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 Posted: Thu Aug 22, 2013 9:06 pm
After that exchange at the bookstore, Ruthie felt too nervous to pick up her phone, so she played Tetris late into the night. She crashed in her pink, fluffy bed, surrounded by vases of roses, and slept off her worries until the next morning, when she found her cellphone upon her night table ad remembered she never checked for the bookkeeper's message. She couldn't believe she had forgotten after fretting over it so much, and she unlocked the phone to find one text message waiting.
Whoa, really? She couldn't believe it. She pulled it off?
You left your change, it read. You should come pick it up sometime.
He could have kept it. He could have thrown away the receipt with the note she scribbled onto the back...
...Or this was him doing his duty, being a gentleman, blah blah blah...
But the flirtatious option seemed much more interesting. She stretched, taking in the sunlight shining through her window. She typed back: Well, good morning! Is this the delightful bookkeeper I met yesterday?
She pressed send.
Here we go...
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Posted: Fri Aug 23, 2013 3:45 pm
Alois laid against the black sheets, curled in swaths around his contorted body, pressing against the thin cloth of his pajamas like lovers long lost to each other's arms. He lounged languidly in a realm half-drowned in wakefulness, half-choked with the surreality of sleep - and there he remained, taking in the predictable machinations of morning. A distant cacophony of yard tools assailed his ears, and the bleaching sun filtered through his dark drapes to stain his eyelids with such abrasive light. Even as he shut his gaze to the world once more, neither realm would receive him - too tired for embarking on the day's duties, too awake to return to slumber.
Something vibrated against the metal lodged in his ear. It took a moment, but he sleepily discerned that his phone rattled against once of the gauged piercings. After a languid stretch, he hesitantly pried the phone from its bizarre location. Through his grogginess, he vaguely read the lines indicating he had a new text message. Who from? The number looked unfamiliar. WIth a couple clicks of the OK button, a rather animated message displayed across the dented and chipped screen.
It took a moment, but he vaguely remembered who messaged him in the early hours of the morning. Purple hair, unnaturally bright golden eyes... A certain effervescence to her, something very becoming of a girl who hadn't yet tasted the bitterness of the world.
Yes, she left him her number on the back of a receipt. A clandestine exchange, to be certain.
Maybe, he wrote. Alois paused, considering the ramifications of playing coy here. Finally he deleted the word and elected for a different approach, one that made clear his distaste for compliments while hopefully not dissuading her from replying. Why? Because this might go in a favorable direction for once. These were simple texts; they lacked a sort of commitment that an actual phone conversation demanded. Nothing stopped him from deleting the entirety of the matter and going about his life as if she never entered it. There was a certain comfort in such a realization. This is certainly a bookkeeper. Send.
After a moment, he began another message. What took you so long to respond? Send. Was she busy flirting with someone else? Or perhaps she had a boyfriend to meet up with after the fact? Humans engaged in strange, destructive activities; this wouldn't be the first time.
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Posted: Fri Aug 23, 2013 6:17 pm
Ruthie brought the blankets around her as she waited for his message. Her eyes slowly shut, and she fought, knowing if she gave in, at least half an hour would pass before she woke again. Darkness closed in and she struggled to leave her bed, but it felt warm like the sunshine like the bookstore...Her eyes shut. Noo, rage, rage against the dying of the lii--
Her phone buzzed.
But sleeeeep..
No. It wouldn't be right to keep someone waiting. She opened the newest message. Yes! The bookkeeper! Success!
Yay! I'm so sorry for missing your message. TBH I just checked my phone, she wrote She ignored exactly why. Maybe she would tell him later or he could infer. Maybe I could come by now?
Send.
Then, she sent: Also do you have a name? c;
She set the phone aside and collapsed on her pillows, pulling the blankets over her head.
Sleeeep.
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Posted: Sat Aug 24, 2013 9:40 pm
She certainly sounded chipper. Must be one of those morning people. Alois yawned heavily and rolled over in his bed, rolling his shoulders against the sheets to edge himself up more comfortably. Once he was satisfied that the bed offered ample support for his spine, he began the long (and sometimes arduous) process of replying to her text.
Did he really want her to drop by when he hadn't even a moment to get dressed? No - he doubted he'd even make it to the bookstore before she did, given his morning routine coupled with the length of time it took to walk there. Besides, the bookstore was a pretense more than anything; they could meet wherever they chose, anywhere more comfortable than a place of business... Unless she wanted to regulate his behaviors in the context of a workplace? She must not trust him entirely.
