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 Posted: Sat Mar 28, 2015 10:01 pm
Each window showcased brilliant colors and shapes arranged in aesthetic patterns, views of the milling customers within, or delectable treats displayed on pedestals for public perusal. The myriad shops lining the streets of Destiny City hosted many hiring signs, some specifying the positions while others opted for a more reserved approach, and each time he ventured into a store that might find use of his eccentric skill set, he met the same frustrating response - too many tattoos to qualify for hiring. Others explained that tattoo placement ultimately disqualified him from being considered, while those tolerant of such deviations from cultural norm turned him down due to too little experience in the specialized field. Shale left each shop with a slowly building sense of frustration until he determined the need to forego the venture for another day.
Nearing noon, Shale abandoned his search and relegated the remainder of his efforts toward searching the occasional telephone pole littered with notices. Mostly he found lost pet posters, lost people, numbers for babysitters and dog walkers, and a few advertisements for seedier businesses like mystics and palm readers. On one of the weather-stricken poles was a tattered blue flyer advertising desperate searches for models at the university. Only a few numbers remained on the sheet, so he tore one from the edge to slip into his pocket for later use. Afterward he resumed his slow trek through the throngs of customers and patrons while he searched for the end of the commercial district.
With the turning light allowing pedestrians to cross the intersection, Shale essentially shuffled through the particularly thick crowd. He attempted to break away at a quick clip prematurely, resulting in shoulder checking a young man with black hair tipped red and streaked white in a profusion of pattern.
"Sorry," he muttered as he drew to a halt. A quick glance confirmed no preexisting injury that he might've aggravated with the accidental assault. "My mistake."
Now comes the question of how I proceed. What does this culture dictate? Brush it off and move on? Am I to accompany him somewhere, or offer something to compensate for the sudden disturbance? I've no mind for considering all of the convoluted customs surrounding dealing with strangers. Marinus acted stiff when I tried to help him - I suspect that's not the right response either. Staring at him and expecting an answer isn't going to work. This would be so much easier if I were home.Frayedflower hope this is ok! if not i can change the things
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Posted: Tue Apr 14, 2015 9:13 pm
To be fair, Hitch hadn't been paying a whole lot of attention either. He was sort of pissed. It was a slow day at the morning job, and so since he was still the 'new' guy (technically), they'd gone ahead and sent him home early to spare the company's overstuffed pockets a few damned dollars. The problem was, those dollars were basically the padding between the safe and danger zones of his finances, and he kind of needed them more desperately than the company ever would. Not like he could argue it. There'd been no room for argument, no matter how badly he'd wanted to. His face still felt flushed from the rage he was trying to smoke out, two and a half cigarettes later as he aimlessly wandered the town he barely knew.
He'd been glaring down at the ground when it happened, so it really shouldn't have been such a surprise when he ran into someone. But it was. Hitch stumbled off to the side a little, but the real killer was, he dropped his half-smoked cigarette to the ground where it landed tip-fist with a small splash of embers. It was busy enough here that before he ever even had the chance to pick it up, someone had snuffed it out and ruined it with a thoughtless step in a too-expensive ********>, " and he wasn't yelling or moaning, but a strange conglomeration of both sounds in one as he extended a helpless hand downward in the general direction it had fallen in.
When he turned to Shale, his eyes were flashing dangerously, his hands curled into loose fists as he snapped, "Sorry my a**! How about you look where the ******** you're going you ******** idiot?!" He whirled on his heel and was about ready to stomp off into the big faceless mass of the crowd.
About two steps later, in about two seconds, he abruptly turned back around, shoving his hands deep into his pockets as he grimaced. "Dude, sorry, sorry, that was ********, I - ******** I'm sorry. I don't know why I even said that, it's totally cool, really." Jesus ******** christ, look at who was being the real a** here. He had half a mind to say he'd just been having a shitty-a** day, but that was just an excuse, and definitely not a sob story a stranger needed to hear. "I should've been paying attention."
