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Post by EMMELINE EVANS on Nov 8, 2013 10:55:23 GMT -8
| rabbit - hearted I look around, but I can't find you If only I could see your face Instead of rushing towards the skyline I wish that I could just be brave I must become a lion hearted girl Ready for a fight Before I make the final sacrifice We raise it up, this offering We raise it up This is a gift, it comes with a price Who is the lamb and who is the knife? Midas is king and he holds me so tight And turns me to gold in the sunlight And in the spring I shed my skin And it blows away with the changing wind The waters turn from blue to red As --- Emmeline’s heart suddenly went out to the big guy. He wouldn’t ever get any of his memories back. She had thought for a brief moment that they’d come in pieces, imagined him doing something that suddenly reminded him of his childhood, like what happens in TV and touchy-feely Anime. However, that little sentence had totally thrown that out the window. It wasn’t just temporary, it was complete and irreversible. She couldn’t imagine how he felt.
Somehow, though, she was pretty sure the doctors hadn’t actually called it “total amnesia” because she’d just made that up.
She wasn’t going to point that out though.
Not when he could break her just by looking at her.
“Must’a been a pretty bad accident. . . . Was it just your head that got hurt—well I mean besides your, um, face too—I mean because of the scar,” she quickly corrected, afraid he’d think she meant that he was ugly. That was also a very hard thing to distinguish with her condition. At least no one would be able to say that she only loved someone because of their looks. “Mine—well mine was. . . not quite an accident.”
Just thinking about the whole ordeal made her heart beat uncomfortably in her chest. What would he even think of her if she told him? But the words were already coming out of her mouth. “I—I got dragged to this party a few years back and—I had a little too much and—and that’s why.” Eh good enough. He could probably figure out the rest of it.
For some reason talking to him was a little easier than normal people. If she’d thought about it, Emmeline would guess that it was because they were almost—kind of, sort of—kindred spirits. Besides, he looked like he’d seem some stuff and done some things, so she didn’t feel like he’d judge her too bad.
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Post by DARRIN "MOOSE" MOORE on Nov 8, 2013 12:02:59 GMT -8
It had been a very bad accident, or so they'd told him. He didn't remember anything. He knew only what they'd told him, and they'd told him relatively little. It didn't matter the details of the accident that had taken his memory--it was in the past, and when he'd asked about it, it was already a few years in the past. No one had bothered to dig up all the details, and Moose was left with only a vague sense of what had happened. Something with his car.
He gave a little shrug. "Everything, more or less. They said I was all busted up inside. Got a few scars elsewhere, the face is just the obvious ones." The face was also more delicate when it came to fixing scars. Even Moose could figure that out, and the size of the scar across the bridge of his nose made removing it damn near impossible. It probably would have been expensive--not the sort of thing that came with general prison healthcare.
While Emmeline was certainly confiding something secret and personal to him, Moose really didn't get it. To him, there was no correlation between brain damage and alcohol, let alone alcohol and parties. He didn't know what 'having a little bit too much' was. Euphemisms only worked if you were dealing with someone who had a general idea of what you were talking about, and Moose really didn't. Something had happened at a party, that much he got--but beyond that, he knew nothing.
He nodded anyway, as if he understood what the heck she was talking about. He didn't, but most people probably wouldn't be able to guess. Moose gave off the impression that he knew things--things about drugs and booze and gangs and crime, and while he certainly knew some of that stuff, other areas he was completely in the dark. He knew what drinking was, and alcohol, and how it messed you up, but he knew little of the long term consequences, or it's association with parties.
EMMELINE EVANS | MAY 14TH, 8 PM |
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Post by EMMELINE EVANS on Nov 8, 2013 12:46:16 GMT -8
| rabbit - hearted I look around, but I can't find you If only I could see your face Instead of rushing towards the skyline I wish that I could just be brave I must become a lion hearted girl Ready for a fight Before I make the final sacrifice We raise it up, this offering We raise it up This is a gift, it comes with a price Who is the lamb and who is the knife? Midas is king and he holds me so tight And turns me to gold in the sunlight And in the spring I shed my skin And it blows away with the changing wind The waters turn from blue to red As --- Her grip tightened slightly on his shirt. She was kind of in the same boat—she’d had so much to eat that the whole night was just a big fuzzy blur. Emmeline didn’t even remember the drive to the party let alone anything during the party. The last thing she remembered was waking up in the hospital surrounded by a bunch of strangers that later turned out to be her family.
