1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. You say that he can call you whatever he wants to for now. He laughs it off and says that he'll think of something. You actually laugh a bit too (not creepily). After the two of you get done with your involuntary humor spasms you look at each other for a few seconds. It's getting awkward again. Just as you try to break the silence he says he'll be done with his shift in fifteen minutes. He's not asking you to wait but if you want to meet sometime after... Of course you'd be fine with that. Soon after that you an Matt separate to avoid his manager coming over and asking what's wrong. You're still kind of (very) fuzzy on how all this happened. After a moment's consideration you choose to ignore it and go get something to drink. Thankfully the mall is home to a personal favorite of yours. Boom/Bust: Tea/Coffee is a fairly ordinary bubble tea stand aside from its name and stock market themed decor. You remember coming to one of these a lot when you used to frequent the arcade in high school and college but since the game center in the mall closed you hadn't much reason to come. By the time you have your tea it's only five minutes to meeting time. You decide to sit down on a bench and take it easy rather than getting too worked up. It's not often you get second (or even first) chances when meeting with new people. As you watch the people pass by calmly as the seconds tick by just as calmly you notice something. Well, more you are forced to notice something. Your phone is ringing. You pick it up. It's Jeanne. Something about her husband, what you catch is she wants to see you as soon as possible. You hang up. Well, you have a problem now. Should you... [] Wait the last 5 minutes and explain why you're bailing. [] Head on over right now, it could be very important.
You close your eyes too long to call it a blink and too short to call it any kind of mental repose. But it's long enough for you to come to a conclusion. You see him, he's still red in the face. You put down the dress and walk up to him. Uncomfortably up to him. He gets a little redder. You apologize. Redder. You grab him by the hand. Beet red. How old is he? Addendum: How old do you want him to be? Addendum Part 2: How bad does how old you want him to be make you look? You shake his hand awkwardly for a few seconds before he manages to vocalize anything. He asks why? It's because you're awkward. Really awkward. Like, "This is why we can't go places", level awkward. Usually, it's just that you can't talk because you think too much but other times your thoughts slip out and you ramble along like you're doing now and you hope to god someone else will stop you and pretend you didn't say anything because you both know that there's no good in talking a-- He gets it. He's actually laughing a bit right now. You let go of his hand, realizing this is the first time you've held hands with a guy. You ask him if there's anything you can do to make it up to him, like now, later, whenever. He asks your name. You say...
You narrow your eyes, swallow, and (sheepishly) ask him to repeat himself. He smiles and asks if he said something wrong. No, you just didn't hear. You smile (awkwardly) back. He says that the dress you're looking at is too long for you and you'd have to get it tailored. Um... How does he know that? He looks away from you a bit. He's going to "fashion school", the fuck is that? It's a place where you learn how to make clothes. Doesn't that happen in Chinese child labor factories? Well, production does but there's design. Haven't you heard of designers? No. Is that a problem? No. What was he talking about? Your size. You're kinda short and narrow for the thing you picked up. Oh yeah. It's also a good color at least. You look down at the dress and back up to Matt. Are you a boy or a girl? Why did you say that (stupid)? Maybe you can still throw this in his face and run (stupid)? Oh god, he just said something didn't he (stupid)? Can you repeat that? He stares at you. You start to sweat. Still staring. You are sweating profusely. Still staring. You cringe in anticipation. He hand is on his face. You close your eyes. He's sighing. Yeah. He's a guy. You tell him he's a very pretty man. He thanks you. You ask if you should leave. He nods. He looks very embarrassed. You should... [] Leave and go home. [] Stay and try to make it right.
[x] Shank this fool
You sheepishly ask for help with finding some things and maybe an opinion. The sales associate smiles at you and says, "Call me Matt. I'll help you out.", before leading on through the department. She... or he? It's actually hard to tell in that awful baggy shirt that you'd expect to see in an electronics store. Taller than you by a bit, but narrow shouldered, short boring hair, but small delicate features, indeterminate voice, you go on the entire time you're walking and are still unable to come to a conclusion. You both look at a few things together. Looking closer he's pretty young looking too, probably a seasonal worker. You decide it must be a guy. Matt's a guys name. But what about Matilda? How is Matt spelled? Shit, he's talking. What did he say? What do you say? [] Ask him to repeat. [] Ask him if he's a guy. [] Nod along.
