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 Posted: Sun Jul 14, 2013 12:33 am
Alois’ glance warmed Micah somehow. Just the small attention paid, proving that he had listened. People didn’t usually listen to her when she talked about that. They shrugged her off. It’s only a jog, calm down. Even Misha just let her words roll over him and trickle away. He didn’t… didn’t really metabolize them the way Alois did. And then he smiled at her and Micah couldn’t help but smile right back, tugging on her lower lip with her teeth. What did she describe? If he said sex, she swore to god. She equated it once to her brother, and she hadn’t heard the end of it yet. If someone else picked up on it, she might go ballistic.
And then he said something completely unexpected. Micah deflated against the back of the bench and shrugged a few times, inspecting her cuticles and muttering “I wouldn’t say self-harm really so much as like… I don’t know something else…” Wouldn’t that make every form of exercise self-harm? Every form of exertion? Hell, by that logic, living was a form of self-harm. She huffed again, crossing her arms over her chest defiantly. No. she wasn’t hurting herself. She was freeing herself. Freeing herself from her role as a student, as a worker, as a daughter –
As a soldier?
Especially as a soldier. Hell, she wasn’t even a fighter, much less a soldier. She wanted to save everyone, to end the suffering but… she didn’t want to fight. She couldn’t fight…
Alois roused her from her musings as he spoke. She almost laughed, really. Locks of hair that strayed into her face tickled her cheeks before she pushed them back behind her ears.
“You have no idea,” she sighed, leaning forward to rest against her knees. “But don’t we all? Everyone suffers, it’s just a matter of degrees. I’m lucky to have a very slight and mundane degree. Just… school stuff. I fight with my brother. He’s an idiot.” Still, she laughed affectionately, eyes clearly shining adoringly.
For the second time, Alois pulled Micah from her mind. “I like stories,” she grinned, straightening her back and chewing on her lower lips again. Hell, Micah loved stories. A lot.
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Posted: Sun Jul 14, 2013 10:24 pm
Her attention lingered on him easily, at the mere mention of a story. Already she looked expectant, even excited, for his coming tale. He already had a plethora to choose from, but an occasion like this deserved a properly drawn fiction. She didn't quite deserve to hear his real torrid tales, so an improvised one would suffice. Given her propensity for optimism, he wagered she'd remain unable to tell the difference between reality and fiction... especially if she watched the news as religiously as he did. Even so, it didn't take an ear to the ground for someone to glean that Destiny City was afflicted with the metaphysical.
"Strange sings happen in zis city, especially after dark." He could smoke right now, if only he had any cigarettes. "Sings stranger zan fiction, and since I work in a bookstore, I'f' read a lot of fiction.
"When I lived in Germany, strange happenings occurred after dark as well. Parties in ze Schwarzwald, if you lived in zat part of town, full of horrors crafted from centuries of folktales, adapted wis' modern sinking. Sometimes it's murders, sometimes it's mischief, sometimes it's meticulous little plots. Ze town I lived in was notorious for such sings, but none of it compares to here.
"And you probably won't belief' me, but given recent events, you might find a grain of trus' in what I'll tell you." Alois soon crossed the threshold of recanting his story. He intended to discover whether she might see through his lies and leave him in the midst of a lifeless park, or remain wholly enthralled by his surreal stories. If she crept out past curfew, perused the streets of this forsaken city while the moon shone stoically over its mottled landscape, then she might yet have the experiences to solidify his story. Was he relying on that? No, he angled for her gullibility over anything. Might she buy what he supplied?
"I used to run a lot, like you. Srough alleys, parks, anywhere I could zat offered somesing to chase. Maybe an experience, or a chance to be alone; it didn't matter. And one night I left ze Haus as I always did, and I made it a point to pass srough ze dregs of ze city, where ze currency is sex and ze commodity is drugs. Zese places aren't so hard to find, especially if you time your visits right." Given his past, he knew full well when the streets flooded with gutter trash. And for every prime location there existed a narcotics happy hour, where sobriety was a myth and cash and splash flowed in equal fervor.