She lowered her head slightly, out of shame. “I shouldn’t have ever been there. I was like. . . fourteen or something. . . . But all the ‘cool’ kids were gonna be there. There was a lot of drinking. I don’t—don’t remember much of it. Too much. . . alcohol. One other girl from my class was hospitalized, too, but I don’t think—I don’t think she had any permanent damage.”
Emmeline trailed off quietly, then sighed. “I guess I was just unlucky. Or drank even more than she did.”
Her house loomed ahead, and Emmeline regarded it carefully. The lights were off, and there were no cars in the driveway, so just as she’d assumed, no one was home. If her brother didn’t get home soon she’d have to make up some story so he wouldn’t get in trouble for leaving her alone.
“This—this is it,” she said, pointing. It looked just like the rest. Maybe a different style roof, different layout, but it was the same concept as the neighboring houses. “It doesn’t look like anyone is home—um, did you—did you want to come in for a bit? Get—get something to drink or. . . something? Since—I made you walk—all the way out here?”
Mostly she was trying to be polite, but she also had a slightly more selfish reasoning—she didn’t want to be alone. If she was alone, she’d likely go into some sort of hysterics.
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Post by DARRIN "MOOSE" MOORE on Nov 8, 2013 15:51:05 GMT -8
Moose was slowly collecting the very confusing and scattered pices of what had happened that ninght to Emmie. It was a bit like putting together a puzzle with half the pieces missing when you had no idea what it was supposed to look like, and while most people would have figured it out earlier in the conversation, Moose was still grasping at straws. She'd been at a party--she'd... what, drank too much? And then the memory thing. Any detail beyond that was totally lost on him. All things considered, the situation was fine with that. It wasn't as if he was going to have to explain it to anyone, nor was anyone going to quiz him on it. If he went through the rest of the night without figuring out exactly what he was talking about, he'd manage just fine.
The homes all looked the same to him, and if he had any nefarious designs, Emmie would have been safe from them--if he came back later, he wouldn't have been able to pick out which one she was in. He didn't have any such nefarious designs, but it was worth noting just how confused he was. He didn't have any experience in the suburbs, as they were, and he could only glance around, wondering if anyone else was home in the other houses.
He wasn't expecting the offer, and he hesitated. He was hungry, and he really needed to take a piss. It was going to take a good bit to get back to Oskenonton's place, and he wasn't eager to start back immediately, so he hesitantly nodded. "Wouldn't mind some water." Or food. Or anything.
EMMELINE EVANS | MAY 14TH, 8 PM |
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Post by EMMELINE EVANS on Nov 10, 2013 15:17:55 GMT -8
| rabbit - hearted I look around, but I can't find you If only I could see your face Instead of rushing towards the skyline I wish that I could just be brave I must become a lion hearted girl Ready for a fight Before I make the final sacrifice We raise it up, this offering We raise it up This is a gift, it comes with a price Who is the lamb and who is the knife? Midas is king and he holds me so tight And turns me to gold in the sunlight And in the spring I shed my skin And it blows away with the changing wind The waters turn from blue to red As --- Emmeline smiled and nodded, glad that she was going to have some company, if only for a little while. Hopefully she’d be able to let him go before her parents or brother got home: she wasn’t sure how she was going to explain some big guy spending alone time with their precious daughter while no one was home. The last thing she wanted was to thank him by making him get drilled by her father.
She finally let go of his shirt long enough to bound ahead of him toward the front door. Her key was pulled out of her pocket on the way, and she held the door open while she waited for him to catch up, then made the sure the door was shut tight behind him.
