If Lucas' body was like that of a majestic horse (she'd heard the metaphor for him before, as locker room gossip, and found it pleasantly agreeable) she saddled up but only had one foot stirruped, the other lazily swinging free.
"What is 'good', Lucas? I don't believe in 'good'." She tried to raise her hand into perfect approximations of two-fingers per hand air-quotes, but she fell short as her mind swirled into a riptide that was both soft and unenergetic. She lamely pawed at the air, or maybe the descriptor was interchangeable with 'cutely' or 'tiredly' or 'fitfully' or any other number of somewhat contradictory concepts she tried to marshal into one singular series of possibilities.
Lucas' warmth suffused into her, or maybe it was her's into him. Biologically-born women (of which Beryl probably was one) tended to hold less heat due to differences in fat distribution, vascular system function, so on. But the thermodynamic system of a Beryl Mahelona and a Lucas Abernathy assuming no heat exchange with the environment could have been modeled any number of exceptions proving any number of rules. The heat could have flown in either direction... but either way it was cozy, and comfortable, and it felt like a blanket draped over her from the shoulder up.
And she felt weirdly vulnerable still, and wanted to slowly shrink into the mass of human off to her one side, retreating into it like a snail into it's shell.
She moved as slow as a snail, at least.
And rather queerly felt as slow too. It took her even longer than normal to murmur her next response with a tepid quietness:
"Take me up on it by playing piano, or...?"
This feeling was progressively familiar, bit by bit downloading into her like the vengeful return of an old memory, but Beryl felt too sluggish to react in time, as she entertained the particular vision of herself as a doll to be cuddled and called with affection... or was she the sort of doll that needed to be stabbed and called 'voodoo'? She didn't know, she didn't follow, and she felt a dizzying array of odd spatial disturbances that entertained her even as they confused.
Risky Business
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TheLordOfAwesome
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Beryl continued to press her body up against Lucas's, a situation he has grown use to by now. She was warm and soft, but he was well acquainted with the warm softness of a girl's body pressed against his own. Not that he didn't appreciate it all the same regardless of how many other girls he's had. Of course, given how this has been going he didn't think it wouldn't go any further than this.
He'd still try though. He had to be subtle here since he hadn't had much luck so far. He wouldn't completely give up tough! she might not believe in good but he didn't believe in the no win scenario!
"Well, I could but it isn't a talent of mine." He said, trying to sound bashful as he drummed his fingers slowly on her shoulder. With his other hand he reached into one of his pants pockets, and with a stylish flourish he produced a business card.
"My card." He said as he offered the card to his female companion, holding it between his index and middle finger. The card had a off-white coloring, with the words ABERNATHY PRODUCTIONS: MOVIES, COSTUMES, AND PROPS in Garamond Classico lettering centered and embossed in black. This bad boy, along with the other 499 other business cards that it came along with, cost him around $8.50 and they turned out great! Just look at that subtle coloring! The tasteful thickness of it! OH MY GOD! It even has a watermark!
He looked at her expectantly but then frowned slightly. She looked tired, very tired. Thinking on it, her last response was rather quiet. Had this how thing taken it out of her? Maybe she didn't get a lot of sleep.
"Hey, you okay?" He asked, concern seeping into his voice."You seem out of it."
He'd still try though. He had to be subtle here since he hadn't had much luck so far. He wouldn't completely give up tough! she might not believe in good but he didn't believe in the no win scenario!
"Well, I could but it isn't a talent of mine." He said, trying to sound bashful as he drummed his fingers slowly on her shoulder. With his other hand he reached into one of his pants pockets, and with a stylish flourish he produced a business card.
"My card." He said as he offered the card to his female companion, holding it between his index and middle finger. The card had a off-white coloring, with the words ABERNATHY PRODUCTIONS: MOVIES, COSTUMES, AND PROPS in Garamond Classico lettering centered and embossed in black. This bad boy, along with the other 499 other business cards that it came along with, cost him around $8.50 and they turned out great! Just look at that subtle coloring! The tasteful thickness of it! OH MY GOD! It even has a watermark!
He looked at her expectantly but then frowned slightly. She looked tired, very tired. Thinking on it, her last response was rather quiet. Had this how thing taken it out of her? Maybe she didn't get a lot of sleep.
"Hey, you okay?" He asked, concern seeping into his voice."You seem out of it."
She could remember, or, she felt vague mockeries of memory somethings.
Happy, warm, what she was. She identified it and knew it and enjoyed it but that was not all.
