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 Posted: Sun Aug 18, 2013 11:51 pm
It felt strange to be working here again.
It's been so long since he lived with his family, and shortly afterward, his wound prevented him from working. That wasn't entirely true - he would've subjected himself to the task, but his family vehemently insisted that he refrain from working and concentrate on recovery. And that's how it remained for quite some time, with him lounging aimlessly, counting the days toward physical therapy, while his bank account and patience withered to dust.
Now he resumed his job as if nothing transpired - his sister greeted him warmly as always, though he suspected that practiced welcome was a hoax. His mother slid seamlessly into his father's role, directing the pair toward separate tasks without a hitch. Was this denial, or was it truly not worth acknowledging all he went through? Not that he had time to think about it - new shipments of books had been sitting in the back for quite some time, and his mother pressed for those precious novels to hit the shelves, and soon.
Initially he thought that having the two of them work on the same shift was superfluous, like his mother didn't trust he would accomplish much despite his injury healing up. However, the absolute nightmare of uncatalogued books in the back proved otherwise.
---
Katarin breathed a long sigh. Though she was happy to finally see the light of day and greet customers at the front of the shop, she wasn't terribly enthused to see her brother working again. He behaved as if nothing happened, but she clearly remembered the frantic call of her mother that her brother was hospitalized. This wasn't unlike him, though; many times before, he'd gotten in trouble or suffered an injury and shrugged it off as nothing. Idly she supposed that wouldn't change.
While Alois worked on cataloguing, Katarin inspected the sales floor. She already gave it a once-over with the vacuum, so the floor remained relatively dust-free, and the shelves received some long-awaited attention once Alois took over her previous duties. She could finally reorganize the shelves so they appeared more categorized, but that sounded like an intense undertaking for a Friday afternoon. Instead, she propped the front door open to let in the light breeze and returned to her seat behind the counter. After all, they recently received a shipment of foreign magazines and she was desperate to read up on the current fashion trends.
Just as she sat down to engross herself in the season's choice purses, the sound of footsteps signaled the arrival of a customer. With a surprised huff, she combed a hand through her red, sweeping coils of hair and straightened her clothes from their relaxed position. Now that she was certain her appearance looked professional, she rose from her seat to greet the new addition to the bookstore.
And the customer almost looked like a terribly disheveled version of herself. The girl's hair was more of a natural color than a dye, but rather than sporting long and large curls, she was plagued by tightly-wound springs of red that looked uncannily akin to an afro. She possessed the same golden eyes too, though hers looked slightly more yellow in appearance, and certainly more vibrant and neurotic. Yes, this must be one of those rabid book-lovers that raided the place for some obscure novel and demanded an atrociously low price for an underrated tome.
So much for this day being easy.
"Good morning," she greeted cheerily, "is there anything I can help you find today?" Maybe a hairbrush?
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Posted: Fri Aug 23, 2013 2:06 pm
Micah didn’t really know where she was walking. Her legs demanded that she move, and so she did. She turn turns as she wished and some she didn’t. She wasn’t even really sure how many times she’d wandered in various circles. She just sort of meandered because it seemed like the thing to do on a day like today. It was just so sunny and nice, being inside seemed like a crime. And it was too nice also to run. Why rush through any of this wonderful day? So she just meandered, eye upturned and head high.
It was on equal whim that she entered the bookstore, having never seen its front before. Walking in, she was assailed by the smell of old paper and binding glue. It made Micah smile. It smelled like weekends spent in the library with her mother or her father’s study. It smelled like the perfume her brother bought her for her return home. It smelled like all of her grandparents’ house because they both devoured books like nourishment. Micah moved amongst the smell, trying to infuse it into her skin because it was such a good smell. Her fingers grazed the spines emblazoned with titles she could read. And some she could not. She recognized some languages; French, Spanish, German. All the easily identified ones. But she couldn’t distinguish Russian from Ukrainian from Estonian.
The woman’s voice behind her made Micah jump, containing a small squeak. She turned, eyes perhaps a little too wild. Oh god. Maybe she shouldn’t have been touching anything. Maybe she should have knocked. Were they open? Had she disturbed someone? Micah’s hands wrung at her chest as she searched for words with her mouth open. Finally she looked up and ceased her searching. Well. That was odd. She did look very familiar. It took her a good long moment to find her voice again.
“Oh, er. No, I just found the store and wandered in.” She shrugged, pushing her hair behind her ear, only to have it flop back in her face. “I like… books. So I sort of walked in when I found a store about them. You know?”
