The Eternal Scholar's Dream (Lisa McNally)

[Maximillion (DELETED 6550)]

Maximillion gazed around the crowded room, taking in the sweaty, scantily clad people on the floor. The music was booming through the club, and the smell of leather, sweat, and the various unique scents of each individual’s blood mixed in together through the air. He had particularly effective ear plugs in his ears, which allowed him to suppress the noise a bit, but it also made the music sound more like a deep THRUMM, THRUMM, THRUMM. He wasn’t a huge fan of places like this, especially since he had particularly keen senses of hearing, and there always seemed to be nothing but noise in clubs and bars like this. The music, the chatter, it all overwhelmed his senses.

Maximillion, however, was the kind of person who liked to push his thresholds, and become a better, stronger person. It would be easy enough to hole away at home, full control over the sound and light levels in his apartment, and simply fall away from society and leave it to be, and do, whatever it would do, outside of the confines of his cozy, yet quaint two-bedroom apartment. He was particularly fond of going into his second bedroom, the one he had converted into his own personal Office, and going on his laptop and cranking up the tunes, and opening up Microsoft Word, Excel, and Mozilla Firefox, before starting in his wild pursuit of Game Development.

He wasn’t a prodigy, by any means, but he loved making things. He had taken some classes at Community College, and had learned a thing or two about Microsoft Office – particularly Excel and Word – and had, since then, become hooked on designing new, fun and functional Spreadsheets that could automatically calculate Experience, Physical and Mental Stats, and even help him generate and grade Quests, Events and other events that took place between players. When he was ‘In The Zone’, he hated being disturbed, because that was his Best Place, his ‘Utopia’; an isolated space that nobody could corrupt, or come barging into with their loud sounds, their vulgar words or their obscene tones. But, in Max’s eyes, that was one surefire way to enter a stagnant state of complacency, and to become a worthless waste of DNA.

So, here he was, sitting at one of the side booths in the club, earplugs in his ears, and People-Watching. He would watch them, how they interacted with one another, how they danced, how individuals flirted and danced with members of the opposite 0- or same – sex, and watch for facial expressions that let him know how the actions of the other people were being received. He would note which demographics tended to get which responses from which demographics, and weigh where he fit into that calculation. He would endure the music that sounded, to him, like a pack of neanderthals screaming and cursing profusely to the sound of clicks and whistles, if it meant he could get a grasp on the culture, on the people.

His thoughts fell to the woman he kept seeing, from his exploratory trips to the Library, to practice reading Braille, one of his many preparations for the likelihood of his losing one of his Five Senses. She had caught his attention, apparently a scholar, like himself, although he wondered if she was blind, or similarly on an expedition of personal enlightenment. He had learned, at a young age, to not simply accept how things *LOOKED*, but to also take into account how many other situations he could be looking at. If someone was dressed in sagging jeans and a crappy black t-shirt with some rapper’s face on it and ‘THUG LYFE’ on it, they could still be Ivy League material … just like an upper-class white man, born and raised in a gated community, could potentially be a waste of space and DNA.

But, after a few hours here, he was warring internally with the idea of leaving, and just going to one of the Libraries in town that was open late. The club he was in opened their doors pretty early, so he still had a good hour or two at the Library if he went, but he was undecided on whether or not he was ready to leave, and end his stint of People-Watching, to go and delve into books.

So he would watch, wait, and think on it as he studied them, somehow getting the impression that, tonight, he would learn something INVALUABLE! He felt like, one way or another, tonight would help break him out of his rut, and open new doors to Enlightenment, and he would be one of a select few to glean this clear insight into a brand new world.

[Lisa McNally]

Lisa Stretched her legs out, her back resting against the wall between two book shelves. Picking up the first book in the small that sat on the floor next to her. Her fingers moving slowly over the cover. She had been coming to the library every couple days for the past two weeks, and each trip was a little less successful than she had hoped. Finally she had to request them to get some Detective Mystery Noir books. She shook her head thinking about how every Library she had ever gone to seemed to think that blind means they need boring educational reading material. Oh they had a small amount of fiction books, but she wasn't into the main stream fiction. Sparkling vampires did nothing for her nor romance between some rich whiny woman and a Confederate soldier.

Her fingers grazing the cover once more before she opened the book. Yes this was more like a good story about a private dick and a sultry femme fatale. Before letting herself fall into the world of fiction she took in a deep breath scenting the air. The slight scent of death telling her that somewhere another vampire was in the library. Nothing new and nothing that was a concern.


