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 Posted: Sun Sep 14, 2014 4:59 pm
There's a small alarm going off and suddenly she's turning a corner, clearly exasperated. Arms crossed and expression stern, Clarice snaps out, "What have I told you about taking our equipment, Mark?"
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Posted: Sun Sep 14, 2014 6:30 pm
But it isn't Mark at the other side of the corner but someone else slightly more familiar.
He smiles, all crooked smile and red hair and carefully shaven chin. It is her office now and he stares at her sheepishly, caught red-handed at her desk fiddling with some trinkets. "To be fair," he starts, trying to play it off casually as usual, "I tried calling you first."
There is a long pause and he belatedly offers her flowers, most of them are falling out, just a bunch of flower heads without petals, bent out of shape. "Er, there's not a chance I can take back this part of our first date can I? At least I made it, and didn't get eaten by a giant sand monster or something." Nervous laughter, a joke to lighten the tension.
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Posted: Sun Sep 14, 2014 8:42 pm
Clarice's ire froze as shock set in. For a moment there was a brilliant moment of joy but it was gone between one breath and the next, as the woman's expression crumpled into tears. A brief, keening sound and then in a small voice, "This isn't fair...it's not...you aren't...YOU!" She was shouting now, tears running down, "You left! You died and don't think I didn't read the report! Don't think I wasn't the one to perform that autopsy, you STUPID a*****e!" Slapping the flowers from his hand, she continued shouting, voice like a freight train, " You were a veteran Hunter, a division assistant, with over ten ******** years of experience, you had an experienced team and Aria with you! Don't tell me you tried! Don't tell me you didn't intend to die there, Ben, eaten by a some horseman's oversized pet!" She spat the accusation that no one had dared make before. Ben had been well-loved and no one wanted to turn his final title of hero into coward. "So don't just come here and act like nothing happened!" She tried to hit him but couldn't bring herself to follow through, instead slowly sliding to the floor, pale and broken.
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Posted: Sun Sep 14, 2014 9:45 pm
All he did was wait. He waited, not a single word, as if frozen in time. The flowers, what remained of them, were placed on the desk as well.
"You're right." It was a smile, because that was his nature to smile and shrug it all off. It was in his nature to forgive. "You know what happened, I know what happened. I don't belong here, Clarice Sinclaire, and neither do you. It's time to go back. I promised you a date and I am here to keep my promise."
He reached one hand towards her, open, always inviting. Never intrusive, always waiting. "Together."
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Posted: Sun Sep 14, 2014 10:02 pm
"You're late," her voice shook. "You're too ******** late, Ben."
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Posted: Sun Sep 14, 2014 10:08 pm
He arched a single eyebrow. "If I am too late, then you have nothing to lose." A long pause, and then a sigh, "Do you want to know at least why? The Clarice I know would never be satisfied with just one conclusion."
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Posted: Sun Sep 14, 2014 10:28 pm
She stared down at the floor, refusing to even look at him. "The Clarice you knew, didn't have to deal with the bullshit suicide of someone she thought she might grow to love."
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Posted: Sun Sep 14, 2014 10:39 pm
"The Clarice I know," he repeated, "would have done the same for someone they really cared about."
There was suddenly a sharp beep, and he just stood there and blinked, confused, before belatedly fumbling for pockets that weren't there, still used to wearing a coat, not a polo shirt. A cell phone was retrieved a moment later, and it was still buzzing.
"That," he said sheepishly, "was the restaurant appointment. Should I still tell them we're going? It's pretty nice, and I got a really good window seat for us, great view and everything." He sounded wistful. "I miss you a lot. In the end, I came back for you."
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Posted: Sun Sep 14, 2014 10:46 pm
"The Clarice you knew," she insisted, voice growing dark. Slowly she raised her head to meet his eyes, her own glowing yellow in the dim of the room. Had it always been that dark? Had it always seemed so washed out? "Cancel the reservations."
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Posted: Sun Sep 14, 2014 11:03 pm
Silence.
Everything turned into silhouettes, harsh contrasts of shadow where shape and form should have been. There was the shadow of a desk, slanted, arched sideways, there were shadows of chairs slanted sideways, the pull of pencils and papers and, tiny little picture frames and flowers, all shadow.
And wherever the shadow did not touch there was just white.
He turned around, a gesture that meant nothing. They were still here. At the farthest point of the wall, the scene changed, it was a large open window, and beyond it the skyline, the night view of a city. Shanghai perhaps, or Hong Kong, or even Tokyo. Strange, smoky, filled with neon life. "I like this world a lot. I feel like you do too. You like it so much, you have forgotten what it is like to belong. Maybe if we were still alive this would be all different, but our story is over. This," he placed a hand against the window, the surface separating them from everything below, "is our legacy."
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Posted: Sun Sep 14, 2014 11:22 pm
"A legacy," she laughed harshly, filling the world with twisting echoes, "is something one leaves behind. And I have no intention of going anywhere."
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Posted: Sun Sep 14, 2014 11:30 pm
"A legacy is all that remains." it was always quieter, there was no need to accent emotions with volume. "You are too late."
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Posted: Mon Sep 15, 2014 12:01 am
"A wizard is never late."
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Posted: Mon Sep 15, 2014 12:09 am
"Stay," he insisted. "Stay with me. You were never betrayed, you betrayed yourself. You were the one -- trusted the most. You are the one who foretold my coming. You belong with me."
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Posted: Fri Sep 19, 2014 4:44 pm
"You always play the hero..." In Hong Kong 3856 people, all with a little something extra, something unique, began to have the same dream: a cage, pale blue to the point of nearly white, surrounds them. And it is good. And it is home. And it is terrible. It is restrictive to the point of madness. As one, those 3856 people begin to thrash against those benevolent bars, bending and twisting them. In the room, the white begins to crack apart, revealing still more shadows underneath. "...but the prison of your regard is not my salvation."
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