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Post by Trey Wolfe on Jul 27, 2011 4:01:47 GMT -5
A morning spent in New York Public library was probably a morning well spent, but after four hours of pouring over books it sure didn't feel like it. By the time she called it 'lunch', Trey was full of restless energy and left with a desire to begin swinging her feet and start humming very loudly. She left before that could happen, heading over to the park that was also located on the island.
It really was a shame she'd spent the morning indoors, because it was a nice day. Well, it was sunny at least. It was unusually cool, and the still breeze (probably common on the islands, she imagined) didn't help, but a blue sweater over her shirt fixed that. Even if the shirt did have a collar, which felt stiff against her neck. She'd needed to dress a little more nicely than usual that morning - breakfast with a member of the family she'd left behind before heading to the library, they'd wanted to see if she was settling in alright. On the one hand, she looked respectable and gainfully employed. On the other hand, not even a pink barrette could have made her look feminine in this sweater. On the third hand (she always seemed to need extra limbs, these days), that wasn't something she had an issue with. It was just a little awkward to have one of the younger librarians try and flirt with her over maths books.
Yet another reason why taking a break from study, to stretch out over a park bench and eat her sandwich was a good idea. Probability wasn't even that interesting to begin with, certainly not when compared to other areas of mathematics, like algebra. If she never had another required prerequisite subject again, she wouldn't feel at all remorseful.
It was a nice view though; she could see the water from here; choppy, white-tipped waves covering the harbor, and the sound of waves was nearly constant enough to be the beat of a nonsense song she could make up as she went. It probably looked better with full vision, though.
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Post by Ethan Darcy on Jul 27, 2011 7:50:21 GMT -5
On her way to work one morning
Down the path along side the lake
A tender hearted woman
saw a poor half frozen snake [/size][/color][/center]
“Well, I leave with the demoralizing thought that I am stuck in the Main Branch rather than this positively delightful and much preferable section of the Library” a naturally charming tenor voice lisped its goodbyes in an accent prominent enough to let one wonder where it came from yet so soft it was difficult to pin point to any one place.
A giggle replied.
“Thank you for all your help, you have certainly made my visit worthwhile” again the voice charmed with such finesse that it was hypnotic. “If I’m lucky maybe I’ll get transferred” there was a hint of a smile in the tone, a pause, then another giggle.
“Nice to meet you, Mr Darcy” the giggler spoke,
“The pleasure was entirely mine” Ethan Darcy spoke the cliché without any irony, but decided that kissing the young librarian’s hand would be a step too far even for him, so he decided merely to place his hat on his head- Ethan wore hats and no one was going to question it- and nodded his goodbye before moving out the door smoothly.
His morning job was done, his inspection of the Roosevelt Island branch of the New York Public Library was complete, and rather than hurry back to the bustling Main branch he decided he’d make the most of his surroundings.
The Park was the obvious choice of destination, perhaps he would find somewhere to pick up a sandwich on the way, or perhaps he’d forget about the food, get over excited and run towards the nearest water source like a small child running towards a paddling pool.
The cool breeze lifted the lapels of his jacket as he took it off and slung it over his shoulder in the ways he’d seen the runway models do when he lost his TV remote and got stuck on ‘E!’ for two days. Useful channel to update on all the Hollywood gossip though, and Ethan was proud to say that he knew everything there is to know about Lindsay Lohan’s life to date.
Jauntily he stepped off the path and meandered over the grass, he looked about for a “Keep off the grass” sign but decided even if he saw one he was bound to ignore it, Ethan hated those signs.
The grass in the shade was still damp from the night’s dew and the sensation of the water left a tingling feeling in his spine. He couldn’t resist, he flexed his fingers and the droplets tugged themselves together and made a small silvery tower curling up towards his hands before he flicked his fingers and the droplets dispersed.
He glanced around, spying a bench in the mid distance, the only one around but occupied.
He recognised the gentleman. He’d seen him studying as he had wandered through the Library with the giggler, odd, Ethan thought, how sometimes you wouldn’t recognise any faces around you for weeks at a time, and then other days you just keep on seeing the same face.