"But..." He hesitated. He feigned a distant gaze, as if his mind yearned to grasp the harrowing events that befell him that solitary fabricated night. "I must'f been late. Ze alleys were empty, and all good company vacated ze place. Ze ambience evaporated. No one was around, so I simply walked srough ze broken glass, looked for some sign of zeir disappearance. It didn't take too long for me to realize somesing was watching me. And I can't quite describe it, not in English, but it just looked... wrong. Somesing like zat can't exist in our world. It did not reflect or absorb light, it just... Bent light around it. On top of zat, it didn't look like any animal I recognized.
"I always liked track. I liked it for its competition, and for ze exhilaration of chasing somesing. Chasing victory. Chasing feelings of triumph. Running meant racing against your body's demise, and forcing it to outlast ze rest, to outperform everyone else, and in exchange you receif' ze srill of winning. I'f' always sought of it in zat regard.
"But zat night I learned what it meant to run from somesing."
In a brief pause, he closed his eyes and gritted his teeth. For the sake of realism, he drew from experiences similar to his tale. Sometimes reciting such adverse events touched on emotions he considered long dead. "But I don't sink even Ursain Bolt might outrun zis abomination. It caught me wis' little effort, and... Well, you'f seen ze pictures. It managed an injury like zat wis'out any difficulty.
"Ze strangest sing was... Just as soon as I encountered ze creature, it was gone. Vanished like a figment of ze imagination. And were it not for my leg, I would'f considered it a passing fancy." He sighed, almost forlorn that his meandering tale wound to a close.
"You probably don't belief' me," he began, sewing the seeds of guilt. "And I guess zat makes sense... Who would want to subscribe to such a fantastical story? Nevermind; forget I said anysing." Alois dismissed the story as easily as he crafted it. Soon afterward his chin returned to the apex of his cane and he breathed a dejected sigh.
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Posted: Sun Jul 14, 2013 11:35 pm
Excited didn’t even begin to cover it. When someone opened up to Micah, she considered it a huge leap in their relationship. It was someone telling her that they trusted her enough with certain secrets, certain flaws and triumphs. It made her glow and puff up. Hell, if Micah had a tail it’d be going so hard it would be able to vibrate through solid matter. And then he revealed his occupation involving books. If possible, Micah inflated further. She loved books! Her brother had gotten her book scented perfume for her birthday last year! Oh, she should wear it next time they meet! Would he like that? Maybe not. Micah hated walking into her own closet because of her job. Okay, maybe not the perfume. Not yet anyway.
And this his story took a distinctly dark turn. The air was pushed out of Micah’s lungs as Alois described where he liked to spend time. She physically deflated as his story progressed, detailing his laceration. For a moment when his jaw tightened Micah reached out for him. She wanted to take his hand, to anchor him the way Misha anchored her. Before she made the active decision, she was reaching for him, fingers already curving to fit his hand.
Maybe a bit early for such things.
Micah’s hand hovered for a moment in the air before she brought it back to her lap where it fidgeted, aching to comfort.
She couldn’t stop it when Alois doubt her belief. She grasped his hand tightly, eyes too hot for her comfort. Okay fine, she was going to cry, but this was some heavy s**t! Crying wasn’t so inappropriate, right?
“Oh no,” she sniffed, cuffing at her eyes with her free hand. “I – I do. Believe you I mean. You’d have to be sort of an idiot not to believe things like this here, right? Like you said, this place is the Twilight Zone.” She laughed through the few tears that escaped the dam. “I mean… you’d be hard pressed to find someone who wasn’t attacked these days.” With her free hand, Micah pulled down the high collar of her running shirt, revealing a scar over her sternum, about the size of the rim of a glass. The edges were ripped, clearly having been torn by something serrated. It was mottled and warped, as all scars are, and settled between her breasts like a pendant.