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Posted: Fri Aug 23, 2013 3:02 pm
Katarin stared at the girl for a moment. Did she really just say that? Were she not in the customer service role right now, she would've palmed her face with a sigh of exasperation. Was this kid trying to be facetious? As if Katarin didn't have a host of other duties to attend to, including ensuring that her brother isn't slacking off in the back room, or doing something equally destructive with his time spent unsupervised.
And then she realized it - the squeak, the feverish gaze, the nervous flitting. The girl was on the cusp of a coronary, and all Katarin mentioned was good morning. She smiled; how cute. This sheepish little thing was so out of her element that she practically shattered beneath the redhead's gaze. It was hard to believe someone as skittish as her managed to leave the house at all, let alone venture into a completely new environment. Katarin might as well make this a positive experience, to the best of her ability anyway. With these types, no one knew what set them off - she could just as easily send the girl scurrying.
She regarded the new arrival gently and crossed her arms beneath her bust. "You wandered into the right place, then. Is there a particular novel I can help you find, my dear? We have plenty to choose from, as you can see." Katarin gestured toward the heart of the store, where several displays honored some of the bestselling books featured in the shop. "Or if you like, you can feel free to browse around and find what tickles your fancy. If you need any help, I'll usually be right overrrr..." She elongated the consonant, and half-turned toward the back of the store. With the grace of a practiced pianist, she pointed toward the nearly-buried desk against the wall. "There."
Katarin considered lagging behind and chatting with the girl, but she seemed far too frazzled and overstimulated to warrant such conversation. It may be too much too soon for her. Instead, Katarin began the winding trek back to the desk with a simple, courteous nod. "Oh, and most of our textbooks are twenty-five percent off for back-to-school purposes." She skirted one of the display tables as she spoke.
However, the sound of a toppling pile of books froze her in her journey. She stopped to listen, and surely enough, a moment later came a frustrated groan. "Need some help back there?" She called, unable to hide her mirth from her voice.
Oh, it was grand working with her brother again - something always went wrong for the poor boy.
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Posted: Fri Aug 23, 2013 3:45 pm
And then the strangely familiar woman wasn’t angry with Micah. Which threw Micah for another loop. For a moment she stood, lips half open as she tried to focus her energy on something. Anything. Like finding out exactly why this woman looked so familiar to Micah. Something about the shape of her nose, the way her lips formed words. Maybe it was the ovals of her eyes or the angle of her face. Micah tilted her head just a little, live-wire nerves settling back into her skin as she was able to focus all of the nervous energy into one thing. Who are you?
Micah followed the line of the woman’s arm with her eyes, nodding her understanding. The question hung heavy over her, what books were you looking for? Micah almost never went into a store with a predetermined idea. Or if she did it was young adult or trashy romance. But somehow Micah figured that if she asked for something like that, she would be looked down on. She spun in place for just a moment, trying to find herself in the endless pages around her. What did she want to read? All of it. That was the answer.
“Um…” she pulled at her lower lip head spinning but nerves still comfortable against her skin. “I don’t really know. I don’t read really… quality reading interests. But I keep meaning to get into something – ” The crash cut Micah off, making her jump and kick starting her nerves again. She rose to her tiptoes, bouncing on the balls of her feet and fidgeting.
“Um, do they need help? I can help. I’m okay helping. Do they need help? I can help.”
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Posted: Fri Aug 23, 2013 4:02 pm
Katarin only giggled in response. "You don't have to worry about it. Things just happen sometimes, okay? Feel free to browse?" Once she dismissed the matter, she turned her attention to the back room. "Schatzieeeee..." She called in a singsong voice, her accent easily apparent. "Brauchst du mein' Hilfe*?" Even her inflection curled upwards as a hint toward her good mood.
And why shouldn't she feel good? She discovered a customer with her own unique brand of charm, and her brother finally rejoined the family affair. Things were practically back to normal, despite the passing of their adored father. The memory of him still impacted her chest in a sharpened blow, but it was bearable now. She could weather it, with the help of positive minutia.
That amusing, curly hair.
The flitting movements of a fresh foal, still finding her footing by manipulating her awkward body.
Sometimes moments like these quelled the misery, just for a little while. But a little while was all she needed.
Soon, her brother emerged from the back room, looking as though nothing was amiss. "Was passiert**?" She asked him. Her eyes lit with the possibility of accidental tragedy. Maybe he elbowed a precariously packed stack, or he tripped over the strange piles he amassed when sorting for inventory. She always recognized he had an unorthodox way of handling matters, mirrored by his equally unusual method of thinking. "You didn't spill any coffee on our books again, did you?" She teased lightheartedly.
