Post by Kynikos on Oct 28, 2016 19:17:08 GMT -4
[this is never going to have been satisfactorily finished]
"Good morning." She smiled with her typical graces. "How goes the write up?" Her hands glossed over to her, resting daintily on the scientist's shoulder.
"It's... fine. Yeah. I'm not making as much progress as I'd want." She paused, contemplating. "Am I awake?"
"An outré question, but it seems to me that you are, yes." She cocks her head puzzled. "Is there some reason for this confusion?"
"No... it's just... another time. Yes, another time. I don't want to talk about it." Her right hand drops the pen and slips across her shoulder to rub her neck. Has she been working that long?
"Of course, Emilia. I'm making myself some tea, would you like some?"
"That would be lovely."
Her hands find their way to her phone, resting on silent and open it up. Sandra Nevilla, as goes the google search, deceased actor and mathematician. Two weeks ago an unforeseen accident involving a two car collision... She's seen it before. She closes out of the tab and looks back at her paper. It's of little consequence now with her mind presumably out to lunch, as she stands up and meanders to the door peering out into the kitchen. She's still there.
"Too many long hours? Fuck. I don't know, I don't know..." The words can barely be heard over the whistling of the kettle. She peers back. It's definitely a thing that is still happening. "Fuck." Play it cool. She surely can play out any delusion. At least the illusionary tea will be nice.
"Here you are, Emilia." She passes her a brimming tea cup with curling steam rising. She sits down on the piano bench placed in the office, patting the spot next to her. "Would you like to sit?"
"Sure. I'm not getting much work done." The tea certainly feels real and tastes as it typically does. "Did you know that you're in the news?"
"Oh, are you talking about the Shakespearian performance? I'm not sure why they're obsessing over that one in particular, but it's nice to be noticed." She seems to talk quickly now, without choosing her words.
"Not quite? They're staying you've had an unfortunate accident." She covers the line with a grin.
"Are they? What cause? Death by pundit?" Sandra turns her head, smiling at Emilia.
"Car crash, it seems." She gazes into her tea.
"Oh."
"If you'll excuse me for a bit... I need to think. Need to find a calculator."
"Of course." Sandra stays sitting as she meanders out of the room
"Of course he wouldn't pick up. Just when I'm seeing the dead. Shit, am I going to find my mother eventually? Are... they're both just living in my head. Probably, figuring my luck. Fuck." She tries her phone again. "He was just on too. Where else could he have gone? I will literally kill Benedict if I even have a semblance of a mind once I get out of here."
"Something about your mother?" Her voice breaks her out of her reverie.
"I may be going mildly insane. I thought I saw my mother call me. Haha." Her voice, typically trained in being able to lie through such matters breaks. It's not every day that you're faced with such a situation.
"Oh." She pauses. Did she hear? "Time is so short, isn't it? It seems like yesterday you were running away."
"Yeah. Still slightly terrified, I guess."
"Is that what had you so unsettled earlier?"
"Yes."
"It's been years..."
"I know."
"You need to get over it eventually."
"I seem to recall having this conversation frequently."
"You should seek therapy."
"I am lending serious thought to that."
"Wait. Are you serious?"
"Yes."
"I'm not sure I ever thought I would see the day."
"All it takes is seeing dead phone numbers. Tends to break one out of their blissful ignorance."
"... I doubt it. What really caused this?"
She's got to know by now. "A general concern for my salubrious mental state."
"I don't seem to recollect any ah, mythical previous concern for it." She smirks.
"What's life without a change of pace?"
"There must be something more."
"You're dead, aren't you?" It's finally out as her voice breaks. It falls flat and sounds robotic. She wishes she could blame it on her work for evoking such a mental state.
"Not quite, I'm afraid. Do you remember?" She pauses. "Nicolas? Benedict? Do you wonder why he didn't pick up?"
"You seem to be implying something here." Her hand slips into her pocket. Nicolas sounds vaguely familiar.
"I am."
"Who's Nicolas?"
"A mountaineer who you befriended after accidentally meeting up with him at the top of a skyscraper. He was going up, you were going down, and he was holding a potted plant. He made an off the cuff remark about being able to climb the building and you watched with some fascination. You exchanged numbers when you pulled it off yourself."
"That sounds... right. Why don't I remember him?"
Sandra's only response is to half-heartedly shrug.
"And what about Benedict? Why wouldn't he pick up?"
"He's not able to." Her hand slips around Emilia's and drags her to their room.
"What?"
She turns on the light.
"Oh. If it's any condolences, I'm sorry." "I..." She falls silent. "At least you're here."