“Last year, somewhere around… oh, I want to say it was mid-winter… I was just coming home from work and I saw something moving up the side of my house.” Okay, so she was starting out the story with a few lies, but what was she supposed to do? I was out on scantily-clad magical-girl duties when it happened. “At first I thought I was something I was just hallucinating but… the more I looked at it the less likely that seemed. It looked like… a beetle. Sort of. Like of a beetle was spliced with a dog.” She began to gesticulate again, hands forming a ball out of the air, like she intended to gather and manipulate it into an image.
“It went right into my brother’s room – I’m a younger twin – and all I could do was scream his name and just sprint into his room. About halfway there I heard him scream…” Her eyes welled again, remembering how close she came to losing her brother. “When I got there this… monster… it had some sort of straw stuck in his chest. And it wasn’t like other monsters who are able to transcend reality and faze through matter… this one… it ripped him apart.” Micah could almost hear her heart breaking as she revisited the event.
“I’m sorry I haven’t… haven’t really thought about this since it happened… um…” She sniffed again and released Alois’ hand at long last.
“It was about the size of a terrier at first, but then it grew as it fed. By the time I got it off of him, it was the size of a lab. And then it came after me.” She paused again, biting at her lower lip and absently rubbing the scar. “Its straw was serrated. And I’d never been stabbed before… like… they say a paper cut is the worst pain but… whoever decided that should be shot.
“It fed on me next, but I didn’t care. Misha was safe. I could die knowing that. but then – and I should have known he would have done this – he bashed the thing’s head in. My brother saved me. But we were both left with matching scars.
“So of course I believe you. This city is full of graduating members of the class of We Made It. We made it through attacks and destruction and loss. Now you are too. Congratulations.”
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Posted: Mon Jul 15, 2013 6:12 pm
Alois very nearly jerked his hand away when he felt her touch, but for the sake of his plans, he tried desperately to still that reaction. For now he would neither deny or encourage her action. No, he wanted her to feel the realism in his choices, as a soul wary of connection. He wanted to draw her in, to force her to try just a little harder to glean some positive reaction from him. This was his choice in slow manipulation.
She needn't understand his reactions just yet.
Alois brightened marginally at the sound of her acceptance. To her, it might appear a small victory in her favor - due to her understanding, she won him over just a little more. However, Alois thought very differently: her belief meant she knew the monsters of this realm, and that she managed even a meager venture into the darker heart of Destiny City. So had she met a mirrorwraith, like the one that assailed him, or perhaps a youma? Rather than asking, he waited her out.
And that wait paid off in copious detail, with the appearance of a rather heartfelt and tragic story, complete with a scar mirroring the blazing sun. How fitting - given all her heated passion, all her volatility, she wore the mark that symbolized a solar happening. Was it some sort of warning, then? Some indication that she might destroy others in the wake of her fervent beliefs or actions? Could she afflict him with the very radiation that spewed from the sun? No - such ideas were hopelessly archaic. This was no sign, this was the mark of a youma, the mark of the very beasts he identified with.
Oh, how he yearned to explain the true nature of youma. She wasn't attacked by some raving beast, and she didn't bear the mark of an animalistic encounter. No, she suffered at the hands of something ex-human. Perhaps someone very similar to herself. Could she imagine pursuing strangers, plagued with thoughts of devouring them? Could she imagine a blazing hunger that never ceased? Could she imagine bending to the will of every officer in the Negaverse?
That was the life of the very ex-human she cursed.
Despite his iniquitous intentions, Alois lacked the ability to mirror such emotion. He could not relate to her pain and anguish, to her potential loss of one so close to her, but he manifested some semblance of empathy through squeezing her hand. It scalded him with her fervency, but he allowed that searing heat to disperse over his skin. Even if it warped him with its fury, he may yet find it beneficial. After all, adversity begat so many beautiful changes.