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Post by Trey Wolfe on Jul 27, 2011 18:00:34 GMT -5
A glint of sunlight in her eyes made Trey turn her head. For a second it looked as though there was a tiny glass pillar, sparkling in the sun. The next moment she had blinked, and the illusion was gone. The image had been on her left, so she hadn't seen it very clearly. Maybe it was an illusion, her mind tricking her with phantom images in the same way she sometimes felt phantom pains over scars long healed over. Yes, that would be it. She'd seen something shiny out of the right eye, too far too the left for her to see anything properly, and she'd just come up with the most imaginative image possible for her blind left eye. It was too fantastic to exist.
Said the teleporter. Hm.
She turned her body to get a better look at where she thought she'd seen it anyway. Great, that made the wind blow from behind her, messing up her hair and blowing it all into her face. Good thing it was so short. Now she had a better view, she finally noticed that there was a person over there, standing where her illusion had been. A man, somewhat older than her. Well dressed in a way that tended to be preferred by people about five to ten years older than her age-range, anyway. She wasn't that talented at guessing ages; she blamed it on the fact her father had always looked a full decade or more younger than he actually was.
She realised, quite suddenly, that it must have seemed like she was staring. The first tilt of her head would have made it seem like she was watching him – with her blind eye covered as it was, it was not at all obvious that he had been out of her sight-range until she'd turned around more fully. Quite the opposite, it would seem like he was directly in her path of sight the whole time. That was a bit embarrassing.
She looked down to her sandwich, continuing to nibble away at the crust and leave the white inside bread for last as she considered the politest course of action. Turn back to the view, as she would have normally, and claim to have been daydreaming if he approached? Wave – no, she didn't know him, that would just be awkward. Move away? But she was comfortable where she was on her side of the bench, and didn't want to give it up.
Or she could just continue to start at the sandwich she was eating, and wait for him to get bored and leave. That would probably work. And to be fair, it was a good sandwich. It had cheese in it. Heh, her father used to put ketchup on his cheese toast, and laughed at her when she wrinkled his nose at it. Too bad she didn't have any of that with her; the sight of someone mixing ketchup and cheese without some sort of meat medium would probably deter anyone.
Trey found herself staring at the one of the large trees in front of her. Her father had spent quite a bit of time in New York – always in short doses – for work. Did he spend time in the libraries here researching things? Sit in this park eating his (Icky! Shut up, inner child. You ate ice cream with ketchup once.) cheese-and-ketchup-without-any-other-condiments sandwiches? Probably not the first, dad hadn't been as big a fan as sitting at a desk with paper and pens as Trey was. He always said she got her brains from her mother, whoever that was.
She found herself sighing, suddenly melancholy. There were times where it seemed like any tangent she thought along always led back to her father these days.
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Post by Ethan Darcy on Jul 28, 2011 7:49:01 GMT -5
On her way to work one morning
Down the path along side the lake
A tender hearted woman
saw a poor half frozen snake [/size][/color][/center]
Poor Ethan always struggled with human age, he supposed he was an older looking chap, not middle aged, but distinguished, he realised he didn’t have the youthfulness of the gentleman sat upon the bench not so far away, and he didn’t mind. It suited the style with which he carried himself, Ethan didn’t realise it, but he was an old fashioned type of guy, his charm and politeness was uncommon in this era and it made a pleasant and surprising change to the attitudes most people came across from day to day.
Unfortunately in the same way he wasn’t very practiced at gauging people’s ages, neither was he particularly practiced in coping with situations of different tensions.
He realised that this was a potentially embarrassing situation, the man was staring at him, flat out staring at him, which he happened to have caught has he scanned over the park, which meant it now looked like he was staring back.
Well, actually, he was. No point in denying it.
He didn’t mean to be.
Well, actually, he did. Ethan was a “stare-er”.
As if a snake could do anything but stare, it was pretty much written into their genetic make-up, and with his steely blue gaze boy did he manage to make staring an art form. Hypnotic and unquestionable from a handsome man who had kindness written into his smile but with an unsettling ability to stare at you with a cobra like intensity.
How to resolve this? He needed to get past in order to get to the water, but then with someone so close was it even worth getting closer to the water?
Heck, it was always worth getting close to water, but how to not make this situation any weirder than it was becoming, the last thing he needed was to draw unnecessary attention to himself.
