzz.
Jack’s eyes drifted from his grading to his phone, a notification from the Lubchenko Chat bright on the screen. A private message? That was new. He dropped the papers against his propped-up thigh and reached for his phone. Melody. Mggg. He wrote her off with a sarcastic comment and went back to grading.
Like a Sir: This is not the website for lonely singles.
Mel smirked. That was what she liked about the guy. For the most part, that's how she talked when she was with her friends back home -- or hell, even now. Her nails tapped the screen as she wrote a swift response.
TummyRubLuver009: Not exactly looking for hot singles in my area, so that's good.
Another buzz. Jack eyed his phone as if it had done something suspicious before circling a few more incorrect answers. He succeeded in ignoring it until he moved on to a new test, but his eyes landed on the phone again… He capped the pen. Fine.
Like a Sir: I don’t deliver food either.
He waited for the right moment to put a scathing end to the conversation.
Food...that didn't sound like a bad idea...no, focus. b***h first, feed later.
TummyRubLuver009: Damn. Good thing I already ate.
TummyRubLuver009: Remember when you dared me to use charcoals and pastels?
Oh. Did she listen to him? That was a first. He sat up, setting the stack of papers to the side.
Good, that means he remembered! She grinned widely, pleased that she had his attention. If this were face to face, she was sure her expression would be very different. Resting in b***h mode, actually -- but here, she could show how much fun she was going to have. Complaining: the favorite pastime of those who have nothing better to do with their lives.
TummyRubLuver009: I regret nothing, and yet everything.
Yasssss. Charcoal was the best.
Like a Sir: I have this effect on people.
TummyRubLuver009: Dude, do you know how long I've been trying to get this Charcoal out of my fur? I think it stained.
TummyRubLuver009: And don't get me started on this chalkboard frenzy of pastels on my shirt.
Like a Sir: Charcoal doesn't stain.
Mel scoffed and looked at the end of her tail, matted down with water and still not as white as a cloud. She glanced up at her reflection to look at the colors that she mindlessly wiped onto the fabric of her top. She should've been more careful. Nah. His fault, all his fault. Yup. Totes.
TummyRubLuver009: It's still messy
Like a Sir: Which is the best part, like I said.
She mouth breathed the most annoying sound she could muster, all while letting him know that she was doing so. But with a small smile and chuckle, she left the bathroom and proceeded to sit on her bed as she admitted to him her enjoyment.
TummyRubLuver009: *struggle noise*
TummyRubLuver009: Yeah...was kinda fun. Can't even lie.
Jack smiled, now sitting cross-legged on the bed, stack of ungraded tests forgotten in the corner. He didn’t really get to talk about art with anyone. He was generally too embarrassed to mention that he drew, for fear they’d actually want to see his sketchbooks. The last thing he wanted to do was show off portraits of people he knew, to the people he knew.
Like a Sir: I'm not sure you'd be good at it if you tried.
TummyRubLuver009: Psh, as if you'd know if I was lying.
TummyRubLuver009: Markers and Pencils are much better though.
Markers?
Like a Sir: -nose wrinkle-
Were markers to him like chalk pastels were to her now? Oooo, this should be fun.
TummyRubLuver009: Pfft. Not a fan?
Like a Sir: Markers stink.
GASP how dare he!
TummyRubLuver009: You stink! Markers are fine when you get used to them.
Like a Sir: I smell like ******** roses.
TummyRubLuver009: *nose wrinkle* Roses stink.
It was meant to be an expression. Now he was trapped in the joke. Who thought roses smelled bad? Satan. Satan thought roses smelled bad.
Like a Sir: They stink good.
Now she couldn't get the image of some faceless dude in a top hat smelling like pollen. Flowers in general were iffy for her, maybe she was allergic? No, she can't tell him that. That would be giving him too much power in this conversation that she was so determined to get the last laugh for.
TummyRubLuver009: Whatever floats your boat dude.
That’s it. He got up and threw back the shower curtain. There was nothing fancy. Just a bar of soap. One bar to wash them all. It said Dial in a half-smoothed out imprint. Huh.
Like a Sir: I lied. My soap says Dial… I smell like a timepiece.
Heh, timepiece. Faceless dude with a top hat decorated with a clock in the front and gears all around. Did he wear a long trench coat and combat boots? Maybe leather gloves? Maybe when he walked, fire shot out from the ground while an electric guitar played with a rockstar screeching in the background. Maybe he had a beard? All of this was probably the furthest thing he had intended with that description. She'll keep her reaction simple.
TummyRubLuver009: Sounds metal.
Like a Sir: It gets the job done.
She wanted to change topics again, seeing as this chat came to a natural close. But it was late, she still had a messy tail and ears. She didn't want anyone to ask questions about it in the morning -- God Forbid anyone find out her name on this thing was TummyRubLuver ******** Terrell....Did she have to say goodbye? Night? No, that would imply she was done for the evening. Ehhhhnnnn....maybe if she didn't say anything, he'll just send her another message about another topic while she was washing her tail. Maybe she could complain later about it later and somehow switch around subjects. Yeah, she'll go with that.
Jack put the bar of soap back in his shower and got comfortable on the bed again, trying to ignore the fact that he just told a student what kind of soap he used. It seemed weird. He was weird. He--He was really behind on these tests. He went back to grading papers while he waited to see if she’d say something else. It...It was her turn anyway. |
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Posted: Tue Feb 24, 2015 7:26 am
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Monday, December 01
Starting 10:00PM
Uggghhhhhhhh. She rolled in her bed, crushing some sheets of paper she was given and knocking a few books from her bed. It was her first day of class and she outright refused to leave her room all day. Terrell tried to drag her to the building a few times, but slipped away as soon as she could. Anna wasn't in her grade, so it wasn't like she could goof off with someone. She spent the day drawing and rereading her previous chat with Sir. The latter brought a grin to her face remembering the small bit of joy that came to her with each ping of her phone.
Ah, that's what she could do to kill the boredom! He was good about her complaining last time, clearly a good sport. Maybe he, too, was fond of complaining for the sake of complaining. But complaining about boredom was...just as boring. She needed something to start a conversation -- school!
TummyRubLuver009: Sooo, I never did this school thing before. Is it supposed to suck?
Like a Sir: Most things suck when you have your attitude.
He was quick to judge, since she was a rude little ******** in person...but let’s see. Maybe he could help fix that.
Like a Sir: What don't you like?
TummyRubLuver009: This whole sitting down and listening to teachers read from the book thing.
TummyRubLuver009: It's boring!
Yeah. He could see that.
Like a Sir: Which teachers read from the book?
s**t...Was that a real question? Was he a senior? Did he know? Was she caught? Probably. ******** style="color: coral">TummyRubLuver009: Ehhhhhh....
TummyRubLuver009: So maybe I missed a few classes?
Jack frowned. Of all the stupid things people did, he never understood why playing hookey was so popular on the list. He supposed with the way things were now, people took things like an education for granted. If he had been able to go to school when he was human, his family wouldn’t have died of the plague.
Like a Sir: How do you even know you hate school if you're skipping it?
He would have been able to have a job, and get paid. Paid enough to move his mom and sister out of a contaminated area. His family certainly wouldn’t have been destitute after his father was murdered.
Like a Sir: You should feel lucky you even get to come here.
Even after nearly five centuries he still got peeved about people skipping class. When he came back to his senses after the transformation, he actively sought out people that could help him. He had no other choice if he wanted something better. At that time he still maintained the hope that things could get better...