She released his grip soon afterward, which he did not regret. "So you know of ze beasts roaming ze city. I can't imagine how zat must'fe felt." For once, he spoke the truth. However, he didn't dare speak his admittedly poetic view on the youma plaguing the city. "You're braf'e to haf' attempted somesing like zat. Your Bruder is lucky; he might'f died were you absent in protecting him. But so are you - zey don't go down easy.
"We're bos' marked by zat surreal adversity, aren't we?" How tragically poetic. "I sought I was alone in zat respect."
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Posted: Tue Jul 16, 2013 1:01 am
Micah laughed musically, readjusting her collar to conceal her scar once more. “No one is ever alone in suffering. I mean, literally, yes, they are. Same as they are alone in triumph and in neglect. We all feel things uniquely and one person’s sorry is another’s joy. So in that respect, we are all alone but… everyone suffers, Alois. And everyone pains. Quite literally, like I said, you’d be hard pressed to find someone in this city who hasn’t yet been touched by the fighting.” She gave him a warm smile, taking in the stance of her new friend. It was clear that he wanted to be left alone with his memories but… oh, Micah wanted to tell him everything. That it wasn’t just the youma they had to fear. There were far more intelligent beings out there in the night waiting for them. How long had he lived here? How much did he know? Did he also know about the uniformed soldiers that fought for the soul of Destiny City?
Had he perhaps seen her patrolling?
After a long moment of silence Micah spoke again.
“I’m sorry, again, for what I did. I shouldn’t have.” Micah ducked her head, embarrassed again by her actions. “And I’m sorry for having disturbed you. Um, I gave you back your phone, but if you want I can give you a number you can reach me at. I’m not sure how long you’ve been here but things get a lot weirder than just those monsters. I can help with that. I’ve lived her for about three years. Otherwise if you just need a friend, you know? I’m not hard to reach. I mean…” Micah glanced down and then around, suddenly shocked at how forward she was being. “I mean if you want. I mean if nothing else my original offer still stands. I can get you back on the track with in a matter of weeks.”
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Posted: Tue Jul 16, 2013 10:43 am
She spoke of suffering as an adversity to bond over, and very recently he learned just how quickly that bond formed. An unyielding, sustainable, almost tangible connection between two (or more) people... Wasn't that the downfall of his plans? Those yowling wretches, and that cop... They catalyzed the finale of his night. Yet, though she spoke of it in detail, Micah failed to see the nuances in suffering. She failed to acknowledge just what suffering meant. And she failed to address what wonderful, fruitful endeavors grew from all that pain and suffering. But that was to be expected - unless she was a part of the Negaverse, which he highly doubted, she hasn't seen the true form of a long tale of suffering drawn to a close.
She failed to understand youma as human suffering at its completion.
Idly he wondered just how touched by the fighting she really was. Could Micah simply be a civilian immersed in the epicenter of destruction? Or could she be a senshi, a knight, a Negaverse soldier, a member of the Dark Mirror Court? It interested him greatly that the possibility remained. That despite her carnivorous hair, her jubilant disposition, her mundane clothes that belied her curves... She may yet be one of them.
How peculiar.
Alois hadn't noticed the break in conversation, largely due to his internal musings. He still hadn't quite emerged from them as Micah continued to speak, and apologized superfluously for her previous actions, which were soon dismissed in Alois' mind. However, the fact that she offered to help with the strange aeons plaguing Destiny City piqued his interest. It did not identify which part of the fight she might be on, but he could very nearly claim that she was one of them.
Things just got more interesting. How could he refuse her offer now?
He feigned a pique of interest when she offered herself as a friend. How could he not? "I moved here four Monaten ago. Maybe it's all zese... surreal happenings, but it's difficult to make friends wis' people so entrenched in chaos." Oh, how hard it was to stay a smirk from his lips. Soon afterward he withdrew his battered, beer-stained cell phone from his pocket. It flipped open without protest and he navigated to the contact window, inputting his estimation on the spelling of her name. "So tell me - how can I reach you, Micah Driscol?" Her name sounded harsh, almost metallic, from his Saarland accent.