He wondered whether he should whistle. People whistled when they wanted to look nonchalant didn’t they?
He pursed his lips as he tried to think of an appropriate tune he could whistle, but then suddenly thought better of it, maybe if he started whistling he’d look crazy. Or at least crazier than he was beginning to look now, he should probably just keep walking.
Moving gently over the grass, his shoes a little damp from parts of the green, he looked up at the sky, making sure not to look at the man on the bench at least until he was a little closer, that way it wouldn’t look like he was walking over... would it?
He frowned, a dark cloud on the horizon that promised rain despite the good forecast that he’d watched this morning, the moisture he felt in the air promised the rain that the cloud suggested, but he doubted it would arrive for a few hours at least, nothing to worry about but enough to distract him for a few steps more, and before he knew it he was nearing the bench where the young gentleman ate his sandwich.
Cheesy.
Ethan managed not to wrinkle his nose. He was a big fan of milk, but cheese was a step too far for him, he couldn’t cope with cheese, it made him uncomfortable. He flicked his gaze up at the man, his blue eyes focusing in and making a quick assessment as his mouth moved into an easy smile, “Afternoon” he said with a nod of his head, wondering if it was indeed afternoon or morning, he’d forgotten to check his watch before he’d made his statement.
Damn it. Mistake number one.
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Post by Trey Wolfe on Jul 29, 2011 0:14:04 GMT -5
Even after Trey had turned away, she could feel the older man staring at her. It was a prickly, hair-raising feeling she was both accustomed to and had no fondness for. As a child, her mafia family and associates had stared curiously at the tiny child holding the hand of one of their most dangerous men. When she was older, it was the clothes - or to a few select people because she had suddenly appeared from thin air in front of them. She'd never liked that attention - first they were judging their father with their stares, then they were judging her (and really, who were those nobodies to think they had any right to judge anyone?), and finally because she scared them, just a little.
Trey hadn't liked the attention, but honestly also never been bothered by the fact people stared at her like that, but she did think it was a waste of time. It fell into that deep well of apathy she had towards other people's judgements. She didn't really want to admit it, but the only reason she was being stared at now bothered her was because she'd done it first. Unintentionally, but that only rubbed her injury in more.
The sensation of being stared at hard remained for a several long minutes. Trey rather wished the bench faced the other direction; then she could have stretched out over the bench, tilted her head back a little as though she was just enjoying the sun and wind, and kept watched in her peripheral vision. As it was, her vision cut off about two trees left of the center of the view in front of her. One of the many traits she learnt from the people she was trying to distance herself from was a healthy amount of suspicion to odd behavior around her.
Odd was subjective though.
The sound of crunched grass made her glance over. The man was strolling over, staring up at the sky. She would have believed he path of direction was coincidental if he hadn't spent the last five minutes watching her. Instead it was, in its own way, quite odd and suspicious. She tilted her head a watched his path for a few moments, to see if he'd give up the act.
When he didn't she returned to her sandwich. Strange, she didn't remember putting lettuce in it, and yet here it was.
She was still distracted with mulling over her sandwich content when her finally approached her properly with a greeting. Trey looked up, expression in her visible eye friendly as she gave a nod of the head, "Hello."
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Post by Ethan Darcy on Jul 29, 2011 11:50:03 GMT -5
On her way to work one morning
Down the path along side the lake
A tender hearted woman
saw a poor half frozen snake [/size][/color][/center]
‘Crap. It’s awkward’
Ethan felt the tension rising, ‘Bugger’
He’d thought his plan was fool proof, just amble past and look as though it was all natural and normal, nothing out of the ordinary, he was just a guy who happened to be looking around at things for particularly long periods of time, nothing unusual there, some people just needed more time to look at things than others.
Clearly his plan hadn’t been as idiot proof as he’d initially thought, or maybe this young chap just wasn’t an idiot, though Ethan wasn’t in the habit of underestimating the humans, they were a sneaky bunch and so realistically he wasn’t surprised that his plan hadn’t worked.
He took a small intake of breath and released it slowly as he watched the young human in front of him, slowly his eyes narrowed as he made a quick evaluation of the sort of person he was dealing with, as he prepared to explain himself, all of this evaluation and preparation only took a second, maybe too before he opened his mouth to begin his explination.
