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 Posted: Tue May 31, 2016 3:41 am
Dawn broke in its usual callous coldness and Alois greeted the day in equal fervor. It was never a welcome choice to wake with the morning sun, but rather a lamented byproduct of growing insomnia. His life grew simpler and simpler, more compartmentalized, more streamlined and yet he grew ever more weary of it. He saw the same faces. He worked on the same projects. He mounted the same native fauna in the Ashdown region. The sameness of each day spared him no quarter.
And so, each day, his interests turned to Other Ashdown. He wondered of it, marveled at what he knew of it, attempted to find these weary old portals that Finn mentioned so lackadaisically. And yet, he found no hidden entrances. He found no further information than what he obtained in the bookstore, or from his own experiences. Much to his chagrin, Alois needed assistance in this matter.
If Bibliophile, the lauded bookstore of the area, was anything like his family's business, then the bookstore owner would prove quite indispensable in his search for information. If ever there existed a book on Other Ashdown, he would know of it. And if the owner had lived in this area for many years, then he himself should have some perfectly useful experiences to share with him.
So when Alois entered the establishment, brazenly heedless of the no food or drink sign with gum in mouth, he did not allow the clerk at the fore much room to speak. "I want to speak with the owner," came his concise words. Fingers drummed restlessly on the countertop. "Is he in?"iloveyoudie a phone start because I left my laptop at the lab! Please let me know if I need to make changes!
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Posted: Tue May 31, 2016 7:40 am
The store was quiet, only a small group of students in the front sitting area taking advantage of the free wi-fi. It had the appeal of a more classic bookshop, the building adapted long ago from being a house into being a shop, but retaining the individual room layout and the original interior woodwork. It was quiet, the sort of place that lacked a coffee shop or the mass of advertising and signage that plagued bigger literary chains. The clerk behind the counter seemed to be college age, checking in a box of new stock with a barcode reader. Behind them in glass were older books, leather bound, some marked first edition or signed. There was a healthy collection of 'Red Herring Mysteries' as well as the newest book in the series propped up on display by the register. The clerk, upon being addressed so directly, looked immediately guilty as if the man were going to complain, "Ah- is something wrong sir? The owner is on a week sabbatical- ah, can I help you with something?" As if by divine intervention the door of the shop opened with a ding of the bell and a greying man with very green eyes, glasses, and fresh looking limp came in. The clerk looked apologetic but relieved, "Professor! Ah, here you go sir this is the owner." Algie recognized Alois from the library and automatically assumed this was related to the events there. He wasn't expecting a visitor (he was just stopping in to pick something up) but handled it with polite grace and a small smile. "Yes I'm the owner.." Alg hobbled over, the leather bag hanging off his shoulder wriggling as the white head of a cat popped out of it. Algie present a hand for a shake, "Professor Algernon Mixlin. Can I help you with something?" His name, by no coincidence at all, was the same as the author whose books were on display- he was the writer of the Red Herring Mysteries.
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Posted: Wed Jun 01, 2016 3:26 am
On a sabbatical my a**, Alois thought to himself before the clerk interjected halfway through his own statement. Shop owners don’t go on sabbaticals. Professors do-
Which, evidently, this shop owner was; Alois turned at the mention of the word to find himself tete-a-tete with a man who fit the iconic image of a classic midcentury professor. Greying hair, slightly long for a man’s style, dressed to the nines in a proper suit, and fit with the leather bag that denoted a burden of books or student papers or-
a cat.
Isn’t that something. I expect to see him turn up at my shop when that cat goes by the wayside. The man looked a little worse for wear in the way he walked, not quite upright and smooth as he would expect, but nothing about him spoke of obvious kyphosis. Maybe he hurt himself recently, or broke a hip, or got a hip replaced. Or he could’ve gotten mugged. Wouldn’t that make for an interesting story? Alois, however, remained silent for a time until the man introduced himself with a hand extended outward. At first, his brow furrowed with deep concentration, as Alois screened the words he thought he heard compared to general probability. Having never cared much for reading the author’s biography on the inside sleeve of hardcover novels, Alois knew decidedly little about living others. They just weren’t interesting until they died.
But this one, this older fellow with his companion cat and his bookstore and his doctorate, said quite specifically the name Algernon Mixlin. That, Alois reasoned, wasn’t a name often mixed up with others. In fact, where else did anyone hear such a name beyond the classic Flowers for Algernon?
