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 Posted: Sat Jan 30, 2010 10:49 pm
Just in case, Tate got there early. Her hair was brushed, face a little pink from sustained scrubbing; it wasn't her own machinations, but her mother's--which was actually the reasoning behind every time she dressed up nice. The nice turtleneck she was wearing even looked new.
It was a sight no one should get used to.
She leaned on the hood of her car, power bead bracelet clicking against the friendship bracelet she still had from camp with Giselle when they were fifteen. Her new cell phone in its blue case juggled from hand to hand; she was anxious, worried. What if Ladon didn't show? He'd texted her to say that they'd been let out of practice. Three days of saying hello in the hallways didn't measure up to visiting someone at their house, after all, and Tate was pretty skittish about that...
Just... she missed talking to people. Giselle was rare as she remembered from last October, and... There was nothing that said she couldn't have friends over, and... not like she cared what Mariska thought, but. Her mother had actually really looked at her for once. Her mother had looked at her and smiled. It made her stomach roil with disgust, but at the same time...
Tate sighed. He'd show up, and they'd go watch Howl's Moving Castle, and maybe... maybe be friends. They seemed like they could become fast friends...
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Posted: Sat Jan 30, 2010 11:29 pm
The week had been an uncomfortable one, and he couldn’t help thinking over and over how his meeting with Tate would go. It had been first time he had been invited to a girl’s house that wasn’t his sister’s and he felt conscious of himself. He was more aware of his hairstyle, more judgmental of his clothes, and at one point wondered if his shoelaces didn’t look white enough. Working himself into knots, he had spent more time than it was healthy deciding what to wear. He didn’t to appear to have spent the time and effort he was putting in his attire, but didn’t want to look at if he was a bum either. The first time he had seen Tate, he had been caught off guard, wearing nothing but a pair of gym clothes after a long practice. Having not thought of their encounter at first as something that would last aside from offering a helping hand, he hated himself for not making a better impression right from the start. He almost regretted ever talking to Tate, as he no longer had the comfortable monotony he had every other week where he knew what to expect. He’d grown use to making him blend into the background that that a little glimmer of friendly attention was making his feel strange, which was saying something after what he was going through. You’d think that with being in the Negaverse, he would be concerned with bigger things, but he found that patrols were already hard to focus on with a invite for Friday on his calendar.
He finally settled on sneakers, a pair of nice jeans, and a navy blue sweater that was very soft. He tried to slip his own tastes as easy as he could, and if he couldn’t do that, often went for clothes that were very comfortable. Seeing as he was stressed, his clothes were the only comfort he had about now. Having made sure he cleaned off very well without spending forever in the showers, he dressed and grabbed his backpack, deciding he’d leave his duffle in his locker and pick it up on Monday to get washed. He wasn’t about to bring them into Tate’s nice car.
Gripping his phone, he made his way out, the cold air crisp as it whipped through his still damp hair. Looking out, he spotted Tate leaning on the hood of her car. He wasn’t much of a guy to be able to give the make and year at a glance. Trying not to run up, he swiftly made his way over. “Sorry for the wait.” He said, stuffing his phone into his pocket. “Nice car.” He had no idea if it was a nice car or not. It could have been a piece of unreliable crap for all he knew, but it was Tate’s car, and that instantly made it worth commenting.
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Posted: Sun Jan 31, 2010 12:31 am
Tate looked up when she heard footsteps approach; her greenish eyes were always wide, but they looked almost weirdly large in her anxious face. Once she'd seen, though, that he was approaching her--looking at her--she smiled. A little. It was painfully awkward, almost too slow, but it was there, a smile. She felt accomplished.
Her boots made cheerful little tup tup! sounds as she set her feet back on the ground properly; winter still gripped Destiny City tightly, and Tate had always gone down easy on ice. Never in these boots, though, which was why she'd worn them; she didn't want to look like an idiot.
"It's not a problem," she said, pulling on her own ponytail. In her gloved hands now was her ring of keys: There were many plastic membership tags, some keys that looked like they might be for a bike, a house key... No car key, just a remote, and the reason for that was obvious when she opened the door. The car was running, key in the ignition, which was why she'd been sitting on the hood; it was warm. She laughed at his comment about her car, but it wasn't an unfriendly laugh. More of a release of tension than anything, that ended almost as soon as it began.
