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Dangerous Conversationalist
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 Posted: Wed Jul 10, 2013 3:01 pm
Who: Basil/Banter, Genie, Cesc, Vivi
Where: The Baseball Diamonds, Durem Park
Weather: Hot, dusty, and cloudless
"Awh hell, they're back again. This is getting ridiculous." Genie brushed away a blur of yellow-and-black that was making an ambitious run at her thigh.
Basil turned his head. "I can he-elp..." He said. Help was two syllables in a way that distinctly reminded Genie of a four-year-old. She smiled patiently.
"Basil—no. Really. It's fine. You sit tight." Swat. "It's just a few bugs. If it gets too bad, we'll move."
Sweat bees. In Genie's opinion, they were the absolute a**s of the insect world, with horse-flies as a close second.
She was wearing a pair of jean-shorts, her bare knees pressed against the hot metal bench. Perspiration was jeweling on her skin and they couldn't resist. She skootched a little closer to Basil, as though the extra two inches would be too far for them to bother.
One of them took to the air, flying in tight, confusing semi-circles, annoyingly too close to her face. Another inspected a sticky soda-stain further down from them. They were alright for now. She took the opportunity to glance at Basil. Check his vitals.
As usual, his face was a mask of impassivity. Focused on a point in the horizon. He was putting on weight and color again, but there was still a hollowness in his cheeks and under his eyes that aged him. She didn't like it.
Two days ago the stitches had finally come out of his palm. He didn't make much of a fuss. While the nurse tweezed and snipped, he seemed to go someplace else for a while. Somewhere less real than reality. He seemed to be in that place now.
A shiny pink scar ran the length of his palm with an aura of red around it. It began just under his middle finger and feinted right at the bottom in a sort of fish-hook shape. As she held his hand, she brushed her thumb against it sympathetically. If he was aware of the gesture, he didn't show it.
He had the hood of his sweatshirt pulled up over a baseball cap. A fashion-choice that would have made the cover of Kiddie-Diddler Weekly. Nobody would sit near them. In her matching cap, Genie took a wet bite out of her hotdog and two pulls on the straw of her Big-Gulp. Flat Dr. Pepper.
The air had a hot metallic smell, like blood or smelting copper. Other aromas mixed in. Fair-food; sugar; sweat; hot dust; leather. The salty perfume of little league baseball.
What had started as a peaceful walk through the park had turned into an impromptu visit to the diamonds, where an energetic game was going on between two equally matched teams of fourth-graders. Genie wasn't sure who was who. A jumble of red jerseys and grey jerseys. So far she was more partial to the red guys.
Genie was for the most part indifferent to sports, but not totally averse to them. She was not what you would call sporty or especially active in her everyday life, but knew enough that she could swing a bat or throw a football proper. Growing up she had once even considered co-coaching a girl's softball team, but it hadn't panned out.
Sitting in the stands with Basil, she didn't bother explaining the rules to him, although she had the vocabulary to do so. Both because she didn't feel like it, and because she knew Basil didn't particularly care. She was convinced that he had just needed some rest. A place to sit. Somewhere he could soak up the sun and get lost in his head for a while.
She offered the Big-Gulp to him. He accepted it without looking at her, taking a few perfunctory sips. He didn't much like human food, but made a special exception for root beer. When he was finished he shook the cup at her, and she took it back from him.
Again she felt the pinch of legs on the sticky skin of her thigh. She jolted. "Damn these bugs!"
Basil stirred beside her, slow-blinking. An otherworldly glow appeared under the thick black cotton of his sweatshirt, like he was smuggling a flashlight.
Within seconds, the sweat bees began making drunken circles in the air, like bomber-jets clipped by enemy fire. Genie watched with subdued fascination as they stuttered in-flight, then scattered as one. Down near the benches, someone's beagle became restless. It was sitting on the lap of a middle-aged woman in a green canvas deck chair, where it woke with a start. It shook its head, the ears flapping cartoonishly, which made Genie smile. It began looking quickly from side to side, helpless to understand. It was cute. Until it started yapping.