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Posted: Thu Apr 23, 2015 4:31 am
Shale paused, attention fully on the other man while he engaged in a unique outburst. His brow quirked, he settled on a more inquisitive stance. Interestingly, his latest acquaintance now ran the gamut of emotions before finally settling on apologetically self-deprecating. He found it an interesting assortment inside of an outburst, but avoided commentary of it in case the man had more to say on that topic.
The stranger hadn't yet proven himself rational.
He obviously knows the outburst wasn't socially acceptable. So what comes from my end? Saying 'it's fine' and moving on? Seems most likely. He must be caught up in something to cause him to react so aversely. No need to turn this into a conversation, then.
"It's not a problem," he offered at last, fingers brushing against the wind in dismissal. "You sound like you might have other things on your mind. There's no need to apologize to me for it." And after deciding that his piece was enough, Shale carefully maneuvered against the telephone pole nearby so he could loiter without causing further incident. Allowing the crowd to die down seemed a better option, as one of the demonstrations inside a floral shop finally dismissed those in attendance, which added to the convoluted flow of the street. Besides, most of them carried arranged bouquets that begged a measure of care from the strangers around them. He wanted no part of further antagonizing the public.
"But," he added to the conversation with the blonde, "you might want to step aside before you start apologizing to more than just me." He gestured to the new crowd dispersing amongst the current throng.
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Posted: Sat Jun 06, 2015 5:51 pm
No, no. This guy didn't know the half of it. It wasn't his fault things had gone to hell all of a sudden, and now that he'd done someone wrong, Hitch couldn't just let it go so easily. He opened his mouth to protest gently, but lo and behold, the stranger proved himself to be a lot more perceptive than Hitch was - and it killed him a little, because he tried so hard to be aware of the world around him. His cheeks flushed in that familiar, aggravating way, and as he side-stepped a few bouquet bombs before finally settling safely out of their way, he seriously considered slipping in amongst them and making a quick getaway before he embarassed himself any more than he already had.
But Hitch knew that even if that was the easier thing to do, it didn't really make it the right thing to do. "No, there is, I mean - that was totally uncalled for and - please, let me make it up to you, " and the pit of his stomach dropped before he could even finish because he knew he'd regret it later when he took a look at his bank account. But his resolve was already set, and his pride wouldn't let it falter now. "Have you had lunch yet? - I don't know what you like, but I'll buy."
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Posted: Tue Jun 09, 2015 9:56 pm
Lunch? Shale blinked. He hadn't realized that encountering a stranger during a bout of misfortune turned out so favorably. Was this common? Perhaps Porsha would have an answer to that.
Shale framed himself against another telephone pole to bypass passersby while he spoke. "I haven't eaten, no." The man looked flustered with the way his cheeks reddened; it was a similar flush to what he witnessed in aggravation or embarrassment. So which was he? A mix certainly wasn't out of the question, nor were alternative explanations - too much capsaicin, rage response, increased bloodflow from running... But circumstances suggested frustration quite clearly.
Was he supposed to decline? That seemed a relatively common and almost relied-upon answer in certain instances. Or would doing so offend? The culture here demanded so many nuances that he often wondered if he could ever come close to fitting in. "I have food at home, but if you insist, there's a cafe out a couple blocks from here." It seemed a viable alternative - a pastry from their menus wouldn't spoil his appetite, and this particular Paris-themed cafe sported delectable crepes. Luckily, the fruit-based kind sported a cheaper menu price.
"If you're going to buy me anything, I'd like to know who to thank."frayedflower sorry if this sucks my brain is melting out of my ears
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Posted: Thu Jun 11, 2015 7:27 pm
Hitch hadn't been sure whether or not this guy would take him up on it. It was probably too little too late - or it came off as weird. 'Hey, I blew up at you, have some food.' But it was sort of the best option that he had to offer, and he had to at least try - he hoped it was enough.
