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 Posted: Tue Jun 23, 2009 6:57 am
Adam was just about to answer when the man pulled up, "Calico? Sorry man, but that's way off from here. You're gonna want to take this street south then take a left on Cork Street, it'll be on your right," he gave a calm smile, and redirected his attention back to Emery, "Well, no one ever showed up,"
(( Again, delete all OOC only posts, plzkthx ))
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Posted: Tue Jun 23, 2009 8:53 am
"Oh."
Emery frowned a bitter frown, recounting her own experiences with situations such as his. "Got stood up, did you? That's happened to me once or twice."
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Posted: Tue Jun 23, 2009 2:09 pm
((Yes, yes, all in good time.))
((By the way, hooray for GTA III to give me an idea of New York's seedier areas.))
David sighed quietly, and managed a plain, "Thanks," before pulling forward in order to avoid stopping traffic. He had wanted to say something else, but a contemplative, somewhat dark mood told him that he should avoid interaction with the locals. Especially in what he deemed a 'crappy attitude.' Soon, he would be required to make a choice for his brother, Austin, which he really, really wanted not to have to make. But first--to meet the poor guy, after nearly four years of non-contact.
Following the directions given by Adam, David soon found the appropriate street, although it seemed no different from the rest. On one side of Calico, apartments lined the street, densely-packed and uncared for. Adversely, on the opposite side, few buildings rested, with many open lots, empty other than the trash and litter. Luckily, this street was well lit, at least on the Cork Street end. Further down, darkness descended as the road passed under an elevated monorail system.
Eons previously, the crowded apartments might have had a particular architectural style, but now all they held evidence of was poorly-kept, litter-infested, most likely ghetto living spaces. Apparently, these apartments served multiple residents but came with no parking spaces, so the roadside and some empty lots across the street served as appropriate places to leave locked vehicles. Because he did not want to leave his Chevy on an empty lot, and due to the fact that the side of the street on which he drove was too closely and sporadically filled with parked cars, David had to continue past the correct apartment and perform a U-turn further down the road, before coming back to park on the available side of the street, which then became dangerously narrow.
Muttering about street names and such, David stepped out of his car, retrieved a single shoulder bag behind him, and then locked and closed the Chevy. He crossed the street and walked up the dark steps to the apartment door. A single light fixture hanging above it flickered on and off, seemingly undecided about which setting it preferred. The door, bright crimson against the faded red brick and once-white grout, was not locked and David stepped right in. Inside, a wall-mounted directory gave the room number of each current resident, although most were penciled in next to scratched-out names.
The main lobby, if such a small space could be called that, consisted of hardly any decoration. Three seats and one couch, none of which David would sit on in preference to standing due to their condition, sat in one corner of the room. Their color was so faded that, now, they seemed white. The room was adequately lit, although one corner suffered from another flickering light. Behind an empty desk containing neither a computer nor any form of registration, was a staircase. In the dimly-lit corner of the room, what could be assumed as an elevator entrance existed.
Dubious to the building's electrical reliability, David re-shouldered his bag and made for the stairs.
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Posted: Wed Jun 24, 2009 3:12 pm
((I swear, Fatal seems to think I'm the guild janitor or something! xd ))
((As you wish, Xascher; all post-less OoCs have been deleted by Yours Truly.))
-----
Although Fletcher smiled back at the woman (whether or not she saw it was unknown to him), he did not have time to play a special tune for her, since she quickly ran off to catch up with the spiky-haired man. The night was getting darker, and the crowd of people began to shrink with every minute that passed. Soon enough, only two people remained before they went on their way as well. He put away his violin and pulled out a candy cane. After sticking it in his mouth, he fiddled through his tip-bucket to count what he had made tonight.
"Fourty-one dollars, and..." he counted the coins, "sixty-eight cents."
He smiled and took out the pair of sunglasses that a man dropped into his bucket as a tip. It was a nice pair, but a bit too stylish for the musician's tastes. With a chuckle, he put the sunglasses in his pocket, picked up his violin case and walked to his apartment building, which stood a medium distance away.
((Uh... What time is it right now in Bohemia, people?))
