EINFÜHRUNG [BIRDEE]

[Alaric von der Marck]

The choice was overwhelming once Alaric started to look. The bicycles he knew and remembered were no more than crude wire frames and wheels. These bicycles were more sleek, with wires and triggers attached to the handlebars – handlebars that were so low they would require the rider to bend over them, almost causing one’s body to be perpendicular to the road. However, according to the sign, these were the ones that were meant for the road.

Drawn to Birdee’s voice, Alaric inspected the bicycles that she pointed out. ”… Retro?” he asked, crouching down in front of the bike that Birdee said she could see him on. Vaguely he wondered why. Was it because it was brown? Brown was a staid colour. It was a reliable colour. Most would call brown a dull colour. Was he staid and dull? To the younger crowd in this day and age, he would concur that yes, he would appear staid and dull. They could think as much. It would not harm his feelings. He knew things and had done things that they could not ever hope to imagine; things that he would not wish upon them. If he was staid and dull, then so be it. Let them think it. It was safer that way.

Rather than white or red or brown, however, Alaric gravitated toward a bike near the one that Birdee thought suited him. This one was black, its tires thick and hardy, the frame sturdy and simple. This bicycle didn’t have a seat that sat higher than the handlebars. And it looked as if it would hand both the road and the path, should he wish to cut through the wilderness to get to the city.

”I think that I like this one,” he said. He didn’t even bother looking at any of the others. This one spoke to me in a way that none of the rest had – and he didn’t even bother looking at the price tag. He had decided. He lifted a hand to wave over the attendant, who was still talking to someone else; the attendant nodded and lifted a finger as if to say I’ll be with you soon. Alaric shoved his hands into his pockets and turned to Birdee.

”Would you like a bicycle, too? I will buy you one…” he said, much like an indulgent parent might.

[Birdee]

Birdee looked at the bikes then at Alaric and nodded. "Yeah, you know like...something that looks like it fits in the past, but don't? Those sort of look like they fit in 1950 or 1960, but were obviously made in some factory a month, or maybe half a year ago." She shrugged, then added on. "It's imitation. Not the real deal. Not like my sweet Turquoise tornado. She'll be a classic one day soon. Only got to be twenty, or maybe twenty five years old, I think." Birdee watched Alaric move around, not because she felt the need to watch over him, but to try and help him if he had questions. Not that she was the end all, be all to knowledge on bikes, but she could answer the most basic of questions. Which one were for men or women. What the knobs on the bikes meant, and other things like that.

She watched him gravitate towards a bike and then whistled when he seemed to be really checking it out. When Alaric said that was the one for him, Birdee nodded and said, "Alright. Let's get it for you." The choice surprised her for sure, but he seemed to know what he wanted and what he would like, and since it was going to be his, Birdee didn't have much to say. She raised her left arm high in the air before whistling to get the attention of the sales guy that had just walked away from helping someone else, then dropped that arm and blinked. She turned to look at Alaric.

"What? Ahhhh, well..." Birdee looked around and then slowly shook her head. "I don't think I've been on a bike since I was ab-well, a really long time." Birdee confessed, then laughed nervously. "But thanks. Keep your money." She had a slight problem with taking money from people, unless they owed it back to her. "I like the safety of my trusty tornado."

"You like that one? Sold one in red just like it last week. the guy stopped in a couple days ago and said it was one of the best bike's he's had in a long time." The sales guy said as he cropped up, a hand resting on the display stand as he glanced at Alaric, gauging the guy's thoughts as Birdee drifted away a little to let them sort out the details and business.

[Alaric von der Marck]

”As you wish,” Alaric responded, curious as to the source of Birdee’s nervousness – as he was certain that was the tone of her laughter. Before he could ask the question, however, or even comment on her mode of gaining the salesman’s attention. Because there he was, speaking to Alaric of a customer who’d already bought the same bike in a different colour. The elder could have pointed out that without evidence, the salesman’s pitch could have been a lie. But it didn’t matter. Regardless, Alaric wanted the bike.

”Ja,” he said. ”I would like to buy this one, danke,” he said. The salesman seemed surprised that the sale was so easy, that this customer – like most of his other customers – didn’t want to talk about the specs or compare this bike to the numerous others in the shop. But, Alaric knew what he wanted and, a stranger to having so much to choose from, would prefer to leave rather than confuse himself.

It took about ten minutes to finalise the payment – Alaric failing with his pin number twice before finally achieving it on the third try. The salesman did good, also selling the elder a helmet (illegal to ride without one) and flashing lights to attach to the front and back of the bike so that people could see him easily while on the road (after ascertaining that Alaric intended to ride on the road). Finally, Alaric rolled the bike, the bag with the helmet and lights hanging from the handlebars, out of the shop.

”That is done,” he said. He had never intended for it to be a difficult task. And when one’s intentions were clear and one’s focus was concrete, things generally went to plan. ”Danke. Bookshop now, ja?”