When the other guy went along with it, a sigh escaped Hitch's lips, mostly out of relief. Maybe a little bit because he'd been in the hole already and this wasn't helping, but he told himself he'd be fine. There had to be some other way to work things out. There was a chance they'd let him hang around later if it was busy, or patch in part of someone's else shift. Yeah, he could definitely figure it out. Just focus on this.
"I do insist, and that's great, " and he flashed a cautious smile as his palm tapped an idle beat on his denim clad thigh. As for who - "You can just call me Hitch, and you don't need to thank me - it's literally the least I can do after that, " he said, then thought to offer a hand to shake. Manners and all. "And you are?"
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Posted: Sat Jun 13, 2015 10:11 am
Hitch. And what is your story, Hitch? What has you losing your temper at strangers and then scrambling to make it up to them? That sounds like stress to me. Shale kept opinions to himself and only nodded toward the man with speckled hair.
"Shale Blackwell," he offered in response. A glance was spared toward the hand and he stared at it for some time before rusty recollections of handshakes came to light. The hand was then accepted, shaken firmly, and released. It felt entirely awkward and he found the tradition confusing at best. "That sounds like an odd and expensive tradition to get into. Do you buy a lot of lunches around here, or have you become particularly adept at avoiding people?" I should expect it's neither, and this is a one-off affair. That's an unsustainable 'business' practice. However, people around here don't always operate with logic in mind.
And who am I to say that there's little payout in this. I don't have his experiences to judge with.
"Do you play an instrument?" The question came with a quick point to the palm on Hitch's thigh. "My brother did something similar. He played violin, and often used his palms as practice fingerboards."
Shale started in direction of the cafe, though his mind did not. Its worn-down sign loomed over the sidewalk and swayed slightly in the breeze - it looked fashioned of wrought iron, but closer inspection would reveal that it's a hodgepodge assembly of different scrap metal pieces salvaged from junkyards. The owner was an eclectic man, who tried to blend the Parisian flair with more local history.
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Posted: Wed Jun 17, 2015 12:11 pm
Shale Blackwell - an interesting, unique name. That would make it easier to recall later. He said the name again several more times in his head, like an echo, committing it to memory. The guy had a firm handshake, something he'd always known as a good indication of character. 'Never trust a man with floppy hand; just imagine what else he'll flop on, ' his mother used to tell him until he cringed and groaned. It wasn't catchy or cute or original. - he'd still kill to hear her say it now.
"Oh... " Hitch didn't exactly blush or anything like that, but he looked more than a little embarassed, even if he laughed it off real fast. "Well, I don't really make a habit out of harassing people on the street, I mean usually anyway." Like a stupid ******** idiot. He was only lucky Shale didn't haul off and punch him for it. He would've deserved it. "But hey, I mean, I'm a little new to town, so only time will tell, right?"
When it came to the whole instrument thing, though, that earned a sheepish smile, his palm pressed flush against his leg to try and cut it out. "Oh... yeah, I do. Sorry 'bout that. - I drum, so I kinda... I mean I'm not really good or anything, but I still like it."
That sounded so lame. Quick, go back to the brother thing. "So your brother does violin though, huh? That's really cool; classy instrument, " he remarked as he followed Shale to the cafe. "Are you into music at all?"
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Posted: Sat Jun 20, 2015 7:16 pm
New to town. I suppose we have that much in common. The man seemed to flush easily, which he found curious. There was want to watch him instead of where he was going, but Shale recognized that he may just start a chain of people bumping into one another that way.
Also interesting that he's already downplaying his skills without an ask about it. It seems to be a cultural expectation of others. Modesty? It sounds more like self-deprecation to me. And I am supposed to flatter back, I expect. What a precarious game. "It's not a bother," he offered in compromise. "It's just a detail." Was he expected to share the origins of that trait? He wasn't certain; Shale hadn't spent much time in Destiny City just yet, and could not determine the proper response either way. Instead he erred on the side of caution in keeping silent of it, and if Hitch intended to press for answers, then Shale found no reason to deny him that.
