She left Interwebz and it's plethora of computers with a grin on her face. It was easy to say that she was proud of herself, what her first Help Wanted add just posted. She imagined she'd be rolling in the phone calls (maybe get at least one) in no time.
Not that Nesy was in any hurry for it. She still had a little cash saved up, and Harper Rock had been kind to her so far. Kinder than Toronto. She pushed the thoughts away with the strands of her hair that escape the catastrophe of a bun she'd slopped them into.
The brunette stopped at the edge of the sidewalk to dig through her red leather jacket for her pack of cigarettes. A bad habit, people said. She set the filter between the petals of her red-stained pout and lit it up without a second thought. Where now? She wanted to head into the wilderness. See if she could spot another bear.
There was no cell service in the wilderness.
But there were bears, fungi, and lost objects of varied importance out there. The decision should have made itself- but what if she missed a call? What if she missed the call?
The freckles along the bridge of her nose momentarily creased as it scrunched and she headed for... well anywhere now.
She thumbed over the pack of cards in the pocket opposite her cigarettes. Nesy always kept them in the same spots to help balance out her jacket. She didn't want people to know she had **** in her pockets. She'd rather just let them assume she was a little heavier around the middle.
The brunette ashed her cigarette when it got close to the filter and flicked the wasted end into a trash bin. A stick of gum later, and she'd be decent enough to practice her card tricks for a few children when they were on their way home from school.
That wasn't what she wanted though. She wanted something more. She had heard of something more and now it whispered through her mind at every waking moment throughout her day.
You were made for more.
There is more out there.
The possibilities are endless.
Nee was pretty sure admitting to this voice would lead to incarceration. Then Halo would have to dig her out, and that was just a straight hassle. So she was going to keep that Disney-level **** to herself, and wait for her moment.
Not patiently, but she'd wait.
Wanted: Magician's Assistant [Arun]
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Nee (DELETED 9007)
- Posts: 6
- Joined: 15 Nov 2016, 03:21
Wanted: Magician's Assistant [Arun]
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Arun (DELETED 9048)
- Posts: 37
- Joined: 03 Dec 2016, 08:27
Re: Wanted: Magician's Assistant [Arun]
Arun called them manifestations.
[man-uh-fest]. Readily perceived by the eye or understanding. OR ‘of or relating to conscious feelings, ideas, and impulsesthat contain repressed psychic material’.
Psychic material. That’s the thesis that Arun worked upon. Ever since he was a young boy, around the age of puberty, certain feelings had become manifest. It didn’t happen all the time. In fact, it happened so infrequently that he’d committed himself, at one stage, to a mental institution. He was eighteen at the time, and was able to do so of his own volition. His parents and been a little shocked but ultimately unsurprised; he imagined that they were a little in awe of the person they had created, wondering from which part of their genes his quirks and eccentricities spawned.
Were they proud? Or were they disappointed? It didn’t bear dwelling.
Arun’s older brother, Eric, was distant and aloof. He was away more than he was around, and the younger sibling assumed that Eric had something to hide. But paranoia, Arun was told, was high on his list of eccentricities.
The cold light of the computer bathed Arun’s boyishly curious features. The internet was a source of mostly untrustworthy information, but it was at least a point from which he could meet other people. Other people might have answers. Was it just in his imagination that these manifestations were more frequent, these days? Or was it just because he’d stopped taking the drugs? The numbness subsided, and the fire threatened to consume.
It was time to explore alternative avenues.
He would go through the advertisements, one at a time. He would weed out the useless ones and follow up on those that showed promise; Arun was nothing, if not resourceful. And dedicated. He picked up his phone and dialled the next number on the list. Help wanted, it said. Something about an assistant. He did not have high hopes for this one, but no experimentation was thorough if not all paths were followed.
He hit the green ‘call’ button. And he waited.
[man-uh-fest]. Readily perceived by the eye or understanding. OR ‘of or relating to conscious feelings, ideas, and impulsesthat contain repressed psychic material’.
Psychic material. That’s the thesis that Arun worked upon. Ever since he was a young boy, around the age of puberty, certain feelings had become manifest. It didn’t happen all the time. In fact, it happened so infrequently that he’d committed himself, at one stage, to a mental institution. He was eighteen at the time, and was able to do so of his own volition. His parents and been a little shocked but ultimately unsurprised; he imagined that they were a little in awe of the person they had created, wondering from which part of their genes his quirks and eccentricities spawned.
Were they proud? Or were they disappointed? It didn’t bear dwelling.
Arun’s older brother, Eric, was distant and aloof. He was away more than he was around, and the younger sibling assumed that Eric had something to hide. But paranoia, Arun was told, was high on his list of eccentricities.
The cold light of the computer bathed Arun’s boyishly curious features. The internet was a source of mostly untrustworthy information, but it was at least a point from which he could meet other people. Other people might have answers. Was it just in his imagination that these manifestations were more frequent, these days? Or was it just because he’d stopped taking the drugs? The numbness subsided, and the fire threatened to consume.
It was time to explore alternative avenues.