Understandable.
Not now, he wrote, thumbs clicking intently against the keys. but we can meet somewhere else if you like. What might he gain from this, if anything? She bore no indication of involvement with the senshi, or the Negaverse. He had no reason to interact with her at all, unless she really wanted to fulfill his baser desires. And maybe that's where he hoped all this might lead him - how simple, how trite. Has he always been this way?
Of course. And I might have a name. Who's asking? Sent. The ball's in her court now.
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Posted: Sun Aug 25, 2013 10:49 pm
Ooh. Did she like giving her name first? She left it on the receipt, but maybe he didn't remember? She wanted him to remember, but what would it take? Would she have to become a punk like him? Lodge metal into her cartilage? She touched the tips of her ears and shuddered. No. She would be her lobe-pierced, sparkly-eyed, cardigan-wearing self, and he would fall for her lavender and pale pink skirts and sweaters and ribbons and modest footwear. Yes, these ordinary or otherwise quirky details would endear her to him, she felt almost sure. Maybe she would wink or bat her eyes and graze his elbow. Then he would know his oncoming fall.
She felt all-powerful. Men would bend to her will.
Then, she remembered his drowsy eyes, and how she laughed and smiled and touched his hand, and he mocked her tone and pulled away. Groaning, she threw herself back against her pillows and stared at the ceiling. Not even the obscene amounts of roses around her bed could cheer her up from the crippling ache of rejection.
Still, she had to try.
This is Ruthie, silly! Now tell me your name as promised! Where did you have in mind, my bookkeeper?
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Posted: Tue Aug 27, 2013 2:27 am
Oh, right. Ruthie. Didn't she write that somewhere? He couldn't remember; human interaction dwindled to the sidelines in his roiling thoughts most of the time; often he wondered if he really existed in reality, or some facsimile of a real world within his ever-churning mind.
That called into question whether or not he was in a coma, just some warm body hooked up to a machine while creating its own meandering fantasies... Given the advent of knights and senshi and Negaverse agents, that bizarre consideration seemed far closer to the truth than anything else. Wouldn't that be a surprise? After climbing the ranks and coming to terms with this strange new fate, he finally wakes up one morning, completely mute and unable to even function properly, let alone walk due to the length of time spent in that coma, and all that he came to know and love meant nothing more than a passing dream?
He laughed sardonically; it failed to even echo off his barren walls.
Obviously he needed to resign himself to the fate of a youma if he was considering such stupidly abstract notions. A coma? Really? Did he have nothing better to think about than imagining he wove such strange stories in a coma?
Of course he did. A sudden chime indicated that Ruthie probably returned his text. A glance to the nearly-busted screen confirmed it.
Alois. He refrained from giving his last name; that felt like far too information for her. And why would she even need it? To fantasize about herself sporting his last name? Just the thought of it caused him to grind his teeth. There's an old power plant. It's a little far, but if you can make the distance, it's worth the visit. Sent.
One of the walls collapsed in the upper floors. You can still see the rebar they used for its concrete structure. What remains is twisted and still charred from the explosion. Sent.
We can eat lunch up there. If you sit toward the left side, you have a view down the street. You can see all the old buildings from there, and the sounds of the city won't even reach us. Sent.
Not everyone shared his sentiments about hollowed husks and forsaken construction. but.. if she truly wanted to flirt with him, even if only for sport, then he had to establish himself in some way. She needed to know the difference between him and the next man on the street. If anything, his penchant for abstract thinking would stand out. This felt like some last stand, some final bastion before youmahood, where he gives humanity one last legitimate attempt. So, if she rejected him, he could simply march straight down to the Rift and solicit the officers there to complete the final act.
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Posted: Tue Aug 27, 2013 6:32 pm
Did Alois have a death wish? How did anyone choose old power plants for their dates? Unless he thought her extremely brave or stupid? Did he plan to murder and leave her like the electricians left the wires and cords and metal beams? Roses could face the sun, but Ruthie wondered if she could face the black-haired, golden-eyed bookkeeper German boy, for he seemed so distant, and reaching to him made her feel painfully, achingly shy.
It wasn't like this with James.
Saying no could have been so easy. 1, 2, NO. No to the power plant. No to the bookkeeper. No to evolution. She could curl into the cocoon of blankets and shut the curtains. No sunlight to awaken the mind. She could sink into the cushioning--never see his face again. "Alois." Never speak his name again. She could close her eyes and dream about unrealized potential.
