Anthony (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
scramasax) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
savetheearth2014-01-25 09:44 am
scramasax) wrote in savetheearth2014-01-25 09:44 am
(no subject)
Who: Anthony Janvier and OPEN on the 23rd; Harper Sutherland, Reilanin Bainbridge, and Angeline Strauss on the 23rd and 24th.
Where: Around Locke, rounding a park and ending at one grocery store on the 23rd; the library and Angeline's place of work on the 24th.
When: Backdated to Jan. 23rd to Jan. 24th; midday to evening.
What: The resident zombie is, courtesy of Master Nine-Lived Detective, perfectly alive again for a few days. What better way to spend them than outside a bit, running a few errands?
By the time he has split off from Alex, he's already out and well-out and underprepared for it. No tasks lined up, nothing on hand except for a bit of cash, but that's well and good - he hadn't known what to do with this time in the first place, and he's got another day, at least, in all likelihood - this is hitting the ground running.
And running, he can do! Heads quickly down a few blocks in a store-lined zone, remembering his way around and enjoying it - open space without any need for a hiding spot, not that he feels coming on. Occasional bump or near-bump on his blind side, but open, nonetheless, and the sun's no bother and he can properly feel the wind. Both facts are the winter weather aside.
Meanders into the park for maximum effect of outside-ness within a few hours. He flatly drops into a bench. Brings out the sheet of paper he's got pocketed to check up on the network, unfolds it. Proceeds with the checking to his left, in case - not even thinking to compensate for incomplete view of the right.
And with that similarly cursory check done with he can resolve to get at least one minor thing taken care of - he expects he's actually going to need to sleep today, after all.
Fetching what it surely was that at least some of the money he's got on hand was meant or implicitly encouraged to be used for, it is.
He's at the store picking backing ingredients off a shelf and of all things he's forgotten how to do this without actively thinking. He didn't take a basket on the way over here - and obviously whatever he's going to pick is going to be bagged, but then he's going to need to carry those bags by hand on the way home...
Has his arms a bit full scanning shelves for more manageable shapes, if not sizes, turning a bit - doesn't need to be everything at once, just what he'll need to fill in gaps in or re-supply anything there's an obvious shortage of. He can and should come up with a proper plan tomorrow.
-----
He does set out with a proper plan today. Doesn't leave too early, seeing as technically he should be in school now, and has a backpack on him, which may or may not allow him to stand out a little less in addition to serving its utilitarian purpose.
Firm note to drop by the library, which he does - pushes the door open and promptly slips off into an aisle at semi-random just in case by some chance anyone might be present who might recognize him, ask where on earth he's been or pass on word to certain parties to who might be interested.
Either the layout's a hint different, it's occurring to him, or he's misremembering - he supposes either the earthquake forced some reorganization thinking back to Ms. Bainbridge's network message or he's just a bit out of touch. Goes to wandering back around, peering around and into the aisles to at least clue himself into a quick re-mapping-out.
At the store by the time the sun's started going down, however, he knows just where to go. Has made a proper list, weaved in and out of and picked from the aisles, and is at the front. Makes it to the register, hands over cash, responds to a well-meant inquiry about the patch over his eye with a sheepishly-laughing "Oh - it's -- surgery," stuffs the change back into his pocket and takes the bags with a thanks and a duck of the head.
He slows down towards the door stalling on whether to set down his bags and try to fit the shopping bags into the backpack with the books before or after he walks through it.
Catches a glimpse, as he does so, of what looks rather like long blue hair with streaks back inside.
Does a double-take and freezes to the spot. Partly blocking the doorway. That does look rather like who he thinks it does.
Where: Around Locke, rounding a park and ending at one grocery store on the 23rd; the library and Angeline's place of work on the 24th.
When: Backdated to Jan. 23rd to Jan. 24th; midday to evening.
What: The resident zombie is, courtesy of Master Nine-Lived Detective, perfectly alive again for a few days. What better way to spend them than outside a bit, running a few errands?
By the time he has split off from Alex, he's already out and well-out and underprepared for it. No tasks lined up, nothing on hand except for a bit of cash, but that's well and good - he hadn't known what to do with this time in the first place, and he's got another day, at least, in all likelihood - this is hitting the ground running.
And running, he can do! Heads quickly down a few blocks in a store-lined zone, remembering his way around and enjoying it - open space without any need for a hiding spot, not that he feels coming on. Occasional bump or near-bump on his blind side, but open, nonetheless, and the sun's no bother and he can properly feel the wind. Both facts are the winter weather aside.
Meanders into the park for maximum effect of outside-ness within a few hours. He flatly drops into a bench. Brings out the sheet of paper he's got pocketed to check up on the network, unfolds it. Proceeds with the checking to his left, in case - not even thinking to compensate for incomplete view of the right.
And with that similarly cursory check done with he can resolve to get at least one minor thing taken care of - he expects he's actually going to need to sleep today, after all.
Fetching what it surely was that at least some of the money he's got on hand was meant or implicitly encouraged to be used for, it is.
He's at the store picking backing ingredients off a shelf and of all things he's forgotten how to do this without actively thinking. He didn't take a basket on the way over here - and obviously whatever he's going to pick is going to be bagged, but then he's going to need to carry those bags by hand on the way home...
Has his arms a bit full scanning shelves for more manageable shapes, if not sizes, turning a bit - doesn't need to be everything at once, just what he'll need to fill in gaps in or re-supply anything there's an obvious shortage of. He can and should come up with a proper plan tomorrow.
-----
He does set out with a proper plan today. Doesn't leave too early, seeing as technically he should be in school now, and has a backpack on him, which may or may not allow him to stand out a little less in addition to serving its utilitarian purpose.