Yeah, dogs weren't exactly fans of ultrasound. But then, neither were bees.
Genie looked at Basil. He was smiling too, but differently than Genie. A sort of knowing smile. She patted his arm and took another hit of the soda.
Good boy.
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Posted: Sat Jul 13, 2013 8:24 am
"Il y a une place pour s'asseoir," came a voice from behind the duo, a low and pleasant masculine voice.
The owner of the voice was floating down the metal bleachers, one hand carrying a folded, dusty leather baseball glove. He was dressed like a regular baseball fan, wearing a heather-grey and white raglan tee with a three-button placket and three-quarter sleeves. He wore a white baseball cap that seemed rather strange, as a pair of sharp-tipped velvet antlers and soft ears protruded from its fabric like some kind of bizarre ornament. Indeed, it would have been easy to think that the ears and antlers were some kind of addition, if it were not for the fact that the ears flicked now and again, or swiveled gently toward sounds. Pink hair curled crisply around the cap's brim. The face was boyish and clear, the warm eyes focused on the game.
A decent pitcher, he thought. Catcher still afraid of the ball. Batter, too. But it was all part of what made little league such an entertaining watch.
Beside him was a woman who seemed rather like she did not sweat, a pretty petite thing in large white-framed sunglasses and microscopic tailored red shorts. Her shirt was white and voluminous, fluttering around her in the intermittent breeze. She wore red tennis shoes to make the outfit appropriate, and broad, somewhat alarming smile.
"Ah, bon!" She exclaimed, catching sight of the empty seats, all but dancing down the remaining steps and leaving her entranced companion behind. The Frenchwoman slid easily into the seats just in front of Genie and Basil. She fanned herself as she sat, turning back with a laugh: "Vous pouvez faire cuire un œuf sur la tête-- oh!"
As she turned, she caught sight of the pair she had passed, suddenly sweeping her gaze over Genie and Basil for the first time. Behind the dark glasses, her eyes rounded, and her mouth went into a perfect 'o'. The faces, she knew them, ever so dimly -- it took them a moment to fall into place. She sat up straight, still turned in her chair, and her round mouth pulled into a smile as Cesc caught up with her, finally focusing on Vivi instead of the game, turning to see whom had captured her attention.
A Raevan? The stag did a double-take, his eyebrows lifting. For a moment, he felt a touch awkward, not knowing what to say without his guardian making her usual introductions.
"Oh!" Vivi gasped again, as recognition dawned. A sick child, she remembered him, admiring her spoons and trying on her voice for size. Here he was again -- and no less ill-looking, if she was honest. But that was nothing. Vivi returned to the present, shaking off her surprise and putting out a hand. "Forgive me! Is that -- miss -- Genie, I think it was?"
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Dangerous Conversationalist
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Posted: Sat Jul 13, 2013 3:24 pm
The voice behind them was not so sudden or unpleasant to startle the two, but it did have an unusualness to it that couldn't help but be noticed. Genie's lips never left the soda straw as she turned over her shoulder to see, her eyes popping open obscenely at the sight of what had to be the most... flamboyant Raevan in creation.
She did the polite thing, trying to observe him in a series of subtle glances. She was only peripherally aware of his female companion. Basil noticed her, but only by the tinny sound of her feet on the bleachers. He'd been hearing that musical sound all day and found it very pleasant.
The duo made an energetic performance of getting into their seats, where Genie could get a better look at them. She saw the faint impression of wings in the sunlight—ghostly and cherubic. Velvety brown animal ears that swiveled through a doctored baseball cap in a way that reminded her of a cereal box mascot. The swirling absence of legs or a stomach commanded her attention. It was a Raevan alright.
She looked at the woman next, squinting under the bill of her hat. Trying to recognize her from the back of her head. Maybe it was because she was made so totally the focus of their attention that the woman felt the need to turn around. Upon seeing her face, Genie jumped from yellow to orange, and then catapulted into the red. A graduated scale of realization.