Like a Sir: I had to teach myself how to read.
Mel stopped. She rolled over so she was laying on her stomach and read those words over and over again. Taught himself how to read? She couldn't even imagine that. She remembered a time when letters didn't look like anything to her, just markings with no meaning. To take something that seemed so meaningless and to decode them on his own...wow...
TummyRubLuver009: That...sounds really hard, actually.
Jack scoffed.
Now it felt awkward...and she felt kind of bad. She didn't normally regret her decisions, not in a serious manner. No, usually it was just like the other night: making a mess of pastels and charcoal, just to playfully declare she regretted something that was so much fun. She couldn't think of anything else to say. Actually, it felt kind of shitty to try to change topics now.
TummyRubLuver009: I didn't know how to talk until I was like, seven.
TummyRubLuver009: Only cuz I got lucky that someone cared enough to teach me.
Jack was only here, putting himself under immense temptation and psychological stress and pain because Estella had convinced him that even someone like him had something to offer by teaching these kids. So he doubly hated it when people skipped class just because of their stupid thug reputations.
Like a Sir: Who do you think teachers are?
She thought about it. People like Terrell, who smiled and encouraged her when she got something wrong. Who got excited when she finally understood the difference between "though," "through," and "tough." Who gave her something to do while he was in school so she could practice without him and he could see if she knew what she was doing on her own.
TummyRubLuver009: I guess...
Mel, by this point, had sat up and scooted against her pillows. Questions buzzing through her head. She remembered when she actually wanted to go to school, back before Mama died. Terrell came home with work that she watched him do for an hour every day, and she begged him to take her. After she rediscovered her fox form, she even tried following him, but the school bus was too fast.
School used to be this place she dreamed of going to, where she could get a number on her paper and her favorite dessert if she did well.
I guess after I got in the gang, I stopped caring?
But why? Well, that wasn't a hard question to answer. The other teenagers made it sound like it wasn't that big of a deal, so she adopted their way of thinking and spiraled into delinquency. She could go...maybe...nnnng....
TummyRubLuver009: You been here a while?
Jack was pouting now. Indignant. Changing the subject. Go to class!
Like a Sir: Since the beginning of summer.
TummyRubLuver009: So...the teachers, what do you think of 'em?
Maybe this was something he could work with.
Like a Sir: I like most of them. The new Head of Security is a pain. Never liked Zak.
She grinned and wagged her tail. That was an opinion she could get behind!
TummyRubLuver009: Head of security is a d**k.
Jack still couldn’t believe he suckered the guy out of twenty dollars on his first day.
They had seen each other in the teacher’s lounge and Terrell thought Jack needed tutoring. What a riot.
Like a Sir: He treats me like I’m ten.
HA! Poor dude. She emphasized with him heavily. Terrell had this 'holier than thou' attitude going on lately and she couldn't stand him most of the time. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that Terrell had to act older than his age since he was a kid -- or at least, he thought he did. Still, that was a shitty reason to act like everyone was half his age. She hoped a creature older than him would put him in his place. What was a 20-something-year-old to something that could live a thousand years? He was basically a fetus.
TummyRubLuver009: Not a fan of Zak. If we're talkin' about the same dude I'm stuck in detention with.
She didn't even meet the guy yet. It was just the name on the detention slip Terrell stuffed under her door for skipping classes that day.
Like a Sir: Zak is a straight-up a*****e.
TummyRubLuver009: Good to know.
Like a Sir: Meh, there's no one else to complain about besides Neria. She's...clingy.
Neria...Neria...she didn't know that one. Not yet, anyways. But the first thing she thought when she read clingy was 'Pink-Haired prissy b***h on a badass's arm.' She didn't know Deja yet, she just knew she hated her. There was, however, someone that stuck out in her mind: white hair, ice powers, looks like he was a student (albeit, a dying one) but was actually a teacher. Yeah, she left that table real quick when she found out. But she didn't really have anything bad to say about him. Oh! There was that moment when his eyes went all black and her fight or flight instincts were creeping up. But that added to the mystery. He was....heh, this was the perfect opportunity to make a pun.
TummyRubLuver009: Snowflake seemed pretty cool when I first met him. Dunno if that changes in the classroom though.
Jack paused. Was she talking about him? For a long while he just stared at his phone thinking about how he got to the subject of himself. He didn’t mean to. He just wanted her to go to class and learn something for a change. He never really thought there would be a point where he’d have to lie when he joined Lubchenko Online, he didn’t talk about himself and he never had a private conversation before just a few days ago.. Mostly he didn’t want to scare her off and reveal that was him, she’d never go to another class again if she felt like she couldn’t trust her teachers… Then again, he never said he wasn’t him either… He bit his lip.
Like a Sir: ...You can't mean Faost.
TummyRubLuver009: Santa Claus minus three hundred pounds, yup.
Three hundred, more like three thousand. The dude looked like her back when Terrell found her. For a moment, she thought maybe he was a vampire that starved himself for the safety of the other students. But she read somewhere, in the bag of info Terrell gave her on the school, there was a blood bank for creatures like that.
Like a Sir: He’s the only teacher I know who can pick a lock?
Cue her shift from chillin' against her pillows to leaning forward and her tail whipping behind her. She squealed at the thought -- whoa...what? Did she make that noise? She glanced around the room, to confirm to herself that she was alone...She promised herself that the sound she just made was not going to be heard outside of her room...But her excitement was all for Sir to see via capslock!
TummyRubLuver009: YEAH!!! WITH ICE!!! LIKE, YOU CAN'T TELL ME THAT s**t'S NOT COOL!!!!
If Jack could sweat he would be. For now he’d just try to casually steer the conversation away from himself and hope for the best.
TummyRubLuver009: He makes it a little too easy.
Like a Sir: He's the butt of a lot of jokes.
TummyRubLuver009: Christmas must be REAL fun with him around.
Like a Sir: Love/hate relationship. He's religious too.
Aw man, him and Terrell would probably get along. She wasn't sure if that would be a bad thing...for her, maybe. Terrell taught her about Roman Catholicism, and in a time where she thought she was alone in the world, it felt good to feel like there was someone that would always care for her, no matter her faults.
TummyRubLuver009: Gotta have something to believe in this awful world we live in.
TummyRubLuver009: Sooo, I'm gonna get to bed, give this school thing a genuine shot. Talk to ya later?
Victory. Jack collapsed on his pillows. That was exhausting.
She logged off and went about cleaning the papers from her bed and setting an alarm on her phone. The schedule was buried deep in her tote bag, but she managed to fish it out -- all torn and crumbled up. It was a miracle she hadn't thrown it out or burned it. Her tail continued to wag, the excitement she once felt for school returning to her in full gusto. |
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Posted: Wed Feb 25, 2015 1:51 pm
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Tuesday December 02
Starting at 4:30PM
Detention. Yup. She was here, after a long day of going to class. But she didn't have the bored expression of a troublemaker like the kids did in movies. Instead, she was smiling. She went to school for the first time and it was, for the most part, everything she had thought it would be. Granted, it probably wouldn't have been the same at an all human school, and she had one person to thank for that.
TummyRubLuver009: School's not so bad.
Jack was in his classroom reading written assignments when he got the best news he’d had that day in the form of a PM. He smiled and put his pen down before leaning back and propping his feet on his desk.
