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 Posted: Sun May 18, 2008 3:44 pm
"I'm late, late, late ..."
A horrid clatter had erupted as Elijah staggered down the road. His hands were rustling brutally, shifting and twitching beneath a pair of hand cuffs that he had been donning earlier for good reason. He had been in the middle of a trick experiment, of course - and had nearly figured out the matter when an epiphany had struck him at the core. He had a date.
His shoulders had wriggled wildly as he became the white rabbit. He strode with a bounce in his step, hoisting his arms up over his head and twirling as if to walk backwards for whatever reason. Then he had come to a complete halt. His back had pressed against a wall as he writhed with the things - finally freeing one hand. They were such tricky little things - and Elijah had to admit he had pulled a foolish move by refusing to use a pick to render the lock obsolete. That would have been cheating, he had told himself as he fought the remaining cuff off of his other hand. He had given a grimace, slamming his back against the wall; then the item had slipped off - and like that he was free, tossing the things off towards the sidewalk while throwing his hands in the air. "Bloody things!" He had wailed, rubbing at his aching wrists as he resumed his walk. The occasional eye to catch his had only brought a sheepish grin to his face - but the lace of bitterness over the red imprint bracelet marks remained etched into his face as he lifted his head from them.
His lips had tucked together like a pair of turtles sharing a shell. He had seemed to jog a skip before again stopping - lost for a moment until he saw the cafe sign. There was the place - just what he was looking for!
A sigh had been given as he hunched. His eyes had been downcast - and his hands had continued to wring at his uncomfortable wrists. Elijah was worried. He felt he had good reason to be. He was a decent amount of time late - his hands were throbbing ...
Nervously he had peeked inside. His body had grown tense, the hairs on his neck standing up as he stepped inside. In a frenzy, he had ruffled his orange hair, tugging lightly at the tuft before forcing himself to be still. Calm, calm..., he had echoed. Gradually he had began to relax. His shoulders had gone limp, and he had ceased the rubbing of his wrists. One hand had pushed up his bangs a moment as he scrutinized the location. Searching as a lost child might do.
Elijah was a mess standing at the entrance of that cafe; his white shirt crinkled and his collar off center. His shirt's sleeves were undone, and his shoes untied. When he looked at himself, he could only shake his head and give a groan. His face had become terribly red. It was certainly going to be an interesting time. But first ...
"Mordread?" He'd called out quietly. His back had straightened somewhat as he put on a wary smile. Step one: he needed to find the date - and oh, how he hoped he hadn't left!
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Posted: Sun May 18, 2008 4:21 pm
Unlike Elijah, his date had been precisely on time. There was no such thing as 'late' with the man unless something had come up with his children. Thankfully, as Rothe had promised, the younger children were being watched by his dutiful eye and likely getting into all sorts of mischief. Mordread, however, had decided to overlook that small detail and try to make the best of this date. Nothing would ever go right if he thought of all the horrible things that his children could be doing when he was out and about. Probably a reason why he hadn't left his home in the last few months. Or was it a year? Quite frankly, he couldn't remember how long it had been since he'd been one of the surface people.
He really hadn't wanted to come, if truth be told. The only reason he'd dressed himself up in a pair of nice slacks and the uncomfortable blue button up shirt that Morgan had insisted he wear ("Because, daddy, you can't show up without a shirt! It's not polite!") was because he really didn't want to anger his eldest son and get the snot beat out of him. It never was fun to go through that - especially when he'd seen the whips that Rothe possessed. It was, definitely, in his best interest to get out of the house.
Which led to the man sitting nervously at the counter, pulling apart one of the napkins and dumping the fragments into a pile that had, at one point, been at least three others. Late. His date was late, and the low self confidence that had surfaced sometime between Patrick's leaving, return, and then leave again, was bubbling up. Stood up. He'd definitely been stood up. In fact, he was about to stand up and give up when he heard his name being called from the entrance of the cafe.
Oh, thank goodness, his pride would not have to have more holes poked through it! "Elijah, then?" he asked, turning around and smoothing out his clothes nervously. Whether or not it was because there was wrinkles or because his palms were sweaty was anyone's guess at that point. At least he'd kept himself from jumping out of the seat with surprise when he'd heard his name. Somehow, he figured the staff wouldn't be pleased if he'd sent the four former napkins flying through every corner of the room.