As she was somethings, many other elses, she was, she always would be. She did not, she had never, would never know. All lines blurred as her vision and tone rung in her head and it was eerie, music without notes, something wailed deep in her head. It was not, or it was, was fear not, was not was hurt, not was not anger was, not was helplessness was, was not was a primal lust,
was longing not, not was discomfort.
All she knew for sure was that happiness in that moment. Surge.
Laugh. Smile.
Stab.
The humanoid blur beside her shifted and something glitched into Beryl's vision and she saw specks of flesh infinitely far away lens infinitely close. All horizon, no horizon, where was the horizon, charcoal black etched into her irises, seared like an infinity bright light and that was what she imagined lay in the beyond.
Happy, she was so happy, she knew she was so happy.
Stop. Please.
She couldn't smile and her smile was falling away from her like direction and all else like the fall of her eyelids down and down into the well of gravity and her stomach falling away until it would burst the bones of her pelvis.
Flay her nerves.
Burn her alive.
Something. What was this something. It was happy and...? She was gone...? She was still here...?
Lucas felt the entirety of Beryl's weight suddenly distribute over his side, her skin blobbing into his arm and over, past, momentum dragged her as a rag doll that looked perfectly like her tumbled with an inhumanly bent angle into his lap. She landed not softly, her descent a half-second, her waist crunched into a tiny ball as her forehead dangled off his thigh. Her hair skittered like spider legs, strands of black trapped by static over the shirt over his chest, crawling in every direction independent of common sense.
One arm pinned at a mutant angle, under herself, above himself, her elbow digging into his crotch and her wrist flopping what looked like the wrong way.
Happy, warm, what she was. She identified it and knew it and enjoyed it but that was not all.
As she was somethings, many other elses, she was, she always would be. She did not, she had never, would never know. All lines blurred as her vision and tone rung in her head and it was eerie, music without notes, something wailed deep in her head. It was not, or it was, was fear not, was not was hurt, not was not anger was, not was helplessness was, was not was a primal lust,
was longing not, not was discomfort.
All she knew for sure was that happiness in that moment. Surge.
Laugh. Smile.
Stab.
The humanoid blur beside her shifted and something glitched into Beryl's vision and she saw specks of flesh infinitely far away lens infinitely close. All horizon, no horizon, where was the horizon, charcoal black etched into her irises, seared like an infinity bright light and that was what she imagined lay in the beyond.
Happy, she was so happy, she knew she was so happy.
Stop. Please.
She couldn't smile and her smile was falling away from her like direction and all else like the fall of her eyelids down and down into the well of gravity and her stomach falling away until it would burst the bones of her pelvis.
Flay her nerves.
Burn her alive.
Something. What was this something. It was happy and...? She was gone...? She was still here...?
Lucas felt the entirety of Beryl's weight suddenly distribute over his side, her skin blobbing into his arm and over, past, momentum dragged her as a rag doll that looked perfectly like her tumbled with an inhumanly bent angle into his lap. She landed not softly, her descent a half-second, her waist crunched into a tiny ball as her forehead dangled off his thigh. Her hair skittered like spider legs, strands of black trapped by static over the shirt over his chest, crawling in every direction independent of common sense.
One arm pinned at a mutant angle, under herself, above himself, her elbow digging into his crotch and her wrist flopping what looked like the wrong way.
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TheLordOfAwesome
- Posts: 745
- Joined: Mon Aug 13, 2018 4:37 pm
- Location: Washington
"Beryl?"
Suddenly she toppled over like a puppet that got its strings cut, her entire weight sinking into him. So taken back, he raised his arms as a knee jerk reaction, not halting her descent into his lap as her body bent at an awkward angle and dropping his business card. Lucas suddenly found himself with Beryl's head resting in his lap, her body scrunched up as her arm was trapped beneath her. He wanted to try and help her but her arm under her body drove her elbow painfully into his groin, his only reaction was to go wide eyed and a straggled squeak was emitted from his throat as the elbow was digging into his genitals from Beryl unintentionally applying her wait into it.
"Oh God, why...?" He wheezed out as pain radiated from his crotch.
Why was this happening to him? Was this karma for trying to get it on with Beryl while he was seeing someone else? Was fate letting him know he was an asshole by having Beryl's condition affect her now and letting this happen? Why would nature conspire against man like this?!
Then the school bell rang, letting him know class had ended.
"Whyyyyyy...?!" He hissed out in pain, looking to the ceiling as if asking some cruel deity why they had forsaken him like this.
He carefully took hold of Beryl, his hands shaking all the while, and attempted to right her in her seat. As he lifted her, he quickly tried to remove her elbow from his junk, accidentally grinding it in more and causing his face to twitch and contort with pain, clenching his teeth as he tried to stifle a pain scream. Soon he freed himself from Beryl's ballbuster weight, and he let out a relieved sigh as Zod, Non, and Ursa were finally safe from the limp girl's elbow.