She glanced up at the detention room. Zak wasn't even paying attention...that, or he didn't care. She brought her phone up from her thigh and propped her hands on the desk to respond enthusiastically.
TummyRubLuver009: Yeah. Sable does some cool s**t in science class. Like projection type stuff.
TummuRubLuver009: Math is okay. Kinda hard.
TummyRubLuver009: Then I got the coolest teacher in the school for my first AND last class!
Uh oh. He also knew exactly who taught her first and last class… She couldn’t really mean him, could she? He was afraid to ask, but there it was.
Like a Sir: Yeah? Who's that?
Heh heh heh, she grinned devilishly.
TummyRubLuver009: SNOWFLAKE!
Did she have to call him that? He stared at the screen, cheeks blue. She said it, but he still had a hard time believing it. It felt good...to hear that, but… He remembered he shouldn’t be talking about himself like this.
TummyRubLuver009: What, you don't like him?
Like a Sir: I'm...just surprised. That's not a common answer.
Wuuuuuuuuut?
Jack fidgeted. As flattering as this conversation was, it made him nervous. He felt like a liar. Could they talk about something else now? Please?
Okay, now she had to go into detail! Being in English class with him felt like story time. Foreign Languages was the same way...except in Spanish, or whatever else he spoke that day. She couldn't keep up -- probably cuz she showed up late in the year. But it was still pretty awesome!
TummyRubLuver009: But he's all over the place in class. Like, he's really into it, so then I'm getting really into it, and then for whatever reason I actually don't mind decoding a whole other language. Or writing an English essay.
His face got bluer the longer he stared at her reply. He cleared his throat even though he wasn’t talking to anyone in person.
Like a Sir: I'm sure he'd appreciate that.
TummyRubLuver009: Hopefully he appreciates how long it's gonna take me to do some of this homework.
Of which she didn't even look at. She just glanced at it and thought it would be hard.
Jack frowned, blue fading out of his sunken cheeks.
Like a Sir: His homework isn't that hard.
TummyRubLuver009: Wellllllll if I have trouble with it, you mind helpin' me?
Like a Sir: Depends on your definition of help.
TummyRubLuver009: Normally it's trying to convince you to practically do it for me. Buuuut something tells me that isn't gonna happen?
Jack snorted.
Like a Sir: Not a chance.
TummyRubLuver009: I tried, oh well.
Like a Sir: You wouldn't want to disappoint yourself by cheating anyway.
What did he mean by that? Psh, that wasn't really cheating...well, not by her standards. But he mentioned disappoint herself. What would disappoint her about getting back a good grade? But she realized through her first day that school was more than just absorbing information: sometimes students were called upon to answer questions. Oh, yeah, that wouldn't be a proud moment if she didn't know the answer.
TummyRubLuver009: Yeah, wouldn't want teach to call on me and I'm just sitting there like a flounder.
Not exactly what he meant to imply, but baby steps. She was getting somewhere, so he humored her.
TummyRubLuver009: Ey, so tell me somethin'
TummyRubLuver009: What grade are ya in?
s**t. Personal questions. About him. Uh. ********. Jack typed and retyped his answer until he settled on the truth. Half of it, anyway.
Like a Sir: I'm technically too old to be officially enrolled.
Like a Sir: Estelle kind of found me and brought me here.
Like a Sir: So I work instead.
So that meant he was like...what? Eighteen? Twenty? Terrell told her the minimum for staff was Twenty Five, but maybe there were under the table jobs that he handle? Technically too old to be a student, which translates to being too young to be a teacher...maybe janitor? That might be rude to suggest, considering how most people she knew saw janitors as low on the job-food-chain.
TummyRubLuver009: Yeah? What d'ya do?
Pft, just the only thing besides ******** God that’s given his life any semblance of a meaning in 400 years.
Like a Sir: Nothing really worth talking about.
Translation: Almost definitely a janitor.
TummyRubLuver009: Come on~ I could always show up with some friends if things get boring on your end?
Jack paled, if such a thing was possible. His fingers flew across the keys.
Like a Sir: No way, lol. I'm not as pretty in person.
TummyRubLuver009: You think I care about pretty? Pfft. Not much of a looker myself.
Not with her bullet and knife scars, or needle marks in her elbows. A face that always looked angry and never wearing makeup. Most of her clothes were fairly baggy too, despite the fact that she designed them herself. She told herself it was some weird animal psychology that her clothes had to hang on her to make her look bigger so potential threats would be scared of her. All of this amounted to the opinion that Mel wasn't what she considered a pretty girl.
Like a Sir: I'm sure you're not as bad as you think.
Jack was easily the ugliest piece of trash that ever got littered on Lubchenko’s campus. Easily. Everyone else on the grounds was at the very least, decent looking, if not straight up gorgeous. He worked with angels and succubi and vampire half-breeds. He certainly didn’t think Melody should be wearing a paper bag over her head. He simply didn’t have ugly students.
Was this his way of trying to blindly call her pretty? She scoffed, hoping to turn it around on him.
TummyRubLuver009: Couldn't the same be said for you?
Jack deadpanned as skeletal fingers typed his clipped response.
Well damn.
TummyRubLuver009: You're stubborn.
Mel rolled her eyes and was readying for some type of witty response when it was announced that detention was over. Hey, she survived her first detention! The phone was locked and dropped into her bag so she could leave. Now, she could work on that homework, since she was still in a good mood. |
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Posted: Wed Feb 25, 2015 1:53 pm
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Wednesday December 03
Starting at 01:25AM
The rest of her day was spent in Anna's room, sitting quietly while they composed a symphony of pencil scratching and eraser screeching. Anna had long gone to bed by this point, but Mel was up sketching a storm. For the last few days, she toyed with the idea of a faceless man wearing a tophat, but the silhouetted heads began to bore her and she craved more details of the mystery man behind the username.
What time was it? The phone brightness nearly blinded her when she checked, and she had to let her eyes adjust after she lowered its intensity. s**t, later than usual...
Eh...never hurt to try.
She waited, pencil being held between her teeth and sketchbook resting in her lap. Nothing.
TummyRubLuver009: Ey.....
Second attempt. Maybe he didn't hear his phone the first time.
TummyRubLuver009: Psssssssssst.....
She even whispered that sound, but it sounded more like she had a lisp due to the pencil.
TummyRubLuver009: You up?
Buzz. Jack shifted in his sleep. Buzz. He cringed, halfway between not-dreaming and awake. What was that noise? Was that his phone? Buzz. Nooooo. Who would be so cruel? Jack burrowed under his pillow. Buzz. What the actual ********. Who was online right--Melody. ”Whyyyyy,” he sobbed into his pillow. He tried to go back to sleep and couldn’t. He was awake whether he liked it or not.
Success! Mel grinned triumphantly.
Jack groaned, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. This had better be a God-damned emergency. He wasn’t due to be in uncontrollable pain for another six hours.
Like a Sir: What do you need?
TummyRubLuver009: Your face.
She snorted at how simply she put it. It was the truth, but she could've elaborated. Nah, this was more entertaining. She probably made her sound like a serial killer that collected faces.
TummyRubLuver009: Your face. The urge to draw is gnawing tonight.
Was she ******** serious? It was almost two in the morning.
Like a Sir: Can't you draw a flower or some shir?
Her nose wrinkled, remembering their talk about how he supposedly smelled like roses. Thankfully, he didn't. He smelled like Dial. So he claims.