He would go through the advertisements, one at a time. He would weed out the useless ones and follow up on those that showed promise; Arun was nothing, if not resourceful. And dedicated. He picked up his phone and dialled the next number on the list. Help wanted, it said. Something about an assistant. He did not have high hopes for this one, but no experimentation was thorough if not all paths were followed.
He hit the green ‘call’ button. And he waited.
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Nee (DELETED 9007)
- Posts: 6
- Joined: 15 Nov 2016, 03:21
Re: Wanted: Magician's Assistant [Arun]
Nesy stood with her back to the hard wall of a building. She didn't even read the sign to know if there was loitering allowed or not. Rebellious. She snorted at the thought and closed her eyes as her mind raced.
Focus.
The word whispered through her mind and her heart slowed. Her body relaxed. It was almost easy to mistake for a high the sudden way she liquified, but it was better than any high. It was the same nagging voice in the back of her head but this time she had caught it and dragged it out for what it was.
Part of her had been fearing for months that she'd been hearing things. That one of the thick tombs she had opened by candlelight had released something specifically to plague her. This was no such demon, no nightmare.
If she knew anything, it was a nightmare.
She was a nightmare.
Nesy rolled her shoulders and decided to head for the morgue to test her new-found focus. Whispers had said there were living dead inside. Zombies. Things that would make a fight interesting.
She was two steps out when the buzz in her pocket stilled her in her stride. She dug it out and swiped the screen when the unknown number lit it up. Anyone who was supposed to have her number was in her phone. And now anyone interested in an assistant.
"I've been waiting for your call. What's the bar of your choice?"
She was never one for patience. Never one for thoughtful conscious decisions.
But she was thoughtful enough to ask where they'd like to meet, within her one stipulation.
And it would have to be a bar to prove they were at least old enough to enter one. No prank calls from little teenyboppers.
Focus.
The word whispered through her mind and her heart slowed. Her body relaxed. It was almost easy to mistake for a high the sudden way she liquified, but it was better than any high. It was the same nagging voice in the back of her head but this time she had caught it and dragged it out for what it was.
Part of her had been fearing for months that she'd been hearing things. That one of the thick tombs she had opened by candlelight had released something specifically to plague her. This was no such demon, no nightmare.
If she knew anything, it was a nightmare.
She was a nightmare.
Nesy rolled her shoulders and decided to head for the morgue to test her new-found focus. Whispers had said there were living dead inside. Zombies. Things that would make a fight interesting.
She was two steps out when the buzz in her pocket stilled her in her stride. She dug it out and swiped the screen when the unknown number lit it up. Anyone who was supposed to have her number was in her phone. And now anyone interested in an assistant.
"I've been waiting for your call. What's the bar of your choice?"
She was never one for patience. Never one for thoughtful conscious decisions.
But she was thoughtful enough to ask where they'd like to meet, within her one stipulation.
And it would have to be a bar to prove they were at least old enough to enter one. No prank calls from little teenyboppers.
W A N I N G | C R E S C E N T
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Arun (DELETED 9048)
- Posts: 37
- Joined: 03 Dec 2016, 08:27
Re: Wanted: Magician's Assistant [Arun]
The feminine voice on the other end of the phone answered as if greeting a familiar. Arun was, for a moment, thrown, his mouth opening and closing a couple of times like a stunned fish. Or a fish out of water, anyway. Eventually, he caught up.
”Ah… uhm, the sports bar? Harper Rock University. South of Newborough?” he said. He’d been given the opportunity to make the decision, to say this is where we’re going and you don’t have a choice. But it was too late to take the initiative. The bar was the only one that Arun frequented, given that it was close enough to the University.
The Romanian tilted back in his chair; the library was dark. It was one reserved for faculty, in the science building. Most everyone had gone home. A few other computers were lit up near the outer edges, all far away from each other, each student or teacher or employee choosing to stay as far away from each other as possible. The quiet conversation he was having on his phone wouldn’t disturb anyone.
With the phone tucked between ear and shoulder, the man closed the lid of his laptop and started to pack up his things. He did not expect to be meeting anyone right now. He expected to set up future meetings, some of which he might cancel at the last minute if he were to find something worth chasing in the meantime. But, this worked too, he supposed.
That was, if the girl/woman/person knew where to go; if she knew this part of the city as good as Arun did. Which was still somewhat intermediate.
”Ah… uhm, the sports bar? Harper Rock University. South of Newborough?” he said. He’d been given the opportunity to make the decision, to say this is where we’re going and you don’t have a choice. But it was too late to take the initiative. The bar was the only one that Arun frequented, given that it was close enough to the University.
The Romanian tilted back in his chair; the library was dark. It was one reserved for faculty, in the science building. Most everyone had gone home. A few other computers were lit up near the outer edges, all far away from each other, each student or teacher or employee choosing to stay as far away from each other as possible. The quiet conversation he was having on his phone wouldn’t disturb anyone.
With the phone tucked between ear and shoulder, the man closed the lid of his laptop and started to pack up his things. He did not expect to be meeting anyone right now. He expected to set up future meetings, some of which he might cancel at the last minute if he were to find something worth chasing in the meantime. But, this worked too, he supposed.
That was, if the girl/woman/person knew where to go; if she knew this part of the city as good as Arun did. Which was still somewhat intermediate.