The name escaped her, but the memory did not. She bought a cake from this woman. Cried in front of her. Heard she was waiting for a Raevan of her own—and there he was. A fulfilled wish. A vision in pink.
She smiled broadly, taking the hand Vivi offered and giving it two firm shakes. It felt soft and lotioned. "Haha, yeah! It's Genie. Hi. Vivi, right?"
She released the hand, her eyes flicking between the two. Genie almost forgot how glamorous this woman was; with her exotic accent and angel-winged Raevan and toned bare legs.
Basil had been a stony spectator, coolly observing them. To Vivi, he made a grim two-part gesture where one tightly pulls in their lips and nods their head in acknowledgement. It was like the sad, sympathetic expression of someone greeting you at a funeral, or some other occasion where a full-blown smile is inappropriate. It communicated a kind of restrained friendliness. He seemed absolutely exhausted.
"Hello again." He offered in Vivi's voice.
Genie chuckled low in her throat and patted his arm approvingly. Usually Basil didn't remember people so clearly. It had been ages since he saw Vivi last, and not under the best of circumstances. "Oh course you remember this guy."
Naturally that left one person without an introduction. She turned to the pink Raevan. Though at first Genie made the mistake of speaking about him rather than to him. It was rude, but not maliciously so.
"But I don't think we've had the pleasure. Would you look at this guy? Vivi, he's so...!" She couldn't finish, her smile deepening. "God, congratulations."
She leaned confidentially towards her, "I hope I'm not being rude to ask but... um... does he speak English?"
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Posted: Mon Jul 15, 2013 1:50 am
"Oh, yes, of course I remember Basil. Hello, Basil!" Vivi said, seeming quite pleased as Basil copied her voice in his salutation. She pressed her hands together in a little clap, her smile brightening with delight. Beside her, Cesc seemed positively puzzled for a moment, his eyebrows lifting and his eyes opening a little wider. What were the chances? Such a perfect reconstruction of ... oh. Then the solution -- must be his talent -- settled his expression once more.
He opened his mouth to say something, but his attention was taken by Genie. With a laugh, he extended a hand to her.
"Certainly I do," he said politely, the pronunciation of his words terribly foreign, and the lilt of his voice Spanish rather than French. He could not make the soft 'c' sound without adding a soft 'eh' beforehand, as though his mouth could not form a harsh hissing sound without tempering it. In the back of his head, Cesc thought it was somewhat amusing -- here he was, meeting a Raevan with a clever tongue for mimicking, apparently, and his own so lazy. "I am Rhedefre, but you may call me Cesc, if you like. It is a pleasure."
He shook Genie's hand and then held it out to Basil, eager to make the Raevan's acquaintance. That Basil was tired did not escape him, and Rhedefre put out tentative feelers for any signs of loss or pain.
All he got was a strange sensation of... interference, almost. Static. Like wires crossed. All he came up with was the fact that this Raevan, Basil, was rather hard to read.
"Yes, this is Cesc," said Vivi pleasantly, waving an airy hand at her companion. "Hello again, Basil, talented boy! What a happy surprise it is, that you both should be here! After such a long time! Are you fans of the baseball?"
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Dangerous Conversationalist
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Posted: Mon Jul 15, 2013 7:13 pm
Genie startled at the boy's affirmation, as though suddenly the couch in her living-room had spoken up. She took his hand with a mixture of amusement and embarrassment. Like Vivi's, his hand was soft and supple, but hardly feminine. She couldn't take her eyes off him—so bright, so pink!
"Oh! Well, Cesc it is then! Nice to finally meet you!"
Already she noticed a certain tone in her voice. Not quite fake, because her happiness was very genuine. More like... inflation. The tone you find in aunts you've never met before, but seem to have no trouble recognizing you. An oh-you-probably-don't-remember-me-but-look-how-big-you've-gotten kind of tone. She was still undecided on whether it was more uncomfortable to hear it or say it, or if it was even appropriate in this case.
Oh, I met your sort-of-mother-person a long time ago while you were off germinating in a tank somewhere! ...But look how big you've gotten!