He laid her upward in her seat, making sure she wouldn't topple over any other direction. Especially not towards himself again.
"Beryl..." He mutter, breathing heavily as he lad a hand on her shoulder. "You... okay... there...?"
Suddenly she toppled over like a puppet that got its strings cut, her entire weight sinking into him. So taken back, he raised his arms as a knee jerk reaction, not halting her descent into his lap as her body bent at an awkward angle and dropping his business card. Lucas suddenly found himself with Beryl's head resting in his lap, her body scrunched up as her arm was trapped beneath her. He wanted to try and help her but her arm under her body drove her elbow painfully into his groin, his only reaction was to go wide eyed and a straggled squeak was emitted from his throat as the elbow was digging into his genitals from Beryl unintentionally applying her wait into it.
"Oh God, why...?" He wheezed out as pain radiated from his crotch.
Why was this happening to him? Was this karma for trying to get it on with Beryl while he was seeing someone else? Was fate letting him know he was an asshole by having Beryl's condition affect her now and letting this happen? Why would nature conspire against man like this?!
Then the school bell rang, letting him know class had ended.
"Whyyyyyy...?!" He hissed out in pain, looking to the ceiling as if asking some cruel deity why they had forsaken him like this.
He carefully took hold of Beryl, his hands shaking all the while, and attempted to right her in her seat. As he lifted her, he quickly tried to remove her elbow from his junk, accidentally grinding it in more and causing his face to twitch and contort with pain, clenching his teeth as he tried to stifle a pain scream. Soon he freed himself from Beryl's ballbuster weight, and he let out a relieved sigh as Zod, Non, and Ursa were finally safe from the limp girl's elbow.
He laid her upward in her seat, making sure she wouldn't topple over any other direction. Especially not towards himself again.
"Beryl..." He mutter, breathing heavily as he lad a hand on her shoulder. "You... okay... there...?"
She'd heard that question, she'd heard all the questions, even the ones not directed at her. She'd heard every bony creak and fleshy plop. She'd heard the paper-thin and watery beat of her own heart underwater.
She didn't respond for a while. Also.
Her mannequin-ly mortal body propped into the back of her seat at an discomfiting angle and her shoulder blades were pinned superior to the skin that was supposed to come bundled with her shoulders. Everything dug up at an angle as her barely coherent muscles collapsed towards all that lay below, earth, space and time and the various interpolations of an eviler afterlife. And her eyes zeroed out as singularities. Information did not escape the orbit of the milky white that barely peeked out of her weight-drenched eyelids.
"Why is... not the easiest, question to answer."
The joyless, meaningless buzz of life (meaningless, because what was a life consciously lived if one assumed it to have a purpose beyond the stochastic, how rather, did one answer that question meaningfully?)
and Beryl forgot the rest, but the joyless mean (cruel, in an abstract sense) buzz of life infected her lips and vibrated warmth radiant through her flesh there, before the rest of her came to life. Her mind worked through the conversation in the probably wrong order, first in and first out.
"Are you okay? .. Because, hm. I think I am. And, if, you can move you should abandon me.. before you're late for class."
Her lips re-imagined as belonging to reality and not merely sketched haphazardly onto it broke into a smile. From all angles and all interpretations a smile of any sort, but whether it was tired or nervous or uncomfortable or pleasant or knowing or mischievous it was a smile for Lucas, that she angled at him as she settled with every muscle and angle of her body she could rally deep into her seat, burying herself into cheap upholstery as a child would into a friendly blanket.
She didn't respond for a while. Also.
Her mannequin-ly mortal body propped into the back of her seat at an discomfiting angle and her shoulder blades were pinned superior to the skin that was supposed to come bundled with her shoulders. Everything dug up at an angle as her barely coherent muscles collapsed towards all that lay below, earth, space and time and the various interpolations of an eviler afterlife. And her eyes zeroed out as singularities. Information did not escape the orbit of the milky white that barely peeked out of her weight-drenched eyelids.
"Why is... not the easiest, question to answer."
The joyless, meaningless buzz of life (meaningless, because what was a life consciously lived if one assumed it to have a purpose beyond the stochastic, how rather, did one answer that question meaningfully?)
and Beryl forgot the rest, but the joyless mean (cruel, in an abstract sense) buzz of life infected her lips and vibrated warmth radiant through her flesh there, before the rest of her came to life. Her mind worked through the conversation in the probably wrong order, first in and first out.
"Are you okay? .. Because, hm. I think I am. And, if, you can move you should abandon me.. before you're late for class."