Pulling her vibrant blue hair into a tight ponytail and pushing one earbud into her ear. Hitting the play button on the mini ipod, letting the sounds of violins and flutes relax her as she began to read her book.

[Maximillion (DELETED 6550)]

He had witnessed death in ways few people had, during his youth. As sheltered as his mother tried to keep him, when his Father was away, there would always be those things that escaped her notice, like times when a dead body might come floating down the river in the woods about five blocks from their house. It wasn’t as though young Max were traumatized by these things, but perhaps, in a way, he had become desensitized towards the kinds of things that would traumatize most people.

* * *

First-Person

* * *

When I saw the people dancing in the club, all I could see were the things that made them human. Many, I could tell, were under the influence, and all I could envision was their untimely deaths. I envisioned the toxins spreading through their bodies, breaking down the basic functions of their white blood cells, inhibiting the efforts of their red blood cells, and causing a heightened rate of lactose production on their muscles. Their body would become less capable of producing the sensations of pleasure (endorphins, etc) they naturally produced, and even orgasming would require the use of some kind of drug, or epidermal. Even after decades of rehab, they would still be damaged, perhaps beyond any level of repair.

I never asked to be a pessimist, a cynic, nor a quasi-nihilist. I just feel like the disillusionment occurred, with me, at a much younger age than most. The concept of ‘children’ was merely humans in a sort of Larvae state. There was no Divine Law, sent to us from some Deity up on high, telling us that our Larvae had to be sheltered, or be deluded into thinking the world was a gorgeous, happy, and bright place, when it was – in reality – an often dark, dismal existence. This was the choice of Governments, whom I see as wanting to give human beings as little time as possible to learn about their environment, and lash out against it once they realize just how stifling the environments they’re reared in actually are.

But, as I think on this, I realize that my hands are clenching into fists on the table in front of me, and my palms have begun to sweat. With a sigh, I wipe them on my pants, and I push the table out a bit – I may not be fat, but even my muscle can make navigating in and out of booths a serious hassle – and I climb out of the booth, and make my way through the club, probably shouldering rudely by some people as I pass, although it’s not intentional. I am overwhelmed with these maddening thoughts that are overwhelming my head, and I’m starting to feel my muscles tensing up, and a headache is pounding sharply in my temples.

I’ve overdone it again, apparently…

* * *

When Maximillion had endured all he could at the club, he’d left, gotten into the loaner car his friend had leased to him – an ’89 Chrystler LeBaron, red with a convertible top – and shut the door behind him. As he turned the key, he went and made sure the dials were set to pump out powerful deluges of ice-cold air from the Air Conditioning. He got overheated easily, especially when he was starting to have a panic attack, or his anxiety was peaking. Few things, at this point, could make him happier than blasting the A/C, putting on some relaxing classical music, and then taking a relaxed drive through the dimly-lit nighttime streets, to clear his mind.

The Library wasn’t far, only about two to three miles away from the club, and the parking lot was empty, save for the cars of the employees, and perhaps a few cars besides. He pulled in right in front of the library, waited for the lovely Crescendo on the radio to finish it’s final refrain, then he shut off the car, pulling out the keys, opening the door and stepping out, the cold leather creaking as he got out.

After making sure the door was locked, he shut the door again, turning and stretching, doing the mental exercise he always did when he was starting to get overwhelmed, and envisioning his inhales as absorbing Light, “Healing” Energy into his body, and his exhales as expelling Dim, “Negative” Energy. After a few repititions, he finally lowered his arms, and made his way into the library, making a beeline straight for the Braille Section. Halfway there, at about the reception counter, he closed his eyes, took a few deep breaths, than began to move forward. His footfalls, naturally rather quiet – a learned technique that came part of his Marine father’s training – were allowed to be a bit heavier, so he could use his footfalls to help him ‘see’ with his ears.

Echolocation, he thought to himself, as he visualized his environment. Of course, the fact that I *have* seen, helps me visualize my environment better. This much, he had always known. Still, as he navigated to the Braille section, he would touch one or both of his large ebony hands to the bookshelves, and feel them, letting himself navigate the library by envisioning where he was, and where the Book Aisle was in relation to his destination.