Alois, however, wasn't amused.
It had little to do with the catastrophe in the back room - what fell could always be rebuilt, and any torn pages received tape as a quick fix. However, the same could not be said of social matters - what he faced now was an unprecedented hitch in his carefully-laid plans. He plotted this matter precariously, and now the very girl he guided so manipulatively stood in the goddamned center of his workplace. This wasn't supposed to happen - how did she find the place? When did she blunder through the doors in her typical graceless fashion? How could he have overlooked this earlier?
And most importantly, how might he salvage this situation?
"Schon gut***," he replied to his sister in a dismissive tone. Instead, his attention shifted to the shop's newest arrival - the erratic redhead searching the place with reckless abandon, as if to find herself within its shelves. "Micah - I am surprised to see you here. I didn't know you read much." He maintained a neutral tone, hoping his gaze didn't belie his shock and fettered irritation.*Do you need my help?
**What happened?
***It's nothing.
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Posted: Tue Aug 27, 2013 8:35 pm
That was the third time in the last ten or so minutes that Micah had jumped nearly out of her skin. She had previously been inspecting a rather darkly bound book, tracing the lines of the title with her finger. She didn’t recognize the language, but it didn’t stop her form leafing through the page. She should learn French. The thought had crossed Micah’s mind more than once. Or maybe Gaelic. That would make her mother happy. She spoke the language fluently. Micah absently began to hum something her mother sung to her in that language. And then Alois came out of absolutely nowhere. He spoke to her. Roused her from her musings. Entered her life once more. It took a hand over her mouth to silence and yelp. However, that also meant that she did end up dropping the book in her hands.
“Oh god. Oh my. Oh dear. Ohgodohgodohgod!”
Micah stooped to retrieve the book, vision swimming violently in the process. So much so that she lurched forward, her head connecting with… something.
Oh god. Please don’t let it be so.
Micah lifted her gaze, almost against her own will, to lock her gaze onto a dark fly. Another yelp and Micah flung herself upright, book clutched to her chest, vision swimming still. Her mouth opened and closed, voice lost, probably for good, mind blank. She gaped like a fish, mouth opening and closing as she searched again, for the millionth time that day alone, for words that would not come. Finally she just closed her mouth and stared, wide eyed and afraid for whatever comeuppance she had coming full force at her. As if their first date wasn't painful enough, she had to go and be even worse and stumble into his work place and headbutt his crotch. Bravo Micah Elizabeth. A+.
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Posted: Wed Aug 28, 2013 8:02 am
As Alois paused, hand pressed to the bookshelf for support, he watched Micah fumble for some more fluid method of existing in this world. The girl was all fray and crackle, all break and jumble. In her moments of gathering herself, the book slipped from her hands and hit the floor for maybe the seventeenth time. That particular one he remembered finding shrink wrapped, and he couldn't figure out why. Who would shrink wrap a book? Why would it matter? Were the pages about to fly away at a moment's notice?
So he kicked the damned thing around for a while. Nothing came of it - no pages spilled across the floor, no spines broke beneath the weight of his boot.
Not that anyone else knew about his bout of fun.
And he watched her lean over to retrieve the book, to treat it like the treasure it never was. He recognized the cover, as he possessed a working knowledge of the French language - he knew enough to function decently in Alsace, so a book cover proved little challenge. Idly he wondered if she recognized it. Did she know what folly she committed, to drop the New Testament at her feet?
But as she quickly lost her footing, his brow furrowed. He had little time to react, though during that span Bischofite would've circumvented the action altogether. But Alois stood in that place, that fateful location between bookshelves, and moments later, suffered an agonizing pain that Bischofite never had the pleasure of experiencing.
Alois winced, breath hissing through clenched teeth as he recoiled from her reeling misstep. He curled his fingers into the wooden bookshelf, leaving a trawling trail in their wake, and he elected to bite his tongue to avoid expressing the full extent of his pain.
Goddammit Micah, you make this so difficult.
When his breath absorbed the taint of pain, he finally let it out. With it came the sharp edge of agony, and now he stood breathless with a dull ache down south. At least the pain wouldn't climb to his stomach region. Once he was certain he could speak without breaking his voice, Alois drummed his fingers across the bookshelf and responded. "For ******** sake, you could'f just said you didn't like me." She probably wouldn't see it as a joke, not with his pained expression.