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Posted: Tue Jul 16, 2013 11:06 am
Vaguely thrown by the insertion of automatic German, Micah hesitated in her listening. He must have meant month, right? It sounded sort of like month. Was it a cognate like garage was in Spanish? Micah inwardly decided that Alois had been here only a month, though refrained from trying to validate her conclusions. She’d embarrassed herself enough that day, and anything else might drive their new friendship in a direct Micah didn’t want to see it go. She’d managed to work, by some miracle of some greater force, from the antagonism of before, past the awkward apologies, and into something softer, and she didn’t want to see the effort nor the opportunity wasted.
“It’s hard to get anything done around here between all the fighting. But we’re living in a war zone, and humans are plastic enough to adapt. It’s just a matter of knowing Safe Zones and Safe Hours. They aren’t really written down, just understood, you know?” Granted, Micah had over simplified things more than a little. The Safe Zones were in the oddest, most isolated places, usually where there were low concentrations of people. So everyone migrated to those Zones, ratcheting up the risk with each addition. As such, the Safe Zones were more… intuitional than anything else. Being alone was a horrible idea, because the weaker agents and youma would pick you off no trouble, but too many people was like putting up a welcome sign for the more ambitious agents. They key was making your group look threatening to the weak and uninteresting to the strong.
“It’s sort of a mix of art and science, living here. But like everything else it becomes second nature. You’ll get used to it, I have faith in you.”
She smiled and rattled off her number at Alois’ behest, also checking the spelling of her name. “It’s a little odd,” she confessed as though it were a secret. “People want to pronounce it with a long E instead of a long I… and it’s not even Scottish, but my brother got the short end of that stick. Misha’s a Russian name.”
Rambling again.
Micah shifted, laughing nervously to herself for a moment before she stood again.
“I’ve only got four miles on my run, and I’m looking for about five in a day so… I’m just gonna head on down the road, leave you to yourself.” It took her a moment to move, standing awkwardly above Alois, unsure of it was rude to leave before he stood or if asking him to stand was rude, or how to go about leaving in a polite manner. Finally, after a moment of twiddling fingers, Micah gave him a short, shy wave and nearly bolted away, escaping any further embarrassment.
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Posted: Tue Jul 16, 2013 12:45 pm
Safe Zones and Safe Hours.
He hadn't considered the city as divided into such categories. Suddenly he began to doubt himself - was Micah really a potential powered individual, or was his brazen conclusion completely short of the mark? Alois disliked the prospect of being wrong in his conclusions about others, but he understood the inherent possibility. Perhaps Micah really was a hapless civilian, drowning in the sea of conflict. He possessed the power to save her, but was that a worthwhile approach? No. He had yet to see her potential as a tool. So for now, she must survive the streets on her own.
"I prefer Saarland, to be honest. Less les'al." He lied absentmindedly. Right now he focused on cataloguing her number, along with a quick note on the side to denote her potential as a powered pawn in the war. However, he ensured the message read entirely in German, in case she might loom over his shoulder.
Once he finished his footnote and saved her number to his phone, he watched her in her abysmally awkward departure. He said nothing; without prompt, she talked herself into a hole. It was amusing, if not almost endearing. As an antisocial misanthrope, he considered himself the epitome of awkward conversation, but Micah Driscol, Queen of Running and All Things Destiny City, far outclassed him in the socially inept department. How could that be, given how animated and passionate she acted?
He didn't know; she remained eternally peculiar.
"Viel Spaß," he responded and waved her away dismissively. "Haf' a good time." Finally she embarked on the path, but before she strayed from sight, Alois snapped a photo of her retreat.
Why not? She had a nice a**.
Now that he was alone, he could finally teleport home and out of this impenetrable heat.
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