He realised it wasn’t necessary to explain himself, this was New York, no one explained anything to anyone, but Ethan wasn’t a New Yorker.
He also decided this rather young man was pretty. Anyone could see that, somehow delicate, and Ethan found himself wondering how someone so fine looking could survive in a city that was crass and cruel. He found himself wondering this more frequently the longer he lived in the city, every time he saw a child playing he struggled to comprehend how children could live and be raised in a place so bleak, a place where everyone seemed solitary; the old saying “It takes a village to raise a child” was redundant in this city. It worried him, or the God of Fertility part of him at least.
“I do apologise” he offered half a grin, “I wasn’t staring, well, you know, I was staring, but not in a weird creepy way, although I realise now I look weird and creepy, but just in a forgot myself and didn’t realise I was staring sort of way” he explained, one hand in his pocket the other holding the jacket over his shoulder which he drew up into half a shrug, “Just, wanted to let you know” his smile was easy and his tone light, half joking, his voice a listenable tenor that brought a humour to the whole situation.
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Post by Trey Wolfe on Aug 2, 2011 22:44:05 GMT -5
Trey merely offered a shrug, "It happens to the best of us." She agreed pleasantly - because his own excuse for staring was really her excuse for staring, and he couldn't be upset or offended when they were staring in the same way. "Just so long as you didn't forget yourself because you were thinking about slitting my throat and filling it with the hair you shaved from my head." A beat, "Aaaand that was a bit too graphic and disturbing, so now I'm the creepy one. Sorry about that." She needed to stop saying all the details that popped into her head. So much for starting to grow out of it, "I guess I must have watched one too many murder mysteries."
The last bite of sandwich disappeared into her gullet, leaving her to mourn for it and brush the crumbs off her lap. The paper her sandwich had been wrapped in was crumpled in her hand as she got to her feet, glancing around for a bin. Failing to find one, she shrugged and stuffed it into a pocket to dispose of later and dusted off the back of her pants.
In an effort to prove that she wasn't seeing things, she glanced back over to the spot he had been standing before. No glimmer - but there was lots and lots of wind. Trey's hand immediately clamped over the fringe hanging over her left eye, trying to keep that in place while her other hand attempted to smooth out the rest of her short hair; tucking it behind ears, flattening the top and brushing strands away from her mouth.
Even so, she had no desire to go back to the library. A satisfying morning of playing with numbers had left her restless and desiring for some sort of physical action, so at the very least staying in the park would be better than disturbing people inside. Sometimes when she felt like this she played with her teleportation - games of 'how many tries will it take me to teleport a rock to that spot right there' and 'Teleport myself twice quickly enough that I appear over water but not fall in' (the second game was one that she had always lost). Those were also games that were best played alone, with no talkative gentlemen nearby.
Instead, she turned to said talkative gentleman, who was still next to her, "Well, I was here for the library - I was playing with linear algebra. What about you?"
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Post by Ethan Darcy on Aug 7, 2011 10:57:49 GMT -5
On her way to work one morning
Down the path along side the lake
A tender hearted woman
saw a poor half frozen snake [/size][/color][/center]
Humans were odd, Ethan decided, he was never going to understand them. Some didn’t even want to waste the time of day looking at you, then there were others that gave you a graphic insight into what they were thinking that instant. Disturbing to say the least, though Ethan had seen some things in his time, not to mention hear some rather grim stories, he was a mythical sort of creature after all, and with that came a long history of blood, guts and eagles.
“As positively delightful as that sounds, I’m afraid it wasn’t the first thing to cross my mind” Ethan said in reply to the gentleman’s description that sounded not unlike something that would fit right into a horror film, his eyes widened ever so slightly as if shocked, but the crows feet at the corner of his eyes wrinkled gently as proof of his entertainment, “Sorry to disappoint”
With his explanation complete Ethan glanced in the direction he planned on continuing, the water was so close could smell it on the air, feel it dancing around his fingertips, begging for him to return to it, he wondered whether or not he should return the way he came, maybe this was too risky, he had no idea who else might be lurking in the park.