Life couldn't be stressful when a guy was calling her 2001 Ford Focus 'nice'. "It works, I guess." Tate smiled now, for real, and unlocked the passenger-side door before swinging herself in. "How did practice go," she asked; "Throw your backpack in the back seat, otherwise you won't have any leg room." The drive wasn't long, but it wasn't short, either...
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Posted: Sun Jan 31, 2010 7:46 am
“Oh, it was pretty fun. We’re all trying to get as much practice in until the real snow hits. After that, we can to do it indoors, and that really isn’t as great.” Meadowview didn’t have all the luxuries of places such as Crystal who probably could afford a indoor track, or the harsh teachers of Hillworth who would make boys run in the snow (though Ladon probably would be up for even that). Since she didn’t know much about the subject, and he didn’t have much to say about it, he threw his backpack in the back and sat down on the passenger’s side, having no need to claim shotgun. Still, it felt like a privilege and he put on his seatbelt and hoped that Tate would do the same.
The ride there was memorable in it’s awkwardness, and he felt his fingers grab the cuff of his sweater, pulling at the ends as he tried to think of something else to talk about. Aside from their random greetings in the hallway, none of them had spent any time since their first meeting, and even then, that wasn’t much to bring in any fresh topics. Not having the most epic of lifestyles to talk about, he instead hoped her house was not too far away.
His eyes roamed outside for topics. A old man walking his dog – Ladon didn’t have pets. A motorcycle – he wouldn’t be caught dead on one. Looking at the dashboard, he licked his lips. “How long have you been driving?” It was the worst subject he could bring up. He didn’t even drive! He’d probably run into a telephone pole with his luck. There had been little effort on his mother's part to teach him, and he wasn't really pushing it. Personally, he liked running here and there that the need for a car wasn't as important to him as most kids his age. In a city, you could even take the bus if you needed.
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Posted: Sun Jan 31, 2010 11:51 am
For a minute, it looked like she wasn't going to put on her seat belt; she was putting the car in reverse, still no seatbelt. After checking to make sure she was clear to back up (the school parking lot was nearly empty) she finally put on her seatbelt. "Ugh, I hate snow," said Tate unhappily; "I'm glad we've managed to avoid it so far." Which meant she'd never driven on snow, which didn't bother her at all. She backed out of her parking spot and got them on the road with a minimum of fuss.
"Err... A year and some," she said, "but only alone for a month. About a month." She hadn't managed to catch what year he was; had he had driver's ed yet? "I started late, Mariska--my mother--decided not to let me get driving lessons."
The roads were deserted, which worked out for the best, because in no time, Tate was parallel parking in front of a row house. It was well-maintained and clearly owned by one family, like every other house on the quiet and tree-lined street. She put the car in park and unlocked the doors before reaching behind her chair to grab her bag and getting out and walking quickly to the door. "I'll drive you home, so if you want to leave your stuff there, that's all right," said Tate over her shoulder as she unlocked the door.
She didn't leave much time to look through the house; they walked through an entre-sol where Tate took off her boots and put them in a cupboard, down a long hallway painted sterile white with occasional artsy black-and-white photos (glimpses of a modern kitchen and living room were had, all black and white) and then up a spiral staircase. "Bathroom's here," she said, slapping her hand on a white door. "And this is my room."
This door was also white, but remarkable for a magnetboard. A masculine hand--not Tate's, it was very different--had scrawled out a schedule along the top of it. The rest of the space was full of sloppy notes signed "your mother"--Party at the Jacobsens', show up at 6:30. Are you going to the Petrovas' Friday night. Give me your laptop. She hastily rubbed out a fourth message before Ladon could see it. There was a magnet of a cute little dog-thing that Tate tapped as she opened the door.