EDIT - Never posted the song.
"Good morning." She smiled with her typical graces. "How goes the write up?" Her hands glossed over to her, resting daintily on the scientist's shoulder.
"It's... fine. Yeah. I'm not making as much progress as I'd want." She paused, contemplating. "Am I awake?"
"An outré question, but it seems to me that you are, yes." She cocks her head puzzled. "Is there some reason for this confusion?"
"No... it's just... another time. Yes, another time. I don't want to talk about it." Her right hand drops the pen and slips across her shoulder to rub her neck. Has she been working that long?
"Of course, Emilia. I'm making myself some tea, would you like some?"
"That would be lovely."
Her hands find their way to her phone, resting on silent and open it up. Sandra Nevilla, as goes the google search, deceased actor and mathematician. Two weeks ago an unforeseen accident involving a two car collision... She's seen it before. She closes out of the tab and looks back at her paper. It's of little consequence now with her mind presumably out to lunch, as she stands up and meanders to the door peering out into the kitchen. She's still there.
"Too many long hours? Fuck. I don't know, I don't know..." The words can barely be heard over the whistling of the kettle. She peers back. It's definitely a thing that is still happening. "Fuck." Play it cool. She surely can play out any delusion. At least the illusionary tea will be nice.
"Here you are, Emilia." She passes her a brimming tea cup with curling steam rising. She sits down on the piano bench placed in the office, patting the spot next to her. "Would you like to sit?"
"Sure. I'm not getting much work done." The tea certainly feels real and tastes as it typically does. "Did you know that you're in the news?"
"Oh, are you talking about the Shakespearian performance? I'm not sure why they're obsessing over that one in particular, but it's nice to be noticed." She seems to talk quickly now, without choosing her words.
"Not quite? They're staying you've had an unfortunate accident." She covers the line with a grin.
"Are they? What cause? Death by pundit?" Sandra turns her head, smiling at Emilia.
"Car crash, it seems." She gazes into her tea.
"Oh."
"If you'll excuse me for a bit... I need to think. Need to find a calculator."
"Of course." Sandra stays sitting as she meanders out of the room
"Of course he wouldn't pick up. Just when I'm seeing the dead. Shit, am I going to find my mother eventually? Are... they're both just living in my head. Probably, figuring my luck. Fuck." She tries her phone again. "He was just on too. Where else could he have gone? I will literally kill Benedict if I even have a semblance of a mind once I get out of here."
"Something about your mother?" Her voice breaks her out of her reverie.
"I may be going mildly insane. I thought I saw my mother call me. Haha." Her voice, typically trained in being able to lie through such matters breaks. It's not every day that you're faced with such a situation.
"Oh." She pauses. Did she hear? "Time is so short, isn't it? It seems like yesterday you were running away."
"Yeah. Still slightly terrified, I guess."
"Is that what had you so unsettled earlier?"
"Yes."
"It's been years..."
"I know."
"You need to get over it eventually."
"I seem to recall having this conversation frequently."
"You should seek therapy."
"I am lending serious thought to that."
"Wait. Are you serious?"
"Yes."
"I'm not sure I ever thought I would see the day."
"All it takes is seeing dead phone numbers. Tends to break one out of their blissful ignorance."
"... I doubt it. What really caused this?"
She's got to know by now. "A general concern for my salubrious mental state."
"I don't seem to recollect any ah, mythical previous concern for it." She smirks.
"What's life without a change of pace?"
"There must be something more."
"You're dead, aren't you?" It's finally out as her voice breaks. It falls flat and sounds robotic. She wishes she could blame it on her work for evoking such a mental state.
"Not quite, I'm afraid. Do you remember?" She pauses. "Nicolas? Benedict? Do you wonder why he didn't pick up?"
"You seem to be implying something here." Her hand slips into her pocket. Nicolas sounds vaguely familiar.
"I am."
"Who's Nicolas?"
"A mountaineer who you befriended after accidentally meeting up with him at the top of a skyscraper. He was going up, you were going down, and he was holding a potted plant. He made an off the cuff remark about being able to climb the building and you watched with some fascination. You exchanged numbers when you pulled it off yourself."
"That sounds... right. Why don't I remember him?"
Sandra's only response is to half-heartedly shrug.
"And what about Benedict? Why wouldn't he pick up?"
"He's not able to." Her hand slips around Emilia's and drags her to their room.
"What?"
She turns on the light.
"Oh. If it's any condolences, I'm sorry." "I..." She falls silent. "At least you're here."
EDIT - Never posted the song.