He looked different from what he expected, though. Actually, scratch that. Mordread hadn't had any expectations at all, though the messy appearance and the lack of tied shoes did quirk his interest just a bit.
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Posted: Sun May 18, 2008 5:09 pm
The disheartened feeling to swell within his stomach had tainted his personality momentarily. He was growing loose, but still his shoulders sank in disappointment at the embarrassing thought of having been late. Elijah had simply been excited - that was all - and the promise of trying more difficult things tended to consume his mind without regard for discretion.
With a sigh, he had felt his lips fall to the shape of a frown. Then the sound of his name had captured his attention. Quickly he had refocused, his face long with peculiarity at the sight of a young man turning in his seat at the counter. The quiet frown that had plagued his form a moment had receded to make way for his slight smile. His red face had seemed to dim as he raised his arms as if to say 'here I am'.
"Yes, yes! Elijah would be me." He had lowered his arms, taking a few steps forward. His chest had heaved lightly as he inhale a deep breath; then he had come to a pause near the counter.
Elijah was an unorthodox figure, and he had to admit that he was not proud of himself. His button-up was half tucked into his slacks, and his slacks seemed to have suffered from the scuffle town the road. They were plated with dust marks and the occasional rock. He had began to notice, when he shifted there was an ache to his knees. Scrapes, he imagined - and it only led him to set a hand on the counter to remove the weight from them. Of course, his meticulous nature had forbidden he tend to the soreness before tucking in the remains of his shirt.
"Oh, I am quite sorry..." He had confessed with a light laugh. He had finished fixing his shirt - and with the task done he had glanced at the counter seats, seemingly drawn between the idea of sitting or standing. Presentation skills sought him out, however - and he had turned to Mordread with that cunning grin. "It wasn't my intention to have you waiting on me. I had started something and lost track of time." He had looked himself over, another light laugh escaping his throat. "Which would also explain this mess called a state." He had shaken his head; his eyes had seemed to cool over - the loss and frantic fear slipping away.
He was happy, and the relief washing over him was more than welcome as he finally eased himself to sit down. The red tint of his cheeks had drifted away with his mild anxieties, leaving only the pasty skin behind. "I do hope you haven't been here long?"
Elijah's head had cocked somewhat. His hands had been set upon his lap, left to lie limply in their deserved, albeit ephemeral, rest.
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Posted: Sun May 18, 2008 5:22 pm
"I have been waiting about ten minutes," he said with a shrug of his shoulders, "So it wasn't too long." Formality was not going to be made a show in this meeting, he knew. He wasn't a very formal man, in any means, unless it was forced of him. Which was likely why the shirt he wore made him want to rip it off. "But I understand your reasons for being late. I get like that when I write, so you don't need to worry too much."
Green eyes glanced down at the messy state that his date seemed to be in and quirked a grin himself, "Though I dare say you look more comfortable than I feel in this get up. My daughter insisted wearing a shirt was the only proper thing to do. Where she learned about propriety is beyond me, since I'd rather be in sweat pants alone, but she did nonetheless."
And Morgan was quite the hard headed little girl. Another trait she'd gotten and he had no idea from where. Probably Rothe.
"Just be lucky I didn't take my middle son's advice on what to wear." He very much doubted Elijah would have been keen on seeing him dressed like one of the Hell's Angels.
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Posted: Sun May 18, 2008 6:00 pm
Elijah had to admit: he had made better time than he had suspected when he had dashed out of his apartment. Ten minutes, while not good, was certainly better than the hour he had been estimating. A slight nod had been given of notation.
His memory of the profile he had read was jarred by the mention of writing. He could recall. That had been one of those drawing qualities. Elijah did like to read - he loved books and the pursuits of which they brought. Another world, as they called it. "It is easy to get lost in the things you love." He had confessed in a hum. "The greater the affection, the greater the occupation - as they say, but nevertheless interesting." Again he had nodded his head.
Then his lips had curled in a bemused manner. The quirked grin, and mention of a child's input was a fun thought. He could only imagine the process of getting ready under such circumstances. "As comfortable as I may be." Elijah's fingers had twiddled together as he set them down on the counter top. "Your daughter dressed you? Well, I'll say..." his fingers had tapped the table a moment, drumming a dim tune. His dark eyes, almost tired in appeal, were glued to the table until he yanked them away. "Sweat pants are far more comfortable. But," he had raised his brows lightly, "she did a rather dashing job nevertheless."