At least they didn't have a dog. Emmeline could just imagine bringing this guy home if they had a family dog. All kinds of barking. . . or maybe he'd be so scary that he would just scare the dog into silence.
“Um, kitchen’s over there, and, um, the bathroom if you need it is—upstairs, first one on your. . . um. . . right? Yeah—yeah, right,” she explained, making sure that she covered all of her bases so she was being a good host. She was going to be a regular Susan Home Maker for at least the next half hour—or less, it just depended really. “Do you want—um, just water, or—I could warm up some—um, left over casserole we have?”
Though she couldn’t offer him much else, she wanted to at least offer him something for being so nice and walking her home. She stood at the entrance to her kitchen, waiting for his reply, though she was still nervous—what if someone came home?
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Post by DARRIN "MOOSE" MOORE on Nov 10, 2013 20:32:50 GMT -8
Moose wasn't thinking about what would happen if her family came in. If he'd thought about it, he'd probably have decided against coming in at all. It was the sort of really horrible and terrible situation that could end very, very badly for him. If her father walked in, there was really no possible explanation he could give that would calm the situation. Moose was well aware of what people thought of him, and if they walked in on him and someone small like Emmeline...
Well, it would mean the worst, even if she vouched for him.
But he wasn't thinking of such things. They simply hadn't occurred to him, and he glanced around the home as he entered. He had no real experience with what a middle class family home was supposed to look like, but what he saw seemed nice. It seemed... homey. Like you could just settle down and everything would be fine. Had Oskenonton grown up in a house like this? He honestly didn't know, and he had to wonder if one day he'd have a home like that.
"I guess some leftovers would be nice." He was a bit hungry. He wasn't starving, but he was almost always hungry, a side effect of his large size. "Gotta take a leak." He added, heading the way she'd directed to find the bathroom, leaving her behind.
EMMELINE EVANS | MAY 14TH, 8 PM |
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Post by EMMELINE EVANS on Nov 12, 2013 12:46:03 GMT -8
| rabbit - hearted I look around, but I can't find you If only I could see your face Instead of rushing towards the skyline I wish that I could just be brave I must become a lion hearted girl Ready for a fight Before I make the final sacrifice We raise it up, this offering We raise it up This is a gift, it comes with a price Who is the lamb and who is the knife? Midas is king and he holds me so tight And turns me to gold in the sunlight And in the spring I shed my skin And it blows away with the changing wind The waters turn from blue to red As --- Leftovers! He said he’d take some leftovers. Emmeline nodded and kept a close eye to make sure he went in the right direction to find the bathroom, then scurried into the kitchen. She wasn’t sure what had gotten into her, but she was a little wound up—probably because she’d invited a practical stranger inside while no one else was home. She was taking a big risk, so she was running with nervous energy.
The fridge was huge, with two side-by-side doors. She opened the one for the cold side—not frozen—and pulled a big ceramic casserole dish. It was about half gone, but that didn’t matter. If they asked, she’d just say she had some to eat when she got home.
She pulled a clean plate out of the dishwasher and made a mental note to put those away later tomorrow or something—since she stayed at home all the time it was her job to do most of the chores. Emmeline stared at the casserole for a few seconds, trying to decide how much she was going to give him. He was a big guy, so she settled on giving him a big corner piece. She served it up, then started the nuking process in the microwave.
Well, she’d just tell them she had a big piece.
That would at least make her mom happy.
Emmeline filled two glasses of water and then sat down at the table, setting Moose’s glass next to her. Though, it was a square table so next to her was actually on a different side of the table. Only four people lived in the house, so they didn’t need a huge table. They could always add another section into it, though, if they had guests over. The leftovers still needed a little bit of time.
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Post by DARRIN "MOOSE" MOORE on Nov 12, 2013 16:52:06 GMT -8
Moose was quickly discovering that even the bathrooms felt fancy to him. He was used to featureless cement and utilitarian fixtures. You didn't decorate in prison--if you did, it got torn up and vandalized, much to Moose's annoyance. Anything pretty or good found itself torn down, destroyed beyond recognition. So no one bothered to decorate. There weren't little embroidered towels, weren't any pictures on the wall. He had a very limited understanding, let alone appreciation for art, but he still found himself looking at things as he did his business.
