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 Posted: Tue Nov 03, 2015 11:34 pm
Regan didn't usually wear make up. It was heavy, and felt fake. She preferred a bare face. It didn't run, or smudge or need a constant touch up in the bathroom stalls. It made her work in the mechanic shop a lot easier, too. She didn't draw attention to herself.
She wasn't a pretty girl trying to act tough in the shop. No matter how her uncle proved over that he didn't think that, it was his workers that did.
So she didn't wear make up often, and if she did, it was for one reason, and usually that reason only she did. The bright purple bruise on her cheek was dimmed by a thick layer of pale make up, making it seem like the wound was healing when it was far worse underneath.
It was her reward, she supposed, for telling her father to leave when he came to squeeze her for money. He had gotten what he wanted in the end, and she would wear the shame of being weak on her face for a while to come.
She had ditched school to come to the park nearest to her home and watch ducks swim across the pond. Ducks, she though, were pretty cute. It was too bad she didn't have nuts or seeds for them.
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Posted: Wed Nov 04, 2015 6:35 am
The park was one of Fritz's favorite spots to go, not just as himself, but also as Celsus. His patrols always tended to wind up there as well, passing through the trees and the shadows with a certain fondness and affection for the way it made him feel, lost among the grass and the branches.
Now, however, he was simply Fritz St. James, and he was not on patrol, nor was it nighttime. It was a clear, brisk autumn day, most of the leaves on the trees several varying shades of reds, oranges, and golds, and there was a crisp breeze rifling through the air that made everything smell like fall and coolness.
It was also Fritz's favorite time of the year, and at present he was strolling through the park with his hands tucked into the pockets of his coat, a scarf wrapped twice around his neck and dangling down his front. He passed by a few young couples, smiled absently at the elderly folk feeding the ducks, nodded to a young girl on a bench at the pond -
- then backtracked, slowly, because he recognized that head of hair, Fritz coming to a stop in front of her.
"Hey," he said lightly, eyebrows raised, his breath visible in the chill air. "Bookstore girl. What are you doing out here?"
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Posted: Wed Nov 04, 2015 11:02 am
She could probably run to the mini store or something. It wasn't like it was far. If she really wanted to spend what little she had now on ducks. It'd've been worth it though. It was her money. It was her life.
She didn't even notice Fritz nod at her, and didn't respond until he came back, blocking her view from the pond.
"Excuse me." She rose a brow as she recognized him, "Oh, it's you. Lover Boy." She leaned back and scowled a little. "I'm sorry, is there a problem with me being in a park on a nice day?" She started to back into herself again.
She was always a problem, wasn't she? She adjusted her scarf and buried her face into it grumpily. Luckily, it would also hide the bruise. The last thing she wanted was his questions about that too!
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Posted: Wed Nov 04, 2015 4:21 pm
He grinned, in spite of her less-than-enthusiastic recognition.
"That's me," said Fritz, and although he took notice of her scowl, it, as usual, didn't seem to perturb him or even dissuade him from speaking to her. He tilted his head to the side, red hair cascading down over his shoulders as he fiddled with his own scarf again.
"There's no problem," he said mildly, with a trace of amusement in his voice. "I was just wondering - aren't you still school age? Is today a day off?"
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Posted: Thu Nov 05, 2015 7:43 pm
She moved further within herself.
"That seems to be a lie." She closed her eyes, "It's obviously a problem, because you are obviously stopping by to ask me about a very obvious situation." There went her calm afternoon right?
"There is school, but if you couldn't tell..." She gestured down to her St. Mags uniform. "I'm in a school that's meant for troublemakers like me."
So she stopped.
"Is today your...day off too? or do you not work?"
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Posted: Thu Nov 05, 2015 10:17 pm
Fritz stared at her for a moment, and then laughed, half incredulous, half amused. He shook his head, red hair falling against his face, and said, "No, it wasn't a lie - it's not a problem for me, only for you if you're not supposed to be here in the first place."
She was wearing a school uniform, which certainly answered his question - which left the question of why.
"Freelance," said Fritz easily, and still he remained where he was, some of the earlier mirth that had been in his eyes giving away to something a lot quieter, a lot simpler. He tilted his head to the side, eyebrows raised.
"So, troublemaker - why not school?"
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Posted: Fri Nov 06, 2015 11:32 am
"It's not like they really care." She muttered, "St. Mags is just a cesspool of trouble and they have their hands full. One missing girl from class is no big deal in the grand scheme." After all, the only reason she was in St. Mags was because of court order. The fights she had finished had made her...defiant. Trouble. They never really looked beyond the surface.
She stiffened as she heard a man's voice, much like her fathers and turned her head, scanning the park. Not him. She relaxed again and looked back at Fritz.
"Freelancing." She cocked her head, "Freelancing for what? Construction?" She had always wondered what that sort of life was like. Freelancing seemed like a term for like...a nomad or something.
"I'm not feeling well." She looked away from him, back to the pond. "It's easier to be here."
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Posted: Sat Nov 07, 2015 3:03 pm
"Learning is important," said Fritz, giving Regan a pointed look. "You shouldn't skip it, otherwise where else will you get your knowledge? And don't say the internet or the streets, because neither one of those is reliable in the slightest, especially the former.
Especially because Fritz hated the internet with a passion, but he wasn't about to say that.
He caught the way she seemed to tense, his brow furrowing, but Fritz made no comment of it, merely watched her quietly. His eyes fell on her face, on the unusual thickness that seemed to be across her cheek; and the frown on his face deepened a little, Fritz taking a small step towards her.