Slowing down was a pleasure - and Elijah had taken a brief pause to remind himself to breathe easy. His eyes had flickered across Mordread a moment before he had looked away, turning himself in his seat.
"How old would she be?"
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Posted: Sun May 18, 2008 6:11 pm
"That, I'd drink to, if there was a drink around here." He laughed easily, "But it's true. I think I lived in my room writing for the past year, and now my book will be published soon and I find myself at a loss of what to do." Ah, yes, the second book that he'd used to take his mind off of the happenings in his life. Now he had to face things! It was fun, fun times.
Ah, the process of getting ready for a date with someone who was not the child's father was an amusing thing indeed. Mordread had just felt more than awkward, but Morgan had jumped right in and told him, frank as always, that his fashion sense was worse than a drunk Madonna and he really needed the help.
"She did a better job than I would have done, I admit," Mordread answered, a smirk gracing his lips as he pushed the napkins aside, "She's ten years, there about. You know how things age in Gaia. So different from most, especially the children. If you ask when she was born, though, that would be...two years ago, this August."
Actually, his entire wallet was plastered with pictures of her and his other children, but mostly Morgan. Morgan as a baby, newborn with her twin brother, taking her first steps, dirty with a bowl of spaghetti on her head. Rothe hated his picture taken, Dax usually tried to break cameras, and the smaller babies hadn't done much for needing the pictures just yet.
"I have pictures, if you want." Like any parent, showing off babies. It likely wasn't the best way to start off a date, but then, Mordread had never been on a date before so it was a bit of a new thing. He hadn't bothered reading Dating for Dummies.
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Posted: Sun May 18, 2008 6:40 pm
Elijah had held a hand up as if to cheers. "I would be right with you to a drink." He had set his hand down. ""Do you drink coffee?"
He had paused, leaning away from his peeping over the counter at the sheer mention of Gaia's funny aging categories. It was a perplexing thing, but he knew about it vaguely. He had heard stories while walking the streets - of children born from all sorts of things, aging quickly - but nevertheless, they were children. The aging matters of Gaian things was no mystery. Even his mice seemed subjugated to the unorthodoxy. They had been with him for years far exceeding the supposed natural life span.
"You've got that right." Elijah had began. "This place is a world all its own. My mice? My mice have far exceeded what I would have expected them to. I'm grateful, of course, it'd be impossible to replace those two - but it is odd." He had grinned wildly, though it seemed uncharacteristically wiped at the idea of childhood innocence. If there was one thing Elijah was not keen on thinking about ... It was childhood. He loved children - but the prospect of possessing or losing a childhood was dreary and filled with nostalgia. Yet, it was an unforgettable thought ingrained with wonder. At the mention of children, Elijah could only hope to recall the size of his own family and his prior trophy role as youngest spawn.
"Ten's a ripe good age." He had murmured in thought, quirking at the ideology of family pictures. It did seem a little odd to him that any parent would carry pictures of their child with them - but he supposed he wouldn't understand the matter. He was most definitely not a parent.
"You've a large family, haven't you?" Elijah had asked, his brows lifting. His faint grin had stirred with the thought. "I had a large one once. Rather scattered, but growing up, correct?" Growing up changed everything. "I was the fifth in my family. Youngest at that - imagine! And here I'm pushing thirty in another four years."
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Posted: Sun May 18, 2008 6:51 pm
"Love coffee. Writers tend to live on the stuff, and I'm not different. Coffee and Mt. Dew." In fact, he really did need to go through his room and throw away the old cans that were littered everywhere. He'd been a little bit loose in his cleaning the last few weeks of writing, and lord knew he needed to do something to fix it.
"Mmm, mice." He tilted his head at the mention of them, finding it funny that his date owned mice while being out with a man who, by all rights, could eat them quite happily. His tail flicked slightly, and his ears went back, "You have them? My daughter wanted them, at one point, though I don't know whether or not it was to play with them, or eat them. She seems to have a lot more cat instincts than I do, when it comes to prey." At least he wasn't going to try and eat his pets. He liked fish more, anyway, and his tendency to dislike water and his love of milk seemed to be the only cat like traits the man had received from his other heritage.