Maybe he'd grown up in a house like that. There was no way for him to know, no way to tell. Maybe he'd had a good childhood, with loving parents who had simply passed away before he went to prison. Sometimes, when he'd still been in prison, he'd thought up reasons like that. Reasons why his parents would leave him there, why no one from his family would ever try and contact him. It was a sad state of affairs--even in the best versions of his imaginary childhood, he was still a useless fuckup, but his parents had simply passed away peacefully before they got to see it.
The versions where his family was still alive were less pleasant. If he had any family still alive, it meant they'd cut him off for one reason or another. It meant they cared so little for where he was or what he was doing that they never even wrote him a letter, let alone visited him.
It had been a long and lonely time in prison, and by the time Moose had gotten out, he'd pushed those memories aside. Either they were dead, or they might as well have been, but he still found himself thinking on it when he was surrounded by a family home.
He finished his business and emerged a bit later, even going so far as to wash his hands. You were supposed to do that, weren't you? He scooted out, hands mostly dried as he glanced around, finding Emmeline easily. "Hope I'm not being a bother."
EMMELINE EVANS | MAY 14TH, 8 PM |
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Post by EMMELINE EVANS on Nov 18, 2013 11:26:05 GMT -8
| rabbit - hearted I look around, but I can't find you If only I could see your face Instead of rushing towards the skyline I wish that I could just be brave I must become a lion hearted girl Ready for a fight Before I make the final sacrifice We raise it up, this offering We raise it up This is a gift, it comes with a price Who is the lamb and who is the knife? Midas is king and he holds me so tight And turns me to gold in the sunlight And in the spring I shed my skin And it blows away with the changing wind The waters turn from blue to red As --- Emmeline glanced up as Moose walked into the kitchen and her heart fluttered slightly—yup she could still tell it was Moose. It brought the most embarrassing smile to her face and she hid it behind her glass of water, taking a few sips. She shook her head and set the glass back down. “No—no bother at all. It’s—it’s the least I could do,” she assured him.
The microwave beeped and Emmeline practically leapt from her chair in surprise. She was wound tighter than a spring, aware that every minute they spent here was another minute closer to someone coming home and discovering this debacle.
Her shoes thumped the tile as she half-jogged toward the microwave. She pulled the plate out, wincing at the heat coming off of the ceramic. Emmeline put it down a little too hard as her fingers started to burn, then fetched a fork and stirred up the casserole. “It’s green bean casserole. I hope that’s okay,” she elaborated, glancing over her shoulder.
Without waiting for the plate to cool down, she carried it over to the table and set it down for Moose—again, a little too hard—then sat back down in her seat and nursed her half-burned fingers. “If it’s not warmed up all the way I can put it back in the microwave for a little bit longer,” she offered, leaning back in her seat and putting her hands on her lap. She wanted to urge him to eat fast, but that was terribly rude. She was worrying about nothing—who knew how late her parents were going to be.
But that didn’t keep her from glancing at the clock on the microwave every few moments.
Small talk. Make small talk. But wait—what if he preferred it to be quiet when he ate? And what would she talk about? Emmeline looked around, trying to come up with something. “What—what were you doing—I mean. . . when you. . . found me? I hope—I hope I didn’t interrupt. . . anything,” she murmured apologetically, keeping her gaze on the table somewhere by Moose’s plate of food.
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Post by DARRIN "MOOSE" MOORE on Nov 18, 2013 12:37:45 GMT -8
Moose jumped when the microwave beeped, but he did so for a particularly stupid reason. He simply wasn't used to all the beeps and groans and hisses that came out of a modern kitchen. He could handle noises, sure, but the sort of noises you got at a prison were a much different variety from the noises a microwave made.
Moose had never heard it called casserole, but he'd eaten something that had looked similar enough before. He squinted at it, immensely skeptical of what was being offered, but he grabbed a fork just the same, prodding at it once before scooping a bunch onto his fork.
