Kevin and Marie
Sep. 24th, 2007 04:49 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
x-wither.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
xp_logsMarie runs into an old, familiar face in New York City.
Kevin had only been back in the States for a few days. It was better than Muir already, no one was poking at him just to tell him nothing new at all. The Southerner found the drawl of a New York accent much more comforting to the thick gentleness of the Scottish ones are Muir. He swore half the time they were just mumbling to him anyway because there was no semblance of a word anywhere in the noises they made. Now that he was back, though, he barely had the smallest inkling of what he was going to do. He'd sold some metal sculptures he'd made in about twenty minutes to some tourists and it had been profitable enough to get him into one of the crappiest motels he'd ever witnessed in his life. Crappy as it was, he could afford to stay there nearly a week as it was. That wouldn't hold though and Kevin knew it.
He was walking around the city at the moment, trying to think up new ideas for where to go and what to do. His focus came and went as he alternated between his own thoughts and the people around him. He was covered up to his jaw in black clothing, all made of synthetic fibers, yet still his hands were in his pockets and he tried his best not to touch anyone at all. Out of the corner of his eye Kevin thought he saw someone familiar and it made him haunch down for a moment. People looked the same everywhere, though, and he decided to write it off as he couldn't find anyone familiar in the crowd around him now.
Marie blinked as she saw a familiar looking black clothed figure. He was older now, but the way he covered himself from head to toe was exactly the same as the last time she'd seen Kevin. She'd heard that he was back, but she hadn't expected to randomly run into him in the city - but that was how New York was always surprising you, showing you how small of a world it actually was. "Kevin?" she called out hesitantly, taking a few steps towards him.
The voice caught him immediately. It was almost not loud enough for him to hear, but he'd caught just enough to realize three things. It was Southern. It was his name. He was fairly certain it may have been Marie. He spun slowly on the balls of his feet, turning to face the direction the voice had come from. Recognizing Marie instantly, Kevin got a slightly nauseous feeling in his stomach, more out of nerves than anything else. He had liked the idea of being anonymous in the city. Clearly that wasn't possible. "Hu-hullo, Marie."
Lord, he looks like a deer caught in the headlights. Am Ah really that intimidating? She began to wonder if he'd heard the news about her parentage, but quickly pushed the thought away as ridiculous. "It's good to see you again," she said, one gloved hand moving to unconsciously twist a strand of white hair around her finger. "You in a rush or you up for grabbing something to eat or drink?"
"I, uh, I," Kevin tried to think of a way out of it, then he remembered that he was an absolutely awful liar. Damn. "I was just wandering, really. I have time. If you want, I mean." Sometimes it amazed Kevin at just how socially awkward he got once he manifested. It wasn't getting any better either. Of course, attractive, Southern girl talking to him was really not helping him be graceful, either. She was an RA, he told himself. She's probably only bothering out of some sort of sense of responsibility. That thought helped calm him and a little bit of tension he hadn't been aware of melted from his shoulders.
"Great," Marie said with a smile. "There's a little cafe around the corner that actually knows how to make sweet tea." Turning around, she started walking. "So what've you been up to since you got back?"
"They even know what tea is up here?" Of course, they called it sweet tea and that was some indication because it was just tea back home. After a moment's pause Kevin trailed after Marie, staying about a half step behind her. "Me? Oh, nothing much. Made some sculpture. Sold it to tourists. Just, uh, figuring things out. Don't know what I'm going to do yet. Only been here about two days so far."
"Most places think tea is something served hot," Marie said, shaking her head. She slowed down slightly so that she was walking beside Kevin. "That's pretty good, selling something you made. You make some pretty interesting sculptures, if Ah remember right. You still drawing too?"
"Not much. I like sculpture more." He'd also caused more than a few sketch books to be reduced to a pile of ashes as well. It made him less enthusiastic to draw. "How have you been?" The question came out sounding more formal than he meant it to, causing Kevin to wince. It had taken him a moment to realize in polite conversation he should ask how she was. He was failing at this.
"Um. Ah've been better," Marie said, deciding to be honest instead of giving the standard canned answer. "But things could always be worse," she added, one hand shifting to pull at the glove of the other in her standard nervous tic. "You?"
Kevin gave her a slightly curious look, one eyebrow raising by a small increment. Didn't people usually claim they were peachy or ducky or some other obnoxious term when others inquired to their state? "Things could always be worse. You could be dying in a slow, horribly painful way." Kevin said this was a little more optimism in his voice than could rightly be deemed appropriate. Unfortunately, this was truly the way he felt toward it and it was about the only idea that kept him from being completely consumed by his depression most days. "I've escaped having people poke at me repeatedly. I count that as a point in the positive column." He purposely did not further comment on his general doom cloud demeanor. It wasn't really what most people wanted to hear. Somethings were best left unsaid, he remembered his mom saying that once, though it was so long ago he couldn't really be sure if it was her that said it. His memory of her was fuzzy at best most days.