The hunter ducked into the cafe, which was blessedly quiet. Given the time of day, they struck a lull with their repeat clientele. "He likes to play in the city. Calls it 'busking'. I liked it better when he would play back at home, but he prefers covering popular music now." It felt a waste, but Shale mentioned nothing of it.
He descended two steps on the industrial green carpeting, and rounded some tables to approach the short line. Carefully placed tables loaded down with snacks and cakes caught the eye during the wait times, and the whole of the place smelled of fresh coffee intermingled with sweets. For a moment, Shale was struck by a keen feeling that he was out of place. He closed his eyes a moment before he replied - the hope was that such an action might dissipate the feeling, but little relief came of it. "My brother used to say that we both have bows in common, but my focus was archery rather than string instruments. Music has always been an appreciation, but not a talent." And archery, too, wasn't a talent. I wonder if I have any.
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Posted: Sat Jul 11, 2015 8:26 pm
Just a detail - Hitch half-smiled when Shale said it. "I see. But, y'know. The devil's in the detail, right?" he echoed back the old saying, recalling the way his mother used to click her tongue as she said it. He wondered if Shale's family was like that, too, or if he was just observant by nature. Either way.
In his own way, Hitch was relieved it was quiet inside. Concerts were one thing, but eating out with someone? - yeah, it was basically impossible to follow a conversation that way. Then he'd miss words and have to keep asking people to repeat themselves and all this added aggravation for an experience he had to pay for. No thanks.
"Busking, " he repeated - something of a habit when he came across something new. "I've never heard that one before. - you miss his music at home?" He couldn't really say anything about covering popular songs; without time to practice, a band to play with, or a single creative bone in his body, covers were about all he was good for.
Hitch noticed the way Shale closed his eyes, but didn't know what to make of it yet. There were plenty of reasons people might do that. Could be tired. Could he exasperated. Could be a lot of things, though Hitch's mind tended to favor the bad options over the good.
"Archery?" His brows raised, surprised, an enthused smile spreading over his face. "Well, s**t, you don't hear that one every day. Talk about a badass hobby. - when did you start that up?" He'd let him get whatever he wanted; Hitch himself was going to settle for a small coffee, black, with sugar. Didn't usually go for much, and he could use the caffeine.
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Posted: Tue Jul 14, 2015 9:58 am
Shale paused, furrowed brow, and considered the figure of speech temporarily. The devil's in the detail? What is that supposed to mean? Is perceptiveness discouraged here? Or is that supposed to be a reference to warding based on observation? I'm confused.
He dismissed the comment altogether for more familiar topics - ones he could offer an opinion on more assuredly. "You've seen people play instruments on the street, right? That's busking. They play, and strangers tip them. My brother used to do it often." The topic still smarted, resulting in a dull pang when he chose to concentrate on old memories. It felt all too easy to simply push them aside and focus on more inane tasks. When had he become so cold? "His music is missed, as is he."
The line diminished to the point where Shale was the next customer, and he stepped to the counter to address the busy cashier. Confections weren't what he was used to - he hadn't a particular fondness for sweets - but the treat was on Hitch, so he chose something less sweet while relatively inexpensive. "I'll have a blueberry scone." The girl wasted no time in fetching one of the treats, wrapping it in confectionary tissue paper, and sliding it into a folded bag. The whole transaction took thirty seconds at most, during which Shale took the opportunity to respond to Hitch's later question.
His fingertips settled at rest on the countertop while he spoke, and his thumbs slowly swept across the surface as if to survey its tactile sensation. "I've... Never heard of it described as 'badass'. I started when I was twelve. It was a necessity - learning to hunt. I've done it since." And it's never been much of a hobby. 'Profession' is closer to the truth. "Do you have any hobbies besides drums?"