TummyRubLuver009: I don't wanna draw roses
TummyRubLuver009: Just gimme a basic description. Hair color, length, texture? Skin tone, eye color? Face shape?
Jesus Mary and Joseph.
Like a Sir: Basic, she says.
That was basic!
TummyRubLuver009: Don't make me get into cheekbone placement.
She playfully threatened him, but she didn't think anyone could describe their cheekbones properly.
Like a Sir: Nng, I'm blonde.
Heh heh heh, now she got him. She took the pencil from her mouth to sketch. Nothing big or detailed, more like half gesture and half rendered. The phone rested on the ground next to her so she could pick it up to ask another question and see his answer.
TummyRubLuver009: Got freckles?
TummyRubLuver009: Assuming blonde is natural, skin is light?
She had to check, people liked bleaching their hair these days.
b***h get on with it.
Like a Sir: I'm vanilla as ******** style="color: coral">Some minor shading, and she saw someone well...pretty average. She smirked at the thought that he could think he wasn't anything to look at. He was a work of art! Literally! TummyRubLuver009: Pfft. Okay white boy. By my sketch, you don't look too bad. Like a Sir: Yeah, seeing as a monochromatic color pallet is all you have to work with. Black and white. ********. He was too tired for this.She smirked. Monochromatic. Okay, she can give his cheeks some color.TummyRubLuver009: I've got plenty of Prismas, and tons of questions. Try me? Like a Sir: No thank you. TummyRubLuver009: Then take the compliment. What was even happening right now? Was it even legal to be awake at this hour?Like a Sir: Faber Castell is better. That sounded like a familiar brand. She vaguely remembers reading it while perusing the local Michael's.TummyRubLuver009: Is that a brand that's so expensive they keep it off the shelves? Like a Sir: It's the same as prismacolors only better. Soooo, was it or was it not available for a five finger discount?TummyRubLuver009: I'll try to pick some up next time I'm in town. Like a Sir: The pencils blend like a dream. Maybe he was dreaming now. His first dream in 400-something years.Like a Sir: But copics are the way to go for markers. She knew that. She whimpered at the lack of copics in her bag.TummyRubLuver009: But they're never on the shelvesssssss *sobs* The stores were smart, they put up cardboard signs that she was supposed to take to the counter to buy her markers. That was a regular thing in her neighborhood. It kept the expensive merchandise safe from people like her, who walk in with nothing and waltz out with several hundred dollars worth of supplies. Hell, even non-artists would go in there just to grab the expensive stuff and sell it half off on eBay.Sweet Jesus. Yes they were.Like a Sir: If I bought you a box would you let me go to sleep? Whoa. Pause. Was this really happening?TummyRubLuver009: ...are you serious? Like a Sir: Yeah, gimme your name. I'll get them to you. No way...this was too good to be true. Those things were expensive, no way he'd just give them to her.TummyRubLuver009: Am I gonna have to pay you back for 'em? He didn’t have the patience for this right now.Like a Sir: I'm going back to bed. TummyRubLuver009: NONONO WAIT She tapped her phone frantically. Somehow she didn't make any spelling errors. She'll risk it! Whatever!TummyRubLuver009: Melody. Name's Melody. She stared at the screen, breathing heavily with anticipation for a confirmation that it would be done. Maybe she came on too desperately. He just got her name, and she didn't know his. She hesitantly began to type another question.
What's yourLike a Sir is offline"Damn it!" she whispered. Guess she'll have to wait until tomorrow. |
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Posted: Sun Mar 01, 2015 8:38 am
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Wednesday December 03
Starting at 5:30PM
Mel was walking back after another detention -- she was pretty sure Terrell slapped on a day per class she missed -- when she crossed paths with an unfamiliar creature on the bridge. He had antlers, deer ears, and brown hair. He was obviously trying to avoid talking to her, but that only encouraged her to say something.
"Yo." she upward nodded to the kid, who really looked around her age.
He stumbled and almost fell into the lake below them. Mel burst out laughing and thought nothing of it...until she got to her room and there was a package waiting for her. She opened it carefully with her claws to keep the package as neat as possible. Angels sung in the background as the rounded-rectangular caps stared at her in an assortment of colors, neatly labeled. Then there was the smell. That intoxicating smell of new and...deer? Her jaw dropped.
TummyRubLuver009: YOU LIED ABOUT YOUR FACE! O A O
TummyRubLuver009: AND YOU DIDN'T TELL ME YOU HAD ANTLERS!!!!
Jack was playing Tetris on his old school GameBoy when his butt vibrated. It made him miss a block, and by the time he fished his phone out of his jeans he’d lost the game. No big deal. His high score was pretty unbeatable, even for him. He’d been playing Tetris since it came out. He ditched the GameBoy. He dropped by Michael’s during his free period and put together a box for her. Not the cheapest gift, but then, Jack had deep pockets. And what the hey. It was Christmas.
Like a Sir: You mean Miles?
TummyRubLuver009: Your name is Miles?!
What? No.
Like a Sir: My name is Jonathan.
Oh....
TummyRubLuver009: So...Jonathan sent Miles to deliver Mel's copics?
Like a Sir: He is the delivery boy.
Damn. She thought she had solved the mystery of the blonde sir with a top hat.
TummyRubLuver009: You fiend.
TummyRubLuver009: You knew I'd track you down!
Track him down? Why would he think that? S’not like they planned to meet in person or anything. It was Miles’ job to deliver s**t, so he gave him s**t to deliver.
Like a Sir: Actually I was just lazy.
TummyRubLuver009: Pfft. Well, thanks for the markers. It kinda feels like I've been handed the Holy Grail right now.
Like a Sir: Nah, these are cheaper.
TummyRubLuver009: I'll return the favor some time.
She meant that. While stealing expensive gifts was her ideal, getting a gift that she couldn't even steal out of her local art store was a pretty big deal. Not if Terrell got it, he was her bro, it was practically expected. But some dude she met online and had only been talking to for, what, two days? She'll figure out something.
Like a Sir: Don't worry about it.
TummyRubLuver009: You say that nowwwww, but offer's still open if you find yourself in a tight spot.
He seriously doubted that Mel would be able to help if that happened, considering the kind of situation it would take to put him in a tight spot.
Like a Sir: I'm...kinda loaded, so.
Like a Sir: Been saving forever.
And he didn't think twice about getting her a nice pack of expensive markers...
TummyRubLuver009: ........The ******** you working for, dude?
TummyRubLuver009: All my cash got left back home...or maybe my bro took it, idk. Either way, I'm broke now
Like a Sir: Good thing everything here is free.
TummyRubLuver009: Right? Free food, free room--I NEVER HAD A CLOSET BEFORE!!!
TummyRubLuver009: Filled that s**t up with ALL my clothes!
Which was a lot. Two sketchbooks full, to be exact. She usually kept her art in the books for her to pull out whenever, but here, she had a place to put clothes. So she put them there!
Like a Sir: I don't think I've ever used my closet…
He thought about the space in his room. What did he put in there? Just stuff he’d accumulated since summer, which wasn’t much… Decorations. He put his holiday decorations in there.
TummyRubLuver009: Dresser?
Mel snorted.
TummyRubLuver009: Floor is for dirty clothes!
Like a Sir: The dirty clothes are on a different side of the bed
"Oh my God." she laughed, now sitting on her floor, organizing her copics by color.