"Yeah, needles are never fun. Though sometimes they give you answers...when they don't, all the poking kinda seems extraneous, yeah?" Marie paused as they arrived at the cafe and were seated. "Ah'm guessing Ah'm not out of line assuming you didn't get answers, or at least not the ones you want, from your attitude..."
A person didn't have to be overly perceptive to see that, did they? "No answers. Nothing that I didn't know. The idiot's guide version is 'so you decay anything organic on a molecular level so don't touch anything.' You know, stuff I found out long ago." Kevin shrugged. He didn't see how a year in a place like Muir almost never got anything better, but maybe there was no other explanation for him. Maybe he was oversimplifying it, but that had been what he heard.
"Yeah. It sucks," Marie said. There was no point in sugarcoating things for Kevin - she was probably able to better understand than most. "At least we know how to make gloves look fashionable," she said, wiggling her fingers at him.
The wiggling fingers nearly made him smile. Kevin pulled a hand out of his pocket and stared at it. "I don't think I make any of it look very fashionable. It's just you who has that down." He was also effectively wearing three layers of clothing and it was nearly 75 out. People thought he was insane, though he was used to heat and he'd become used to wearing so much clothing in the heat.
"Anybody who walks the streets of New York in the September heat wearing gloves without wilting looks fashionable," Marie said, trying to keep her tone light. "At least it's almost fall which means it's almost winter, my favorite season since my manifestation."
"Mine was always autumn," something in his voice hinted that it wasn't anymore. Kevin used to think it looked nice, leaves changing colors and the air cooling off just enough in Georgia to be comfortable. Ever since he'd manifested autumn simply reminded him. It was decay without his touch, just a glaring notice of what he was.
"Autumn's pretty," Marie said, something in Kevin's tone pulling her to reminisce as well, to cool Mississippi nights with a family that she was having more and more confusion about. A flash of blue caught her eye as a woman walked by and she couldn't help a physical reaction, turning with a sigh as she realized it was just the color of the woman's skirt that had pulled her attention.
Kevin didn't respond to that. Autumn was not pretty anymore. Autumn was a slow, beautiful death and that was all it was. He wondered if he only held on lightly if the decay he caused would be prettier. That would only really make it worse, Kevin thought, so he was glad it was horrific. At least then he remembered his gloves and turtlenecks and coats. He remembered what he was.
Kevin had only been back in the States for a few days. It was better than Muir already, no one was poking at him just to tell him nothing new at all. The Southerner found the drawl of a New York accent much more comforting to the thick gentleness of the Scottish ones are Muir. He swore half the time they were just mumbling to him anyway because there was no semblance of a word anywhere in the noises they made. Now that he was back, though, he barely had the smallest inkling of what he was going to do. He'd sold some metal sculptures he'd made in about twenty minutes to some tourists and it had been profitable enough to get him into one of the crappiest motels he'd ever witnessed in his life. Crappy as it was, he could afford to stay there nearly a week as it was. That wouldn't hold though and Kevin knew it.
He was walking around the city at the moment, trying to think up new ideas for where to go and what to do. His focus came and went as he alternated between his own thoughts and the people around him. He was covered up to his jaw in black clothing, all made of synthetic fibers, yet still his hands were in his pockets and he tried his best not to touch anyone at all. Out of the corner of his eye Kevin thought he saw someone familiar and it made him haunch down for a moment. People looked the same everywhere, though, and he decided to write it off as he couldn't find anyone familiar in the crowd around him now.
Marie blinked as she saw a familiar looking black clothed figure. He was older now, but the way he covered himself from head to toe was exactly the same as the last time she'd seen Kevin. She'd heard that he was back, but she hadn't expected to randomly run into him in the city - but that was how New York was always surprising you, showing you how small of a world it actually was. "Kevin?" she called out hesitantly, taking a few steps towards him.
The voice caught him immediately. It was almost not loud enough for him to hear, but he'd caught just enough to realize three things. It was Southern. It was his name. He was fairly certain it may have been Marie. He spun slowly on the balls of his feet, turning to face the direction the voice had come from. Recognizing Marie instantly, Kevin got a slightly nauseous feeling in his stomach, more out of nerves than anything else. He had liked the idea of being anonymous in the city. Clearly that wasn't possible. "Hu-hullo, Marie."
Lord, he looks like a deer caught in the headlights. Am Ah really that intimidating? She began to wonder if he'd heard the news about her parentage, but quickly pushed the thought away as ridiculous. "It's good to see you again," she said, one gloved hand moving to unconsciously twist a strand of white hair around her finger. "You in a rush or you up for grabbing something to eat or drink?"