[Birdee]

Birdee watched Alaric and the sales guy as Alaric bought his bike. Not because she didn't think Alaric needed to be watched, but all too many times the people selling **** tried to scam people with things they didn't need. One time her mom got a car and they tried to sell her another warranty for around three thousand bucks. Her mom went to a KIA dealership and found out she still had three years of warranty on the car. If she hadn't done that, then she would have bought the other and wasted three thousand bucks on something she would never need to use. But, in this case, the guy seemed to sense that Birdee was a no nonsense type of girl by her look, or he just wasn't the type to try and trick people. There were very few of those types in the world. Birdee nodded her head in his direction, indicating her appreciation.

"Yeah. The bookstore."Birdee said eagerly, as they left the bike store. Birdee pointed to the direction they needed to go to get to the bookstore. "So, what's it like? Living for eternity?" Birdee expanded on her thought as they walked, her voice just loud enough for him to hear over the hustle of people passing by, or the sounds in the food court down the other way.

[Alaric von der Marck]

The question came out of nowhere, a curve-ball that hit Alaric like a slap to the face and he laughed. Something happened to Alaric’s features when he laughed; it didn’t happen as often as it could, and that stern default setting dropped away so that laughter could completely take over. His lips stretched wide and his teeth gleamed, wrinkles in all the right places to accentuate his mirth—as if, when human, he had laughed quite a lot.

”That is hard answer,” Alaric said, the wheels of his new bike whisper quiet against the marble of the mall’s floor. He glanced sideways and Birdee, gauging her curiosity. She was young. Of course she would be curious. Of course it was an expected question, but no one had ever been so blunt when asking it, as if she were merely asking his favourite colour or his favourite season. Green, and Autumn, if anyone were ever to be interested in such mundanity.

The smile’s wattage decreased though the amusement lingered as a gleam in his eye, a slight upturn of the lips.

”It is to feel like an outsider,” he said, in all seriousness. ”It is to be a witness to time passing. It is hard, to lose those one cares for, unable to stop caring. But it is the natural way of things. It is fascinating to see the world change. As long as there is purpose, it is not as hard,” he said. He was not sure that he had the words to properly enunciate how downtrodden the passing of time had made him feel, how even now, here, solidly on the mortal plane, he felt like he did not belong, like he never would. Time worked differently for an elder, as if the rest of the world moved in fast forward, and yet he stood perfectly still.


"I will ask of you the same question. What is it like, to be mortal?" he asked. It had been so long, he honestly had forgotten.

[Birdee]

Birdee came from a family where they talked about anything and everything at the dinner table. It was the only place where her and her mom got together during the day and talked about whatever was on their mind. School, guys, television shows, things going on in the world. Granted, even not at the dinner table, Birdee and her mom had a pretty open method of communication. So, when she asked Alaric what she did, Birdee hadn't really expected any sort of real reaction.

When he laughed, she looked at him and watched his facial features before Alaric explained how it felt. Outsider. Birdee nodded because she could understand. More times than not, she felt like an outsider, probably induced by herself. But it was hard to be friend's with anyone given her natural 'gift.' When Alaric turned the question back on her, Birdee shrugged her shoulders. "I don't think any different. I mean, people die whether you can live forever, or not. And there are outsiders everywhere." Birdee said with a hollow laugh, before moving towards the bookstore that was on on the other side where they walked. "And the world changes faster than it probably did before. So, maybe we're kinda the same." Birdee pondered that, before she nodded slowly. Sure, she had a beating heart and warm blood in her, but everything Alaric said seemed to be easily relatable to her.

"I wouldn't even know where to begin in here...so I'm probably going to go hassle a person who works here, instead of wasting both of our time." Birdee confessed with a quick look to Alaric. "They're wearing green polos...green shirts with a couple buttons at the top. And khaki or black pants. Can't remember. been a while since I was here." Months, if Birdee remembered right. She wanted to get a book on a guide to be a bartender, in case 'Alice' ever sprung that on her one night.

[Alaric von der Marck]

Alaric did not object, but nor could he completely agree. To say that he was the same as one who’d only lived thirty years at most—he could only assume that Birdee did not completely understand what the elder was saying. Regardless of how fast the world moved, it could not possibly equate to the centuries that Alaric had lived, and the things that he had gone through. The things that he had seen and done, the things that he had to learn on his own, without guidance, without help. But, nor did he wish to dismiss what she was saying. If she thought they were the same, there had to be a reason for it. If she understood, and if she had gone through hell without help or guidance, then he would try to dig, and he would try to understand.

They had reached the bookstore at this point and while Birdee went to find what she needed, Alaric browsed. Just as she had allowed him the space when purchasing his bike. One of the employees asked him if he required an assistance, her eyes darting to the bike at his side. Alaric glanced up at the shelves, at the people already mingling, and realised a bike would only get in the way.

”Ja, danke. I have bought this bike. It is okay I leave it here?” he asked. The sales assistant nodded.

”Of course! Are you looking for anything specific?” she asked, and Alaric shook his head.