„You’re shitting me,“ Alois found himself muttering. His gaze darted to the familiar line of mystery novels displayed proudly at the front of the store, then back to the quiet eyes of the man, then back to the spines of the book. Algernon Mixlin. That would be author Algernon Mixlin, of the ongoing series Red Herring Mysteries. How about that. Alois struggled to detain the innate excitement that sprung up when he met an author of any acclaim, though he only did so with great difficult.
Granted, he swallowed hard, and fought to choose the right turns of phrases in present company. „Entschuldig- er, ah, sorry. I didn’t expect to…“ he trailed off, gesturing in circular motions toward the series, „meet an author here. I would shake hands, but I mutilate the corpses of animals for eight hours a day. „ I don’t even jerk off anymore without wearing gloves. „Alois Scholz.
„Ah, yes. I have some complicated questions. Is there a place where we can speak freely?“iloveyouDIE alois emphatically reminds himself to restrain his inner fanboy
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Posted: Wed Jun 01, 2016 8:46 am
"Theres probably more authors around than you expect," Algie smiled politely, "I was just lucky enough to be published." His literature wasn't exactly high brow but it was entertaining and he'd been lucky enough to seen it adapted for TV. The older man's bag wriggled again and paws appeared, then the cat was worming it's way out of the gap in the bag, tilting the entire thing with her weight. She was especially long, very white and soft looking, and was yawning and stretching before he length was even out of the bag. "Violetta, really.." The professor huffed softly, shaking the bag to get her fully loose and upon freedom the cat, giving Alois a sniff, brushed past his legs to leap to the counter and get attention from the clerk she knew. "Pardon me, Alois yes," He motioned towards the back, "I remember you from the library. You seemed to escape unscathed." At least from a quick sweep of the eyes. "I dislocated my knee and they've got me trussed up in this bloody brace-" Alg's gait was stiff, "But nothing was torn so I just have to wait for the swelling to go down." The scratches across his shoulder were hidden thankfully, and not nearly so debilitating. He walked them past bookshelves, a magazine and audiobook section, into a door marked 'Employees Only'. What had been the house's kitchen had been made into a breakroom. The major appliances were long gone but the sink, counters, and a new fridge remained. There were all the minor conveniences though - microwave, toaster oven and a small electric burner with a well used tea kettle beside it. "Have a seat. Would like something to drink? I'm afraid I only really keep tea or water here. Everything else is probably an employees.." Alg popped open the fridge for a gander and closed it finding nothing. "I'm going to assume this is about the library?"
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Posted: Fri Jun 03, 2016 11:12 pm
Escape unscathed I did, if we’re not counting the three-day bender in the aftermath. Alois followed without comment, however, as his mind quickly returned to the various adventures told in the Red herring Mysteries series and how the whole of that book line sprang from the mind of the man he followed. He always formed a particular mental image of an author, spun from their literary and stylistic choices in their novels, and the visage he concocted for one Algernon Mixlin did not match the real deal before him. He expected old, and quite learned, though that was where the similarities ended. It was, at least, a point of interest for Alois to chew on during the silence.
Alois slipped behind and into the break room that recognized from his prior visit with Jeremiah. Again, he chose the spot against the counter, where he leaned and folded arms over chest. The black cardigan jacket he wore swam slightly on him, but remained a great comfort for how he could lace both arms through one sleeve. „Your knee,“ he started with a nod, „you managed that in the library?“ He could’ve easily acquired the injury elsewhere - older fellows were not particualrly renowned for their hardiness - but it seemed a likely choice.
As Alois did not particularly enjoy cats, he was happy to find that he needn't play pet babysitting duty while they held a conversation in the bookstore break room. „Tea is fine if it’s black. I wasn’t planning on asking about the library particularly until I recognized you from it. You were helping Aleksy with the detective. I suppose this will make my goals much easier.
„You see, I was hoping the owner of Bibliophile knew something about the local folklore. If not the Other Ashdown phenomenons, he would at least know of it and be able to recommend books of the sort - creditable or otherwise. But since you’ve already witnessed some of the bizarre phenomenon, that makes my questions easier. What do you know of Other Ashdown? What can you tell me about it?