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Posted: Tue Jul 14, 2015 2:39 pm
Hitch noticed the look on his face and turned slightly pink again, chuckling. "Ah, sorry - I forget, that's kinda an old school thing - " He didn't know yet that Shale was a special situation, but it wouldn't be the first time he spat out some outdated thing and got a few weird looks. "Details are key, basically, yeah? That's what I mean." Probably could've just gone ahead and said that in the first place.
"Huh." He tilted his head to a side and laughed lightly again, tap tap tapping on his leg. "I have, I just - I never thought there was a word for it. I'm glad you told me, " and he thought the word back to himself, busking. "Never know when that might be useful, y'know?"
Hitch's gaze softened into a look that was as concerned as sympathetic. "Oh, I'm sorry... " Was his brother gone all together? It didn't seem like he was gone gone since Shale still talked about him in the present, but... was being left behind much better? "Do you call him much? - wait, you don't have to answer that, s**t, sorry, " personal boundaries and all. He had to watch himself.
Blueberry scone? - that was it? Oh, somewhere his wallet breathed a sigh of relief. He laughed out loud, reaching for his debit card. "First time for everything, right? Sorry to get crude or whatever, " funny how he apologized for crude when he talked the way he did, but he tried to be polite, he really did. "Seriously though, somethin' like that, like... especially with hunting, damn. That takes skill." Something Hitch was eternally lacking in. "In high school they had a club for it, an' I gave it a shot once - " Before everything had gone to hell. "s**t, man, I couldn't even pull the damn string back."
Any other hobbies? Hah... "I mean, not really, " he shrugged his shoulders as he claimed his card and his drink. "I like cookin' I guess, but... I'm not really good at it. I just like doin' it, and I haven't really been doin' it much lately. Only so many hours in a day, y'know?"
Again, time for a reversal. "How 'bout you? What else you into?"
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Posted: Fri Jul 17, 2015 11:39 am
Shale was quickly coming to the realization that this man was all nerves - borderline neurotic. Between the small visual cues and the excessive amount of filler words used in his sentences, Shale wagered that Hitch fostered some serious anxiety problems. Backing away immediately from a question asked notified him that Hitch wasn't taking the time to think through his statements - that he proceeded on autopilot through the conversation, or felt too averse to pauses in conversation or lengths of silence.
It softened him somewhat in response, lending to a quieter, less commanding cadence. His body language took a more lackadaisical approach in hopes of rubbing off on the man. His choice diction, however, never lengthened or eased up.
"I don't have a way to contact him. Sending a letter seems trite." Even if he possessed a cell phone, Shale had no way of knowing if his brother still lived. He wasn't certain he remembered their old phone number, as he never called it. And what would come of it if he did? Most there didn't know that he himself was alive, let alone the status on Slate. What good was there in trying? Why do so, when he could pursue his own means in finding out? "But there are better discussions we could have."
Shale took his purchase to one of the nearby bistro tables and picked the one sitting atop a raised step. Outfitted with a distressed iron surface, it blended well with the rustic decor and theme to the shop. The chairs themselves looked riveted and pieced together from junkyard scraps, as if aimed toward a more chic audience. Shale spared no second thoughts to it; as someone unused to the comfort of cushioned chairs, these metal ones felt far more cozy than the open booths further down in the lounge area.
"I imagine drumming takes skill, too." The hunter broke off a piece of one end and popped it into his mouth for a few quick chews. It tasted too sweet for his liking, but the flavor held well. "I failed at archery to start. I wasn't able to hunt until I was fourteen - and that took dedicated practice. As for your club, it sounds like they had the draw weight set too high for beginner use." Idly Shale wondered if it was a common problem. He noticed a certain trend toward overbowing in the target shooting world, and even with hunting. Hunters often used too high a draw weight for the game they hunted.
Does one have to be good at something to call it a hobby? The question took pause for an answer to Hitch, to which he raised forearms above the table slightly. "I tan leather and make my own bracelets. Not much beyond that."