Thankfully, he wasn't completely stupid, and he squinted at the steam coming off it before blowing on it a bit to cool it down. Guessing it was probably cool enough, he took a big biteful, pausing to consider.
It was good. It was a lot different from what he'd had in prison, and it tasted a lot better. It was also probably better for him, and even though the temperature was wildly inconsistent (and perhaps a bit too cold in the middle), Moose went about making short work of what he'd been offered. Emmeline didn't need to worry about hurrying him, because Moose had spent plenty of time in an environment where people stealing your food was a legitimate concern. He went through the majority of the casserole before Emmeline could even think up small talk to ask, and he paused, swallowing down his current mouthful before answering. "No. Was just walkin' home. I go that way all the time, because it's faster and it's not like anyone's going to try and mug me."
EMMELINE EVANS | MAY 14TH, 8 PM |
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Post by EMMELINE EVANS on Nov 20, 2013 11:16:14 GMT -8
| rabbit - hearted I look around, but I can't find you If only I could see your face Instead of rushing towards the skyline I wish that I could just be brave I must become a lion hearted girl Ready for a fight Before I make the final sacrifice We raise it up, this offering We raise it up This is a gift, it comes with a price Who is the lamb and who is the knife? Midas is king and he holds me so tight And turns me to gold in the sunlight And in the spring I shed my skin And it blows away with the changing wind The waters turn from blue to red As --- Emmeline giggled slightly. She could just imagine it—someone popping out from behind a corner to mug someone and finding Moose standing there. She was sure they’d realize what a terrible mistake they had just made. She could imagine the look on their faces as they sized up their target. Oh that would be hilarious. In retrospect. In the moment she’d probably be too terrified to laugh—if she was there. Which she probably wouldn’t be.
“Well, that’s a relief,” she murmured, rocking her glass back and forth and watching the condensation on the inside of the glass wash away with each swish. She was always thinking about others before she thought of herself. “I’d feel bad if I’d inconvenienced you.”
He sure was eating fast. Was he hungry?
She took a breath and looked at Moose’s plate. “Did you want me to warm you up some more? We have plenty.” she asked politely. Even if she ended up heating up the rest of the casserole, that wouldn’t be too big of a problem. Maybe she could pretend she had a friend over. Gabrielle would probably go along with whatever story Emmeline came up with, but the last thing she wanted was to put her new friend on the spot like that.
But she owed this man! At least this much. She didn’t know how she was going to repay him for the kindness he had shown her the past hour. Emmeline was fairly certain that most people would just look the other way and pretend it wasn’t happening. Emmeline knew that, unfortunately, she was one of those people.
Moose, of course, looked like he was more than capable of holding his own. Most people wouldn’t want to risk getting hurt. Moose probably didn’t really have that kind of risk. “Do you need more water? We might have soda if you’d prefer.”
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Post by DARRIN "MOOSE" MOORE on Nov 20, 2013 16:23:44 GMT -8
Moose wasn't starving, but he was hungry, and it was his habit to eat fast. In prison there was no time to sit around and pick through food. You either ate, or someone else would relieve you of your food. Moose had never given people an opportunity to take his food, and he'd wolfed down anything he was offered in record time.
He considered her offer for more, genuinely unsure. On one hand, Moose was hardly one to turn down food. On the other, he'd actually eaten three meals that day, and it looked like his ability to get food was pretty good. While he still wasn't eating every meal, he could eat every meal. He wasn't starving, and it was unlikely he was going to be going hungry anytime soon. Going hungry didn't seem like it was going to be a concern, and he paused, fighting his urge to take every bit of food offered.
No. He could do without. "I'm good. It was good." Moose declared, showing his distinct lack of vocabulary. "I should probably be gettin' back though." Would Oskenonton and Rhiannon wait up? Would they leave the door unlocked? Was he going to end up sleeping a little bit away from the home and dropping back in during the morning?
No way to tell, and he paused, getting up, leaving the plate almost completely clean. He scooped up the glass, draining the last bit in a quick gulp before setting it down, not asking for more.