No wings for the butterfly.
No smiles. No sparks. No rays of light.
She sighed.
Hopefully a phone and pepper spray would be enough.
Alright, she wrote. I trust you. Where should I meet you?
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Posted: Tue Aug 27, 2013 7:58 pm
Alois could've laughed. Trust him? As if it weren't obvious enough that they remained strangers to one another... Anyone unfortunate enough to entangle themselves with Alois' life knew exactly how duplicitous the misanthrope was. However, he was content to entertain her little fantasies about honesty and care and other superfluous nonsense that elevates minds skyward.
If she wanted to trust him, who was he to violate that decision? Who was he to warn her against his inevitable treachery?
Meet me on the corner of Allen Avenue and Stark Street. There's an old bowling alley painted bright purple with a chipped old marquee. You can't miss it. Sent.
He remembered it well - countless times he stood on that corner, with the looming sky choked with hazy clouds and threatened drizzles of rain. And he would smoke, the thin curls wafting around him and constricting him, while he watched the cars shift by in speeds unnatural to him. If he stood perfectly still, just adjacent to the light, then he remained just outside the grasp of reality. He stood behind the window, peeking out through painted panes at a world oblivious to his existence. And when he turned, the overcooked smell of burgers coupled with cheap cigarettes and hollow dreams crept into his precarious little window. It reeled him toward reality, where passersby assailed him for cigarettes, for directions, for a little fun.
But he would shirk that place, and all its gutter trash painting the old, used parking lot. They would meet at such a dismal location, but they aimed for darker destinations. And bereft of those vapid reminders, they might find their own little brand of solace in their stolid tower of Babel, still quiet dismantled in its own broken charm.
But would she see it the same way? Unlikely.
I'll wait for you by the traffic light. Even if he was stood up, or she found the bizarre venue much too uncomfortable for her taste, he still found some measure of solace there.
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Posted: Tue Aug 27, 2013 8:54 pm
Okay I'll let you know when I'm there! Ruthie locked her phone and snuggled under the blankets. They felt so warm, but the sun felt warm too, and maybe Alois' eyes could turn warm? He seemed so cold before...The thought made her smile. They would be like sunshine like a warm honey glow---like--like--tangerines! Yes! They would be sweet and soft! She slid out of bed.
Now.
What to wear?
Dresses? No. Too easily tangled in equipment.
Shorts? Jean shorts could work. Wouldn't catch. Showed off legs.
Blouses? Ehhhhh. Too fussy for power plant exploration.
Tank tops? Yep. In deep ruby. Yes. Psychologically most attractive color. This was good. Yes.
She tied her hair with her favorite ribbon, grabbed her bag and waved to herself in the mirror.
"Bye lady!"
x o x
At least they would meet in daytime. She avoided these streets at night. They frightened her more than horror movies with no survivors because they were the horror stories of real life. Approaching the traffic light, she sighed and gripped the front of her bag, which held the pepper spray as she texted with her spare hand:
hey im here where are you?
Where was Alois? Laughing about this? Strolling by? What did he fear and did he watch her as she wrote? So many people could have watched and laughed at the one out of place.
Shy and wandering as she wrote on her phone.
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Posted: Tue Aug 27, 2013 9:25 pm
A few key details changed between his last visit and his fresh arrival, mostly intrinsic changes that altered himself rather than the world around him. No longer a smoker, he saw no reason to loiter by the stoplight. He could not conjure the smoke to blur its bright lights, to obscure it slightly and taint the world in a green haze turned red. No longer did he witness delinquent teenagers fraternizing with one another over the hood of a rusted-out Chevy Malibu, painted red and chipped with spraypaint symbols across the windows. Has it really been that long? In three short months, did the city swallow these passing fancies of innocence so easily?
Now uprooted from the constant chaos that once pervaded this place, Alois leaned against the purple building, just beneath a tattered old awning. Idly he looked upward, wondering just how much rain and misery poured through the smattering of holes on a wet day. And how many people huddled beneath this very stretch of dry ground, cigarettes pressed to parched lips and fingers fiddling for matches gone astray?
The wind teased the thoughts from his mind, scattering them into gutters as trash straying across tired old lines. He followed their incorporeal trail to a pair of impeccable sneakers shouting red across the sidewalk. Up the smooth, exposed legs revealed jean shorts crowned by an equally loud red tank top, unadorned with logos or extraneous fringe. And lastly, the purple hair spilling out across her back confirmed this girl as the one he met in the bookstore once before.
