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 Posted: Sun Sep 14, 2014 4:56 pm
She stabs idly at the remains of her milkshake and it's obvious she's thinking about another. They're seated at the window, and the sunlight streams through, picking out the gold in her hair and proving her eyes undeniably green. Beyond the bright little island of their table, the diner is empty and dim, save for the jukebox playing nearby. "It's a shame about Jordan, but you guys tried and lasted awhile." Clarice offers William a crooked little smile. Understanding and warm, but nonetheless edged in cool pragmatism. "In the end, though, relationships are as much a balance sheet as everything else. Stay in the red too long and you go bankrupt.
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Posted: Sun Sep 14, 2014 6:17 pm
The hazy sunlight filtered through the windows, highlighting dust motes swirling in their usual haphazard way in the air and turning them into a constellation of motion. He’d heard on some show on time (probably watched in a stupor of either a hangover, drunkenness or depression) that in those very dust motes were the secrets of the universe, chaos theory in motion, performed in front of an eternally unappreciative audience. He was always ******** blighted with stupid facts like that, nonsensical absorbed snippets of trivia that showed up in the chaos of his brain and would not be dismissed. He never voiced them though, he’d learned to downplay everything that could change people’s perceptions of him as much as he possibly could. He needed to be the stupid thug, or simply the monster that they expected him to be, because then they'd never be disappointed. Clarice didn’t expect anything like that from him though, she’d treated him like a human at a point when no one else would have and shown a firm unwavering hand, gentle but not coddling. She’d said to him that she had been a monster too once. And of course, despite everything they’d made her one at the -
No.
The diner itself was nice, just the right kind of rustic, it left him at ease, eying the huntress with the kind of softness in his blue eyes reserved only for his nearest and dearest. There was no hint of the usual frazzled rage, roiling under the surface the way it normally did, underpinned only by the ripples of fear that could turn the surface anger into a maelstrom. Finally able to breathe, he realized he felt somehow older here and more tired than he had been in the past. After all, there weren’t many sanctuaries on the island, there was always that imminent and looming danger of physical harm. Even your own dorm room was a luxury, permitted only to exist as long as the administration let it. The music relaxed him even further, a lazy tune he didn’t recognize, but which slowly swirled about them, keeping awkward silence at bay and removing the worry someone, somewhere might be eavesdropping. The whole place seemed safe to him, a certain kind of rustic that encouraged conversation. It was different to the modern fast food places where you found yourself forced out hurriedly to make room for the next customer and even as you ate, were set on edge by the stabbing smell of bleach and cleaners. There was patience here and he lounged like a tiger, one hand on the table, the other holding the straw up to his lips as he cleared the last dregs from it. He found himself distracted from the dance of the motes (because he was nothing if not fickle) to watch a rivulet of cream run down the dewy glass, too deep in thought to catch it before it slid over the heel of the glass and out of sight.
He didn’t know why he was here, but it didn’t matter. He was good at ignoring the things that didn't matter. All that was important right now was that he was right. She’d come back, just like he said she would, like they all would. He had been right. The world was right. He smiled and it twisted the scars Jerry had given him - long since healed - into ragged patterns.
“No s**t I tried.” he said, waving an exasperated hand for emphasis. “No matter what I did, it always went wrong. It was like trying to talk another language between us. He left me, but I always knew he would. He was too good for me.” And part of him felt guilty saying it here, saying it to her, like he was running away from some darker truth and she would be able to see. It wasn't a lie. It wasn't a lie. He had tried. He had. He had tried. It hadn’t been his fault, it hadn’t been his fault that Jordan had left.
He frowned and looked down at the tabletop, using a napkin to wipe away a nothing smudge of chocolate sauce, it only made it worse.
“There was old s**t that came up, s**t I thought I was done with. Problems, misunderstandings, it is all just always ******** there under the surface waiting for me to ******** wreck on it if I’m not careful. And I couldn’t explain to him.” his expression turned pained and he trailed off. “I never was very good with money either, guess I should have seen it coming just from that. But I can’t let go of it, I cannae let go of him. You cannae jist declare bankruptcy on a person. I’m never beat till I’m beat.” But he felt like he was making excuses, avoiding the possibility she knew.
But her eyes were green, not yellow. Not yellow, and the wall wasn't right.
No.
"I'm a survivor." he said.
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Posted: Sun Sep 14, 2014 10:25 pm
"Trying isn't doing," Clarice poked the straw in his direction after sucking out the last few drops. "Results are what matter in the end, and if it's not the end, then you need to actually do something about it." She leaned forward, expression turning into a half smile, a shared secret, "You're better at doing when you're at that edge, and it's do or die. Anything less and you start wobble, guy. You start to second guess and work yourself up until you're running around to finding other ledges to jump off, because you can't see a future where you don't ******** it up." A huff of air sends up her bangs and sets the motes stirring restlessly, "You're always at either 1 or 11 and the inbetween just drives you crazy." The look she gave was fond but exasperated.
