Title: Lovely Evening
Description: --Open
Romax - July 11, 2007 06:09 AM (GMT)
Are the stars out tonight?
Can't tell if it's cloudy or bright...
'Cause I only have eyes for you!
Staring up at the slightly cloudy, mostly clear, sky and its uncountable number of bright, white stars, those lyrics circled around JJ's mind. She wasn't even sure if they were right. They were just there, those three lines, repeating over and over again. Sometimes her lips would move, soundlessly singing along.
Mostly, though, she just gazed.
She'd snuck out. It hadn't taken much sneakiness. Her father and soon-to-be stepmother were out. They were going to get married soon. As soon as possible, Anna had said. No big, fancy wedding. Something small and dignified and... what was the word Dad had used? Intimate. That was it. Small, dignified, and intimate. A few friends, lots of disposable cameras for snapshots. Was that what they were doing? Buying cameras? Didn't matter, they were out.
Nick hadn't been interested tonight. Thank God for small favors, right? Dylan had gone to bed early—so he said. He was probably playing with the new football game she'd bought him. So she’d studied for a couple of hours in the peace. But her room, her house, had felt too small. Felt like the walls were closing in around her. Hence the sneaking out.
So here she was. At the park. She was lying on her back on a low stone bench, cool from the evening air. Her legs, clad in faded blue jeans, were stretched out before her and crossed at the ankle; her fingers laced over her stomach.
The thought occurred to her that if there were any mad axe murderers running about, she was a prime target. Even as she laughed at herself at the thought, she angled her chin up, exposing her neck just a little bit more to the night sky. Go ahead, she invited silently, take a good clean whack. She could almost see her head go bouncing off onto the ground, her eyes big and round, her mouth open a little.
The white moonlight lit up the purple and yellow bruises encircling the pale column of her throat.
“If I lay here... If I just lay here, would you lie with me and just forget the world?”
OOC: Just so whoever might reply knows, JJ might be a bit suicidal, but I don't really want her to die, so... no mad axe murderers, if you please... :heh:
Nafretiri - July 11, 2007 10:05 PM (GMT)
He wasn’t a startling harbinger of fashion. Never had been, and had never really cared. Tonight, it was faded jeans, and a large brown sweater with a navy blue coat draped over it. The evening was mild, and any normal person might have been hot, but not Emilian. His vampiric nature had stopped that sort of feeling a long time ago. His emotional baggage was the equivalent of a bag of ice in each hand – it did nothing to keep him warm either.
Not that he was particularly moody tonight. No, he was actually having a rather nice day. He had gotten a job as a night janitor, starting tomorrow. It was an easy job, with decent pay. What it really offered was a chance to make some money. Then he’d either move on, or find another job. Emilian didn’t like to stay anywhere for too long.
But the night was nice enough, and it had been a long time since he’d just gone for a walk. The faintest quiver of a smile twitched the edges of his lips, and hazel eyes turned upward were hazed over with the look of one who spends more time in dreams than in reality. Reality was harsh. Too fast. Too loud. Too brutal. Emilian preferred his own company.
Walking down the path and letting out a deep – and deliberate – breath, he felt some of the shackles that had bound him let him free for the evening. There were old men out there, old and frail who had shed these same shackles long ago. It was only Emilian who seemed to be unable to do it, with his same face looking back at him night after night.
Had he not blinked then, had he not snapped out of whatever stupor had overtaken him, he would not have seen the girl sitting on the bench. He blinked once more, slowly, and just stood there, trying to weigh his options.
“Excuse me miss?” his voice was soft, the words tapped with a Polish accent. “Are you all right?”
Romax - July 12, 2007 01:05 AM (GMT)
With the lyrics of Chasing Cars by Snow Patrol now providing the background to her thoughts, JJ felt those thoughts drift back to beheading. She'd read, somewhere, that you sometimes were still alive right after your head was chopped off. That Marie Antoinette would actually have been able to feel her head falling into the basket.
How they knew that, she had no idea.
But it was an interesting thought. If any mad axe murderers came and cut her head off, the last thing she'd see would be that big, black sky. Not such a bad sight to die looking at, really. JJ was in one of her moods. It wasn't a bad mood or a good mood. More like an accepting mood.
A voice intruded on her musings, soft, with an accent she couldn't begin to place. Calmly, she craned her neck to look up at the man who had spoken, her body still relaxed as she remained lying on the bench. Her first thought on laying eyes on the speaker was that somebody needed to buy him a cheeseburger.
He was very thin.
"Dandy. Were you wanting to sit?" she asked, still oddly calm for a young girl facing a strange man.
Nafretiri - July 12, 2007 01:38 AM (GMT)
It had been a long time since Emilian had been a father, and, admittedly, he’d never been father to a teenager. More importantly, he’d never been any sort of a father to this girl in front of him. That being said, he should have walked away. He did it often enough that it shouldn’t have made that big a difference. Just set those feet to moving, watch what was previously in front of you get farther and farther behind.