[x] Move bitch get out the way
[x] Just walk home man
The only game center in your town is a ways away. You furrow your brow in thought. Getting there and back would... yeah, you'd just end up doing the same thing you did last night, just in public. Okay, next choice. No next choice. You don't do anything, that's why you don't take days off. You look wistfully back at your battlestation. No, it's not good to spend all your time indoors no matter how perfect it is here, no matter how... Okay you're going out. You put on some clothes and head out the door as fast as possible. Once outside you take the first bus you see and ride until you hit the mall stop. First you look at the game store. Closed. Then you look at the book store. Closed. Then you realize why you never come to the mall. There's nothing to buy. As you're sitting (alone) on a bench musing about how to spend the rest of your day a few people pass by. They make some comments about you. They're more rude for mentioning you within earshot than anything else but to hear people presumably younger than you commenting on your appearance with slang you don't know is more than a little irritating. But if nothing else it reminded you of how lacking your closet is in content. Next stop. Clothing retailers. After about 20 minutes in a Duke & Cobbler you feel strangely exhausted. You haven't been walking much and you haven't been thinking much, but damn if you don't feel like you've been doing differential equations in the back of a jazzercise class. You have managed to put together one outfit. It's very you (you think). You almost want to just put it all back and leave. Just as you are weighing the benefits of just leaving it all in a pile somewhere you're approached by a sales associate who asks you if you need any help. You... [] Ask for help. [] Say it's nothing.
When you wake up it's 10AM about 5 hours later than you usually get up. You don't freak out though. You log into your work e-mail and ask Anton what happened at work today. So you don't have friends at work. You have coworkers. But there is one coworker who has had your back. Anton. He's from Plains, Georgia but his father is from Tbilisi, Georgia. You met him on your first day and he had a strange sense of humor from the get go. The first thing he said, "Wow, they really are trying to pretty up the office, Riker." He had to explain the joke later, but it was meant as a compliment (probably). But when you say he has your back. He has your back all the way. You even have each other's work e-mail log ins so you can cover for each other when you want to skip work but don't want to get up. Basically what is happening at this very moment but intentional. You send him an IM asking how he handled it. He sent the standard sorry I'm sick spiel. Good. It's not crunch time or anything so you can get away with a sick day here and there now. You also ask him how he's doing in general. He makes some reference you don't understand. You tell him to never change and say you're probably going to spend the rest of your day finding something to do. He makes a slovenly salute (~_~7) and tells you to please change a lot and he's probably going to spend the rest of his day finding a way to do all your work. Too bad you are coworkers. He'd be a good friend otherwise. You watch an episode of Butler Dragon and then head over to... [] Game Center, play a few games and relive your misspent youth. [] Mall, buy some nicer clothes. [] See who's free for lunch.
Within the next ten minutes you get home, change into your nightwear, turn off all the lights, boot up your battlestation, and begin to lose control of your life. You decide to log into Concord first. Voice channel with your gaming group and text channel with your online only friends. After a bit of idle chatter and a game of Living Ceiling you bounce out of voice claiming you need some sleep before work. Instead you put on a podcast and focus more on the looney toons in the other chat. Nothing super important going down. It makes sense, you're probably one of the least responsible people there (heh). You frown. The activity that is there is a little... well, it's fine. You ignore it and try to change the subject. You start talking about crepes. How can they be so flat but also so fluffy? It's some kind of marvel of confectionary technology. And so tasty, too. Okay, they're talking about pastries and breads now. Sweet Headgear Man has entered the chat. Things are about to get started, it seems. SHM is probably your favorite member of this group. You know basically nothing about him other than that he's an animator and he's always got something funny to say or post. Right now he's raging about something silly like how fat bread and butter make you. It goes on a bit, you're feeling a little better about... everything. The chat has degenerated into posting jizoogle pages. You look down at your clock. It's 4AM. You have lost control of your life. You should... [] Go to sleep and go to work tomorrow. [] Power through and feign illness tomorrow.
Ace Combat 7 has clouds.