When he offered his hand to Basil next, Genie's smile went tight. She watched the encounter silently, but with signs of squeamishness. Down below, there was the hollow, metallic crack of a bat, and then a ripple of voices through the stands.
At first, he gave the outstretched hand the slow, appraising blink of a tortoise. He stared at it for almost a full five seconds before he decided to take it. He reached with the bad hand, she noticed, trapping his pink scar between their palms. He shook it twice and with no commitment, which surprised Genie even more than his remembering Vivi. Basil's handshakes were legendarily brutal.
She visibly relaxed, but stared at him with a new kind of puzzlement. He didn't stare back. Instead he reached for the soda-cup, bringing the straw carefully to his mouth and drinking deeply. His eyes were fastened on Cesc's, but seemed to stare through him too. As though hypnotized or heavily medicated.
He languished at his beverage a few seconds before the liquid began sputtering through the straw. Slurping air. He blinked, wiggling the empty cup with perplexity before sitting it down gently next to Genie's hotdog.
Out of nowhere, a sweat-bee appeared. It crept over the top of his hood, its spiny legs plucking the fabric in halting steps. It paused periodically to brush its back legs together in a decidedly fiendish manner, burring softly. If Basil noticed it, he didn't acknowledge it. Instead he made a throat-clearing sound and the bee lifted in the air to make mischief for someone else. It didn't seem intentional on Basil's part, his hands folded on top of the pocket of his sweatshirt.
"Hello," He said hoarsely. Even after wetting his whistle, his natural voice sounded strained and dry, like he was recovering from a cold or a coughing fit.
He might have added more, except for being derailed by Vivi's enthusiasm. She called him talented, and her praise lit a fragile smile on his face. He settled in his seat with new contentment, and continued watching the game.
Genie made no effort to hide her relief. With one hand she touched his sleeve, adjusting her ball-cap with the other, "Fans? Ehhhhh, I wouldn't say so. Basil's never really taken an interest in sports."
She shrugged, "I used to play a little softball in college, but really we just happened to wander by. Nice day for a walk, you know?" There was a fade in her voice, as though there were obviously more to it, but she feinted on the side of small talk too quickly to linger on it.
"But what about you guys? I can see your glove, there." A nod to Cesc. "Maybe you can tell me who I'm supposed to be cheering for, huh?"
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Posted: Wed Aug 28, 2013 9:08 pm
It might have been odd for a passer-by to watch for a moment, the bright-eyed, pink-haired boy and the dark-eyed, dark-haired boy staring unreservedly at each other for far too long for the standards of politeness. That Basil was looking at him but not quite focusing on him was obvious to Cesc and granted him a series of free seconds to stare back. He had never gotten static from someone's aura. Either a person was lost or they were not; either they allowed the feeling to leave them or they did not. Muffled, crunchy sounds -- those were not normal. They were confused and impossible, like two people having a shouting argument underwater.
Normally, Cesc felt like his odd power was a liberty. Something he did not deserve, like he was allowed a peek at people's locked diaries -- and, an honest man, he did not relish having it.
But this, this situation was so odd that the stag could not help himself but to try to look. Cesc's eyes were almost alarmingly bright and just as unsettling by their earnestness as he looked at Basil. There was no guile or artifice in his gaze, just a pure curiousity. Basil was tired. He might have been ill. He knew suffering. That much was all his face gave him. His limp handshake had corroborated. But there was nothing else.
Nothing yet, at least.
Cesc blinked slowly. He tried to allow the static to become white noise, to fade into the background. It was none of his business, he told himself.
And then, just like that, Basil seemed to break out of the trance. He cleared his throat and spoke in a voice that sounded like a husk of a voice rather than a real one, and a pleasant smile returned to Cesc's face. It was as if the sound of the cobra's voice had lit some sort of cheer in him. Brought him joy.
"Hello," he said in return.
Vivi seemed not to know that things might be strange as the silence stretched, turning slightly to watch the game as nothing was said amongst her companions. She seemed relaxed in the space, unconcerned, as if commercials were playing during the game.