„And since you were part of the Job Faire bullshit, what have you learned of that? What was that person-creature that attacked everyone?“
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Posted: Mon Jun 06, 2016 1:19 pm
Algie lived on tea and thus he he made a decent cuppa, "Just twisted the knee when the first Were went crazy in the hall." Alois had been there which meant he didn't have to worry about the pretenses of the police 'story'. The kettle was put on and Alg fished in a cabinet for a snack since the fridge had turned up nothing. Judging by his paunch Alg was a healthy eater. "Weres.. like were wolves apparently but of any furry animal sort. Afraid I don't know a ton else, though I know at least one person who is one. I'm sure she'd be happy to talk with you." At mention of local lore he chuckled, "Yes I've a few books but you won't find much about the 'phenomenon' as you call it. I've gone that path. I can tell you I've been to other ashdown at least. Several times." He'd found some oreos, wondered who kept buying them, but set them down on the table to munch on anyway. "I can recommend a book or two on the local legends. Native American mostly but all the tribes have died out. The only family remaining, that I know of, is one of the missing children's. Adoelle. But it'd be a bit tasteless to interrogate them with their child still unaccounted for." Not that he didn't know where she was, or what she was doing.
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Posted: Wed Jun 08, 2016 8:34 am
“Weres? Like werewolves? Full moon and silver bullets bullshit? I don’t particularly remember it being a full moon that night, but…“ But he never often thought a full moon was a noteworthy occurrence. Now, however, he’d be watching the lunar charts and wondering. Would they expect more outbursts like this in the coming months? Was it a one-off occurrence? Were they to band together as an angry mob and murder all the were-things? Alois chewed his gum thoughtfully. „Who is this were-person?“
If someone who owned a bookstore in the area and had been to Other Ashdown several times told him that there’s not much for pursuing the written text route, then he saw little reason to make a second go of it. While he assisted in his parents’ bookstore, he never often tracked down any texts for purchase as an owner might, and thus would not much compare to Algernon’s attempts. A pity, that - he would’ve liked a learning route that involved no discussions with others.
Alois vacantly watched the bookstore owner eat. If books aren’t much for answers, then Native American legends hold little for me. I suppose it must be firsthand experiences only, then. There weren’t books on the new world before the first venture reached it. Pioneering still isn’t dead, I suppose. „And what have you found in Other Ashdown yourself? What have your experiences taught you?“iloveyouDIE did you still want to do jaro and alois discussing claws?
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Posted: Sat Jun 11, 2016 10:18 am
"It was a full moon," Algie didn't track it but he remembered the radio station in the car talking about how crazy traffic was and how nutty people were acting on account of the full moon week. He never put stock in those things but of course it seemed like he should now, "Not sure about the silver bullets but- I found it wild really. Who'dve thought, hm?" "Other Ashdown is-" Alg frowned, "Dreary and wet, quiet, and dangerous. It takes you if it wants you unless you have the ability to find the way in. It also spits you out just the same. It's certainly magical - and nothing really is as it seems." Because everything seemed spooky, everything seemed dangerous, but he knew it wasn't all like that. Sometimes it was hard to tell where the lines were drawn. "If there is day and night- good and evil- I'd say other ashdown is all the shades of grey." He paused, "You haven't had anything strange happen to you personally have you? Dreams maybe? Powers or odd occurences?" Besides the Library, obviously.
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Posted: Mon Jun 13, 2016 6:17 am
“Fancy that.“ Alois’ smile splayed wide and invitingly, with an edge of ever-present harshness bestowed from his demeanor. „Now all we’re missing are vampires, as I’m sure those will come about if we wait long enough. Best to wear our garlic wreathes and carry bushels of wolfsbane at all times, is it not?“
His smile faded through the corse of the explanation, and he found wisdom there that he himself already experienced. It was, he estimated, the truest truth that he experienced in recent age, when Algernon spoke that nothing was as it seemed in Other Ashdown. While the rain still gave way to wetness, and the forest still housed many a thicket of bush or blade of grass, that was indeed where sense departed from it. In its wake, there were tombstones wrought for the living in many repeated fashions, and strange breaksfrom reality that seldom precipitated in works such as Alice in Wonderland, or Mirrormask, or even the wicked tales present in the imaginative Lord of the Rings. With it, however, came the very same rush of childish glee often felt when reading the most fantastic of novels, and that was perhaps why Alois felt himself inevitably drawn to the otherworld.