And his phone's sudden vibration only confirmed it. He scanned her message before pocketing the phone.
Alois approached the girl from behind, maintaining an even silence. When he stopped, a meager foot away from her, he finally spoke. "Where indeed?" He replied, his accent tainting the consonants with a harshness absent from typical english speech. "Are you ready to see somesing interesting, or would you prefer to stumble around wis' your phone in front of your face like zat?" He smirked.
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Posted: Tue Aug 27, 2013 9:47 pm
"Whoaheythere!" Ruthie spun around. Was this the end? Would she wind up in a dumpster, rotting like the fresh loaves of bread no one bought from independent bakeries or the skeletons of goldfish that didn't make it to the sewers? Luckily her amazing-astounding-recognition speed spared Alois from pepper-spray in the face. Identifying his edgy black hair and piercings and brilliant eyes, she laughed and set her phone inside her bag--right next to the aluminium can. Hopefully she sealed the cap tight enough so it wouldn't leak onto the screen and later burn her, but she could worry about that upon her return home. She smiled. "Sorry about that. I was surprised! It's a pleasure to see you!"
Feeling safer with a guide, she stepped to his right. Based on appearances, would she have ever spoken to him in high school? Look his way? Probably. Secretly. Her friends wouldn't know. Her parents certainly wouldn't know. They would have to sneak off to hidden places like the power plant or he would be banned from the house and she would be forbidden to see him.
Couldn't risk their daughter's reputation, after all.
Yet, this was not the time to fantasize. Alois required her attention. Here. Now. She could daydream later.
"So where to? Interesting places are awesome places!"
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Posted: Tue Aug 27, 2013 10:07 pm
Alois folded his arms behind his back and peered down at her. So short, so petite, so effervescent. She wore emotion like she wore color - full-bodied and without restraint. Would she prove a perfect foil, then? To compliment her outfit, her skin-revealing wardrobe, he stood adjacent to her in the exact opposite wear. All black, head to toe, with a jacket upon a tee shirt along with pants and boots - the absolute worst combination for the dwindling recesses of summer, but the ultimate protection for strange explorations. Especially in the confines of an abandoned power plant.
He wondered how many scars Ruthie would earn that day, and whether she'd wear them with pride or hide in disdain.
But he had little time to consider such minute affairs - with the smell of crisp pollution lingering in the air and a cacophonous gaggle of teenagers slowly encroaching on their territory, Alois loathed to loiter any longer. "Follow me, I'll show you ze way." Without waiting for her compliance, he turned toward the bowling alley and erred toward the dank alley flanking it.
And as he approached, he realized that the alley never saw any sun. No matter the angle, no matter the time of day, this alley never knew the touch of sunlight or airy day. Perhaps this was where the shadows hid during light's passing dominance. Funny how he should find himself here, though he threatened to trawl brilliance through the heart of the alley. Surely Ruthie wouldn't mind - for as far as the eye could see, the alley remained bereft of other unsavory individuals. For now she walked beside the sole conniving being in the stretch of sixty feet.
"You haf' to be careful srough here, but it's ze middle of ze day, so I don't sink anyone will jump us." Visibility didn't guarantee safety, though; he almost knifed someone around high noon before, and he was certain he wasn't the only one. "See zat fence up zere? It's chain link, but someone cut ze corner out. You can't see it since it's hidden by zat rotten board, but srough zere is where I suspect a lot of drug deals go down."
It was easy to tell. A shattered crack pipe coupled with a plethora of foil scraps confirmed it. Either they dealt or they smoked, and both were every bit as dangerous as the other.
"We'll be heading past zis back lot, down anozzer alley. Zere's not much activity past zat. Ze power plant isn't too far- maybe a mile." Alois drew to a stop next to the rotted-out slab of plywood leaned against the fence. With a solid push, the board clattered to the ground and revealed a sizeable opening to the other side of the alley. Rather than offering the more chivalrous 'ladies first' approach, Alois ducked inside without incident and emerged opposite her. "Come on," he encouraged as he hooked a link beneath his fingernails and plucked it like a violin string.
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Posted: Tue Aug 27, 2013 10:38 pm
When they entered the alley, Ruthie shuddered. She rubbed her shoulders. It felt so cold. As Alois spoke her brow furrowed with worry as she laughed. "Alois, you jest!" Her voice dropped as she added: "But you'll protect me, right?" She didn't want to die. Could she rely on him? She wrote that she trusted him earlier. She decided to live up to it--at least for a little while. He didn't kill her yet or convince her to take drugs or break the law, so perhaps this could still turn out well?