EMMELINE EVANS | MAY 14TH, 8 PM |
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Post by EMMELINE EVANS on Nov 21, 2013 13:00:17 GMT -8
| rabbit - hearted I look around, but I can't find you If only I could see your face Instead of rushing towards the skyline I wish that I could just be brave I must become a lion hearted girl Ready for a fight Before I make the final sacrifice We raise it up, this offering We raise it up This is a gift, it comes with a price Who is the lamb and who is the knife? Midas is king and he holds me so tight And turns me to gold in the sunlight And in the spring I shed my skin And it blows away with the changing wind The waters turn from blue to red As --- He needed to leave? No, of course he did. It was getting later by the minute and he probably had at least a little ways to walk before he got to where he needed to go. Besides, it was a good thing. Her parents or brother would be home soon and it would be terrible for Moose if they found him in their kitchen, eating their food, and Emmeline sitting across the table.
They’d think terrible things.
Emmeline nodded and stood up when Moose did, gathering up his plate and slipping it into the sink, followed by his glass when he was finished with it. He was a guest here—he shouldn’t lift a finger to clean up! Emmeline was still in pay him back mode, too. She wished there was something else she could do for him, but this was probably as close as she was going to get to paying him back. “Okay. I’m glad you liked it. . . I’m a fan of it but the rest of the family likes it,” she said.
She left the sink to lead him to the door. “Is there—is there anything else I can do for you? I could—I could. . . ,” she trailed off as her eyes lifted up at the sight of flashing lights. Headlights. She waited to see if she could hear the garage door open: that meant her dad was home and Moose could swiftly exit out the front, but that sound never came. The second half of the garage was full of stuff so her mom had to park in the driveway.
And she came in through the front door.
“Mom’s home!” she whispered, frozen for a few seconds. This was bad. Unless Moose didn’t think it was bad. But Emmeline was certain it was probably a terrible thing if he got caught in the house. She didn’t want to feel bad, she was just doing something nice for him, but her mom would never be able to get over how Moose looked. “Um—um—um—go through the back! There’s a gate on the side of the house.”
Quickly, she hurried to the back and unlatched the sliding door and threw it open. “My brother likes to sneak out so he keeps it oiled—it shouldn’t make any noise!” she whispered harshly. At least the front door was blocked by the dividing wall to the kitchen.
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Post by DARRIN "MOOSE" MOORE on Nov 22, 2013 8:35:34 GMT -8
Moose was definitely not expecting to have to sneak out of anyones house that night, but it seemed that fate had other plans in mind for him. His stomach felt pleasantly full, and he didn't really feel like running, but the moment Emmeline stiffened, Moose did as well, head swinging towards the doorway. He could only half see what was going on, but Emmie's reaction made things clear enough.
Someone had come home, and he was abruptly no longer welcome. It was a sort of painful, melancholy feeling when he realized that, but he pushed it away. He should have known something like that would happen. He didn't fit in. He stood out too much in a nice little neighbourhood like this, and he'd never be able to go anywhere without people watching.
He gave her a quick little nod, following her to the back door. What was he supposed to say? Time was of the essence, and moose wasn't very good at whispering. He tried though, keeping his voice down. "Thanks for the food. Hope you're okay." He said quickly before vanishing out the back door.
He lurked by the side of the house for a solid forty seconds before unlatching the gate and heading out, letting his feet carry him quickly. He wasn't going to run though. Running would only attract attention. Better to just walk confidently like he was meant to be there.
If he was lucky, he'd make it out of the neighbourhood before being stopped.
EMMELINE EVANS | MAY 14TH, 8 PM |
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BUBBLES
Main Admin  
Scary Little Girl
sociopath
Posts: 97
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Post by BUBBLES on Nov 22, 2013 18:37:53 GMT -8
| | | Finished Thread
You have been rewarded with one residue as this thread is now complete. It has been placed in the archives under the 'finished' sub-board. You are more than welcome to PM fate if this thread is not finished or if you are unhappy/unsatisfied with the amount of residue that has been rewarded. Keep up the great work and keep posting with other members.
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