„I’ve had odd dreams,“ he confirmed after a beat. „The man who was slashed, Aleksy, asked me if I had them when I first met him. I don’t know how he knew, but it seemed to me at the time that he knew my answer to his question before I knew it myself. No powers that I am aware of, and nothing else truly notable. I was lost there once, and counted thirteen headstones with my name on them in the nearby cemetery. That was when I met Ranger Derouen, and he brought me back to, shall we say, more familiar realms.“ Long fingernails hooked on the seam of formica and tugged, eliciting harsh taps as fingers slipped in their grip.
Alois paused again as he considered further anomalies. „Apart from the incident at the job faire, the only thing of note I’ve heeded was a remarkable number of dead animals in these parts. But, I can’t be sure that it’s somehow different from the usual death rates here. For all I know, roadkill is an easy commonality and the main water sources for wildlife are sick with pesticides and heavy metals and industrial waste. I’ve heard tell of more useful things, but.“ And his sentence ended there, bitten off by prudence or a natural urge toward secrecy.
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Posted: Mon Jun 13, 2016 9:09 am
Alg listened and nodded, understanding when the other man spoke of Aleksy. "Aleksy can see. He can see those who are marked by the other side, those who have powers. They look different to him." Alg looked at his own hands a moment, turning them over, "He focused on my hands when I first met him and I hadn't had the dreams yet. He said my powers were incubating." His broad hands clenched then and he leaned a hip on the counter, "Eventually the powers showed themselves. If you've been to the other side then you surely have a power and you just haven't found it yet." Alg scratched his temple, "Ask me something- some small inane piece of information that's unlikely to be off the top of my head. Anything. Vacation rates to the Caribbean or... the air speed velocity of an unladen swallow-" Alg smiled a bit at that but his splayed hands were offering this as some sort of demonstration.
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Posted: Mon Jun 13, 2016 9:30 am
Alois blinked at the other man. „It sounds like Aleksy is the one I need to see for this ‚powers‘ thing.“ If only he weren’t still in the hospital, stuck playing inane games. Alois sighed inwardly; he would need to further inquire with Aleksy at a later date - probably through Finn.
„Alright.“ Straightening up, Alois scoured his own experiences for inane information that Algernon had no chance of knowing. Finally, he spoke. „When is the evening train departure from München to Füssen on a Thursday, and how long does that train ride take?“ It was, at least, something that he himself had experienced and could validate, while similarly information that Algernon had no business knowing. Plus, it did not merit the additional question of African or European, as was the case with the unladen swallow.
„Is this supposed to be some kind of power of yours? If so, it seems useless.“iloveyouDIE for ease of reference, train departure is at 07:52PM and lasts 2 hours 08 minutes. source
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Posted: Mon Jun 13, 2016 10:04 am
"He can't tell what your powers are-" Alg shrugged, "He couldn't with me. Just told me I would have one. Everyone taken by other ashdown has one so far as I've been led to believe. Assuming the were-people as well." Which, it just dawned on him now, they were both gifted with magical powers and could turn into animals - and possibly rabid monsters. At the question, obviously something he wouldn't know, Alg squeezed his fists again and began looking around. In the cabinets, then in the drawers... and then he held a hand up. The older man left the room for a few moments and came back with a trash bin from the bathroom, it was filled with tissues and wrappers but in a moment he was pulling out a sheet of notebook paper that had been crumpled in a ball and had a scrawled rough timetable of the train times and was clearly scribbled as 'GermanRailPasses.com - tell mom - bad times?? too expensive?? ' right at the top of it. There was no trip lengths, but it was uncanny anyway. "It seems the universe is keen to provide me with whatever I'm looking for- or a rough estimation- if I look hard enough." The paper was dropped back in the bin. "Sometimes an odd magazine in my bathroom. Once it was a book from the future.. or past? I'm not really sure." He'd have to ask Autumn about that. "In the library I'd attempted to find a book on the were's. All I was provided was a book on the predators of New England. So- slightly helpful but not quite?"