Her lips re-imagined as belonging to reality and not merely sketched haphazardly onto it broke into a smile. From all angles and all interpretations a smile of any sort, but whether it was tired or nervous or uncomfortable or pleasant or knowing or mischievous it was a smile for Lucas, that she angled at him as she settled with every muscle and angle of her body she could rally deep into her seat, burying herself into cheap upholstery as a child would into a friendly blanket.
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TheLordOfAwesome
- Posts: 745
- Joined: Mon Aug 13, 2018 4:37 pm
- Location: Washington
Eventually Beryl began to stir again, which was of some comfort to Lucas. He knew she had cataplexy attacks but this had to be the first time he had actually been there when she had one. He'd probably would have been more concerned had his most sensitive area not got an elbow jammed into it not a few moments ago, but that wasn't important now. What is important is that she is talking and he can figure out what to do from there.
"I'm fine." He replied quickly.
Well... Fine for have his groin getting crushed by a girl's elbow and her weight being applied to it. But he was trying to ignore the pulsating pain that had yet to fully go away and was definitely trying to appear like he was okay.
"I'm not going to up and leave you here and you are like this." He weakly gestured a hand towards Beryl. He looked over to the auditorium door that lead back into the hall then refocused his attention back to Beryl. "Do you, like, need to go to the nurse or anything? I mean, I could probably help you get there or get someone to help you."
This whole thing was his idea, and thinking of just leaving her here sitting in a chair just didn't sit right with him. He wasn't just going to abandon her and would carry her if he needed to. Well, carrying might be possible since he knew he had some poor upper body strength but it is the thought that counts he figured. Still, she could need help and he would give it if she needed it. Then again, Beryl might just insist it is okay that she be left in a chair in an otherwise empty room because why not. She was the sort of person who'd do that Lucas figured.
"I'm fine." He replied quickly.
Well... Fine for have his groin getting crushed by a girl's elbow and her weight being applied to it. But he was trying to ignore the pulsating pain that had yet to fully go away and was definitely trying to appear like he was okay.
"I'm not going to up and leave you here and you are like this." He weakly gestured a hand towards Beryl. He looked over to the auditorium door that lead back into the hall then refocused his attention back to Beryl. "Do you, like, need to go to the nurse or anything? I mean, I could probably help you get there or get someone to help you."
This whole thing was his idea, and thinking of just leaving her here sitting in a chair just didn't sit right with him. He wasn't just going to abandon her and would carry her if he needed to. Well, carrying might be possible since he knew he had some poor upper body strength but it is the thought that counts he figured. Still, she could need help and he would give it if she needed it. Then again, Beryl might just insist it is okay that she be left in a chair in an otherwise empty room because why not. She was the sort of person who'd do that Lucas figured.
Distribution of suffering was in flux, but calculating the specifics came down to functions only derived from the interpretation of religious texts.
..... No, Beryl couldn't remember. She'd math-ed out the sayings of the Buddha once but hadn't that just been a joke? Or a reference to something else? No no, wait, wasn't all human behavior just referential to some aspect of culture or biology? For example, her incessant questioning herself in roundabout terms? Was she just some biological meat puppet coded queerly?
Okay she was totally queer though. Well, probably. How long had it been since she'd crushed on a girl?
Wait, she was still in a conversation. Or was it, more accurately, the dregs left over after a complete conversation.
"You're not fine," she replied slowly. Time had passed strangely, because.. she'd heard Lucas responding, but really hearing him was more ambiguous. Her thoughts constituted a separate and far more nebulous dialogue compared to that of a real person's real (were they real) moving lips.
"And I am fine..." She assured. Tonally neutral, as always, speaking as if through a slight smile and massive situational unawareness. She stood up. Suddenly, so quickly that vertigo exploded through her sight, but the pain was merely cohort to the pretty sharp angles of light stabbing through her field of vision, and she watched the screeching geometric figures clashing through her eyeballs, amused herself thus into being docile.
She wasn't sure what she was trying to prove. She merely did... something.
"You can go ahead. If you need.. someone to check on The Three Wise Men." She had her own preferred nomenclature for them. "We'll follow up on that conversation..."
No assurances of when, no assurances of how. As Beryl was wont. That one certain ambiguity of her nature never seemed to change.
..... No, Beryl couldn't remember. She'd math-ed out the sayings of the Buddha once but hadn't that just been a joke? Or a reference to something else? No no, wait, wasn't all human behavior just referential to some aspect of culture or biology? For example, her incessant questioning herself in roundabout terms? Was she just some biological meat puppet coded queerly?