Out of the corner of his eye he saw the young stranger he had approached solidly clamp his hand down over his fringe, it was the fashion now to have over sized hair that swept over ones features, and Ethan found it utterly odd. His own hair was bouncy, wavy, full of life... probably due to all the moisture it retained, and it was most certainly not the sort of hair that would respond well to being brushed down over his eyes. He wondered how the young chap was able to see. He turned his head back as the young man spoke, perhaps he couldn’t see, he did often wonder whether all these people with hair over half their face were affecting their eyesight, surely their one eye would just give up the ghost and stop working, get lazy, just allow the other eye to do all the work.
Blimey, this kid was very worried about his hair.
He smiled, there’s nothing wrong with a young fellow taking care about his appearance, Ethan watched him as he spoke, and he was polite enough too, a rarity in New York, and he was sure that had he been speaking to someone else they would have made their excuses and run a mile, as if they couldn’t stand being seen making friends with a stranger.
He hadn’t really been listening, caught up in his own trail of absent minded thought as the stranger decided to continue the conversation. Ethan was rather pleased that he had, he was sure to learn something new at some point in the brief chat, he often did when conversing with strangers, people really are quite peculiar.
He caught something about the library and algebra, he had no idea what that was but it was linear whatever, “You know, I was just there myself” he replied glancing back in the direction of the Library, “Quite a delightful bunch of people there” having not been at the library to read Ethan could only really mention the staff he’d encountered rather than the books he’d been studying, “Most helpful and accommodating” although they hadn’t offered him any refreshments of any sort, perhaps they were nervous, he supposed as their superior they had every right to be, though he had been nothing but pleasant and more than polite.
“Are there no books on linear algebra in the main Library?” Ethan enquired. He couldn’t recall seeing anything with such a title, but he supposed there must be some somewhere, it was a vast collection of documents, most things could be found there, including a particularly error-some book on Naga which had provided an entire afternoons worth of entertainment for him.
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Post by Trey Wolfe on Aug 8, 2011 7:13:30 GMT -5
“Oh don’t worry, that’s not at all disappointing. More like relieving, actually. If you had been thinking it, then its such a random thought that someone here must have telepathic powers – and since it’s not me, it would become a lot more difficult for me to escape as I’d need to.” Trey threw her arms to the side, “I apologize again for the disturbing and graphic imagery. I’d blame it on the horror movie marathon last night, but I didn’t watch it.” Too many horror movies had the main characters kidnapped, captured or trapped in some way, and that always caused nightmares of events that she still hadn’t fully gotten over. Scars, neither physical nor mental, didn’t heal no matter what the phrase said – you just got used to having them around.
And speaking of scars… Trey was well aware that she must have looked very odd, slapping down on her hair to told it in place over her eye rather than just let the wind have at it and straighten it later. She also knew she didn’t care. If there was one part of her appearance she was self-conscious of, it was the rough scar and her eyes milky appearance. People took one brief look at it and then just froze. Their expressions melted away from whatever they had been before into the same horrified and pitying at the same time. It was always the same expression.
Pity was the one judgment people could give her that she had an opinion of. She hated pity. Hated it, didn’t want it, didn’t need it. She wasn’t broken, wasn’t some fragile character in need of sympathy and patience and love to make her better – she was strong and she’d dealt with it – the rare nightmare induced by outside forces notwithstanding. She wanted it ignored. No pity, no hounding questions that refused to take ‘none of your business’ for an answer.
So let them think she was odd about her hair. She’d never cared about being odd, weird, freak before and she didn’t now. She could handle distain much more than she could handle pity.
So she revived the conversation, to distract her own trail of thoughts. Apparently the older man had also been in the library, “I’m afraid I didn’t notice you. But I was probably lost in some equation at the time. I get like that – or so I’m told, I’ve never noticed. Because I was lost in the equation at the time. It’s a bit cyclic.” She shrugged, though pointedly didn’t say anything about the staff. Flirting to someone trying to study, on company time, at a library wasn’t her definition of accommodating, but she also hadn’t tried to ask the librarian to get her more books either.