Her room was dark, even after she flipped on the lights. It was kind of small, too, in contrast to the rest of the house; her walls were painted a vibrant red, the trim was black, and her carpet was pristine white. If there were stains, she had covered them. A desk was wedged in the space between her bed and the wall, a laptop and a lamp the only things on it. An entire wall was devoted to books, arranged around a flat-screen TV that had more gaming systems in front of it than most people saw in their entire lives. There was a small couch, with room for two people (three, if they were all as skinny as Tate), and a side table on which was a bowl of popcorn.
Tate's walls were covered in posters. Frightening posters, really; for games like Fatal Frame II (two girls in white kimono holding hands, one was covered in blood) and movies like Silent Hill (a girl with no mouth). She had a row of figurines on the window sill and guidebooks were stacked underneath what looked to be a DVD player. The worst part was how well Tate fit in that space; it wasn't like seeing a cheerleader there. Her room made sense for who she was.
There was an antique moose stuffed animal on her bed (which had a straight red coverlet and black pillows). Tate gestured at the couch while she connected the DVD player. "Sit where-ever you like," she said.
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Posted: Sun Jan 31, 2010 3:24 pm
Until Tate had put on her seatbelt, Ladon had been watching her, becoming closer to telling her that she should put one on. It was one thing he felt was too important to shrug off. It had been a habit of his in his family that when his father forgot, he use to sit and keep telling him over and over in the backseat until he put it on. While he wouldn’t have been that annoying, he would have still been persistent. Once Tate did, he breathed out and could finally listen.
What struck him as odd was that Tate referred to her mom by her first name before calling her ‘mom’. Mariska. It sounded foreign, but is also sounded stranger in that he knew her name. It was usually Mrs. So-and-So, and he felt he knew too much in knowing the mother’s name and didn't now what to do with it. Ladon couldn’t even remember the last time he said his mother’s first name. It had always been ‘mom’ or ‘my mom’ when he talked about her. If he every used her first name, he knew his mother would think it as disrespectful and be very sour with him. It wasn’t something he was going to try out.
“You’ve very good for a recent driver.” At least they weren’t lunging forward with each stop, and she was staying on her side. He could see that much, but he was still grateful for the seatbelt.
The house was quaint, but nothing so different or striking as it’s neighbors. He went up and into the house, following her example to take off his shoes and following her up. There was no grand tour of the house, and he had to catch glimpses of rooms to get a general idea before they moved on, getting a sense of class and what he often read was called “modern chic” or so he thought.
Rising up the steps, he made note of the bathroom and then followed her into the darkness that was Tate’s room.
It was FAR from what he expected, and he felt very out of place. The white carpet made him wary of leaving stains, the dark reds made him think of blood instead of any of the warmth it should have brought to mind, and the dark black made it look new age. The wall of books made him believe Tate was more well-read, which she probably was since she seemed older, and the game-system made him think of price tags. The first thing that came to mind was that Tate was spoiled, but he didn’t like putting that title on his new friend. The message board came to mind as he glanced at the door. Dinner parties and having to talk to your kid through messages? Was Tate high class or was he just missing something? He suddenly wished he dressed up a bit more.
“You’re rooms..” Scary as hell? “...really nice.” He moved over to the couch and sat down, setting his hands on his knees as he looked around. A particularly gory posters of a girl covered in blood made him cringe and he scooted down the couch. How could THIS be a girl’s room?
The only thing that he could find any safety in was the moose, something he wanted to rush over and save from all the frightening images around it. He left it for now.
“You like horror movies?” He asked, not really remembering Fatal Frame 2 ever being advertised in theaters before.
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Posted: Sun Jan 31, 2010 8:47 pm
Tate was watching him from her bed, where she'd retreated after putting the DVD in; she'd lost her socks at some point while he was looking around, for reasons obvious because the carpet was pretty soft. Static electricity had to be common, and with the gaming systems it was clearly a concern. "Looks bad, huh," she said, gesturing to the mess of cables and games. "Mariska and Iuri don't pay much attention to me, so Uncle Ivan tries to make up for it by giving me things." Unspoken was the fact that it didn't really work.
Was he scared of the posters or something? He was kind of inching around like he was, or like anime had led her to believe frightened people acted. Well, she didn't have much comforting; a wall of books in Japanese that she didn't really understand, a pile of game systems... There was...