She turned back and smiled again as Genie spoke. "Oh, is is that we are in the same boat, somewhat! At least, we were walking with an aim to play before we heard there was a Little League game going on. Such a joy to watch the little ones, do you not think? They play with a funny sort of joy, and there are so many little moments of comedy."
Cesc lifted his beaten glove with an expression of good humor.
"I admit to being a fan," he said, clapping the glove like a puppet in his hand. "Although I cannot imagine catching too many foul balls today."
As he spoke, the slim batter struck out so hard he nearly twirled in place, the moment cartoonish. Cesc looked over his shoulder at the play and grinned.
"Ah... you must admire the enthusiasm!" said Vivi, clapping.
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Dangerous Conversationalist
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Posted: Sun Sep 15, 2013 11:14 pm
Genie followed Cesc's eyes to the batter's box, where she nearly missed seeing the boy spin out like a top. She laughed and clapped her hands, neither action having quite the same enthusiasm or effect as Vivi's.
"I love how kids are so free with their bodies like that," She commented, a little surprised to hear herself.
Working around children for so many years had definitely impacted Genie's attitude towards them, and not necessarily for the better. It didn't help that most women her age were already settled with two or three and it was all they ever talked about. Or at least it seemed that way...
Most of them down there, in the first three rows of bleachers, hooting and stomping their hearts out, while she sat up here. In the nosebleeds. In exile. A spectator to a world and a lifestyle she couldn't quite relate to.
There was Basil, of course. There would always be Basil. But he was neither a substitute, nor an accurate simulation of actual parenthood. He was more like a very high-maintenance companion. Somehow adult and pet and child all rolled up into one. Of course he was very dear to Genie, and very son-like, but the inhibition was always there. A block on Genie's part to think of him quite in those terms.
For her own convenience she'd long ago decided that Basil was his own category completely, and the parameters of their relationship—multi-faceted as it was—still left her all-too-aware that she was in a certain minority.
She felt as though she was forever deflecting questions from her family and friends. Sometimes total strangers. Questions she noticed bitterly, that her brothers never seemed to get. Questions about her health, her spending habits, and even her erotic inclinations. Questions that were hard not to take personally in a world that seemed obsessed with reproducing.
Before she knew it, her relationship to children had suddenly become very complicated. She didn't know for sure when she had actually become afraid to like them, or when it had begun affecting the words she used. Some of it may have been her job. But maybe it was because she was so often made to feel that at her age, not having children of her own made her somehow obligated to reject them. To make her snarky comments and snub her nose at them. Obviously that was why it never happened, right? If she just didn't like children, that would have been so much simpler...
But now, looking down at the baseball field and smiling at the players' antics, she realized that she actually felt pretty okay for once. That for the first time in a while, it felt nice to share her world with children. To see them. To notice them. To acknowledge them in a way that wasn't ironic or prevaricating. No insecurity. No maternal hangups or awkward judgments. Just a nice day to take in a game with people she considered friends, and the boy she loved more than anything in the world.
Without fully understanding why, she had begun staring at Cesc, his smiling profile as calm and reassured as she felt now. It was weird, but looking at him, she felt as though all the things she normally would have been worrying about by now were just... slipping through her fingers, like sand. She felt so clear-headed. She almost didn't know what to do with herself without something to agonize over. Some excuse to be on the defensive.
At this time, the batter braced himself for the third pitch. Bent at the knees, sticking out his tush, working his grip. Genie was inching to the edge of her seat. The pitcher lobbed a knuckleball at him. The boy reeled back and cracked it across the field, briefly stunned by his own power. He gaped a second, then took off like a jackrabbit—with some prompting from his coach and team-mates. Genie actually stood up and shouted, while on her right, Basil was as undemonstrative as ever. So much so, that there was a perceivable sense of distance from him, as though he wasn't sitting there at all, but somewhere orbiting Jupiter.