TummyRubLuver009: Pffft your a** needs Mary Poppins.
Like a Sir: My a** was in the military. I know how to clean. I just don't feel like it.
TummyRubLuver009: I clearly underestimated your earlier declaration of laziness.
TummyRubLuver009: Speaking of lazy, I'm gonna stop being that, and get started on some homework. Thanks again.
Jack smiled as he pocketed his GameBoy and floated down to his window from the roof. He was suddenly in the mood to start decorating.
Like a Sir: You’re welcome. |
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Posted: Thu Mar 12, 2015 10:02 pm
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Wednesday, December 03
Starting at 11:45PM
It was late again, and Mel was up working on the homework she was supposed to start hours ago. In her defense, it was Sir's fault, she got distracted with her new markers and decided to fill in some random doodles she's made since she got to the school. She worked through some of the harder assignments first and was now working on one of the assignments for Faost's class. She grinned, thinking fondly of today's lesson, where he went full British and spent the whole class speaking in that accent. She didn't think she'd be one of those girls...but she was.
Mel glanced at her phone. She got a vague description out of Sir, maybe she could get him talking about what he sounded like. She hoped it would be to her satisfaction.
TummyRubLuver009: You got an accent?
Jack was in the process of decorating a tree in the corner of his room. The ceiling was already glowing with fairy light-wrapped garlands. There was a poinsettia on his nightstand, a nativity scene on his dresser. His iPod played a Christmas playlist from the nightstand and he sung along.
Some of these ornaments he’d had since the 20s and 50s. They been collecting dust in a storage unit in Montana for a while until he moved here. It was weird seeing them, remembering everything that came with them as he wiped them off and hung them. He just had to thank God that he had the chance to celebrate the holiday as a human being again.
He stood back to look at his handiwork so far when his phone buzzed. Jack floated to the bed and hovered over the mattress as he checked his messages. His nose twitched. Accents? Weird thing to ask.
Like a Sir: ...Yeah, I can do a few.
He could do a million.
Keep it cool! You don't want him thinking you're a weirdo!...as she proceeded to ask weird questions.
TummyRubLuver009: I mean, that's cool.
TummyRubLuver009: What kind?
Like a Sir: Different U.S. accents...
TummyRubLuver009: Anything foreign?
Anything foreign. He laughed. But he had to stay modest.
Like a Sir: Yeah probably.
TummyRubLuver009: Liiiiiiiike British, perhaps?
Jack paused, brow furrowed. Was she going somewhere with this…? He didn’t like the way she happened to linger on his native accent.
Like a Sir: What's this about?
TummyRubLuver009: I'm about to get real honest. Don't go spreading this around…
That sounded weird. She doesn't have to make it weird. Come on, Mel. Dudes don't like crazy girls.
TummyRubLuver009: So usually I hear these weird changes in Snowflake's voice during class. Bits of an accent.
So far so good.
Uh oh.
TummyRubLuver009: Then he spends a whole class just pure -- NNGGG ******** style="color: cadetblue">What. TummyRubLuver009: WHY CAN'T HE TALK LIKE THAT ALL THE TIME?! THE ACCENT'S HOT, HE SOUNDS HOT! Jack lost his air and fell to the bed before rolling off and onto the floor with a thud. ”WHAT?!” He scrambled back to his phone and tripped over the comforter. The ******** was wrong with this girl?! Jack laid on his stomach across the floor in a tangle of sheets trying to figure out how best to approach this information he was clearly not supposed to know. ”Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ,” he muttered into the carpet. Mel held her breath as she reread her messages. Why did she do that? She lost it. She snapped. He was going to think she was one of those psycho girls that did nothing but squeal in a frequency that broke glass and would rip a man apart just to have a piece of his shirt. Face met desk in utter humiliation.Like a Sir: Don't you have girl friends for this sort of thing? Nnng.TummyRubLuver009: ...She's sleeping...? Please buy it.Like a Sir: He's kinda like the opposite of hot. He had to fix this.She sighed in relief. Success! He was continuing the conversation! Good. Now she could focus on that.Like a Sir: Weird-looking dude This was true...so very true. If she closed her eyes and just listened to him talking it wouldn't be so bad... Actually, that in itself was...kind of bad."TummyRubLuver009: Sometimes I wonder if he eats. Cuz I used to be real skinny, but that was when I was starving so, ya know. Kind of a curious thing. When she was an abandoned runt, not a full grown adult with access to food.Like a Sir: Some people are just skinny. Giant anime tears of defeat. He typed as he groaned loudly into the floor.TummyRubLuver009: Yeah, I know. It's why I've never asked. Also cuz Faost was more than skinny. He was boney. She could use him for skeletal studies, but rarely needed to draw someone's bones. His clothes hung on him like a clothesline and had the basic aesthetic of a corpse. But she liked him as a teacher, so she didn't want to get into all of that.TummyRubLuver009: So how do you usually talk? Is it usually with some kind of accent or is it pretty average-American? Like a Sir: I am average white boy, remember? Yeah, she remembered. Standard blonde hair, blue-- okay not blue, dark, so maybe brown-- white boy. That's why she spiced up his image a bit. The top hat was her favorite thing to give him, but sometimes she made him a pirate -- only when she couldn't get the size of the second eye just right. But without a lot of details, she took a few artistic liberties in his image. Like how muscular she thought his brow would look, or the heaviness under his jaw, or a pointed chin like a well-dressed villain. She grinned evilly.TummyRubLuver009: Not according to my recent portraits. She had to annoy all her friends this way, right? If she didn’t he was going to have to admit to himself that he had a problem on his hands. A big problem.Like a Sir: Your weird fantasies have nothing to do with how I really look. TummyRubLuver009: Pfft as if you've seen them. She stopped. He knew her name. It wouldn't take long to figure out which one the 'artist named Melody' would be. There was a chance he could know who she was when he didn't know who she was. She just gathered that his name was Jonathan, but Terrell assured her there wasn't anyone on staff with that name...so maybe he was lying about that?...s**t, what if he sat behind her? Her cheeks flushed, remembering all the doodles she made when she wasn't particularly interested in the current subject of class.TummyRubLuver009: Wait...have you? She sighed in relief. Thank God.Like a Sir: But I know you don't know what I look like, and your weird compliments make me think you're off by leagues. Hey, she got some details!Ehhh....she flipped through her pages of changing faces. Yeah....she probably was.TummyRubLuver009: Pfft well you were tired, I could still ask about them cheekbones. Like a Sir: I used to be relatively good-looking. Like a Sir: Not so much now. TummyRubLuver009: War scars can be good looking? TummyRubLuver009: Ehhhhhhhhh well I like you for you, not for how ya look. So it wouldn't matter much to me how far off the sketches are. Oh God, that was so disgustingly cheesy, she was going to be sick. Could she word it any other way? Not like it mattered, she sent it. Aw s**t...but it was true though? She didn't know how he looked, how could she judge him based on that? And she kept talking to him so...yeah, she liked him.Jack hid his blue face under the blanket. He had a problem. He had a problem and he didn’t even know where to begin fixing it. Gotta be cool...Like a Sir: I question your taste. TummyRubLuver009: Pfft, I've got good tastes. Like a Sir: I don't believe you. TummyRubLuver009: You don't have to, they're MY tastes, not yours razz "b***h, you don't even know my tastes." she smirked. Hell...did she even know her own tastes? Badass. Cool. Exciting. Yeah. That was her taste.TummyRubLuver009: What are YOUR tastes then? Jack rolled over on his back and held his phone to his chest. His taste… He stared at the ceiling. He remembered them down to their dimples when they smiled. There weren’t many to remember, maybe that made it easier. He just wasn’t expecting to remember them now. He rubbed his eyes on his bicep, ”s**t,” before holding his phone up.Like a Sir: My taste in girls? No, his taste in toasters.TummyRubLuver009: Sure, why not? Like a Sir: I haven't had a girlfriend in ages. But he's had a girlfriend!TummyRubLuver009: Never had a relationship, so you got me beat there. Like a Sir: Well I've only had one, so I'm not that far ahead of the curve. That was the only relationship he allowed himself to have. The others didn’t have the chance to go anywhere because he wouldn’t give them one, not as a wendigo. It was for the better anyway. Jack certainly wasn’t a catch. It was a miracle they pitied him enough to spend any time with him at all.TummyRubLuver009: What happened? Maybe...maybe she shouldn't have asked that. But after midnight was when to have those deep conversations, and it started with the hard questions.TummyRubLuver009: Damn, that sucks. Like a Sir: Thought I was gonna marry her. s**t, that sucked even more.TummyRubLuver009: I'm sorry I asked. You don't have to humor my outbursts of curious questions if it's gonna bring up some upsetting s**t for you. Like a Sir: It’s fine. I don't even remember what she looked like now. Aw...her ears lowered.TummyRubLuver009: I don't got much to offer but one tummy rub with the promise not to maul your hand? Like a Sir: I don't trust cats. They change their minds. Sure now you may say I can, but then BAM claws out. TummyRubLuver009: I meeaaannnn, ya know, s'not always so bad. Sometimes it doesn't even leave a mark! Like a Sir: I think I'm developing an allergy to cats. TummyRubLuver009: Good thing I'm actually a fox? Like a Sir: I feel my nose tickling already. TummyRubLuver009: Pfft better watch out before I hunt you down. Like a Sir: You'd have to know how to hunt first. TummyRubLuver009: Birds and squirrels, and s**t. Like a Sir: I'll believe it when I see it. TummyRubLuver009: Bet. Bird by tomorrow morning, give me a drop-off spot. Like a Sir: Did you just offer to bring me little dead things? Like a Sir: Isn't that cat language for “I like you?” Yeah, but she was a fox. So....it wasn't the same? Maybe?TummyRubLuver009: ...Kind of? TummyRubLuver009: I meeaaannnnn, I already think you're cool (especially when I draw you with rugged beard and eye patch), sooooo I guess? Yeah? Like a Sir: I...was kidding, but eyepatch? TummyRubLuver009: Sometimes the left eye doesn't want to cooperate, so you get an eye patch.. Like a Sir: There's a trick to that you know. TummyRubLuver009: Tell me~! Like a Sir: You line out the face before you fill in the details right? Like a Sir: Okay, so...what's up with the eyes then? TummyRubLuver009: It likes to do this thing where I can't get the shape quite right at 3/4 view. Easier just to shade in and add a line sometimes. TummyRubLuver009: Besides, it looks good. So *shrugs* Like a Sir: At 3/4 the arch in the eye is higher on the one further from the viewer. The down-angle toward the nose is more pronounced. TummyRubLuver009: But that's...hang on... TummyRubLuver009: Omg. Okay, yeah, that's it. You're getting a bird. Like a Sir: What am I going to do with a dead bird? TummyRubLuver009: Accept it. TummyRubLuver009 has changed her status to "Catching Canaries"Like a Sir: Don't you dare. TummyRubLuver009 is Offlines**t. |
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Posted: Sat Aug 27, 2016 6:50 am
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Sunday December 07
Starting at 06:25PM
Well today was...okay? Yeah. Okay. She went from feeling like s**t to floating on a cloud all in a matter of minutes. She had Phil to thank for that. Ahhh, Food Court Phil. He was some dude Mel gave her number to after they burst into song at the mall. He asked her out for greasy snacks and soda, which gave her the perfect excuse to get cash for a small dose of smack.
She was laying in bed, reminiscing about the day, when a vague memory hit her like a sack of bricks.
There was some other dude she met today. She scribbled down her number and handed it to him, for reasons she could not recall. What did he look like? Did she get his name? No, she couldn't remember. She didn't even catch his scent. Maybe she didn't pay close enough attention because she was dealing with a quarter of her usual dosage. Not enough to keep her ******** first thing she thought to do was sit up, pick up her phone, and -- stare at Sir's username. They hadn't spoken in two days, and she thought he had left the school by now. But the fact that his account still existed told her otherwise. Maybe she could tell Anna instead? No, she wouldn't know how to explain it to Anna without admitting that she used her cash for drugs. And telling Terrell was out of the question.
But Sir might be able to help her. She could make it sound like a joke, and they can laugh, and then he can offer her advice on what to do. Even if he didn't respond, the act would soothe her...hopefully...
TummyRubLuver009: I think I accidentally gave some dude at the mall my number--help?
See? She already felt better.
Jack absently opened the message Mel sent while shading in the last strands of Illasun’s hair for her Christmas card. It was a bust portrait of her wearing the gold butterfly pins he bought for her gift. He'd paint over the hairpins in the picture with gold paint when the ink dried.
When he skimmed the message, however, he put the project down and stared at his phone. Of course Mel would be dating. She was sixteen. High schoolers dated. People dated. That wasn't unusual… He flexed his long, skeletal fingers before finally typing out a dazed reply.
Like a Sir: How do you do that accidentally?
"Holy s**t, he responded!" Melody gasped to herself as she stared at his response. It was so casual, natural. Like he never tried to leave.
s**t, what was she going to tell him? 'Lol jk, just making sure you're still here?' No, that made her sound like an attention whore. 'Idk, that's why it was an accident' could work, but making an excuse would be so much easier if she knew what really happened.
This dude had her number. She suddenly realised that he could track her using that number. Without any idea of who or what this guy was, she couldn't tell if she should be afraid or not.
TummyRubLuver009: I wasn't thinkin' straight. It's all fuzzy but I know I gave someone my number -- help?
Wasn't thinking straight and now some guy had her contact information? A heavier, more recognizable realization set in then and he pushed aside whatever he was feeling before in favor of being annoyed as ******** style="color: cadetblue">Like a Sir: What, were you drunk?
Ugggghhhh why did he have to ask? If she said no, he'd press for an explanation. He was the same way when she tried to joke about school when she hadn't even gone. She'd have to tell him ********, okay Mel, breathe. Calm down. Just get it out. Maybe he'd be chill? Yeah, hopefully he was chill.
TummyRubLuver009: No, I was high. Not even 100% high either -- Now help?????
She was only high. What if her high a** wandered into some psycho? She was lucky she was still here. Alive. And not sewed naked to some nutjob’s basement wall.
Like a Sir: Maybe you shouldn't get high in public, or at all.
Not chill, NOT CHILL!
TummyRubLuver009: Not the issue here.
How is that not an issue?! Drugs kill people! Jack took a deep breath and tried to cool down. Frosty clouds floated to the ceiling when he exhaled.
Like a Sir: That's a pretty big issue.
TummyRubLuver009: Not the one I want to deal with right now! You gonna help or not?!