Firm note to drop by the library, which he does - pushes the door open and promptly slips off into an aisle at semi-random just in case by some chance anyone might be present who might recognize him, ask where on earth he's been or pass on word to certain parties to who might be interested.
Either the layout's a hint different, it's occurring to him, or he's misremembering - he supposes either the earthquake forced some reorganization thinking back to Ms. Bainbridge's network message or he's just a bit out of touch. Goes to wandering back around, peering around and into the aisles to at least clue himself into a quick re-mapping-out.
At the store by the time the sun's started going down, however, he knows just where to go. Has made a proper list, weaved in and out of and picked from the aisles, and is at the front. Makes it to the register, hands over cash, responds to a well-meant inquiry about the patch over his eye with a sheepishly-laughing "Oh - it's -- surgery," stuffs the change back into his pocket and takes the bags with a thanks and a duck of the head.
He slows down towards the door stalling on whether to set down his bags and try to fit the shopping bags into the backpack with the books before or after he walks through it.
Catches a glimpse, as he does so, of what looks rather like long blue hair with streaks back inside.
Does a double-take and freezes to the spot. Partly blocking the doorway. That does look rather like who he thinks it does.
no subject
"That was kind of him. I imagine it's getting difficult for any one of us these days to get out... like we used to." Not the best place to talk, she must remember that. The smell of him is new, tempting, further distracting. It takes her a moment to catch on to what he's been saying.
"Ah- ah, yes, if you would." She wears heels, but she's still short. She hands it to him, looking at it as it passes hands, unsettled that she had caught it so easily.
"Are you looking for anything in particular?..." She doesn't know what to say- she was never good at talking to people anyway. And it's worse with Anthony, who reminds her so much of her little brother.
no subject
Nick - how did she know it was Nick, then again he knows her case, she's not human - werewolf, rather to treat it more gracefully, arguably with more respect - could've extended the offer to her as well...
He hasn't answered the question by the time she continues. The first sentence seems to confirm that she'll default to assuming a yes, which is the correct answer. Smiles thinly - maybe dispelling any ambiguity as to the correctness of the assumption that may have still been in place, but kind of him, it most certainly was. Nods at the second one - smile still there, eyes downcast.
And cast back up popping a bit when she holds out the book - nudges himself back up to speed, takes it with his right hand, mumbles an "Er - thank you - ", flashes another sheepish smile, turns to reach up and slide it back into place between the two books back in theirs.
As he's pressing it to the back of the shelf he twists to look back over his shoulder. " - Oh not -- not exactly...!" Another smile. "I, er - mean -- to..."
He had meant to browse for most anything that catches his attention while he can carry them from here to home himself. That smile fades looking at Ms. Bainbridge dead-on. He'll not be the one carrying them back, best to rethink it to some degree after all. Screws the smile back up with a redoubled strain of sheepishness - clumsy of him... "... - Not particularly, ma'am, uhmm. -- Thank you - for asking - ...!"
no subject
She blinks, something in her expression dissipating. "Mm? Yes, of course..."
Had he asked something? She can't remember.
"What else have you planned while you're out?" she asks instead of focusing on it. "Ah- what have you done already?" And the questions almost seem wistful, head cocked slightly as though she might get more out of the answers that way.
no subject
Twitches the smile back up a moment. "I was - I was out yesterday also - ! I er -- met - some people..." Trailed off with a hopeful implication that he means networkers as he turns aside to give the re-shelved books another push, fidgets with their bottom corners with illusion of tipping them straighter where they were sitting.
" - And I er - " Hitches a little stronger. Faces Ms. Bainbridge and the books and Ms. Bainbridge again - " - 'm going to run some errands later while I can; I don't uh - " Smile pulls tighter and he suppresses a cough. " - It's just nice being out - to - be honest, I -- don't mind not doing much - !"
Light little wind and push of earnestness.
no subject
The fixation is hard to shake off. It's more a matter of masking that it's happening at all, and she watches him toying with the books on the shelf above them.
The thought crosses her mind to ask Nick for something similar, but it seems extraordinarily selfish. She's functional. She's safe, for the time being. It seems unnecessary.
Or maybe a part of her just doesn't want to? She touches on the thought only a moment before she notices him speaking again.
"That's good. Maybe just to take a walk and not be bothered by anything... that sounds nice." It did sound nice. She used to walk everywhere, all the time, without a worry in the world. "It's good to see you again- here, that is. There's no history group anymore, unfortunately. I just can't keep up with it these days."
Has he gone to see his parents? she wonders. No, it would be a bad idea. "...it's good to see you here," she reiterates a moment later, still looking at him, her eyes too focused, too bright, but her words sincere and softer than they ever had been, for someone usually distant and rigid.
no subject
That's true - Alex is in much the same position as of now, he's done Anthony the kindness of a few visits, and he hasn't thought to be over to see him thus far. He'd gone out yesterday with Alex Kusnitz on invitation and made no plans to specifically meet without any further - but now that she mentions it maybe it'd not be too late to offer? If not the sooner the better, he's got to at least have something to bring or do in mind if he passes by, make it worth a little more...
The books are snug and as uniformly set as they can be under his control.
Back to her, sheepish twitching smile.
" -- It's good to see you, ma'am - " And it's after he returns it that a little soft surprise flashes in him - brings a light, acute glow up somewhere in the back half of his brain, ducking everything below it in esteem.
And wistfulness.
"I'm sorry it's... -- it's been - you've had too much to manage..."
That's meant mostly on her behalf, but a sliver of it at the core is at the fact that although it isn't as if he'd have known if she hadn't said it, somewhere between the summer and now, history meetings have ceased - small things of pleasant normalcy.