The mention of a large family gave him is own nostalgia that he quickly tried to hide, "Eleven kids, though there are five that live with me. The oldest is maybe twelve or thirteen in age, and a right b*****d at that. The youngest are twins. Two or so." No, he had no qualms calling his son exactly what he was, "My ex has the other six."
Hard topic? Yeah, but he still adored his kids, quite a bit. Even the ones who didn't come by anymore. "Ha! The baby of the family. Were you close?" Mordread had been the only child, but he certainly wasn't going into his homelife unless he was asked, and even then there were certain parts that shouldn't be mentioned on a first date.
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Posted: Mon May 26, 2008 7:25 pm
Elijah's lips had curled at the quirky ideology of it all. It was true. Writers did seem to live off of coffee, just as he seemed to live off of pain killers. Tools of the trades, marks of the brand. Whatever one would say of the matters. Nevertheless, Elijah took a particular delight to it - and as he stood, he had glanced off at the counter again. Almost intent on the idea of having something to drink.
Something in his hand would likely calm him down - limit his need to be moving and acting. He was beginning to unnerve himself with the bursts. "Well, it's readily available, I will say." He had chimed musically, stretching somewhat. "How do you like it? Straight through?"
Elijah had thought little over the matter of his mice. There was an almost ironic drive behind the ideology of his being out with a man who ... quite possibly would be interested in devouring them. Still, Elijah was blissful and unobservant, only flinching at the idea of a child eating his companions.
It was an unthinkable horror.
"But two." He had confessed with a slight look of worry. "Houdini and Leopold. They're remarkably valuable - or rather, invaluable. You can't place value on what exceeds value." Elijah had cleared his throat. "Completely useful assets. They've been with me for years, and only the stars know why or what they've been through during that time."
He had paused again, looking almost surprised. Eleven children? Even divisible, that was a rather large sum - and he would never have suspected. Perhaps he should have read more carefully? Then again ... How little it mattered. Elijah had never quarreled with children, and though he had never desired his own, the idea of them wasn't enough to deflect him entirely. Yet, it seemed disheartening that the number was divided. Ah. Distant families; broken families. "Eleven, you say? My."
Deciding it would be better to leave the matter undiscussed, Elijah had only nodded briefly. "Aye, as some would put it - the baby, the baby." His nose had wrinkled at the thought, only to soften. He had been graced with the fortune of having his mother's attention - almost undivided. My, my. It had been a pleasureful thing, and he would not have wished it any other way, except to have prolonged the inevitability of her departure from his life. Close? It was difficult to say.
"Not particularly." Elijah had confessed lightly, humming softly in thought. "My siblings were quick to leave. I haven't spoken with them since. Not a very tight knit group, you could say. We all have our reasons, I'm sure." Ah, yes. Reasons. Reasons he ... Was surely not apt to bring up.
"Now, about that coffee?" He had yet again cleared his throat.
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Posted: Fri Jun 13, 2008 10:08 pm
"It's a good thing it's readily available," Mordread answered with a wry grin, "Or I think I'd be severely behind on several things." When one had as many kids as he did, and the deadline he'd had, well...Things did get a little hairy if you couldn't stay up. Thankfully, he had a heavy duty coffee pot ready to do battle that his kids had learned to always have prepared for him to flip a switch.
Okay, maybe it was pretty handy having that many kids around, so long as they were of walking age and could reach the top of a counter. "Black, with two sugars." Now, being feline, one would expect him to like milk in his coffee. But frankly, if one wanted to drown out the taste of one thing with something else, he wasn't going to stop them. He just wasn't going to be the one to do it.
The prospect of coffee actually relaxed the too up tight man and he leaned himself against the counter, watching his date while he talked. Not bad, now that he gave himself time to look him over. And he was getting him something to drink, so double points.
"Houdini and Leopold. The great escape artist and a holy emperor. Do they bare any resemblance to their namesakes?" He figured it would probably be a little bit of an inconvenience if one constantly escaped and the other thought he was King of Sheba.
Hearing the news of his family not being close, however, made Mordread's brow raise. Well, apparently they had something in common, though that was the last thing he was even going to bother bringing up. No, his own personal life was his own for now and certainly nothing to be spoken about on the first date.