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Posted: Wed Aug 28, 2013 11:48 pm
Again she pressed her hand to her lips, shutting her eyes as though to show out her own embarrassment. Or hold something else in. Her breathing came in quick, panicked gasps through her nose, trying not to hear his pained groans from her mistake as though closing her eyes would block out sound as well. As Alois gathered himself from her accidental attack, Micah set to work punishing herself behind her eyes. He was probably angry with her. She didn’t need to see his face to anticipate his expression if that was the case. Alois had shapr features. Devastating features. Features that pinched and coiled and were created to best exhibit the more negative spectrum of emotions. Right down to his thin and sharply cornered lips and razor-blade nose. Everything was tailor made to express rage and deliver exact pain.
As Alois gathered himself, so did Micah, opening one eye and then the other as though to make sure she was not in immediate danger of being killed. Only once she was certain that the worst of things had passed did she lower her hands. He still looked as though he was in a great deal of pain, and Misha had once described something like that to her as “a fate worse than death.” And that was when a girl back home had wanted to do serious damage to her brother’s nethers. Certainly, it was a solid impact her head made, but it wasn’t an attack. Maybe now would be a good time to leave, yeah? Just run away. That was the only answer. Run home and never come back out, because Alois was going to be there again knowing her luck. He’d been in the aprk, he’d been here, he’d probably be –
“No!” The response exited Micah’s lips with more force than she had anticipated. It echoed in her ears painfully, her voice having cracked stupidly on the middle of it. She snapped her mouth shut, sucking her lips in like she might also retract the exclamation with them.
“I mean,” she began, hand flitting about her chest as she gesticulated her point.
“I do like you. I mean, as much as you can someone you’ve only just met, right?” She giggled nervously, trying to restore some sense of ease with such desperation that her voice climbed in pitch with each word. She cleared her throat to return it to its normal pitch before she continued. “Believe it or not, I was going to text you eventually,” she lied poorly. She really had no intention of texting Alois, or even forcing herself back on him.
“you mentioned an… overpass… when we last talked? It sounds interesting. I’d like to visit with you, if you’d let me.”
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Posted: Sat Aug 31, 2013 5:02 pm
Alois only groaned in his acknowledgement of the budding travesty before him. She backpedaled over herself and writhed about in some sorry attempt to salvage their contact. And in her desperate throes, she tried to call his attention to a suggestion he made long before they met on a bizarre and messy date.
Spare me, he thought bitterly.
"Did I? I don't recall," he replied with enough malice to demoralize her from questioning it further. Didn't she recognize she blew that chance when she shot it down the first time, or did Alois truly need to spell it out for her in all the vitriol and scathing hate he could possibly manage? It seemed nothing less got through to her; perhaps all that hair formed her sole protective barrier.
Alois steadied himself against the bookshelf and began a very stiff walk away from the scene. He much preferred to retreat to the confines of the back room and continue his menial tasks without interruption - as he stressed time and again, he required absolute silence to finish logging as precisely and meticulously as he did. It didn't matter what tasks he turned to or where he went, as long as he distanced himself from this quickly fizzling scheme gone south. She lied, failed to compose herself properly, and nearly ******** castrated him with her head. If there was ever a sign that he should abandon ship, it was now.
And so he did, by signaling to Katarin to take over while he retreated to the cool confines of their backstock.
"Don't lie to me," he started in a surprisingly conversational tone. "If you intended to text me, you would haf' by now. And given how you reacted so... violently I suspect you're hiding somesing from me. I don't haf' time for secrets, Micah - eizer drop ze act and tell me what's going on wis' you or walk out zat door and stop pretending like you're going to continue wis' your little charades." Though firm in his convictions, he kept his tone to a quiet volume so Katarin wouldn't catch wind of his machinations. She knew him well - likely she may blow the lid off such a scheme.
Though his sister knew nothing of the Destiny City terrorists, of either side really, she knew a petty little antic like this when she so much as smelled it. Only Katarin was adept enough to catch his every scheme.
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Posted: Sat Aug 31, 2013 11:53 pm
Micah recoiled from Alois’ visceral reaction to her suggestion. It was an off handed phrase, and maybe she was just imagining it but… it was hard to convince herself of that with the very features that Micah was wondering over became sudden, terrifying reality. Yes. She had been, very unfortunately, correct. Alois’ attention snapped towards her like a predator catching wind of blood. Her veins froze as did she, eyes wild with animalistic fear and the ever present need to flee. Wickedly curled lips sneered at her as he spoke, words like shards of glass which chipped at her face, only intensifying the thick scent of blood in the air.