“There’s a few, but not a lot. Most of the books that address the topic at the main branch are physics, which is all very well and good but I needed some of pure maths and theory. And for some reason, most of that is over here and not at the main branch.” She considered, and then shrugged, apparently giving up on simplifying the explanation, “Basically, linear algebra in physics is limited by the limits of what science can measure right now. In pure maths its just… bigger. The theories have been proven, or justified, in the real world, so we can just follow them on.” He offered a vaguely sheepish grin, “I’m not explaining that very well, but my defense is I’m still a student at it.”
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Post by Ethan Darcy on Aug 10, 2011 12:59:59 GMT -5
On her way to work one morning
Down the path along side the lake
A tender hearted woman
saw a poor half frozen snake [/size][/color][/center]
Ethan’s eyes narrowed further as his mouth crinkled into a grin, he chuckled lightly and shook his head- this chap was crazy, and he found it rather refreshing. So far this was the first person he had chanced upon in this city that was speaking every single thing that seemed to pop into his head; most people he’d met had been infinitely more deceptive and much less open.
Ethan decided not to reveal his distaste for horror movies, he was willing to sit through anything on the television- he was a little fascinated by the entire concept- and had sat through plenty of horror and gore films, but not one had really appealed to him in the same way other films had. Perhaps it was the disregard of human life that he disliked, the disregard of any sort of life. Ethan liked life.
Desperate to pass comment on the hair thing Ethan knew he couldn’t, or shouldn’t rather. The last time he had passed comment on someone’s odd behavioural habit and elderly Jewish woman had had hit him with a handbag and had him arrested. An adventure he certainly didn’t want to repeat. So with that in mind he decided that perhaps he ought to focus on something else other than the hair. Definitely not the hair.
Stop staring at the hair.
Okay, good, he was back in the room.
For a reason that he hadn’t dwelt upon or tried to decipher Ethan rather liked keeping his career on the quiet if he could; it was probably because it proved much more fun when people who had been speaking about the library found out he worked there. Ethan was quite fond of things that turned out to be much more fun than he first expected.
“Oh don’t worry, I wasn’t there long, and I’m afraid I didn’t notice you either; must have been all those algebra books hiding you from the world”
Ethan still had no idea what algebra in the world, and the explanation that he was offered helped in no way what so ever. Whatever it was, it sounded like a whole lot of complicated.
“I see, makes perfect sense” Ethan smiled broadly and offered a nod of his head, “It’s good to see someone expanding horizons and showing interest in something” he said with a serious stare that was undermined by the twist of a grin curling the corners of his mouth.
Ethan found it difficult not to find most things amusing, so his features were rarely moulded into a serious disposition, often his steely cold gaze was warmed with a sparkle of amusement and pleasure.
“I’ve met far too many people who just seem to have no interest in anything, who seem empty, devoid perhaps, of curiosity” he shrugged, “Maybe I’m too curious and can’t see that everyone else who doesn’t seem so is merely normal”
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Post by Trey Wolfe on Aug 11, 2011 19:18:13 GMT -5
The older man stared at her hair, even after the wind had calmed again and Trey went through the automatic process of straightening it. She didn't worry herself with that; let him stare, let him wonder. It didn't hurt her in any way.
The fringe over her eye was patted, the edges run along so that they'd stay with the rest of the locks and not go off at odd angles. The rest of the hair was flattened down again so that it looked neat rather than windswept and with only minimal spiking. She was fortunate to have not really inherited her father's cowlick – a lock of hair at the back of his head that had always stuck up at the oddest angle no matter what he did. Her hair was much more willing to lay flat, though with its fine texture it was also significantly more willing to stand on end when static electricity was somehow involved.
“Oh absolutely, algebra books are a natural invisibility and repellent shield. People see a book with numbers on it, and all they see is that its an book with numbers on it, and then they run as far away as possible.” She sighed, “It seems like disliking maths is the accepting thing to do. I'd say it gets in the way of my social life, but I'm not sure I have one.” She wasn't a shut in, but she had been busy. Moving, getting used to university, studying, and a lack of interest in all the biggest party-centrals for her age group meant she was mostly socialising with people at uni, who she still wasn't that familiar with but at least made good study-buddies during tutorials.
To her friends back home – people she'd known her whole life, were very dear to her and she did miss – she might have made a comment about having no dating life. They would have laughed hysterically, because Trey had never been into the dating scene much and crossdressing was an awkward step to try and cross when looking for a partner. She didn't mention it now, because that would just be weird and she had already filled her 'freaky' quota for the conversation.