"I, uh, I," Kevin tried to think of a way out of it, then he remembered that he was an absolutely awful liar. Damn. "I was just wandering, really. I have time. If you want, I mean." Sometimes it amazed Kevin at just how socially awkward he got once he manifested. It wasn't getting any better either. Of course, attractive, Southern girl talking to him was really not helping him be graceful, either. She was an RA, he told himself. She's probably only bothering out of some sort of sense of responsibility. That thought helped calm him and a little bit of tension he hadn't been aware of melted from his shoulders.
"Great," Marie said with a smile. "There's a little cafe around the corner that actually knows how to make sweet tea." Turning around, she started walking. "So what've you been up to since you got back?"
"They even know what tea is up here?" Of course, they called it sweet tea and that was some indication because it was just tea back home. After a moment's pause Kevin trailed after Marie, staying about a half step behind her. "Me? Oh, nothing much. Made some sculpture. Sold it to tourists. Just, uh, figuring things out. Don't know what I'm going to do yet. Only been here about two days so far."
"Most places think tea is something served hot," Marie said, shaking her head. She slowed down slightly so that she was walking beside Kevin. "That's pretty good, selling something you made. You make some pretty interesting sculptures, if Ah remember right. You still drawing too?"
"Not much. I like sculpture more." He'd also caused more than a few sketch books to be reduced to a pile of ashes as well. It made him less enthusiastic to draw. "How have you been?" The question came out sounding more formal than he meant it to, causing Kevin to wince. It had taken him a moment to realize in polite conversation he should ask how she was. He was failing at this.
"Um. Ah've been better," Marie said, deciding to be honest instead of giving the standard canned answer. "But things could always be worse," she added, one hand shifting to pull at the glove of the other in her standard nervous tic. "You?"
Kevin gave her a slightly curious look, one eyebrow raising by a small increment. Didn't people usually claim they were peachy or ducky or some other obnoxious term when others inquired to their state? "Things could always be worse. You could be dying in a slow, horribly painful way." Kevin said this was a little more optimism in his voice than could rightly be deemed appropriate. Unfortunately, this was truly the way he felt toward it and it was about the only idea that kept him from being completely consumed by his depression most days. "I've escaped having people poke at me repeatedly. I count that as a point in the positive column." He purposely did not further comment on his general doom cloud demeanor. It wasn't really what most people wanted to hear. Somethings were best left unsaid, he remembered his mom saying that once, though it was so long ago he couldn't really be sure if it was her that said it. His memory of her was fuzzy at best most days.
"Yeah, needles are never fun. Though sometimes they give you answers...when they don't, all the poking kinda seems extraneous, yeah?" Marie paused as they arrived at the cafe and were seated. "Ah'm guessing Ah'm not out of line assuming you didn't get answers, or at least not the ones you want, from your attitude..."
A person didn't have to be overly perceptive to see that, did they? "No answers. Nothing that I didn't know. The idiot's guide version is 'so you decay anything organic on a molecular level so don't touch anything.' You know, stuff I found out long ago." Kevin shrugged. He didn't see how a year in a place like Muir almost never got anything better, but maybe there was no other explanation for him. Maybe he was oversimplifying it, but that had been what he heard.
"Yeah. It sucks," Marie said. There was no point in sugarcoating things for Kevin - she was probably able to better understand than most. "At least we know how to make gloves look fashionable," she said, wiggling her fingers at him.
The wiggling fingers nearly made him smile. Kevin pulled a hand out of his pocket and stared at it. "I don't think I make any of it look very fashionable. It's just you who has that down." He was also effectively wearing three layers of clothing and it was nearly 75 out. People thought he was insane, though he was used to heat and he'd become used to wearing so much clothing in the heat.
"Anybody who walks the streets of New York in the September heat wearing gloves without wilting looks fashionable," Marie said, trying to keep her tone light. "At least it's almost fall which means it's almost winter, my favorite season since my manifestation."
"Mine was always autumn," something in his voice hinted that it wasn't anymore. Kevin used to think it looked nice, leaves changing colors and the air cooling off just enough in Georgia to be comfortable. Ever since he'd manifested autumn simply reminded him. It was decay without his touch, just a glaring notice of what he was.
"Autumn's pretty," Marie said, something in Kevin's tone pulling her to reminisce as well, to cool Mississippi nights with a family that she was having more and more confusion about. A flash of blue caught her eye as a woman walked by and she couldn't help a physical reaction, turning with a sigh as she realized it was just the color of the woman's skirt that had pulled her attention.
Kevin didn't respond to that. Autumn was not pretty anymore. Autumn was a slow, beautiful death and that was all it was. He wondered if he only held on lightly if the decay he caused would be prettier. That would only really make it worse, Kevin thought, so he was glad it was horrific. At least then he remembered his gloves and turtlenecks and coats. He remembered what he was.
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