Ahaha, he still couldn't believe he was on a god damn first date.
"Yes, yes coffee." He'd not comment, seeing that Elijah wished to migrate away from that particular topic.
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Posted: Sat Jun 14, 2008 2:28 am
Elijah had grinned somewhat at the idea of being behind. With deadlines in tow, he knew coffee to be saintly - and he could just remember the dozens of days he had relied on its caffeinated goodness to keep him from dozing off at the wrong moments. Granted, his dozing off would never have been imperative to his work or deadlines. Therein, he supposed, lied the difference. He held no deadlines. No true deadlines, anyway.
"No cream, Hm?" He had commented lightly, fishing his wallet from his pocket to have a peak inside. If there was one thing he never forgot, it was his wallet - no matter how chaotic or wild his days proved to be. His wallet always remained. Right pocket. Back side. "Always fancied mine black, too."
He had peeped into his wallet, closing it suddenly and looking up. His face had seemed filled with glee at the notation of the great escapist and the holy emperor. "Actually, quite so. Houdini is a little rascal, but devilishly talented for something supposedly so ignorant. He's remarkable at vanishing, and equally so with getting out of things or picking locks. I couldn't tell you the number of times I've watched him pick my apartment lock when I've locked the door and forgotten the key somewhere." He had seemed to think a moment. "And Leopold is a rather self-righteous one. Well-carried and meticulously grooming, perhaps a bit demanding and condescending. He's a character, I'll say." Elijah had shaken his head at the thought of them each. "Coincidentally, I didn't realize such behavior until the after fact. I'd actually named Leopold for his behavior - but Houdini? I recall simply picking the name for sake of picking it. Always admired the man, and he's possibly one of the greatest faces of escape art in the world, even deceased. One of the reasons I truly took to it." Thoughtfully, he had take a moment. "It looked entertaining - to do, not just to watch."
Clearing his throat, he had regarded the idea of coffee once more, excusing himself briefly to place the order for such beverages across the counter and to set the payment for them. As quick as could be brewed within a cafe, he had returned, carefully balancing the two before setting them down on the counter top and having a seat.
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Posted: Sat Jun 14, 2008 3:08 am
Mordread actually laughed at the mention of cream, "No. I adore milk, but I enjoy the flavor of coffee and milk separately, not coffee flavored milk. At least we have something in common in that regard. Coffee for coffee." Of course, he had to have his sugar otherwise it was too strong and bitter. Like most felines, bitter didn't sit well with him.
Elijah lighting up over the recognition of names hadn't exactly been expected, but it was appreciated nonetheless and coaxed a smile from the feline. Apparently, making someone else happy really was one of his 'smile' switches, and his tail flicked happily behind him. "Sounds like quite the characters. And quite handy to have around. Probably could open his own locksmithing shop if he wasn't a rat. I, however, doubt I could ever get into the entire escape artist thing. Knowing my luck, I'd go out the way the man did."
That truly didn't sound pleasant in the least bit. He watched Elijah go get the coffee and perked visibly when the cups were brought back, grabbing at one which he sincerely hoped was his, and brought it to his mouth to take a slow sip while it was still hot. "Mmm, coffee, how I've missed you," he murmured affectionately into his cup. Like he hadn't had it that morning and every morning past then. Honestly.
"Good things are the simple things." Not enough people actually used that philosophy.
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Posted: Sat Jun 14, 2008 3:56 am
Elijah had taken the remaining coffee himself, having a sip after blowing lightly on the cup. A childish gesture, but he scarcely seemed to concern himself with the matter of leaning over to blow on the hot fluid before taking small sips. Eventually they became longer until he had swallowed a bit of it and set his cup aside.
"Mm." An agreeing noise had been made at the notation of the philosophy. Indeed, simplicity was rather sweet. There was joy within such mundane things like the taste of coffee, or even the smile of someone's face. "Couldn't agree more." He had added quietly, the glimmer of his features brightening with his grin.