“I don't know about expanding horizons.” Trey argued, feeling embarrassed at compliments that she really didn't deserve, “I mean, sure, there's been some brilliant people in the field over the centuries and it's amazing how people from the 1400s came up with number theories that we're still so dependant on today. But really, I just like numbers. They're straight forward, there's always a right answer and its just a matter of finding it – and finding it can be fun.”
Again, she shrugged, “I don't know if deviod of curiosity is the right phrase. American society has a lot of emphasis on privacy these days; you don't pay attention to other people because it would be rude. So people spend their time daydreaming. Its ingrained into children and becomes automatic when we're adults – showing curiosity can be rude, passionate people are weird, so you just go about your daily lives and keep all your interest in your own head.”
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Post by Ethan Darcy on Aug 13, 2011 2:57:27 GMT -5
On her way to work one morning
Down the path along side the lake
A tender hearted woman
saw a poor half frozen snake [/size][/color][/center]
The urge to run his hand through his hair suddenly raced through Ethan’s being and his hand twitched unconsciously before he caught it and stopped himself. He couldn’t possibly do that, it would look like he was mocking him, and then he would be the guy who stared at a stranger for an unnaturally long amount of time only to walk over and start making fun of him. What sort of person did that? Ethan decided he certainly wasn’t going to be that sort of person. He flexed his hand and then scooped his fingers into a fist, and as he did so caught the humidity in the air and expanded it, allowing it to pool into a small amount of water in his closed fist. An action that grounded him, focused him and stopped him staring inappropriately.
Ethan wondered if it was too late to admit that he had no idea what algebra was. He assumed it was mathematics, but if he was honest he’d only ever heard the word mathematics, he wasn’t truly sure what that was.
Not that Ethan didn’t know numbers, in fact he had quite a flair for adding and memorising numbers which had showed itself as he catalogued some books one day in the library.
“Unless you’re career is being a socialite I’m afraid you’ll find there’s going to be an awful lot of things that will get in the way of your social life” Ethan didn’t know if that was true but he had decided it seemed like a wise thing to say, and usually if you couldn’t think of anything to say but you needed to say something he found the best thing to do was to sound a little cryptic and so knowing that no one would question it. “That’s life” and always end with something punchy.
He managed to avoid giving himself a satisfactory nod of the head, and decided that patting himself on the back would be a little bit too much, so instead he just smiled. When in doubt, smile.
Feeling rather smug with himself Ethan listened waiting for another opportunity to dish out some words of “wisdom”.
“Oh no” he said, “Don’t get me wrong, people are ever so curios when someone crashes a car, or when someone has a heartattack on the street. But no one cares in this place. No one holds open a door, or helps an elderly lady pick up the groceries she’s just dropped. No one is curious about another person without having an ulterior motive” he paused “But then maybe wanting to know is an ulterior motive”
Ethan stopped and realised that his words of wisdom this time weren’t really words of wisdom, but feelings that he actually felt. He flexed his hand, dispersing the water back into the humidity and ran his fingers through his hair, then offered an apologetic smile; “Sorry” he shrugged, realising that he was borderline crazy looking now, ranting and raving about peoples lack of interest, “I guess I get a little carried away” he grinned rakishly and shoved his free hand back into his trouser pocket.
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Post by Trey Wolfe on Aug 18, 2011 19:11:19 GMT -5
Hair straightened again - though it would probably be a mess again before long, Trey focused more of her attention to the man in front of her, just in time to notice a drop of water fall from a loosely-clenched fist. She blinked, looking hard, but no more water pooled at the edges of his knuckles. Huh, maybe it was her imagination playing tricks on her.
"I suppose that's true enough." Trey shrugged, "But there's a certain expected precedence with university students like me. There should be late hours drinking over sport events with hordes of fellows, attending classes the next morning with a hangover and spend lunch calling friends to find the best party for the weekend. Grades, work and social life all pushed to a level of extreme that will never be reached again, because this is the prime of my youth and all that. I seem to have managed to avoid that aspect of university life altogether. That and not being a socialite is no excuse for not really having any friends."
