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Post by Logan Andrews on Mar 2, 2009 21:56:32 GMT
I'm getting dangerously close to the point where I just stop caring.
Probably not a good sign...probably not a good sign when you look at the combining factors either. Apathy, lack of self-preservation and wandering straight into a densely populated muggle street without a conscious purpose does not look like it's going to have a positive outcome.
I entertain myself with a vague, alternate reality where I somehow recover my lost wand and blow all the damn muggles to hell and end up back in Azkaban.
That, however, is not looking entirely likely in this reality.
One - because I still don't quite know where my wand is, having stopped keeping track of it when I decided it was redundant. Two - because I'm not quite that insane yet. And three - because although I'm quite miserable and don't care that much what happens to me, I still care a little and still do not want to head off back to Azkaban.
I flinch briefly, hand twitching jumpily on reflex to my pocket where I do usually keep my wand, as a large group of loud muggles heads past me on the street, brushing a little too close by for comfort.
It's not my usual type of place. For one thing, it's a street whereas I usually stick to larger, emptier places like parks or rural housing estates.
But...coming here was on an entirely subconscious whim, stemming from waking up this morning, alone, and knowing that I couldn't take another day of the same scenery and having to leave Knockturn Alley.
Why here though?
I really don't know.
Because it's not somewhere I've been before, I suppose, and the unfamiliar is pleasant occasionally. Because here it's very unlikely I'm going to end up running into Fitzy or Riley like I did in Knockturn Alley. Because-...
I stop before I can even think of another reason, ducking into a doorway to some shop or another while I wait for another large crowd of people to pass because I don't think I can take another close encounter without getting annoyed.
Except it seems that I've reacted too soon, because now I have to hang around in the doorway, not quite inside and not quite outside, while I wait nonchalantly for them to pass by properly so I can venture back out onto the pavement again.
I catch myself vaguely rubbing the side of my face wearily, specifically the sore tender part where the bruising has only half come out from where Riley hit me. Just a small moment of masochism I suppose, because I'm pressing a little harder than strictly necessary.
Then again, it can be rather nice to feel at times.
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Post by Lilith Stewart on Mar 2, 2009 22:26:55 GMT
There are very few drawbacks to running a used bookstore like this. It's a lovely sort of business, you meet lots of interesting people, and because it's our very own, we get to decide when to close and who's going to make the kids lunch while the other eats a sandwich at the counter.
But, on the other hand, you meet a lot of really weird people, it's not always a very successful business, and it's just about impossible to actually get through a day without finding yourself immersed in a book at least five or six times, only to be rudely recalled back to the present by a customer who 1922 edition of Shakespeare to be priced just a little bit lower. Very disorienting.
Right now, however, I'm not complaining. But that's because I have a half-eaten turkey sandwich while Leo is upstairs making macaroni and cheese, and I also just sold two bagfuls of novels to the kid down the street who has a crush on me. and technically, I'm on my lunchbreak so it's perfectly all right to be reading at the counter, and there aren't any customers anyways.
Drat. Spoke too soon, I think as the bell above the door gives a happy little ding!
"We don't take porn here, Mrs. Morrison, so you can take your kinky novels somewhere else," I say without looking up, taking another bite of sandwich before I decide to double check anyway. It's usually her at this time of day, but you never know.
"Ah, you're not Mrs. Morrison," I say pleasantly instead, smiling at the mildly creepy-looking man who's lingering in the doorway. "But as long as you're not looking for 'romance,' I don't bite. Come on in."
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Post by Logan Andrews on Mar 2, 2009 22:39:10 GMT
I wonder if it's okay to laugh at that, or even why that's funny.
It's probably the prolonged spell of depression, prompting me to find amusement in things that would usually just irritate me...like a mistaken case of identity...and after going over it like that, the random urge to laugh disappears very quickly and I frown vaguely instead.
Never the less, I'm still prepared to either ignore the woman behind the counter or quickly head back out onto the street and just brace myself against the crowd...but I happen to glance over at her before I do and see that she looks...quite familiar.
So there's probably a psychological term for that, some sort of post-parting comfort mechanism of projecting someone's appearance onto someone else, but I don't know what that term would be.
Whatever it is...I reckon that's what's going on here, because for a moment she reminds me very strongly of Arden and the urge to leave swiftly sort of grows for a moment. Until I realise that she actually does bare a sort of resemblance and have to force back the urge to shake my head to clear it because I've already been quite twitchy and weird enough today.
Either that, or I've gone mad...a different kind of mad to my usual mad.
Although apparently I have, because instead of leaving silently the curiousity prompts me into saying, "No...thanks. Sorry for interrupting."
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Post by Lilith Stewart on Mar 2, 2009 22:44:59 GMT
"Ah, don't worry about it. This is what I'm supposed to do." I grin at him again, stealing a bookmark from the pile on the counter and licking a bit of mustard off my hand before setting down my sandwich and standing up - which doesn't exactly do much for my height considering how tall the stool was, but it is more professional.