Okay she was totally queer though. Well, probably. How long had it been since she'd crushed on a girl?
Wait, she was still in a conversation. Or was it, more accurately, the dregs left over after a complete conversation.
"You're not fine," she replied slowly. Time had passed strangely, because.. she'd heard Lucas responding, but really hearing him was more ambiguous. Her thoughts constituted a separate and far more nebulous dialogue compared to that of a real person's real (were they real) moving lips.
"And I am fine..." She assured. Tonally neutral, as always, speaking as if through a slight smile and massive situational unawareness. She stood up. Suddenly, so quickly that vertigo exploded through her sight, but the pain was merely cohort to the pretty sharp angles of light stabbing through her field of vision, and she watched the screeching geometric figures clashing through her eyeballs, amused herself thus into being docile.
She wasn't sure what she was trying to prove. She merely did... something.
"You can go ahead. If you need.. someone to check on The Three Wise Men." She had her own preferred nomenclature for them. "We'll follow up on that conversation..."
No assurances of when, no assurances of how. As Beryl was wont. That one certain ambiguity of her nature never seemed to change.
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TheLordOfAwesome
- Posts: 745
- Joined: Mon Aug 13, 2018 4:37 pm
- Location: Washington
Seeing Beryl stand up helped put Lucas at ease a little but still eyed her cautiously as if she could fall over any minute.
"Well, if you sure. I mean, I guess you'd know better than I would." He muttered, sounding a little unsure. "I guess we better get going then. No sense in being late for class."
He turned away from Beryl and looked over to the auditorium doors, then looked back to Beryl. He wanted to insist that she go see the nurse, but he got the feeling that would be a futile effort. She would probably insist that she was okay, and her rather odd thought process would make it difficult to change her mind or argue with her.
"If you change your mind about going to the nurse, you have my number. Just give me a call." He said, before turning his attention back to the doors.
He collected his things and began to move his way back through the row of seats, making his way to the doors. Once he reached the doors he looked back to Beryl and gave her a brief wave goodbye before exiting the auditorium.
((Lucas Abernathy to be continued in The Plan Unfolds...))
"Well, if you sure. I mean, I guess you'd know better than I would." He muttered, sounding a little unsure. "I guess we better get going then. No sense in being late for class."
He turned away from Beryl and looked over to the auditorium doors, then looked back to Beryl. He wanted to insist that she go see the nurse, but he got the feeling that would be a futile effort. She would probably insist that she was okay, and her rather odd thought process would make it difficult to change her mind or argue with her.
"If you change your mind about going to the nurse, you have my number. Just give me a call." He said, before turning his attention back to the doors.
He collected his things and began to move his way back through the row of seats, making his way to the doors. Once he reached the doors he looked back to Beryl and gave her a brief wave goodbye before exiting the auditorium.
((Lucas Abernathy to be continued in The Plan Unfolds...))
"Sense," Beryl repeated in a query sans query tone. She supposed that, sometimes she liked that word and sometimes not.
He glanced back, and she sort-of waved contentedly, a slow half-drift of her hands in real time.
"Oh, yes. I know I have your number." But no, she didn't want to overemphasize her intent, because sometimes odd things would happen as a result. So no, there was no
. As fun as
could feel in how they shaped what fell out of Beryl's lips.
She didn't wave when he actually waved bye. She enjoyed the moment of desynch, but not too much.
(later but not by much)
Somehow it didn't feel like she'd left, for a moment after she'd gone. She'd left the auditorium but she hadn't really left it. Her mind's eye lingered, she supposed. She could still envision everything in perfect detail, through space and through time.
Yes, there was herself enjoying a stolen away moment with a cute boy whose name was possibly irrelevant, though the name of his junk was possibly relevant.
She wondered why there was an odd black spot, a void of information, right in the middle of such a pleasant encounter.
He glanced back, and she sort-of waved contentedly, a slow half-drift of her hands in real time.
"Oh, yes. I know I have your number." But no, she didn't want to overemphasize her intent, because sometimes odd things would happen as a result. So no, there was no
Code: Select all
[i][/i]Code: Select all
[b][/b] and [i][/i]She didn't wave when he actually waved bye. She enjoyed the moment of desynch, but not too much.
(later but not by much)
Somehow it didn't feel like she'd left, for a moment after she'd gone. She'd left the auditorium but she hadn't really left it. Her mind's eye lingered, she supposed. She could still envision everything in perfect detail, through space and through time.
Yes, there was herself enjoying a stolen away moment with a cute boy whose name was possibly irrelevant, though the name of his junk was possibly relevant.
She wondered why there was an odd black spot, a void of information, right in the middle of such a pleasant encounter.