"What for?" Trey asked, "Its fine to get passionate about a subject, so long as you don't get offended whenever someone has a different view." She adjusted her own balance, hands stuffed in her pockets for the moment because the cool breezes were making them feel chilled, "The thing is, you just rather supported my point. Morbid curiousity is never unacceptable so long as other people are doing it. But its not polite to do those other things anymore - a man holding open a door means that he clearly doesn't respect that women are equal to men and he's a chanivist pig. A woman holding a door open for a man is patronising. A man holding a door open for a man is apparently implying the other man more like a woman than a man - all of them will get you verbally assaulted, perhaps punched or slapped in the face. And I don't believe for one minute that people did those things before with no ulterior motive - people wanted to look good. They wanted to be seen as helpful upstarts and patrons of sainthood. The people you're describing from a generation or two ago are absolutely no different to the people today. They might even have been less curious; there wasn't the sense of global community back then, you didn't have the ability to go and find people who felt the same way you did. At least now we can express ourselves on the internet, we can explore ourselves where as fifty years ago only a few dared, and the rest hid it away, denied it their entire lives, and did what was expected."
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Post by Ethan Darcy on Sept 7, 2011 8:30:04 GMT -5
On her way to work one morning
Down the path along side the lake
A tender hearted woman
saw a poor half frozen snake [/size][/color][/center]
Ethan smiled a sort of knowing smile, that soft sort of look that implied age beyond his moderately youthful appearance, “I shouldn’t worry about it too much if I were you” it was almost difficult to tell if he was referring to her hair or her university and friendship statement, “I’m sure there are rather a lot of people your age who feel the same way, they just happen to be better at pretending not to feel the same way” he shrugged, clearly Ethan had firmly decided that mentioning the hair was off the cards completely. Though now he’d spent so much time pondering over it, it was very difficult not to notice it every time the man moved his hand to his head, like when you notice a clock ticking and then that’s all you can seem to hear for a while afterwards.
“Well” Ethan said through an intake of breath as if he was summing up his case, “I'm never one to say no to a little bit of exploration, but I just like manners” he nodded his head slightly, wondering why he was spending such a long amount of time debating the goodliness of society with a stranger and deciding that he should probably be the sensible adult and draw it to a close. He stopped himself from grinning at himself, no other person in New York stopped to start debating with strangers unless they were wearing their underwear inside out and over their pants with metal antennae on their head, and as strange as Ethan was, he wasn’t deranged.
He glanced up at the cloudless sky and smiled, “Well, well, well” he said, looking back at the young man in front of him and wondering if any people who knew him had ever tallied up the amount of times he touched his hair in a day “It looks like it’s going to rain” he said firmly but with a slight surprise in his voice, he hadn’t expected rain today with the sun startlingly crisp that very morning, the air cold but bright, however the air felt heavy, as if it was looking for the right place to leave it’s burden of raindrops.
“The ducks will be pleased” he grinned.
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Post by Trey Wolfe on Oct 13, 2011 17:17:26 GMT -5
“No, I'm pretty sure worrying is a part of the equation, too.” Trey countered, though she did sound distinctly more cheerful now, “Its my life, so if I don't worry about it no one else is going to. Heh, equation, life(m) = experience(m)-squared plus worry(m) plus unknown(x, y, z) minus death(m).” She shrugged at the look he gave her, “Sorry, that was a really bad math joke. My math puns are usually much pun-ier.” Though goodness knew if that meant they were better or not.
“The problem with saying something like 'I like manners' is that its all relative. What's polite in one society is rude in another; each city has their own culture and manners are related to that culture. Its fluid and it's the law made in the court of common majority. Miss Manner's says so, and she's always right about etiquette. I guess we'll have to agree to disagree” Oops, now her femininity was showing. Because knowing that there were even people who made a living writing editorials on manners was the closest to girly she got these days. Oh well, she made up for it by having the last word.
Trey automatically followed his gaze upward, peering at the blue sky and then across a the horizon, where it was equally cloudless, “What makes you say that it's going to rain? There's not a cloud in the sky, and the weather forecast was for sunny all day.” She hoped it didn't rain, she hadn't brought an umbrella, she didn't want to get her or her books wet and displacement meant she left puddles on the ground behind her if she teleported in rainy weather.
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