That’s not what Emilian did.
What he did was stand there, shoving his hands in his pockets and looking back and forth down the path, as if waiting for someone to come and claim their wayward child. Unfortunately for him, there was nobody besides the two of them at this hour, so he was left looking like someone that would begin hopping back and forth on his feet on a moment’s notice.
And, truthfully, having been a father, but not of a teenager, and certainly not of this girl, he wasn’t sure what to do. Did children of this age run around late at night? He couldn’t tell you. Emilian didn’t get out much. He didn’t watch movies. He occasionally read books, but usually he simply listened to music. What were you supposed to do when you found someone’s child, laying on the bench, and speaking to strangers?
He didn’t know. So he asked.
“Aren’t you supposed to be at home at this hour?” Then, “No, no. I don’t want to inconvenience you.”
It was glaringly apparent that he was rusty where children – especially someone else’s children – were involved.
Romax - July 12, 2007 01:48 AM (GMT)
JJ couldn't help it. She smiled a little at his apparent discomfort. It wasn't that she found the discomfort of others funny, exactly, just his. It was partly because his reaction made her quite certain that he was not a mad axe murderer (and she wondered if she was actually disappointed by that). It was also partly because he just looked funny, sticking his hands in his pockets like there was no other safe place to stick them.
When he glanced up and down the path, she wondered if he was checking out his escape routes or hoping somebody else would come along and deal with her. Or maybe a little bit of both.
As he struggled against what seemed to be the urge to shuffle his feet, JJ had the sudden desire to give him a pat on the head. He had the thin, slightly dreamy look of a saggy-eyed houndog.
Deliberately, she forced her face into a slightly more serious expression as he spoke. "Probably. It's a big, bad world, right? I guess I'm being rebellious." So saying, she laced her fingers behind her head, looking more like she was relaxing on a beach than hanging out in a park in the middle of the night.
Very rebellious.
"So, what about you? Aren't adults supposed to be all responsible and in bed at this hour too?" She was teasing him, but it was hard to tell from the serious way she spoke.
Nafretiri - July 12, 2007 04:11 AM (GMT)
She wouldn’t have been too far off on the pockets assumption. Emilian was one of those people who constantly needed to be doing something with his hands. That meant that when he was standing around, doing more or less nothing, he had to find something to do with them so that they didn’t fidget. When he had pockets, that’s where he put them. When he didn’t, he simply folded his arms and tried to look nonchalant.
But the girl smiled at him, and, despite himself and his anxiety over his lack of knowledge in this area, he found himself giving a small smile back. It wasn’t happy per se, but it was soft – the look of someone who remembered smiling with fondness.
Like a mirror, though, when her expression became serious, so too did his. “It is a big, bad world,” he agreed solemnly. Emilian thought about it for a moment, hesitating to speak for fear he’d cross some line. Finally he said, “You should be at home. It would be a shame for something to happen to you. If it were my daughter, I’d want her to be safe in bed.”
He shook his head. “Only those that work during the day. I only just got off work.” Which was true enough. There were certain allergies that the girl didn’t have to know about. “Besides, I was never that responsible to begin with, I think.”
Making a move like he was going to extend his hand for a handshake, he thought the better of it. “My name is Emilian Kircher. I walk this way to get home.”
Part of him felt the need to explain his presence, you see.
Romax - July 15, 2007 04:25 AM (GMT)
"Oh, certainly." JJ agreed as the man confirmed that the world was a large and not entirely good place. She'd known that already, of course, as she wasn't a completely innocent fourteen year-old.
He had a sweet smile.
The thought struck her as she watched it come and go across his pale, narrow face. Sure, he wasn't going to set the modeling world on its ear or anything, but he had a nice smile. Kind of uncertain and kind of small, but she was sorry to see it go.
As he spoke again, though, JJ let out a half-laugh. It was quiet, but the defeated bitterness rang loud enough. "My bed isn't safe," she commented, her dark blue eyes studying the night sky again. Realizing how that sounded, the bruise-colored gaze twitched back to him. "But thanks."
"Ah, but you look like the responsible sort." JJ replied with a small smile. Then again, how did you define responsible appearances?
When he said his name, she offered her first glimpse of childishness; she wrinkled her nose a little, remarking, "That's a funny name." But she smiled, finally rousing herself to move from her stretched-out position to a sitting one. Solemnly, she offered a hand and, "I'm Alice Jane. But most everybody calls me JJ."
Nafretiri - July 16, 2007 07:21 AM (GMT)
As previously mentioned, Emilian wasn’t quite sure what kids these days did and didn’t know, so he tried to cover all the bases when he encountered them. Tried not to assume they knew something, and tired not to assume they knew nothing. It was a delicate line to walk and it gave him a headache.