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Posted: Sun Sep 14, 2014 10:50 pm
"But what can you do in a situation like this?" he asked, but he knew before she even responded that she couldn't tell him the answer. "I cannae just kidnap him, tie him to a chair and not let him loose till he ******** co-operates." And in Rep's limited grasp of the world, that was all he could think of at this point to do. Jordan was out of his reach, if he came back - and he had to because the alternative wasn't acceptable - it would be on his own terms. All Rep could do in the meantime was keep other people away from him as best he could, cut him off, segregate him, make him lonely and bring him back. But if he did that, would the person who came back ever trust him again?
As the conversation focused more narrowly on him, his expression dropped just a little, into an imitation of the carefully blank mask of a child trying not to give away its misdemeanors to a questioning teacher. She was too close to the bone in her comments, too spot on in her estimation of him and it brought back that frantic desperate feeling he'd forgotten in the pleasant cosiness of this diner. The fact that she knew simply reminded him undeniably that his every waking moment was a nails on chalkboard grating need to be on the edge. Even the times with Harrison were simply respite, brief as it was, he wanted to bring Harrison with him to the dangerous places he sought, and maybe that was selfish - the other man liked safety in his life - but it was what Rep needed and he knew he'd understand.
Still, it was so on the nerve as to be almost dizzying, and for a moment he could see why H had tolerated Clarice, the man had displayed the same keen incisiveness when he had torn him down and laid him bare for attacking him as the blonde woman displayed now. "Maybe." he said, and in his language, that of pride and never admitting anyone was ever right, it meant she was.
"Maybe that's how I am. Maybe its what I crave, no having time to think or hesitate, just going from one choice to the next, never stopping, no time for breathing or failing or anything. Instinct, instinct and then death or victory. It's the best way to be. I can't do it otherwise, I can't hack it on the island. I got ******** recruited into this like - this army. And now I'm on vacation island. And its killing me more ******** surely than anything we fight. Maybe that was what made Jordan leave me, maybe he could ******** feel the crazy coming off me, maybe he was spooked by the ******** cabin fever that is making me insane." he pushed the empty glass away as if it had offended him.
"If I didn't have Ace I'd have killed someone. Maybe lots of someones. Maybe myself. Maybe I still want to. Maybe I think about it all the ******** time. I can't deal with being away from edges, cannae ******** handle it when I look all around me and there's nothing but flat land for ever and ever and ever." He sighed heavily. "Boredom just ******** leaves me with my own doubts and then I just ******** stop."
"I won't die an old man." he said. "I probably won't ******** die a human. They'll probably not give me a headstone either, when I go." And the subtle emphasis on either was so ambiguous, he could have meant it as in addition to or just like you.
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Posted: Sun Sep 14, 2014 11:11 pm
Resting her chin on her hands, Clarice listened to him, expression growing gentle. "You can show him, show everyone what you're capable of, for a start." Smiling wryly, the blonde added, "I just didn't want to lose anyone else, you understand, right?" She paused and watch him with a calm measuring look, and then, "You could make your own, you know."
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Posted: Sun Sep 14, 2014 11:21 pm
"That's what I want to do." he said, and the vision of destruction and domination in his head was the dream that kept him fighting. "I want to show them." And there was desperation and anger bound up in his tone. "But ******** people keep trapping me, clipping my wings, tangling me up in their ******** weapons."
"And I know." he said, his tone losing its prior ferocity, more gentle. "I understand why you did all of it man. I don't want to lose them either. I don't want to lose him. I kept him safe, I will keep him safe. And I would do anything too, I would do anything the way you did to do it. My only regret is that they stopped you from doing it." He clenched his hands, the pain of loss from even grazing the people who were gone, from thinking about her and her empty office like a heavy weight on his chest. "You should have succeeded, then I wouldn't have to wait so ******** long for everyone to come back to me. You've been gone too long."
He gave her a wild eyed look, somewhere between that tamped down rage and grief. "If I make my own headstone, it'll be out of the ******** bones of all the people who said I was a monster."
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Posted: Mon Sep 15, 2014 12:00 am
"It's hard to come back," she slumps suddenly, motes stirring wildly in the light. "I keep trying but," a smile, trying-hard smile, "trying isn't doing." She turns to look him directly in the eye, and for a moment her eyes take on the golden glow of the sunset. Her face turns hazy in those last moments of light, "I'm going to need help." And then she is also specks of light, hundred of little secrets the universe doe not dare to whisper for fear of what may come. The diner dims and grows cold, the only light coming from the jukebox, now caught on a record and skipping over the same note again and again.
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Posted: Mon Sep 15, 2014 6:54 am
Rep sat in the cold, faint light, looking at the place where Clarice had been and reshuffling his brain into an acceptable place - she wasn't gone, she would be back someday, someday soon.
"I'll help you." he said to no one.
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