When he finally got there, he paused for a moment. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, and his heart began to beat faster. Fear cuts deeper than swords, he recited mentally, a phrase he’d borrowed from a Medieval Fantasy Fiction series he had been serial watching, and reading, for the past couple of years. He took a few deep breaths, then would turn, and let his hand graze gently along the spines of the books on the column, doing his best to tell himself that his anxiety, and the chills, were just the physiological responses to his Anxiety, while a quiet voice in the back of his mind asked ‘are they really?’, barely suppressed through his breathing exercise.

He wasn’t sure which book he was going for, or whether or not he would even enjoy it. Most of the time, it just seemed to be educational material, with very few new, modern books out there to read. Either way, he was trying to improve his Braille, by reading what he could, and deducing the rest; a self-taught reader of the fine art form known as Braille. His hands slid along an Encyclopedia, and with a sudden surge of excitement, he realized this was a NEW one!

“So, they DO update the material, once every now and again,”He said aloud, to no one in particular. As he spoke, however, he noticed that the air current around him seemed to be diverted by some kind of physical object near him, and when he’d spoke, this aisle had ‘sounded’ different than it normally did, meaning there was something down below him, something that wasn’t normally there.

He opened his eyes, perturbed by his inability to tell whether it was a person, or an inanimate object, knowing it would be rude to randomly sit down upon a ‘stool’ that might end up being another person instead. When he saw the woman there, he recognized her immediately for one of the other students in his Martial Arts Class, and a regular here at the library, and particularly the Braille section.

“This may seem an odd question to ask,”He started, closing his eyes again and feeling his hands along the book spines again to find, and remove the new edition Encyclopedia from it’s shelf, and to open it slowly, carefully.

“…but, are you a regular to this neck of the woods out of necessity, or are you – like me – doing it as a means to broaden your horizons?”

He realized, suddenly, that what he asked could well have sounded like the most ignorant, and stupid remark ever to have been voiced, and he bit his lower lip with a scowl, inwardly chastising himself for his own stupidity.

“Sorry. That may be a dumb question to ask. Ah, it’s me. Max, from Karate Class.”

They don’t call it Karate anymore! Or…do they?! the thoughts came, unbidden, to his mind, the chaotic result of his anxiety, and particularly his social anxiety.

As his pulse began to quicken again, he took a slow sigh, and concentrated on slowing his heartbeat, and calming himself once more.


Maybe I should leave the talking to people who are better at it…

[Lisa McNally]

Lisa laid the first book down. She had only read a couple chapters in. Just enough to let her know that the library did as she had asked. She knew she would be taking this first book home with her. Lifting the second book onto her lap, her fingers grazing the front of the book. A slow smile curling at the edge of her lips.

The Black Dahilia

She didn’t really need to read a couple chapters of this book, but it was one of her favorites. Settling in she opened the book, her fingers grazing across the page. She hadn’t been reading long when she heard the soft whispered footsteps. Pausing she tilted her head, whoever it was was moving slowly. No doubt someone else looking for a decent book to read. There were never many in this section, one of the reasons she always sat here. A few more seconds past until she caught his scent. A mixture of soaps, maybe some type of aftershave or cologne under that was just his natural scent something spicey. He had been coming to this part of the library off and on for a bit now. There were other areas she would catch his scent which always threw her off. More than that she had caught his scent at the college where she was teaching some basic self defense. Not in her class though. He was one of the Karate students. She remembered him from the couple times she helped his teacher with demonstrations.

Shrugging to herself she began to read again.

“So, they DO update the material, once every now and again,”

“They do when their patrons get annoyed and request something different.” She had yet to move from her reading even when answering a question that seemed more to himself than to anyone else.

“This may seem an odd question to ask,”

Her fingers stopped moving over the pages. Lifting her dark blue sunglasses toward the man. She didn’t say anything just waited for him to continue.

“…but, are you a regular to this neck of the woods out of necessity, or are you – like me – doing it as a means to broaden your horizons?”

Her eyebrow lifted at his question. Broadening their horizons? That was new, she wasn’t sure if she was impressed or extremely annoyed at the thought. He continued on before she had a chance to answer. Stumbling over his own tongue. She didn’t miss the speeding of his heart, the forced breathing to try to calm himself. She was completely confused by this. She was pretty sure she didn’t wear anything too revealing, She could swear the tags from the outfit she chose said: T-shirt grey - “Don’t say I didn’t warn you”and a pair of blue jeans. So its not like he was sex on a stick or something. Why the hell was this guy freaking out? She supposed most people wouldn’t have noticed, but she wasn’t most people.

“Yeah… Hi Max. I am not really in your Karate class. I teach basic self defense. But yes I remember you. And no I am not here to Broaden my Horizons. I am here because of the new books they got in though.” She waved her hand at the small pile of books resting beside her.