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Posted: Fri Jul 17, 2015 8:27 pm
Shale was right - there were plenty of better conversations to have, and Hitch wasn't about pushing something so personal that seemed so - was raw a good word? Maybe not, but it clearly still bothered him. Comfortable. Always try and make other people comfortable. (Especially when the reason they were here was because Hitch wigged out on him in the first place.)
Hitch went along with the metal chairs and the whole bit; not to try and pun it up or anything, but c'mon, it was sorta metal, the awesome kind. "This place is really cool, " he mused out loud, partly to keep the conversation going. Shale wasn't so wrong about him after all. His mother had always insisted on the importance of small talk.
He didn't know if he'd say he had skill, but, "It comes pretty easy, " even if Hitch knew he was mediocre at best. "I mean, I don't know - some people get sick of playin' instruments real fast, but I - heh, even when I couldn't keep a beat at all, it was a lot of fun. It never felt like a chore or anythin', " and he missed it badly. If only there were more hours in a - no, it wasn't even about time. It wasn't like he'd gotten sick of drumming, more like he'd gotten sick of everything. He didn't have a whole lot of motivation to do anything anymore.
"It's cool that you can figure that out just from what I said, " Hitch mused out loud, taking a long sip of the tiny coffee. "Just... damn, that's dedication." He wished he'd had something like that. Drumming he loved, yeah, but if he'd been at it since he was a kid, imagine it. "If you don't mind me askin', how'd that first hunt go?"
His jaw practically dropped when he saw those bracelets. "Holy - ******** those are - you made those?" Hitch laughed, not to poke fun at Shale or anything, but more like he was tickled by the revelation. "That's ********' awesome! How long does one of those take?"
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Posted: Sun Jul 19, 2015 5:29 am
Shale blinked, then furrowed his brow at Hitch's comment. It's clever to figure out that any hobby takes a certain amount of skill? I can't imagine someone being dense enough to say that anyone could drum without practice and education. Violin demanded years of careful study for Slate. It's not a leap to conclude that. Luckily his confusion passed in moments when Hitch inquired about the beginnings of his career in archery, and it allowed Shale to reflect on the subsequent disasters. Recollection formed a mental portfolio for his progress over the years, which boosted confidence when compared to present skill levels. He still had much to learn, but far less now than before.
"My first hunt was a disaster," he stated calmly. "Growing up, I enjoyed animals. Learning to kill something you admired is difficult." Fingers laced together into a shared fist and rested on the counter next to his lightly assaulted scone. "I was raised on archery in a way that walks you up to your first hunt. After target practice, we used to use the archers in training to execute the livestock. To prevent cruelty, we were only allowed one shot - and the animal was killed immediately afterward if the arrow did not suffice. I cried the first time I shot a chicken." He remembered the feathered creature convulsing against the ground with one wing pinned to its side. It struggled feverishly before one of the archery assistance snapped its neck. The thought of it provoked little reaction in him now, but he remembered keenly the number of years that the memory ached.
"The first actual hunt was fairly unimpressive. I found a deer, and I missed it. I remember going home feeling mostly relieved that I didn't kill anything; at the time, I used to think deer were somehow separate from livestock." And that humans were somehow above animals.
"As for these..." Shale started on loosening the bracelets by pulling the metal backing holding the ties together. A few merely needed to be untied, which concluded with a quick tug. One bracelet featured a woven leather extending outward from a leather backing, which had a rodent skull in the center. Another looked like strung-together handmade metal coins. Two more displayed tooled leather designs, and the last featured three teeth across its leather backing with a pair of porcupine quills hanging from the ties. "It depends on how good I want it to look. Any basic bracelet takes about thirty minutes with ready leather. This one," he pointed to the bracelet with teeth, "took six hours because I didn't know what I was doing." The bracelets were left for Hitch to examine. "Mostly they're tests of patience."
"You're not very interested in talking about yourself, are you?" He asked honestly, and he hoped without any implication of judgment.
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