Seriously Sir. Just tell her that she can block his number when he calls. Tell her there was a way she could figure out who it was before he contacted her. Tell her that it would be okay! Maybe he won't call! Maybe it was just a joke while she was high!
Just tell me you'll take care of him if he bothers me...
He was taking his sweet a** time to respond to her. Mel's legs were crossed at the ankle and her knees bounced on the bed. Eyes glued to the screen and heart racing.
Extreme worst case scenarios aside, Mel being high was probably the only thing out of place about this. The boy was probably just some boy who thought Mel was pretty. She obviously didn't think he was bad either, if she gave her number…
Jack tapped his phone against his palm and puffed out a breath before turning back to the screen.
Like a Sir: Maybe it'll be good for you to hang out with someone who's sober.
That was the complete opposite of what she wanted from him!
TummyRubLuver009: You're not expectin' me to meet this dude, are you?
What if he was some psycho? What if he was a dirty old man but she wasn't paying attention!? What if he was creepy?! She couldn't handle being face to face with a creep. She spent the good half of the last few years trying to avoid being stuck in a room with a creep.
This wasn't going how she wanted. She was supposed to be laughing and feeling better about the whole thing. Instead, it was getting harder for her to breathe. She felt her hands shaking, making the letters a little bit harder to read. This wasn't happening...
Jack hesitated, biting his lip.
Like a Sir: You're what, 16? Go on a date. It won't kill you. ...Probably.
TummyRubLuver009: 17, and there ain't gonna be a date!
Like a Sir: Well if it's not going to be a date then pay for your own pizza and go anyway.
THAT WAS NOT WHAT SHE MEANT!
She needed clean friends. ...Maybe even a clean boyfriend.
TummyRubLuver009: We've been over this, I'm broke
Like a Sir: Well you'd have more money if you didn't spend it on smack.
TummyRubLuver009 has logged off
Mel threw her phone to the foot of her bed, shouting in a burst of anger to cover her fear. She pulled her legs to her chest and glared at the phone with utter betrayal.
Like a Sir: I think we know who won this argument.
Jack tossed his phone on the bed, curled his bony legs up to his chest and buried his face in his knees. |
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Posted: Thu May 04, 2017 9:36 am
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Sunday, December 14th
Starting at 9:30PM
A week. It had been almost a week since her and Sir had spoken. It was a crazy week to say the least. Her classes with Jack had all but been removed from her schedule, she tried to get Sir's input on that a couple of times but he hadn't logged on to see her comments.
Thankfully, she had a distraction from the constant disappointment of his greyed out nam:. Kieran. Also known as, her new drug dealer....until he left without a warning twith nothing more than a stupid ******** scavenger hunt that-- UGGGHHHH!
She needed Jesus.
No, not God's son, Jesus. Jesus, some gringo that hung around town and was Kieran's connection to all the good stuff. However, the only way she would be allowed into town was if Terrell permitted it. Conveniently, she figured all of that out on Saturday, and Terrell was more than happy to take her to Sunday Mass the next morning.
The hardest part about the whole ordeal was sitting through it, because Terrell likes to sit as close to the front as possible. Mel was running on Empty for the past four days now, and it took everything in her to sit quietly through the sermons.
Stand up.
"Let the Lord be with you," the Priest would say.
"And also with you." the congregation would respond.
Sing a hymn.
Sit down.
Stand up.
Down.
Up.
Over.
And over.
And ******** over again!
Did anyone hear that? It was the sound of her muscles begging for mercy.
Thank the Lord for Communion! As soon as people started to stand and receive the Body and Blood of Christ, she dipped right out the doors and into a nearby alleyway for some one-on-one with her savior..
But before she could thank Jesus for his sacrifice, Faost showed up and ruined everything!
In a quick couple of hours, Terrell yelled at her (in Spanish), Jesus bailed (like a little b***h), her phone was confiscated (by Terrell), investigated (by Terrell), and ******** with by (who else?) Terrell! Knowing him, her phone was all sorts of bugged with some parent supervision bullshit so he could see what she was doing at all times.
Melody was laying on her bed, swiping her screen and tapping every app in her folder to investigate it. She drew up extra pillows to support her back so she could move as little as possible. It was bad enough her muscles were still sore, but Terrell had the <******** nerve to dig his suspiciously well manicured nails into her arms and drag her all the way back to campus like she was some rabid animal.
Whatever. It wasn't like she was going to sleep it off. Sleep was evading her for the last two days, and all that was left for her was whatever she could do to pass the time.
Like trying to figure out what was different about her phone.
Found it!
She sat up on her bed (quickly regretted it), and stared at the bright green banner at the top of her screen. She wasn't going to sit there and wait for him to log off! She had to say something, before he could disappear. Again.
But a wide grin spread across her face, elated that he was back.
TummyRubLuver009: Holy s**t! It's been forever! How've you been?!
Like a Sir: I know what happened at the church.
He knew because he was there. Usually he tried to sit in the back pews, so he could leave quickly and avoid the more social aspect of fellowship. More specifically avoid the social aspect of fellowship with Terrell. Because Jack needed a lot more practice with loving his neighbor, and ever since he came to Lubchenko, Mass was a lot less rejuvenating.
This Sunday was different though. Terrell brought Mel with him, but she only stayed until communion. Jack didn’t take communion himself. He couldn’t. Part of him wanted to believe that the grape juice and stale bread would somehow cure him. The other part didn’t want to risk butchering the rest of God’s children in the process of finding out. That’s how he noticed that Mel didn’t return to her seat, because he never left his. He saw her bail out the side door. So he did what any respectable teacher would do, and followed her to find out what was going on.
He didn’t like what he saw.
TummyRubLuver009: Nothing happened.
Jack was holed up in his room now. It was where he spent most of his time lately. He left as little as possible. Most of the students skipped his class anyway. It was easier to mope. Right now the Christmas decorations did little to cheer his mood, and he rolled on his side, pulling the blankets over his head.
Like a Sir: Come on.
TummyRubLuver009: Has Terrell been talkin' s**t?
TummyRubLuver009: He's always makin' s**t up about me.
Like a Sir: So tell me the real s**t.
Ohhhh no. She was not going to walk into that trap.
Physically, she was exhausted. Nauseous. Sore.
She wasn't sure if she could deal with another fight between them, even if she wanted to risk it. Especially after the day she had.
Ugh, here we go again...
Her stomach turned. She couldn't tell if it was because of her withdrawal, or because she was scared of how Sir would react. But this situation sure as s**t wasn't helping!
She managed to convince herself that the sickly twisting of her insides was her gut telling her to take caution with what she tells him. That shouldn't be hard.
TummyRubLuver009: Fine. I asked Terrell to take me to Mass because that would've been the only way I could go to town and catch up with a friend. But if he knew that, he wouldn't have let me gone, and being on school grounds for the last few days straight was driving me ******** crazy. I went to Mass, then dipped out after communion for a quick chat with my friend, but Faost snitched so now Terrell's losing his s**t.
That wasn't too far from the truth. Actually, that was just about as vaguely honest as she was willing to be about the whole situation. Jesus was her friend. He was everyone's friend. Who would argue with that? It so happened that her friend Jesus wasn't the same one Terrell would've wanted Mel to talk to.
Pffft, details.