Glancing up, he had seemed almost amused at the prospect of the earlier comment of going out the way Houdini had. Memory served him correct, the man's appendix had been ruptured after repeated hits from a student at a college. "Always be mindful of the vitals; poor man's appendix rupture due to the inquisition of a student." He had taken another sip of his coffee. "I do find escape exhilarating, but I honestly wouldn't recommend it to anyone unless they were mindful of their limitations and willing to accept the dangers. It's a rush of an experience, but the danger is all too real if one wants to be authentic." His nose had scrunched somewhat. "Unfortunately, authenticity isn't as valued as it used to be. People tend to cheat in the world of escape, and they do it so distastefully." His shoulders had rolled back as he straightened himself somewhat. "I never could understand the desire to cheat. It almost destroys the wonder of it all."
His face had returned to ease as he took yet another drink from his coffee glass; then he had again set it down. "You're a writer, though?" The inquisition had appeared more of a statement as he cocked his head to the side. "What do you usually write about, if it's alright for my asking?"
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Posted: Mon Jun 16, 2008 4:18 pm
Childish gesture, indeed - but it didn't seem to bother Mordread in the least. He did that to his children all the time, often looking like the biggest nerd ever in existence. Of course his children had taken to rebelling against his uncool actions, leaving him being the uncool dad that he'd never really expected to be.
"I have to agree, though I suppose thrilling a crowd and getting the fame is certainly something that would allure most people into something without having to risk their own necks. In my observation, people are all too willing to risk it all...when it's not themselves at risk." Mordread found the study of people absolutely thrilling, and had he not been so in love with writing, his occupation of choice likely would have ended up being psychology...If he'd ever been able to pay for it, that was. It was hard enough keeping up with the bills in the big house they lived in now. Thank goodness for his ex having given them the house. No mortgage.
Idly, Mordread debated asking Elijah if he'd actually tried the escape artist aspect of entertaining just yet, but the man beat him in the questioning. "Yes. I write fantasy, though mostly I try to keep the element of realism in it as well. While I enjoy high fantasy, I enjoy giving readers the small thought that it could actually happen somewhere, and they just haven't discovered it yet."
Sure, living in Gaia the fantasy element was pretty much null and void, but he didn't come from Gaia, and so it was special to him. "I know in Gaia magic is a common practice amongst people, but I'm not a native Gaian," he explained, "And one of my most special memories as a child is being nestled in our gardens with a fairy tale book of some kind, imagining that things really could be happening, somewhere. Plausibility, given the right circumstances. Gives so much hope. A little goes a long way."
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Posted: Mon Jun 16, 2008 5:09 pm
Elijah had given a slight bow of his head as he finished the remains of his warm beverage. A tingle had slithered throughout his spine as his heart pattered, a certain deviousness lingering within his eye. Indeed, Mordread had the correct ideology behind such men and why they may be driven to cheat - but it was nevertheless something he failed to comprehend. The inquisition was always the 'why' - and perhaps he proved too romantically involved with his passions to ever understand the satisfaction behind a hollow act. He had never been capable of cheating. False glory was nothing more than a fraud, after all.
Finding the matter somewhat infuriating, he pushed it away for sake of himself. He had no wish to be angry - not when he felt particularly content, particularly pleased. His company had proven more than intriguing, and Elijah found it almost fantastical.
"There's almost nothing quite like a fantasy novel." He had commented, humming lightly as he set his empty cup onto the counter and nudged it a short distance away. "I used to read them when I was younger; all of the time. Or, well, those fairy tale collection books. Books of adventures and conquests." He had almost laughed at the thought of them. "They're a different flavor. More than enough of an escape from reality, you'd think. Books do have that power to give a bit of hope to an unpleasant circumstance."
Sitting back somewhat, Elijah had tried to keep his hands still - but it was a difficulty. He had eventually found himself fiddling with a quarter, winding it idly through his fingers as he thought or spoke.
"To be honest, I never had the luxury of true magic." His lip had quirked slightly. "One of those unfortunate ones, you could say. No powers, majestic qualities. Plain. Mundane, and human." He had laughed somewhat again, grasping the quarter in his hand and opening it again. The coin was no longer there. Vanished.
"One of the reasons I always enjoyed those fantasy novels. So much more interesting. always did like historic pieces as well, mind you. Simply epics." His smile had brightened somewhat, the Cheshire Cat grin glimmering against his face. "You'll have to show me something of yours some time, if that's alright? I haven't read anything in a good while."
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