His body language and lack of focus had effectively walled him off from any attempt at being sociable. Like Genie, he was passively influenced by the deer's presence, but unlike Genie, had been pretty calm to begin with. If anything, it only made his silence seem almost meditative in nature.
Genie looked at him when she sat down again. God, if he were any calmer he'd be dead, she thought.
Maybe he'd been in the sun too long.
She touched his arm, "Hey."
No response.
She tried again, "Basil? Basil, you there?"
Basil opened his mouth and yawned in reply. It was like something out of a movie. Something in which some body-snatching alien has impersonated a human, and does something very in-human to out itself for what it is. At first it seemed to be a perfectly normal and innocent yawn. A little over-the-top maybe, but that was to be expected.
But just when his jaws seemed to have opened to their natural limit, they just kept going, until he bore more than a passing resemblance to the mask from Scream. They stretched, more and more, his head practically unhinging like Pac-Man. His tongue arched in a glistening red cave. Four of his teeth unfurled, soft and leathery like a bat-wing. Not enamel at all. They wiggled in their sheaths, looking like pink-white shark fins.
It was actually quite horrifying.
He made a sound that started low and deep in the back of his throat, quickly climbing octaves until it ended in a tiny squeak. There was a glimpse of something in the pit of his throat. The place that was darkest and reddest. Something that shone in the light with an eerie glow. Then, in a matter of seconds, his face folded in, like a magic trick, everything fitting where it was supposed to. Abra-kadabra, he looked like a person again. More or less.
It wasn't flawless. His lower jaw looked a little "off", slacking at an angle like some kind of palsy. It made a hollow crack as he snapped it into place with his fingers. Then, he smacked his lips and looked at Genie, who was noticeably leaning from him. She'd never say it out loud, but no matter how many times she saw it, it still kind of grossed her out.
She laughed for lack of a better response, "Heyyyy, buster. Where were you a minute ago?"
Basil shrugged.
"Well listen, if you're still feeling spacey after this next inning, we'll go down and see the ducks or something. I'll hit up the hotdog guy and see if he'll give us some day-old buns. How does that sound?"
Basil looked at his hands in considering silence, then nodded with a grunt. She smiled, "Perfect."
She turned to Vivi, "You guys can come too, if you want." She patted her bicep, "My arm's probably not what it used to be, but me and Cesc could toss the ball around. You know, make an afternoon of it.
She exchanged glances with Basil. "And hey, maybe later we can get this one to open up and do some celebrity voices—he does this whole Dr. Phil thing? I tell you, I've never laughed so hard."
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Posted: Fri Jan 03, 2014 5:55 pm
Vivi wasn't sure what made her turn her head -- maybe it was Genie's trying to get Basil's attention, or maybe it was the lull in the game -- but she looked behind her just as Basil began to yawn, and then she simply watched.
Maybe there was something wrong with her. Maybe it was years of being in the circus, with contortionists and aerialists and the like. But Basil's yawn was strange and familiar and wonderful to her, the sudden inhuman quality that he took on. It was a body's motions but more, and she felt a thrill at watching him that reminded her of what she felt when watching her fellow acrobats. It was not a talent. It was a thing his body simply did. But she loved it.
"Oooh..." she cooed, making the noise without realizing it, her eyes wide and sparkling. Her hands had gone together, palm against palm, her fingers folded. She seemed like a child who had just seen something wonderful, her face lit with interest and amazement.
Cesc turned at hearing her exclamation, but at that point there was nothing to see except a slight misalignment in Basil's jaw. He blinked, and smiled, and said nothing as Genie addressed her charge.
"We would love to come, of course!" Vivi piped up instantaneously, brightening further at the chance of spending more time with Basil. She nodded as well, just to make sure her point of view had come across, and "I have long been fascinated with his talent, you know, he has done my own voice so very well!"
Cesc couldn't help but let out a little laugh. They really had just arrived, but he agreed -- little league was less interesting than meeting new people.
"I would love to play some catch," he said, adding a nod of his own. He smiled over at Basil. "Do you play any?"
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