She picked up the moose after a minute and brought it over to Ladon, holding it out for him to take, if he so chose. "This is Theodore," she said, "after the president. If you're scared, you can hold on to him. I know my room's kind of rated R."
Tate settled down on the couch next to him; she was so lanky it kind of looked like a marionette falling down without strings. "Anyway, the movie's not that scary." She passed him the case. "I loaned out my English version to someone; do you mind if we watch it in Japanese? I have others in English, if you prefer. And I always watch with subtitles and they're not that distracting..." She seemed to realize she was rambling, and she shut her mouth with an audible click.
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Posted: Sun Jan 31, 2010 9:17 pm
Ladon took it that Iuri was Tate’s father, and he was again confused as to why she didn’t just say her mom and dad. He was suspicious that there was something negative in the fact she only used their first names, and it was seemed more the case when Tate admitted she was ignored by her parents. While she was open enough to just give him the reason why, he still wondered if it was too touchy to talk about. “Oh..” He tried not to sound as if he was taking pity on her, and instead looked at the mess of cables, wondering how long it would take to unravel them. Feeling daring, he tested how far he could push the topic. “….are they busy people? Your parents?” He wondered if there was a reason that kept them away or if they simple wanted nothing to do with her. The idea of having two parents too preoccupied with work was a better idea to him than two parents too preoccupied with themselves, but not by very much. At least the former made them appear hardworking and gave a glimmer of hope that they had just didn't noticed the harm they were doing. There was also the question as to how long this had been going on? From all that she had in her room, he was guessing many, many years.
“I guess you don’t have any siblings?” He continued, guessing that if she did, she might have someone to keep her company. She must feel small in such a big house. “Your Uncle seems to care a lot, at least to try and give you a distraction.” He looked around, wondering how much of her room had been gifts to keep her from noticing there was no one there.
Meeting Theodore was just the thing to bring his mind away from the darker shadows of thought, and holding his hands up automatically, he took the plush with a quick flush of pink around his ears. “You’re room’s fine. - but thanks” Her room was scary. What sane person posted images of dead people on their walls? He didn’t see how this could make her feel any better. Still, he did see something that might have perked up her spirits, and that was in the plush animal he set beside him. "Theodore looks very sweet." Ladon was all too familiar with the quite comfort of a stuffed friend, and he was very glad to be introduced to the creature. It brought a sense of peace to him he didn’t otherwise feel in the room, and he was put at ease, at least enough to not be too disturbed by the pictures.
“I don’t mind reading. You don’t have to go through the trouble.” His plan was to not be a nuisance to her and make the visit go smoothly. So far, it wasn’t going half bad, and he eased back into the couch. It really was like having a little, private, movie theater.
Thinking, he looked back. "Do...you know a lot of Japanese?" If she kept several copies, he wondered if she had been taught or picked it up.
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Posted: Sun Jan 31, 2010 10:14 pm
She gave him a look. It was not a good look, it was a kind of scary look, but she sighed and reached down to grab the remote off the floor. "Not really," she said, hitting the power button and settling back into her seat. "Mariska doesn't work at all." She shrugged, passing it off as nothing. There was a reason she was by and large ignored; she knew it; and she didn't want to share. But she, very hesitantly, patted his shoulder in appreciation for the sentiment. It was nice, sort of, to meet someone who tried to make excuses for her parents.
"Nope, it's just me," she confirmed, and she settled in to watch the previews. They were all out of date; she owned every movie advertised. "Uncle Ivan's pretty neat. He tries to beat me in checkers sometimes." He apologized every time for how Mariska and Iuri acted. Against her better judgement, or perhaps in spite of it, Tate did trust and love her uncle.
The menu page popped up after a while, and she smiled at Ladon. "I've had him since I was six," she confided, grabbing the bowl of popcorn and offering it to him. "He's a good friend."
Unspoken, but clear, was I hope we'll be good friends too. Tate wasn't too good at emotional expression when it didn't involve violence. "I don't speak Japanese at all." She turned on the subtitles and hit play on the remote. "This is my favorite movie," she sighed, "but don't tell anyone that. I keep up my 'badass normal' image by telling them I eat, sleep, and breath horror anime."