Jack chewed the tip of his thumb, curling into a tighter ball under the covers. He figured she might lie at first, he was just hoping she wouldn't. That maybe Sir was someone she...wanted to be honest with? Probably more than he deserved to hope for, but he was going to try anyway. It could help her. It was his job to help her, wasn't it? But...could he actually make a difference from a distance? He definitely couldn’t in person..
Like a Sir: Okay but I asked for the real s**t.
She groaned. And groaned....And...Groaned.
For a solid ten seconds.
Maybe it would make the problem go away.
Spoiler Alert: it didn't.
She was torn between coming clean (no pun intended), sticking to her story, and just logging off. Running away usually works. She did it last time when he cornered her...aaaaaand she hadn't heard from him until ********, okay.....okay. You got this." she coached herself, "You. Got. This."
Her fingers quivered above the letters.
"Nnnng..."
TummyRubLuver009: Long version or short version?
Jack took a deep breath. The short version he knew already, but he didn't want to apply too much pressure at once.
Like a Sir: Just...start from the beginning?
The beginning...where was that, even? Mel stared at her phone in silence as her memories rewound.
Curled up on an oversized pillow, feeling her body go from shaky and tense to warm and mellow: her first high.
A roll of cash hiding in her palm as she slipped down an alley, nodding at the familiar trenchcoat dawning dealer: her first shady handshake.
A confident grin on her face as she walked in on what she thought was going to be the heist of a lifetime. Boss grinning back at her, his second in command: her first--
Nope! ******** that!
She caught herself typing those very thoughts into her phone and had to throw it against a pillow to stop herself. She really needed to get a better grip! Her hands shook, and breath quickened.
This was a terrible idea. Memory lane was not her favorite neighborhood, and now she had a whirlwind of memories flashing in her mind's eye, taunting her, threatening her. She curled in on herself, whimpering for them to stop. If she just typed what was running in her head, she would end up dumping several years worth of baggage onto him, and she sure as hell wasn't going to pay for his ticket onto that ride.
One thing at a time. The phone was down, now what?
Breathe? Yeah. Breeeeaaaaathe.
Good? Okay.
She picked up the phone again and forced herself to type slowly.
TummyRubLuver009: I'm not going to start from the beginning.
TummyRubLuver009: I'm going to start at Chapter Lubchenko.
Baby steps. He couldn't blame her for that, right?
No. And if he did, she'll just log off and stew in her own misery for the next couple of days...
But she didn't want to think about that. She just wanted to focus on this jumble of anecdotes that Sir was going to be pelted with. Just to be sure of herself, she reread every sentence and hoped that she wasn't revealing more than what she wanted. Each little story she confirmed to be safe, was sent.
TummyRubLuver009: This isn't really new for me. I've been using for almost five years. I didn't know anything about Lubchenko before Terrell dragged me here. During the Tournament, he snuck into my room and took the last bit of the stash I had on me from back home. So, y'know, I was pissed.
TummyRubLuver009: Tried to tell Terrell off, got told to go ******** myself, bit his hand, left, then felt sick for a few days. Fun fact, withdrawal SUCKS.
TummyRubLuver009: Then that Phil dude asked me to lunch. I used it as an excuse to get cash from Anna to buy more smack from some dude in an alley.
TummyRubLuver009: And you already know how that turned out.
TummyRubLuver009: Since that was the last time we talked...
Noooooo, no! She was NOT going to turn this car around to argue about why they argued in the first place.
She had to give herself a second to recompose herself. What else could she tell him? This whole month was just a never ending cycle of arguing, withdrawing, and relapsing.
Well...if she was going to tell him a full story, she might as well take it all the way to 'the end.'
TummyRubLuver009: I managed to get myself another supplier, until he ditched me too. Which brings us to today, after I found another new dealer and tricked Terrell into taking me right to him. I snuck out during church, hoping I could make it back before Terrell noticed I was missing, but Faost followed me and busted my deal.
Not quite like a story that started with 'once upon a time,' but still....that was just about it.
Like a Sir: Why do you do it?
TummyRubLuver009: It was supposed to be a one time thing. And then 'one time' turned into 'for the next five years.'
Like a Sir: So why don't you stop?
He knew why, yet he didn't know why. Jack wasn't given a choice when he was cursed. All he knew was hunger. He wanted to eat anyone and anything that moved every waking hour of the day. Not doing so was a relentless battle. Spiritual and physical warfare that hurt him, and there were times when he had relapsed, but that hurt him more.
It hurt everyone.
If he could fight his way through a curse, and do what no other wendigo before him had done--carve out a choice for himself when the punishment was having none…
If he could abstain from eating, then why couldn't she quit drugs? Why couldn't she even try?
TummyRubLuver009: Cuz I can't. Without it, I feel like s**t. My s**t feels like s**t. Literally s**t, everywhere, it ain't pretty. It hurts to move, I can't eat anything, I haven't gotten a good night's sleep since Thanksgiving. It keeps me sane.
Jack made a noise of frustration and pounded at the keys. “Don't be such a ******** baby!”
Like a Sir: You feel like s**t either way! And you will forever if you keep going. If you stop, you’ll only feel like s**t for a couple weeks. After that, things might actually feel good. Not that temporary good that feels like s**t when it’s over and leaves you restless. Honest good. Healthy good.
TummyRubLuver009: I don't even remember what honest good feels like...
And that was the most depressing realization she's had in this whole ordeal.
Her ears drooped as she tried to think of life before the gang. For the past five years, she injected liquid happiness two to three times a day, like clockwork. It was practically an after meal activity. If she was even an hour late, she'd be coming down hard, and anyone in the general vicinity were at risk of being shouted at for some stupid little s**t like chewing too loudly.
She vaguely remembered what it was like when Mama was still alive. She knew she was happier, and there were less outbursts of rage. She didn't feel scared all the time, or like she had something to prove, or like she was going to be caught doing something illegal literally every time she sneezed.
Sort of like...how it's been since she got to Lubchenko...
TummyRubLuver009: Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to give it a shot.
TummyRubLuver009: An honest shot.
Jack took a deep breath and tried to be more sympathetic and...relatable.
Like a Sir: Just so you know, I’m not just talking out my a**. Maybe you don't feel like Terrell can talk because he doesn't understand, but I
Jack’s hand twitched and he pressed enter too soon. His fingers hovered over the phone, not knowing how to put what he was about to say into words she could understand. He wasn't even sure he wanted to finish.
Mel furrowed her brows. It didn't take a genius to figure out how he was going to finish that statement. But everyone says they 'understand,' and they 'get it,' even if they really didn't.
TummyRubLuver009: I'm glad that you're just still here for me. It's okay if you don't really get it, most people don't. Honestly, the fact that you aren't treating me like some felon helps a lot.
Like a Sir: I have an eating disorder. I don't like to talk about it anymore than you like to talk about this but, I just want you to know that I understand where you’re coming from… You can get better.
Whoa...
She had so many questions...but it was like he said: she didn't like talking about her big problem, so she wasn't going to make him talk about his. But now, some of their conversations were making sense.
He never accepted compliments about his physical appearance. Sure, she never saw what he looked like, but it was kind of weird that he wouldn't just accept niceties and insisted that he was unattractive. She knew that more people with eating disorders developed them through low self esteem and body image issues.
Even while Sir fought his own demons, he was willing to help Mel fight her own. Something about that made her feel warm inside. A different kind of warm. Healthy warm.
A soft smile rested on her face, as she laid back down against the pillows and gently tapped her screen.
TummyRubLuver009: Thank you. |
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