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Posted: Wed Jun 24, 2009 5:02 pm
Alena stormed out of her parents house, she was carrying two large suitcases and walking towards her new Lexus. She placed the suitcases on the ground and took out her key, before she could unlock the trunk her parents ran out after her. "Alena! You should wait a little longer before going off on your own!" Her mother scolded her, Alena turned towards her parents and said "This isn't fair. I'm 18 years old, I'm an adult know I do not need you guys for everything anymore." She tried to say this in her calmest voice. Alena unlocked her trunk and placed her cases in them and slammed down the trunk making sure that it clicked before walking towards the driver's seat, "Listen to me young lady, if your mother thinks your not ready than you are to stay here!" Her father yelled, he clenched his fists even though he wasn't really going to hurt her.
Alena sighed to herself before looking back at them, she smiled, waved, unlocked her car door and got inside. "See ya! Love you!" She called before placing the keys into the ignition and hearing her car purr.
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Posted: Wed Jun 24, 2009 9:23 pm
"Eh," Adam swiftly pulled out a cigarette and lit it up again, "Can't say I'd blame 'em for not showing up," He paused, looking up into the sky and promptly smacked himself upside the head, "Sorry, here I am floating in my little puddle of self-pity and I've forgot we're already here," He looked at the building they stood by... the apartment complex. "Well... uh, good night," he added with a light smile.
((Very interesting things to be happening soon! I promises!))
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Posted: Wed Jun 24, 2009 9:57 pm
Inside the ratty apartment building were two men. One, a young man about four years younger than David, was asleep in his room. Sitting at the kitchen bar, which served as a dining table, was the young man's doctor. This is what David noticed right away. It was only after he had sat down, shrugged off his luggage, and began a conversation with the doctor that he had realized how much of a dump the place truly was.
He had entered through the kitchen. It contained a refrigerator and a U-shaped counter. One half of the U was a bar with three stools on the outer side. An unusable microwave oven was fitted to hang between two wall-mounted cabinets. The sink was a single bowl with a drain, a low faucet, and two water handles, for cold and for hot. There was no movable sprayer. On the counter, in the walled corner, sat many non-perishable groceries. The cabinets were wooden--looked like ply board.
The room opposite the kitchen, across the bar, was the dining room. The dining table served as a bench for an old computer and a few piles of diskettes and CD's. Katti-cornered from the kitchen, through the dining room, was a living space. It featured one long sofa, of questionable cleanliness. The small television rested on a card table, and no other furniture decorated the room. On the wall, one framed photograph existed. It was of David's entire family, ten years ago.
A hall ran parallel to the living room. It reached a bedroom, a bath, and a spare room that had an air mattress blown up inside, amongst the clutter of unpacked boxes. Obviously, David's younger brother, Austin, had been moved her only recently. The doors to the bathroom and Austin's room were closed, so David received no insight into the condition of either.
"It's gotten worse since Margaret passed away," the doctor, a man of his late forties, said with amiable sadness. "Austin hasn't shown any particular grief, yet." David noticed that the doctor wore old-fashioned clothing--a white, button-up long-sleeve shirt tucked into brown trousers with shoulder suspenders. A jacket hung on the doorknob to the front door. His shoes were brown and polished, and on the bar rested a thick pair of glasses, along with a small carry-along brown bag, with a green cross-hatched pattern. In the doctor's hands were a clipboard with paper, and a plastic pen.
David shifted in his seat--the stools were not too terribly comfortable--and tried to form the question in his mind. "...How," he began to ask, "much care will be required? I mean, will I be able to keep my job?"
The doctor glanced down at his notes, out of habit, presumably. "And what job," he asked, "is that?"
"I'm a stage magician."
"You have work here, in New York? So suddenly?" the doctor inquired.
David hesitated. "Down the street, across from a quaint bookshop, there's a club. They accept entertainment acts. I plan to apply." This was said reasonably. David assumed that he did not sound like he wished to shirk the duty now given to him. Apparently, the doctor questioned his intentions.
Leaning forward, the doctor asked, "How was your flight? I hope the jet lag hasn't made you too tired, should we do this some other time? When you have collected your thoughts?"
David stared at the old man. His face only showed the smallest hint of wrinkling. His eyes were kind--but intelligent. He could, David felt, sense deception, sense irresponsibility. "I'm fine," he answered flatly. "What kind of care does Austin need?"