You instinctively glance over your shoulder and the question answers itself (in a stupid way). She's afraid of cats (deathly so (yes, cats)). And there's a cavalcade of fucking hipsters being mauled by (presumably) their own cats. You grimace and then compose yourself. You know how to handle this kind of episode (from experience). You stand up (awkwardly) drawing a few stares and you draw a few more once you slam your hands down on the table to grab Roommate's attention. She looks over to you, still a bit teary. You lean in towards her, almost touching her face with yours and shout at her (drawing more stares still). After staring at the center of her face for a few seconds you back off and sigh. She's started to recover a bit. You quickly explain the situation to the staff who come up with questions. They thankfully don't ask you to leave. Finally, you turn back to her and she's smiling away the embarrassment (classic). You wish you could do that. You ask her how she can take a situation like this and just... whatever it is she does. She thinks about it, ruminates, ponders, turns it over and finally answers. You can't. You're too self aware to let the little things go. You're good at other things, like taking people to the airport and holding down a job. You frown. She's trying to be nice (probably). You ask again if she has any real advice. She thinks about it, boards the train of thought, enters the memory palace, tosses the bones about and finally answers. She might not be the right one to ask. She looks off to the side. She's been a little less than honest with you in some of your recent conversations. You narrow your eyes and eat more food. She frowns and explains. She's still working and all but she's not really doing too well otherwise. Oh? She's kind of homeless. What? Just until she can get moved into the new place tomorrow. Okay. And her mom has cancer. Damn. So she's been avoiding her parents instead of trying to stay with them. Why? It'd cause more trouble. So what's her boyfriend, er... name? been doing? They split a month ago. You wonder how this is supposed to be related to your question but ultimately you don't say anything. You instead ask if that's why she wanted to hang out. It was. She felt like having someone who wouldn't be able to gossip about it would be best to commiserate with. After a few more minutes of this kind of heavier talk you feel less worried about your life at least. You part ways with Roommate and try to share something encouraging but you're pretty sure you sound more like you're making a joke. Whatever. Now you should head home and... [] Sleep. [] Browse the web. [] Get on Concord chat.
Roommate is a force of personality. You may be a boring person but you ended up doing a lot of tree climbing, club hopping, night driving, and general stereotypical youthful shenaniganry when the two of you went out. It's kind of a wonder you two got a long at all given how much trouble she caused you. But right now, you're just glad that you do at all. So you follow her just like old times. Within a few minutes you're sitting in a well lit dining area waiting for food. It's funny. You never expected your day to end sitting around a bunch of parents with their kids who you'd normally think had no business being out and about at this time of night. But here you are, sitting around a bunch of parents with their kids who you'd normally think had no business being out and about at this time of night. You've been talking about the same old stuff for some time now. Agatha is complaining about work. You're complaining about work. You both work in tech. You both don't want to work in tech. You both come to the same conclusion as the last time you talked. Give up on your dreams and find something to help you ignore the empty unfulfilling nature of your lives. Speaking of distractions. The food's here. You don't talk much more while you eat. Despite Roommate being the only one who will hang out with you, despite the fact that you get along, you still have nothing in common and you still can't talk about anything else that you haven't covered time and again. Just as you're musing over a spoonful of rice you hear something kind of disconcerting from across the table. Agatha is looking past you at something and it's clearly upsetting her. She's making a face (a crying one). You're not good with this kind of situation... [] Look behind you and ask what the problem is. [] Move your head in the way of her line of sight and try to be comforting. [] Pretend you don't notice it and change the topic.
You're almost there. Just a few more inches. She's still not looking your way. Come on. Come on. Come-- oh, shit. She's looking at you. You blink. Still there. You blink again. Still, still there. You greet her. She blinks at you. Still there. She blinks again. Still, still there. You point to the purse and say you saw it got stuck there. She nods slowly and invites you into your own home. You obviously oblige. Moments later you're facing her from across your dining table awkwardly. You both kinda try to laugh it off but it's not working. You sigh (resignedly). You look her dead in the eye for about two seconds before it gets awkward again. Then you tell her how your day went. You tell her how you got up in the morning (late) and got chewed out at work. You tell her how you had to juggle staying late and planning your own birthday party. Then you had to skip lunch. Then your boss left you to finish his work. Then you had to buy your own birthday cake. Then no one showed up. Then one person said they'd show up but you'd already made an excuse to seem less pathetic and then you tried to-- She gets it. She says she's still down to hang and talk only the maddest of shit about everyone. She sounds sincere enough. She stands up and motions for the door. You... [] nod and head down to the restaurant before it closes. [] shake your head, it's okay to stay here and eat more cake.
I'll help if I can.