He recognized the bitterness in her laugh, and it struck a cord. How long had he been carrying it around in the battered suitcase that was his memory? Too long probably, but its weight was comforting. It was familiar when the world was changing around him. To hear it from the mouth from a young girl made him frown even harder, and had he been human, he would have worried about getting wrinkles and looking like his father.
There had to be something to say to a statement like that, but Emilian had missed the class. His awkward shuffling stopped, though, and he looked at her – but not like he was seeing her. He looked at her like he was looking through her and into the bench.
Then the moment passed, and there he was looking almost sheepish again. “Do I? I hardly feel responsible most days.” That small smile peeked out again. He took her hand and shook it. “It’s nice to meet you Alice Jane. And I suppose my name is funny. It’s Roma.”
Romax - July 20, 2007 05:16 AM (GMT)
As kids these days went, well, most of them knew too much. Had seen too much, heard too much, or experienced too much. JJ was one of them and it had aged her. Not aged her in a Hollywood, spout wise words and knowing sayings way but in the way where she could lie on park benches in the middle of the night and talk to strange men without being afraid.
Overly.
After all, the lack of fear didn’t mean a surplus of bravery or stupidity. She wasn’t so dumb as to believe that she was clever enough to outwit anyone who meant to harm her, arrogant enough to believe she was strong enough to fight them off, and certainly not naïve enough to think no one would want to. She was fourteen years-old, sure, but well-acquainted with the nastier aspects of the world.
Her dark blue, nearly navy, eyes watched Emilian curiously as he contained his fidgeting. And JJ was not so detached as to not be unnerved by the way his eyes suddenly seemed to look through her. Like she was just a pale reflection and had flickered out for a moment. She was glad when the look vanished, to be replaced by that other look. The sheepish one and the small smile.
His hand was cool as it clasped hers and she smiled slightly in return. “Not stuffy with responsibility,” she assured him, glancing up at the sky, which had been mostly clear only a few minutes ago, as a drop of rain fell on their hands. Now the clouds had increased, threatening to blot out the moon. Her attention returned to Emilian. “Roma? Like, Romanian?”
Nafretiri - August 13, 2007 03:56 AM (GMT)
Ah yes. There were some that sought to seek every experience upon this planet, to relish the pain and the glory. Emilian was not one of them. Having had his fill of experiences, good and bad, he took to hiding out, shielding himself from more of the same. Or even more that weren’t the same. It made him somewhat of a loner, and it made him somewhat pessimistic. But, in the end, it did save him some hurt. What he didn’t want to admit was that it probably kept some goodness away from him as well.
The nastier aspects of the world, was it? Well, had Emilian been able to read minds (or had he at least known how) he might have refuted that part. The nastier aspects of the world were something that… It wasn’t easy to experience them.
He laughed slightly. “Thank you. Being stuffy is a constant worry of mine.” Not really. Then he sighed slightly, and reclaimed his hand, stuffing it into his pocket. “No, not like Romanian. Romani. Gypsy.” He struggled to keep his dislike for the last term under his soft, almost dreamy smile.
It would have served him right had he been Romanian. Would have been terribly ironic.
Romax - August 18, 2007 09:37 PM (GMT)
If she could have heard Emilian's thoughts, JJ probably would have given a little start. A little surprised, a little sad. They seemed to have a bit in common, the unlikely duo did. Hiding from the world and all the pain it caused. Pessimistic of them one might think, but JJ would disagree. Maybe they missed out on the good stuff, but, in her experience, there was so much more pain than joy.
But she couldn't hear his thoughts. So she tipped her head to the side a little as he laughed, unreasonably pleased by the small sound. It was comforting, after all, to hear someone laugh. Even—no, especially—this Sad-Eyed Sam. He let his hand fall from hers and it burrowed back into the shelter of his pocket. Rather than copy the movement, she let her hands hang by her sides, empty.
It was odd, though pleasant, that she didn't feel the jittery desire to hide them away as he did or worry something between her fingers.
“Well of course. Being stuffy should be a constant fear of everyone's,” JJ informed him somberly, her dark blue eyes catching the stray gleam of a lamplight. She smiled as she said it, so as to let him know she was joking. Her jokes were like that, when she made them.
Then her eyebrow quirked, just a little. Interestedly, she asked, “Gypsy? Really?” with surprising enthusiasm. She'd never met a Gypsy before, or even reached them in History class yet. Mostly, she associated Gypsies with dancing goats and singing gargoyles. “Were you born... Romani? Or is it just a name?” Partway through her question, the slumbering clouds woke up and began dropping prodigious amounts of rain on the two.
“It's raining, by the way,” JJ told Emilian, rather unnecessarily.