"It's outlined on this list," the doctor said, handing it to David. "Most of my notes regarding his habits and preferences regarding food and just, daily life. You'll find that your experiences with him will most likely differ highly from my own."
David glanced down at the list of notes. He frowned. "I thought you said that Austin could take care of himself."
"A twelve-year-old can take care of herself," the doctor intoned. "But adult supervision will be needed on a day-to-day basis."
"And you said there's a suitable nursing home here, in this district, for Austin?"
The doctor frowned. "Yes," he answered finally, "but I would not recommend it. Either way, he needs someone close to him around, to help him cope. You are his only immediate family left. He does need you, Mr. Reece. Because of that, is why I suggested you move in with him, rather than place him in a home for the impaired."
"Well, I can certainly try," David murmured. If the doctor had heard, he didn't show it.
"It's getting late," the doctor said. "I've left my card on your counter, as well as the number of a resident maid in the building. She works for a reasonable sum, if you feel you need her services. I've also taken the liberty of buying some milk and cereal, myself. Call me at any time, day or night. I'll come at any time if you need me. Have a good night, Mr. Reece."
"It's David," he said absently, glancing at the notes and the card. "Good night, Doctor Newcastle."
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Posted: Thu Jun 25, 2009 11:41 am
Emery smiled warmly back to him. "Good night. See you around, I hope."
Emery turned from the almost mystical half-light of the late-night streets, back to stark reality. A quiet sigh slipped through her lips as she crossed the threshold of the seedy apartment building. Emery didn't bother flashing my card to the lady at the front desk; she had already passed out. She pressed the button for the elevator and waited a moment as the old thing huffed and puffed its way down. She walked inside and pressed another button. Five dings. Clunk. The doors opened. She walked out and over to her tiny apartment. Unlocked it. Switched on the light. Closed the door behind her.
Home.
Emery yawned lethargically. She wanted to sleep so much, but she knew she couldn't. She had that feeling, that tugging on her mind, as if she was supposed to be doing something...but what was it? Emery threw a glance at the unfinished manuscript at her desk. That wasn't it. Her checkbook? No. The fridge? It was full. That letter to the president? She had sent it the other day. What could it possibly be?
Emery felt her gut tighten. Maybe it was just a bad feeling.
((IHABFAT. gonk We're doomed.
This is relying on what you have planned, Aer.))
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Posted: Fri Jun 26, 2009 11:56 pm
Adam sighed, looking over the apartment with a slight hint of disgust in his face. "This was the place where it happened... wasn't it?" he talked to himself out under the street light. He rubbed his temples. So far away... yet so close, like yesterday and a year before that it all feels the same.
"Hey! What's your name?" Thatch burst from the apartment complex, having ran down hastily, bumping Emery on the way down the stairs. "Yes you! What's your name?!" he yelled, frantic. A hand thrust into his pocket.
"What's it to you?" Adam jumped slightly.
"Obstella... you're Adam Obstella, right?" Thatch was no more than twenty feet away from the man, "Right?!"
"Y-" Adam's eyes widened as he saw Thatch pull a small pistol from his pocket. Just like before...
"Adam Obstella, that's you right!?"
Adam nodded.
Bang! The gun fired.
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Posted: Sat Jun 27, 2009 12:10 am
'Alone…'
Finally, she was alone.
Although not a safe place to even contemplate about being alone in, Abigail Waters could have sworn she had never felt so much relief at another point in her life. The dingy bathroom at the Yard House Bar was notorious for being unkempt and downright scary. Thus, a good place to hide in as the world comes crashing down.
Blankly gazing into the mirror above the sink, Abigail’s eyes were noticeably glazed over. Her pupils, dilated from the lack of light, or perhaps from the gnawing fear that churned her stomach, where empty; lost, even. The small woman supported herself on the arms of the sink, her face still locked to the mirror. Her eyes refused to look down. One glance, and it would change everything.
The mirror was unforgiving with what it told: an otherwise beautiful woman, currently stood with a pale face, dark eye liner or mascara ran black paths to her cheekbones, black hair that showed signs of being curled earlier now lay limp around her face, and eyes, eyes so bright with green now glazed over with untold fear.
The sloppy cadence of her heart increased in rhythm each time Abigail thought of looking at the finger-length-sealer-of-fate that lay dormant in the mouth of the sink. Her nude lips quivered at the very possibility…
“Please,” She murmured. With a sharp intake of air, Abigail felt as though her lungs were on fire. Her eyes fluttered to a close as she took another breath.