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Posted: Tue Jul 26, 2016 7:13 am
“I’d say the werefolk are the ones with the real, recognizable power. It’s… a matter of taste with the word.“ Fingers fumbled around in pockets for an object no longer present. „If it’s not useful, if it doesn’t make a real, discernible impact on your life, is it really a ‚power‘? ‚Macht‘ isn’t a word I’d assign to something so trivial as knowing random unhelpful information. Or, whatever it is that I might be capable of. If I haven’t noticed it, I wouldn’t call it a power.“
Algernon brandished related information regardless, and Alois looked it over with a quirk of the brow. „Sounds like something that detective would find handy for his job. A clue at every turn. Not so terribly useful for a bookstore owner, I imagine.“ The hell does he mean by a ‚book from the past‘? All books are from the past. Perhaps powers required an attunement phase: the proud owner of the ability needed to exercise it and properly hone it to reflect the information most desired. Or, perhaps powers were not like skills at all - whatever he received was how it remained for all eternity. Alois hated how little he understood of these matters.
„I’m surprised. I would think any folklore on were-anythings - even teen fiction - would have some answers. Or are we avoiding them because of the ‚fiction‘ label? Is there a little literary bias going on here?“ He gave a teasing, cockeyed smile.
„I don’t intend to suck up too much of your time on conjecture and estimation. I didn’t realize that these topics were so ill-understood. That makes it even more curious, doesn’t it? No one’s written down the answers for us; we’re all pioneers into Other Ashdown. Please let me know if you find anything substantial, Mr. Mixlin.“
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Posted: Tue Jul 26, 2016 7:37 am
"I'd say it's handy for any sort of research. I'm also an author and an educator. And I've already had it benefit me, teach me, here and on the other side." Algie hadn't had anyone tell him his power wasn't good enough before. He also had more power than just that but a man who was reluctant to shake his hand wasn't going to like that he had to touch him for it. He also wasn't feeling very keen on helping or showing off now. "You seem to only put value in the physical. A were-creature would have enhanced strength? Speed? Perhaps I'm a bit more of a 'knowledge is power' type. Suppose I learn to suspend them in mid air- where is the good in their strength then? Perhaps I cage them?" Not that he could now but he'd learned that in other ashdown willpower was true power, and it remained to assume that anyone with a stronger will would come out on top of all others despite their natural prowess. "I've no judgement on fiction. I write it, so if there is bias there it's only on account of the fact that all the supernatural research a writer does, in the end they are essentially making things up to entertain people." Alg shrugged with a smirk. Why would these topics be well understood? People continually came to him expecting there would be some instruction manual, that he would have a history book about Ashdown and it's peculiarities. This wasn't Beetlejuice. There was no 'Handbook for the Recently Deceased'. "No offense sir," Alg straightened as Alois seemed as if he was wrapping up his visit, "But I've found my experiences here, the things I've seen and done, to be very personal. This magical journey, whatever it is, is mine." He gestured to Alois, "And yours will be your own. And entirely different I assume." He motioned to the door, "So unless I find out the world is ending in 24 hours, I don't imagine you'll be hearing from me on my discoveries. And I wouldn't expect any more from you either, unless our needs and journeys align."
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Posted: Tue Jul 26, 2016 8:07 am
“You misunderstand me.“ A smile started to form. „There is use in the physical, yes, but… Your power is more like trying to kill a fly with a shotgun. It’s unfocused, and there’s a high chance you’ll miss the mark. If there was a way to focus that power, for more accurate results, then it would be perfectly viable. I appreciate utility, that’s all. You can say it’s a trademark of my country.“
It was, however, curious to hear a fiction author’s take on other fiction novelists. He wondered, then, if Algernon MIxlin placed much stake in the golden age of Science Fiction and Harlan Ellison’s prefaces of such. „I’m surprised you put so little stake in it. Science Fiction in its golden age often prefaced the inventions we have now. That’s all due to their research, logic, and imagination. To me, fiction requires much more research and creativity than nonfiction to weave a believable story. To put this on topic, it seems to me that fiction writers are much more likely to hold clues and answers about this Other Ashdown than, say, folklore compilations.“
The cold brush toward the door wasn’t unexpected - Alois knew he touched a nerve, and for that, he knew more about the fiction author he read once before. „I’ll be waiting excitedly for that call, then.“ Alois pushed himself from the surface of the counter, wiped palms against pants habitually, and drifted toward the door in the same hands-off manner as before.
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