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Posted: Sun Jan 31, 2010 10:52 pm
The look threw him off, and the hand by his side squeezed one of the limbs of the moose by his side. The pushed the boundaries of the topic and found that this was the point that he couldn’t cross. Not without getting another look like that again. Noted. It seemed family, as far as parents went, was out of the rang of conversation topics he had to work with, and the way their conversations were going, he was finding it hard to really work with what limited knowledge he had of Tate and what limited socials skills they both seemed to have. It was good that they had a movie to otherwise fill in their time, and he settled, taking some of the offered popcorn and watching the screen as the movie started. To his surprise, the cartoon was VERY detailed.
As the movie played, he glanced at her, wondering how she spent every day alone in the house. Who was taking care of her? Sure, a kid could do a lot on their own. He spent many nights at home when his mother was still working and sometimes went to bed before she came home. Still, he always knew she would eventually come home, and they still talked. If he broke his leg, he knew she was going to be there to freak out. Maybe her Uncle was that someone, and he hoped he was.
“You’re uncle sounds really nice. I’d like to meet him sometime.” He really did, if things went well, he hoped he could meet someone who actually cared enough to scold Tate’s parents for what they were doing and took some responsibility. Then again, how much could he give when he wasn’t here now? It all seemed ‘******** up’ to him.
Looking at the moose, he patted it it’s lumpy head. “Well, it’s good at least have one good friend who’s always there.” He was implying something as well. “I promise I won’t ruin your image if you won’t do anything to mine.” There were a lot of things that could ruin Ladon, and he had put too much effort in keeping his own image. Even this friendship. If Tate was the type, as many people he met were, to be mean, she could do plenty of damage to his image. Then again, there was also something to gain. He really felt he needed to gain something, and he could see she needed that too.
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Posted: Sun Jan 31, 2010 11:31 pm
Tate curled up tighter on the couch, arms around her knees; the look on her face as she watched Howl's Moving Castle could be described as 'interested' but really was 'enraptured'. Clearly this was one of her favorite movies, if not the favorite. She seemed determined to prove it, too, offering bits of trivia every few minutes. Little things like: "In the English version, the wizard Howl is voiced by Christian Bale," said casually, like it meant nothing, "Batman." She smiled then and resettled herself, just in time for the pretty brunette Sophie to be turned into an old crone.
"Uncle Ivan is the best," said Tate quietly after a long pause in the flow of trivia. Then, more hesitantly, "He might be home tonight. If you want."
It seemed like she was a little more open when the lights were out and there was something distracting on. She tore her eyes away from the screen to smile at Ladon. "Don't think I could ruin your image if I tried," she said, "but I promise too. I won't ever even try."
She half-wondered how old he was; sometimes he acted her age, and sometimes just a little younger...
"What year are you, Ladon," she asked during a break in the action of the movie; Howl had become a bird almost entirely, and there were dancing star-people.
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Posted: Sun Jan 31, 2010 11:51 pm
Ever since he was young, Ladon liked illustrated books. Most notably the ones with soft water colored pictures and etchings that caught his eye. Over the years, it had been a love over the pictures, but he also started to read them and like the stories that came with them. While he had the imagination for his stuffed animals, he couldn’t see himself writing a good story, and enjoyed the ones written by other people who had far more talent than he could ever hope to have, both in art and writing. They ranged from folk stories, old Greek classics, to small animals in little clothes. All had their own little words and he fell in love with both the complex detail of some, and the simplicity of others. His book collection was very different to Tate’s, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t easily taken in by the story. It had something new to it he never saw in a movie before, and it wasn’t soon till he had Theodore in his lap as he held one it’s arms, looking at he movie for the first time and fresh to enjoy all it’s secrets. From Howl’s tantrum, to Sophie’s own lack of self worth, to the war between the two countries. It had it all.
The trivia came and went, and he’d nod with the story. It was really hard to shake off the image of Batman and Howl now, but luckily the Japanese voice didn’t sound close to the gruff, throat-scratching voice of the Dark Knight.