“So why would you want to learn braille if you can see perfectly well?” Truthfully someone putting themselves in her world on purpose was slightly intriguing. When she taught more in depth fighting, she would eventually make her student wear a blindfold. So this is taking it just a step further.

[Maximillion (DELETED 6550)]

I truly can more or less see perfectly well, this is true, he thought to himself, turning towards her voice as she spoke. He had realized as he spoke, that there were a number of ways his words could’ve been taken, but she seemed patient enough. There was a certain air about her, that gave him the impression that he might understand him better than most, although he felt as though he could detect a hint of mild irritation about her. Might be my imagination

“Many people are blindside-, ah, caught unawares when something happens that strips them of one or more of their five senses. I’ve seen it happen personally, in my own social circles, and I’ve heard and seen it on the news. Obviously, it’s impossible to be wholly prepared for any contingency, even if the unforeseen ones, but I figured it’s not that far of a stretch to figure that we could get an early start, and begin preparing for the worst at an earlier point in our lives.

He took a moment to think about his words, to think about how he could more effectively convey them. He did this a lot, now, and he couldn't help but feel like he wasn't just speaking to some other casual daily go'er of life. There was something fierce yet beautiful about her, intelligent and perhaps as unique a creature as they came. He didn't want to come off as a gibbering idiot, so he wanted to really compose his thoughts as much as he could before continuing, and once he had, he would continue.

I mean, if someone can learn to prepare food for themselves with their feet when they’ve lost their arms to a war, or they can learn how to read without vision, or they can learn to communicate and speak with others without the ability to hear, or they can live a full, productive life without the ability to feel pain and innately know when there is something wrong with their body, then it stands to reason – in my honest opinion – that one can learn to do these things at a YOUNGER age, while the mind is still at it’s peak, and be prepared if that ever happens.”

He wasn’t unaware of how long it was taking him to communicate his thoughts. He had often, and proudly, carried the name ‘Captain Verbosity’ due to his ability to be long-winded. He had never figured out why, but he was always afraid of not communicating effectively when using shorter, more concise explanations and sentences. He always felt like something was lost in the explanation when he did that, so he had taken to giving lengthier, and more thorough explanations.

He watched her carefully, wondering how she would take his personal journey, if she would take it as an affront, or as an insult. Many people who were visually impaired, or had other disabilities, seemed to feel ‘mocked’ when someone came along and was doing what they were doing, whether it was for sport, or for personal growth. He treaded upon delicate ground, he knew, but he decided that he would do as he had always done in life: tell the truth, do so as intelligently as he could manage, and let the dice fall where they may.

[Lisa McNally]

Lisa stayed on the floor, her head slightly tilted as she listened to his rather lengthy explanation. She nodded at appropriate times, but stayed silent as he spoke. Once he was finished, she broke into a smile. That one that showed she had been young when Liz had found her. Standing up she left her pile of books where they were. Moving to the small table that right next to where she knew he stood. She turned to him sitting on the table instead of the seat pushed under it.

Still smiling she shook her head. “You are likely to give yourself an aneurysm, with as much as you think into all this. Granted you right about the whole learning things young. Being prepared is always good too, but it's just not likely in this fine town of ours.”

Her lips smoothed out, but a hint of the smile remained. “You have to also have some fun in life. Yeah learning is good and you have an unique outlook. I can appreciate that, but you're a little too serious you know?” She couldn’t help but like the guy, he had a little of that mindless professor thing going on, with all his long winded explanations. Maybe some kind of ADD thing happening at the very least he had some kind of OCD thing going on. Yeah she always seemed to draw in crazy people in one form or another.

Shrugging to herself continued, “It’s been my experience that with all that could go wrong…. really really wrong” She waved her hand about her face. “You have to step out of the what ifs sometimes. **** with this town there are just too many potential what ifs. There's talks in the news about some weird plague in the Quarantine Zone, people disappear every day, other turn up with missing memory. I believe some people have turned to explaining it as UFO abductions and some of the even crazier ones are saying there are vamps running around the city.” Again her smile grew. “Which is a damn shame that I can’t see more than vague shapes in my oh so shadowed world. Honestly I would love to see if these vamps that people whisper about sparkle.” She shook her head. “ Actually that would annoy the **** out of me.” She had to stop herself there, with the one thought she pictured all the Allurist sparkling and it made her want to fall over laughing.