You feel your brain starting to overheat (metaphorically) as a simple thing has become some kind of monstrous hurdle. You're too old for this. You see a homeless person eyeing you. With a reserve of self restraint you didn't know you had you don't flip him the bird. You don't have much time to resolve this (probably), so you have to handle this quickly regardless of how annoying it'll be. You frown (in thought). Deep breath. Exhale. You look up at your purse, taunting you with its presence. You look back to the homeless guy, taunting you, with his gestures, now that he sees your purse. Okay, you're not gonna let this fucker get his grubby mitts on any property of yours. No sir, no way, no how. You start climbing back up despite his now audible jeers. Fuck that guy. Fuck this ladder. Fuck your friends. Fuck that's higher than it felt a minute ago. You reach up to grab your purse only to see Agatha sticking her head out the window. You stay stalk still fingers touching the leather of your purse strap. She turns... [] Your way. Say, "Hi." [] Away. Stay still.
You're dressed (hastily) and you decided (more hastily) to handle this like in your cartoons and climb out the window. After collecting yourself and your purse you poke your head out of your window (breezy). It's a straight shot down about... 50 feet. Okay. Look left (nothing). Look right (ladder (jackpot)). Since you got a job you haven't done any physical activity more strenuous than sitting in a less than ergonomic chair so it's looking a little iffy for a moment. Then you hear the door in the next room unlocking. The next thing you know, you're hanging from your window sill. From there it's a blur all the way down. Not because you fell. No, that'd be a real problem. But because you were so hopped up on adrenaline you had no idea how you were doing something as coordination intensive as climbing down a ladder. Either way you're safe and sound. You feel a surge of confidence in your ability to escape burning buildings as long as those buildings are this exact building and you have fair warning. You have to be quick. You reach for a compact mirror to make sure you don't look too haggard from your experience when you realize something. In your excitement (dread) you managed to forget something (your purse) up at the top of the ladder (just dangling there). This is a pretty big problem because you keep your phone, keys, and everything in there. You know the doorman and you know Agatha has trouble with actually locking doors so you should be able to bluff that. However, she's going to call or text you at some point in the next 5-10 minutes. This is demonstrably true (many times). The solution is... [] Climb back up and snag it before anyone can steal it. [] Run back up before Agatha can notice. [] Cry.
You spend a few minutes packaging up the cake and plates and so on. It takes a little longer than it should but you can never be too neat with packaging. What now? Your eyes travel from the table (now barren) to your desk (and computer) to your closet. Thoughts crowd your mind more with each visual jaunt. You have some episodes to catch up on legally downloaded from a reputable site (wink wink). Then there's your unopened box sets that just arrived sitting on your bed. Ultimately, your battlestation remains silent and devoid of chinese cartoons, you do have a problem with losing track of time after all. So to pass the time you take a look into your wardrobe (metaphorical) and try to find something a little less buttoned up to wear. You frown a little. You mostly own work attire. In the corner not dedicated to khakis and suits you find a few sweaters, an outfit for outings, and some generic hoodies. It dances across your mind that you might want to make yourself not look pathetic. Then it dances out of your mind. You go for the easiest to wear things you can find. A blue sweater and some jeans. As you're changing, you hear an unfortunate sound. *ring* *ring* You pick it up immediately this time (half dressed). It's Agatha again. She's here. Here, here. Like at your building, coming up with her spare key, to wait for you to show up because that's the polite thing to do (not really). But you're here and she's here so you can't come here without leaving here. But if you leave here she'll see you were here when you said you were not here. And if she sees that... well, there's your problem. After telling her you'll be around soon you finish dressing and.... [] Climb out the window. [] Hide with the neighbors. [] Wait right here.
You're free now. She seems a little taken aback (correct response). You truck through though and even tell her that you've neglected eating a proper supper. She laughs (with you) and says she just got off work and as such is in the same situation (not really). You're on your way back from your parents place (from her view) so you give her about half an hour before you're 'home'. She mentions the time. Oh right, the time. You consider this for a moment. Turning it over in your head like a stone in a stone polishing device... a rock tumbler (not a class with ice). Then it hits you. Midnight Kabob. You used to go there a lot right after college (what a time), it's always open and it's always good. Agatha actually used to go with you a lot then, too. She makes note of this as well and agrees to meet you there. You hang up (after farewells). You're not used to hanging out late anymore but to probably talk the maddest shit about your other friends for flaking on you, you're down to clown. Midnight Kabob is right down the street from your apartment so you have about 45 minutes before you're expected. You have time to put away the cake and stuff and... [] Change out of your work clothes. [] Watch some damn anime. [] Channel surf. [] Just go to the place already.