“I can’t be out too long. I sort of have a curfew. My mother doesn’t know you, so she wouldn’t want me out too long.” It made him sound young, and he wished he could just stay longer. Plenty of kids his age stayed out till midnight, and he had to suffer with going home early. Before it was just to run, but this time around, he had to friend to actually feel a sense of loss over returning home early. It made him wonder if he could sneak out.
“I’m a sophomore. ” A few months from now, but it was something. His eyes went back to the movie, not wanting to miss anything. “I’m 16 – but I’ll be 17 in June.” Sometimes older kids didn’t like hanging out with younger ones. He twisted Theodore’s arm. “What year are you?”
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Posted: Mon Feb 01, 2010 12:10 am
Tate had never had a curfew; of course she knew about them, because Giselle had had one when they were younger, had one again now that she was back from the dead, and sometimes curfew featured pretty prominently in anime and manga. Her parents tended to set limits on where she had to be when, not when she had to be back from, when.
"What time do you need to be back," she asked, sounding disappointed; "I guess next time you can meet him, he comes over whenever he has a night off." She had her suspicions as to why, and hoped they weren't true. Her uncle was above doing such things with his brother's wife. She knew he was.
He had to be.
She leaned hard onto her knees again, staring at the movie again. "A sophomore, huh? I'm a senior--I just turned eighteen last December. So we're pretty close in age, if not in year." A pause, and then, "I started early."
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Posted: Mon Feb 01, 2010 5:44 am
“Usually around 7 on a weekday, but 9 for Fridays and Saturdays.” It wasn’t much of a window, but a lot of fun could happen in 2 hours. His mother liked to say that he should be back by dinner on weekdays in order to talk and to make sure he ate, not to mention be home, safe from terrorists on the news, and keep tabs on homework. The last thing she wanted was for him to be sent to the hospital, which she thought was a sure thing considering his stature and what was proven to be looks that attracted unwanted trouble. She also didn’t want for her own parenting to come into question if she just let him ‘run wild’ all night. It had become sort of a joke considering what he really was getting up to at night. Staying late to see a friend’s relative was safe in comparison.
He wondered if her uncle would come home early, or that her version of tonight was shortly past 5 or 6. Winter made it night earlier now, and he hoped to meet at least one member, and in his eyes the only one worth seeing at this point. “You’re welcome to see my mother. She’s usually home on the weekends, and I’m sure she’ll want to meet you. You know, to bring a face to a phone number.” Ladon’s mother was the type to want to meet a friend before she accepted them as such, not only to make sure he wasn’t lying, but to give her own opinions. When he mentioned he was going over to a friend’s house, she had been embarrassingly curious and asked him plenty of questions. Then again, it had been a while before he used the term ‘going to a friend’s’ without it being a lie.
“I have a sister too.” He added, but didn’t think he wanted to introduce Lila to Tate just yet. It was just good to put it out there right now that he had one. For now, he was just happy he knew Tate and no one else in his family. His mother was a necessity to meet, but he had the luxury of pushing off the rest.
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Posted: Mon Feb 01, 2010 8:38 pm
She fluffed out her hair as the movie began to wind down; then, her green eyes wide, glanced to the clock. "Well, it's only five," she said, "Uncle Ivan won't be home for another hour at least. Maybe you will get a chance to meet him?" Tate sighed. "My mom might barge in. I mean, I locked the door, but she has the key, you know? She's convinced that having a "boy" "friend" over means I'm suddenly..."
With a shake of her head, Tate turned her attention back to the screen. "Sure, I'll go meet your mom," she agreed. "When I drop you off?" Yes. This was going so well! No insults, no weird looks, he even didn't seem to mind her room...
Privately, she allowed herself to acknowledge that she was trying so hard because. Well. Giselle was nearly as absent as she had been when dead. And Ladon, he was... One of the first people to do something genuinely nice for her since... a long time ago.
The movie ended, flipped back to the main screen. Tate was smiling happily.
"Anyway, if you want to head out now, that's all right," she said, in a tone that clearly was asking him to stay longer. "If not, I have other movies. And, well, video games..."
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