”Nein. My friend, however…” he said, gesturing toward Birdee. She was the one who required help, and who seemed to wish to be as quick as possible. While the two went to find what Birdee needed, Alaric left his bike out of the way and meandered; he made sure to always be aware of where Birdee was, so as to be ready when she was ready to leave.

[Birdee]

Birdee had wandered into an aisle that wasn't anything close to what she was looking for. She had gone from 'Toys and Games,' to a small section labeled, 'Text books.' She had hit a dead end so to speak when Birdee got to this point and turned around sharply to be greeted, face to face with a sales woman who had snuck up behind Birdee.

Both her hands hit the air, but were almost immediately reeled back to a position that wouldn't be able to be touched by anyone without some fair effort. Hi! I was told you might need some help. What can I help you with?" the woman asked, more or less in program mode of what her job required her to say and do. Birdee could understand to an extent. She had worked for places like this before. Dress the same way, say the same crap. Lack of identity.

"Woah, lady. Points for the sneak attack." Birdee cackled, before both hands dropped at her sides and curled into balls. "I'm looking for, well, I guess sort of a Do it Yourself sort of guide. What do you have on DIY beer?" She asked, making no move to get closer to the woman who remained where she had been since Birdee spotted her. "I think we have three or four books on hand. If none of those work for you, we can order from one of our larger sister stores and it could be here within the week." The woman offered, while Birdee nodded her head. "That sounds cool. I'll keep that in mind, but I'm sure you'll have what I'm looking for." Birdee wouldn't honestly know what book was better than any other book, and so she would start with what they had, as to not be overwhelmed by other possibilities. "Follow me." She offered with a wave of her hand, her eyes moving to the male that had pointed her to Birdee's direction, just in case he needed something too.

[Alaric von der Marck]

Alaric had no qualms about the uniforms nor the people who worked in the shop. As soon as he’d put his bike aside, he’d meandered further into the shop and, with the air of a man who was happy to browse, was not bothered by anyone else. The elder scanned the headings above the shelves, perusing the genres until he found something to his liking. Though, it wasn’t hard to find something to his liking. He would read everything and anything, so long as it contributed to his knowledge of the modern world—and the history that had transpired while he slept.

His footsteps naturally led him away from the more frivolous sections like Crime and Fantasy and toward the Historical section; Culture, even. Philosophy, Psychology, Religion, Classics. Fiction, even, got a glance in.

Books were plucked from the shelves by virtue of their titles. Alaric was accustomed to books made only with leather covers, so the pictures upon these modern versions meant nothing to him. Some were put back, most, however, were collected. The estate would eventually need another library, or the current one to be seriously shuffled.

Alaric only made his way to the counter once he could hold no more; it had taken him only a few minutes to collect so many books it required two hands to carry them. He left them at the counter for the salesperson to scan—her eyes were bulging from their sockets as she saw how many he’d grabbed. She idly asked whether he worked for a school. Confused, Alaric shook his head.

”Nein,” he said, as if it were an odd question to ask. ”There is more,” he added, turning to look over his shoulder to see how far away Birdee was, and whether she was ready with her book. Though, he was in no hurry. If she wanted to continue to browse, then he would wait.

[Birdee]

There were a lot of books. Well, not really, but more than Birdee anticipated. She took a step back and took a deep breath in, then slowly let it out. The sales woman stepped forward and started grabbing at books, after acknowledging her own surprise at seeing more than four or five. There were seven different books from different authors and so, she started with the one furthest right and gave her opinion. Which wasn't a lot. She apologized, and moved on to the next few books and then really emphasized the ones the woman seemed to think would be the better choice after flipping through them quickly.

"I'll take the one about different brewing styles, the hot to brew one and, ahhh, the brewmaster's bible." Birdee got a kick out of that one, only because the title seemed to contradict both religion and brewing. Religious people didn't brew, maybe ferment some wine, but beer? No way. So, Birdee got it mostly for kicks and to laugh at while she read it. "Thanks." Birdee said appreciatively as the woman stacked her three choices together and then held the books out for Birdee. She looked at the stack, then the woman's placement of her hands and then the woman. "I'm kind of a germaphobe. Sorry." The sales woman just blinked and then laughed nervously before replying No problem, follow me." With a quick walk away from Birdee. In Birdee's eyes, it was better to be rude then to experience a flash of the woman's future, or any form of future of anyone in here.

"Found three." Birdee told Alaric proudly as she made her way to the counter and dug out some crinkled wad of bills. "What about you?" She asked, before finding the stack of books that she presumed were his. Birdee let out a wolf whistle and then laughed. "Woah. Dang Alaric." Birdee's attention shifted to the woman ringing up her books as she counted the wads that came in various colors and denominations, realizing she might be a little short. "Do you maybe have a few dollars I could borrow? I'll pay you back when we get back to the manor." Birdee was sure she had money stashed away somewhere...in some drawer, in the closet or other pants pockets. It just might take her a few days to find that money.