"Artist," he said lightly. "I'm a painter."
He was looking at her quite carefully, seriously for once, lacking his usual joking manner.
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Posted: Tue Nov 10, 2015 1:58 pm
She actually liked learning. It was hard to do though when you were picked on, interrupted in class by other girls or just generally ignored by teachers.
"I read books. Remember?" She had met him in a bookstore. "My job choice doesn't require schooling though. It requires good hands and effort." Being a mechanic was easy enough. She picked it up fast.
His stare got more intense and her chin raised just a little.
"A painter then. Are you successful?" She tried not to sound ruder because of his staring, she hated when it was stared at. Any of it. Anything that made her remember, that in the end, she was weak, small girl.
She looked away from him, her gaze never meeting his eyes.
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Posted: Wed Nov 11, 2015 8:58 pm
"What job choice is that?" Fritz asked, with a tilt of his head. He was under the impression that he was intruding in on her business, but he couldn't get their last meeting out of his head - not after she'd told him that she didn't believe in love, and what sort of teenager thought that? There was a very strange, lonely feeling emanating from her that made it hard to walk away.
"I'm relatively successful, yes," said Fritz mildly, and Regan had turned away from him, but he hadn't stopped looking at her or walked away. "No gallery yet, but I'm working on it. I do online art as well, I work on a webcomic with my brother, Tolliver."
His tone was still casual.
"Being a painter, you know," he said lightly, hands tucked into the pockets of his coat. "It means I'm good with color. I've studied it for years, taken dozens of classes on it, spent my life learning how to mix shades and hues so that they all work cohesively together. Which means..."
His voice lowered just a little, though Fritz's face was still quite calm.
"Which means that I can tell that there's something up with your cheek," he said quietly. "That makeup is a shade darker than is right for your complexion."
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Posted: Wed Nov 11, 2015 11:30 pm
"Mechanic. Cars. Building, restoring." She said with a careful tone, he had been polite enough to answer about his career. He wouldn't leave until she answered about hers. "I am learning, from my uncle." She sighed.
"A webcomic." She actually perked, "What's it about?" Her gaze shifted immediately as he questioned her face, of the make up. The panic would set in, as she thought more about it.
She couldn't tell him, he was a stranger, she didn't even know who he was really. Her hands dug into her uniform. The flash of pain and connection.
"It's a bruise." She muttered, "Not being careful. It's none of your business." she looked away. "What's your webcomic?"
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Posted: Fri Nov 13, 2015 11:09 pm
He remembered the magazines she had had in her basket, and raised an eyebrow, Fritz rocking back on his heels. "Well, that's pretty brilliant," he said lightly. "Not many young women enjoy that sort of thing, so I think that's pretty awesome."
He could sense the slight interest, and it was an opening, a side of her he hadn't yet seen.
"Adventures of a museum curator where everything he touches comes to life accidentally," said Fritz with a smile, though his gaze was focused on the makeup on her cheek; at the discoloration he could sense, the fact that it was a shade off, not quite fitting.
He took a step forward and casually sat down next to Regan, crossing one leg over the other, Fritz's hands still in his pockets.
"That's a painful place to get a bruise," he said mildly.
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Posted: Tue Nov 17, 2015 3:30 pm
"I highly doubt your life is like Night in the Museum." She made a scoffing sound instead, "Give me the link though." She dug in her school bag and pulled out the pad and paper, it was filled with various sketches and measurements of car parts. Flipping to a blank page, she handed it over.
"Well, It's a pretty painful process in getting it either." She left her frown dip down even more. "I don't need a white knight." She just needed to buck up for herself. Needed to learn to defend herself. Needed to believe she could.
"It's not the first, and it won't be the last." She leaned back. "That's the kind of world I live in."
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Posted: Thu Nov 19, 2015 8:16 pm
He cracked a smile as he accepted the pen and paper, Fritz somewhat surprised at Regan's interest, however mild. Still, he wrote down the link - and then, because he couldn't quite help himself, added a bunch of smiley faces around it, as well as some hearts.
He didn't hand it back to her right away, however. Fritz kept drawing, trying intensely hard not to let his face change at the white knight comment, because damned if that was not the most ironic choice of words, and Regan would never even know.
But the rest of what she was saying...Fritz continued to draw, but his lighthearted expression had disappeared entirely, replaced by a frown of concern.
"Not the last?" he repeated, and lifted his head, the pencil stopped in the middle of a messy sketch of a cat. "What - you're telling me that this is going to happen again?"
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Posted: Thu Nov 19, 2015 11:32 pm
She was watching him doodle on her page with a growing curiosity as to why he was taking so long to write down a link, but his question made her cringe and she wasn't sure how to respond. She had told him enough as it was anyways.
Why tell him anymore now?
"I'm telling you that it doesn't concern you, nor do you need to worry about it." She stood up now and reached out for the pad. "Notebook." She rose a brow, but tried not to move her face to much as it only jarred the pain.
"I've wasted enough time here, I can head back to my shop." There was no point in trying to reach out, what could Fritz do to a man like her father? Take her away? haha. Chase already tried to, and bless the man for trying but it didn't take the problem away. It just moved it to another area.
She cringed again thinking of her uncle who she would have to explain why she had the bruise again. Telling him that her father was around would only upset him more, so she was prepared to tell him it was just bullies at school.
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