'1…'
It was a simple ‘yes’ or ‘no’, after all.
'2…'
How is it even possible,
'3…'
If she didn’t even remember that night?
Green eyes snapped open to read the device in the sink.
And there it was,
The pink plus sign that damned as well made her heart stop for a mere second.
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Posted: Sat Jun 27, 2009 7:27 pm
((I'm just spit-balling here, buuuut... It is currently... December. The 13th of December. Aaaat... 11:17 pm. Pacific Time.
-----
As Colin walked up the stairs to his apartment, he encountered Doctor Newcastle. With a smile and a friendly nod, he passed the good doctor and opened the door to the apartment, which was usually unlocked. Colin was happy that this was so, for he had forgotten his key when he left that morning.
After setting down his violin, starting up the macaroni-and-cheese dinner in the microwave and plopping down on the couch, he picked up the remote and turned on "Hang 'Em High," an old Clint Eastwood film. Aside from "Wrigley Down Under" and "The Magnificent Seven" (two more old Western films), Hang 'Em High was the only movie that Colin actually owned. He had recently come to own Star Wars Episode II, after paying the late fees he racked up from the Blockbuster down the street.
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Posted: Sat Jun 27, 2009 8:08 pm
[[Sounds perfect. :] And thanks,]]
'Plus…'
Abigail’s slender flingers quickly fluttered to her parted lips, her face frozen with shock. Her head grew dizzy with the sudden, thundering pulse of blood through her body. Almost habitually, her tiny hands dropped to her stomach.
Although she didn’t feel any different, the proof was there; laughing, seething, taunting her with a simple little plus sign that seemed to glow in the dimly lit bathroom. Her mind was strangely blank. There were no words, no thoughts, nothing.
The dry lump in her throat was almost too much to bear. Abigail finally let go of a shaky breath and dared to blink, her eyes quickly darting away from the sink. And for that mere second of averting her attention away from the scene, Abigail felt the shock start to drain away. Beyond that bathroom door, beyond this morbid sanctuary, lay judgmental eyes.
Not wanting to think, not wanting to feel, Abigail tenderly grabbed for the pregnancy test and stashed it in her purse. The soft buzzing of the flickering lights possessed an odd, calming effect. Abigail quickly blinked back to the mirror for the last time and frowned. Her reflection was a mess.
A shaky hand reached out to turn on the flow of water. It was cold at first, Abigail softly gasped in response. Her fingers idly toyed with the stream of water until it gradually turned warm. Wetting the pads of her fingers, Abigail dabbed at her eyes and cheeks, trying to clean away the smear of makeup.
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Posted: Sat Jun 27, 2009 8:33 pm
After a couple minutes of assessing the damage in the mirror, Abigail softly cleared her throat and stepped back from the sink. Her face looked cleaner, sure. Yet her rosy cheeks and glossy eyes still held evidence of the breakdown she encountered moments before.
Her lips involuntarily started to twitch again, a new wave of tears threatening to break free. Abigail squeezed her eyes shut and gently shook her head with protest.
Now was not the time to break down again; no, she would save that for home.
'Home,' Green eyes snapped open in response to the word. 'What home?' Abigail mused to herself. The quiet shuffling of feet was the only indication to her walking out of the bathroom, out of the building, and onto the cold sidewalk outside.
Her arms tightened around chest in response to sudden change of temperature.
Peridot eyes blinked up to sky in subtle curiosity. It had been snowing earlier, yet it seemed to have slowed down since then.
'It never snowed back home,' She shriveled her nose at the thought.
“But this is my home now.”
Her breath was visible in the cool air. Abigail hugged her jacket closer as she began the trek to her apartment a couple blocks down. It was visibly around midnight; people were either on their way back home just as Abigail or just now leaving to indulge on the night life of the city.
Shuffling her way through the occasional groups of people, Abigail couldn’t shake the feeling of having a giant target sign on her forehead. Her purse felt like a ton of bricks; the simple pregnancy test was haunting her.
'Should have just thrown it away…'
Soon Abigail found herself standing outside the apartment complex. And as if a drug user went through a relapse, Abigail felt her eyes sting with fresh tears.
She had never felt so alone.
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