The fact that his back eventually turned from her did not stop the barrage of shards against her tender cheeks.
He was walking away. (With no small measure of difficulty. Had Micah really hurt him so badly? Was that why he was so angry?) Oh. No. No it wasn’t why Alois was so angry. So he’d caught her lie, not a particularly herculean task, but now he was leaving her to bleed out on the floor of his family’s bookstore until someone took pity and carried her out. Was now an okay time to cry? Like, could Micah finally let at least one or two hot little tears escape her eyes now, of all times? She’d been caught in a lie, one that she thought was perfectly innocent, torn down for so much as suggesting a second date – oh god, she really should have known better. If ever there was a time to cry, was now it? She knew it wasn’t, but it didn’t really stop her from breathing a little too heavily and her face from growing a little too hot. Run. When he gets to the back, just run and never look back.
But she couldn't. Some stupid, stubborn, hopelessly Scottish part of Micah kept her rooted in place. Kept her cheeks dry. Something inside of her, in what would be her most desperate hour of need that day, came to it. It didn't stop her from panicking, but it cleared her mind just enough to breathe evenly and dry her already brimming eyes. It forced the color from her cheek and eased her twitching just enough to look less like the hot mess she was dissolving into. It didn't raise her eyes from the floor, it didn't slow her heart, and it didn't turn up the volume of her voice, however. Those were left to personal strength which never seemed to come to her.
"Its not an act," she squeaked, hiding in her shoulders and twisting her fingers. "I like you, Alois. I'm just... embarrassed about the way our first date went." She shrugged and dropped her hands. "I couldn't get things right, so I didn't bother trying to force myself back on you. But I do want to go on a second date with you." She ducked further into herself as she added, "if you let me."
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Posted: Mon Sep 02, 2013 1:24 pm
Katarin's attention snapped toward the two as soon as she heard the word 'date'. What was her brother getting himself into now? More accurately, who was he sucking into his dark schemes? That poor girl, the one with the unruly hair and scattered disposition? But she wouldn't know how to handle him, or any of his terrible plots against the ones he dated. Katarin remembered them well - she also remembered what ended his previous relationship. History would repeat itself in this girl, and she would be the worse for wear.
So perhaps she could stop it from happening once more.
"Aloooois," she addressed in her singsong voice, strutting over to her younger brother. "What're you getting yourself into now? I'm pretty sure I heard the words 'second date' here, want to tell me about it?" Though she asked, he knew the consequences of if he denied her. It wouldn't take long for the remainder of their family to know, and Alois was loathe to divulge his machinations. A private person, he had always been that way. And she would seek to ruin it all if it meant abstaining from another disaster.
She remembered the prior occurrence far too well. Buried in the annals of Germany, they were, in Bexbach of Saarland, surrounded by endless forest. Framed by Lorraine. And in that city half-drowned with trees, Alois sought another girl by the name of Francesca, a woman who newly lingered in the guttural graces of Germany. They danced in a highly choreographed, highly contrived, highly guided fashion. He knew what he was doing. But... she didn't - she thought him honest and bright and kind, and such false promises spelled disaster for the girl.
And if Katarin hadn't caught his machinations and brought them to light, she doubted if Francesca would be anywhere but buried in the midst of an urn. The girl didn't stand a chance, but Katarin still relished her company under the pseudonym of Felix. Strange how best friends backstab when they sense wrongdoing. Katarin didn't mind it - by wearing his name, she maintained her own schemes, though she never took to the darker undertones.
But Alois wasn't keen on his sister's perception. He openly scoffed at her approach, and reprimanded her for seeking some halt to this strange lead. "Don't you haf' a store to watch? Or do you prefer to tease me, and embarrass her in ze process?" Katarin still had a heart, and he sought to remind her of such in every move she made to stop him.
And she drew back in kind. "I'm sorry," she uttered toward the redheaded spark lingering behind him. "I was just trying to see what's going on with my little brother in the dating world. It must be hard not to get lost in there." She smirked toward him. She wouldn't stay her curiosity forever.
"Zere's nossing going on wis' me in ze dating world, Katarin. I barely know her. Why in ze hell would I want to date her?" Alois watched her expression relentlessly, while bearing none of his own. "You don't haf' to pry and ******** around and insinuate zis s**t wis' everyone who walks into ze shop. She's just some scatterbrained little girl who I met once before. Not my fault if she sinks I'm wors' pestering for weeks to come." With his final judgment taking air, he left for the darkness lingering in the back room.
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