Ruthie, she thought as she very, very, carefully, sloooowly ducked under the fence. Ruthie, your peers would not approve...
She joined Alois on the other side. This date wore on her confidence. Maybe James misspoke when he recommended she put herself out there. Maybe he meant sometimes or with people she knew for more than a few days, but she couldn't turn away. She didn't want to explore this area by herself, and Alois at least seemed somewhat interested in guiding her?
She smiled a weary, tired, confused smile, and hoped it was enough to lift her spirits, if not encourage him to continue toward the plant. The sooner they reached it, the sooner they escaped the shadowy way.
"Carry on!"
The things she did for romance.
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Posted: Tue Aug 27, 2013 10:59 pm
"Right." As soon as she emerged from the fence, he about faced and continued toward the end of the alley. It wouldn't take long for the cool shadows to give way to the sun's vicious bleaching of the earth. Everything felt too bright these days.
Once they crossed the threshold into the light, Alois peered toward the vacant back lot. Surely enough, no one lingered in its vast expanse. The same busted pipe he saw months ago still skittered across the paved surface, dancing around a storm drain somewhere near the center of the industrial prairie. No one hid behind masks of hate and resentment to ambush them for meager pocket change, and no one sprawled across ashen dumpster lids, sporting needles like new girlfriends.
He considered it good fortune - Ruthie belonged in a universe outside such gritty, morbid affairs. She couldn't stray into his reality for long.
The remainder of the walk consisted of a straight gravel road, well-traveled by great semis bearing all manner of supplies and materials. On their right side stood another chain-link fence, stretching far into the distance, and adjacent to that were various buildings, each every bit as vacant as the last. Yes, by now they reached the condemned districts of Destiny City, the ones labeled tainted and forgotten, awaiting an unscheduled demise due to budget constraints and disinterest.
Yes, he felt most at home here.
"I'm surprised you agreed to zis. Most people I know would'f turned me down wis'out a second sought. Who comes out zis far, anyway? No one, really." As if it weren't evident enough with the marked lack of life. "But sometimes it's ze unusual places, ze ones still unfettered by zose prior connotations, zat mean ze most to us. It's..." He trailed off, the s trickling off his tongue like unmitigated water. "A more tangible form of symbolism." Surely she thought he was speaking nonsense, but did it really matter now?
Finally Alois drew to a stop in front of a heavily padlocked pair of iron doors, crowned with barbed wire and flaunting a rusted orange sign. It displayed crude figures, those regulated by the government, and threatened empty fates against those who considered breeching its confines. Alois paid it little heed - with a single finger held up to Ruthie, as if to ask her to wait, he scaled the fence with practiced ease. After finding familiar footholds and procuring a thick rag to cripple the barbed wire, he made it over the wall of twisted metal with little difficulty.
Afterward, a little tinkering with a well-hidden tool loosened the bolt on the opposite side. As he learned from a great many visits to this location, if he stood on the bottom hinge connected to a thick pole, the added pressure disrupted the door just enough to pop the catch in the center, and the door swung open with its tired old groan.
Alois, now standing atop the hinge and leaning outward from the pole, swung backward from his precarious balancing act and hopped off the hinge. He offered his companion a smug smirk over his shoulder before he beckoned for her to follow. "You coming?"
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Posted: Tue Aug 27, 2013 11:20 pm
Alois seemed kind of scary. Not scary in the way that first dates seemed scary, but scary in the way that she would stand on the edge of a cliff or stand in a valley during a lightning storm. Unless she wanted to take her chances on her own in this ruined, dangerous sect of town, which she felt certain would destroy her kindness or patience or mental stability in some form, she would stick by his side. In another place, a cafe or arboretum, perhaps, she would have gladly received his speech about the area and symbolism, but here, she felt exposed, vulnerable, weak.
"I guess I trust you a lot," she murmured.
The smile faded and she focused on his hair as she followed. That way, the grime and wire almost seemed to disappear and she could retreat to her dreamy haze.
At least the sun was pretty.
When he opened the door, she slowly nodded and grabbed his hand. She moved right behind him. Would he pull away this time?
"I'm nervous," she whispered.
Did she ruin everything? Would he abandon her? Her pounded so strongly, she wondered if he could hear.
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