"A lot of people are shy about admitting that they like to read, but if I can help you find something you like, I promise I won't tell anybody."
A very small voice in the back of my head is asking me quietly if this is the sort of customer I should really be talking to - but as much as Fitzy's tried to instill in me a sense of paranoia, that very small voice is as far as he's got, and easy to drown out at that.
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Post by Logan Andrews on Mar 3, 2009 9:21:32 GMT
Hm, she's sort of short too. Like Arden.
Shutupshutupshutupshutupshutup...
That hasn't worked in the past couple of days mind, so I don't see why it would work now apart from helping to make me seem a lot slower and more dense because it's hard to concentrate when I'm putting so much effort into blocking things out.
"Hm." I say which doesn't really respond to anything that she said, but I think most of it went over my head anyway. I've spent the last few days in Knockturn Alley - only talking once to Fitzy and Riley and no one else - so she seems sort of disorientatingly friendly by comparison.
"Do I...know you? You look familiar."
I obviously don't know her, of course. She's a muggle who runs a book shop, how the hell would I know her?
The resmeblance is probably vague at best, my head doing strange and pathetic things to me, but it is sort of bothersome so I feel obliged to ask.
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Post by Lilith Stewart on Mar 3, 2009 15:42:07 GMT
Ah... so I guess he's not here for the books then.
I frown at him slightly, but ultimately decide that, like my calling him Mrs. Morrison, this must be a mistake.
"No, I think I'd remember if I knew anybody as creepy-looking as you," I say, nodding, and instinctively backing up a bit behind the counter. There's something about him really bothering me now, which is why I'm not pleased to have Micheal come charging down the stairs right then. He's not supposed to do that ordinarily, but especially not when there are creepy, non-book-buying men in the shop.
"Oh, hey Mum. Issy won't eat her macaroni again because I told her it was alien brains. Hey, Mr. Arden's friend," he adds as an aside, before picking himself properly up off the floor and twirling his toy airplane around. I eye the guy curiously now, not sure what to say to that.
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Post by Logan Andrews on Mar 3, 2009 16:04:39 GMT
"Sorry..." I frown slightly, shaking my head and moving a little further back in the doorway as I apparently freaked her out and that wasn't my intention and today, I really don't feel like hurting anyone so she's safe anyway.
I hesitate though, coming to a complete stop, as the kid comes down the stairs...before I even hear him speak because even though I can't remember his name I do know where I recognise him from. Fairly sure it starts with 'M'...but I don't know what it is and can't be bothered to concentrate enough to remember...so I don't respond, but instead look at the not-muggle again and say slowly, "...You're Lilith, then?"
It's sort of a relief to know that I'm not entirely crazy, and that it's entirely feasible to liken her to Arden then...but also a little weird and completely against the odd's that something like this would even happen.
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Post by Lilith Stewart on Mar 3, 2009 16:08:33 GMT
"Ah...." I say intelligently, before shaking my head to clear it. "Um, Micheal, will you please go back upstairs and tell Issy you were joking?"
There, now there's only one thing to focus on. "Ah, yes, I'm Lilith. And you're....?" There aren't a great many of Arden's friends that I've never met, and so I really don't think I need to leave it hanging like that. "... Logan?"
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Post by Logan Andrews on Mar 3, 2009 16:15:15 GMT
"Mm." I answer guardedly, noting dimly that it's probably safe to go outside now but it feels a little weird to just leave without saying something else.
I don't know quite what else there is to say though, so I just nod briefly and keep quiet.
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Post by Lilith Stewart on Mar 3, 2009 16:29:18 GMT
"Hm...." I say back, eying him carefully and sizing him up. It's a little bit odd, to have formed an opinion of him before finding out that he's someone I already have opinions about - or at least impressions. I know that Fitzy hates him, I know that Arden loves him... and I know that he's the reason she looked a right mess the last time I saw her. Not on the outside, of course, but I could tell anyway.
"You have a lot of nerve, you know, coming in here."
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Post by Logan Andrews on Mar 3, 2009 16:33:56 GMT
Because I knew that - despite the significant odds against it - coming in here would mean running into you?
I consider asking this, but decide that I probably don't need any more enemies right now than I already have and should just keep my mouth shut and leave.
But then again, I don't know when the next time I'll interact with anyone will be...so I just shrug and say, "And how'd you figure that?" as if I don't already know why she's being sort of hostile.
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Post by Lilith Stewart on Mar 3, 2009 16:36:19 GMT
"You can't just break someone's heart and then... accidentally run into her family," I say, changing tack about halfway through when I remember how uncertain he looked when he came in. I've always been curious anyway, what his side of the story is.
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Post by Logan Andrews on Mar 3, 2009 16:41:45 GMT
"Right...well, I'll bear that in mind next time and never accidentally run into you again," I say with a small nod, slightly derisive, just a bit condescending...but the tone is probably called for considering how ridiculous her statement was.
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Post by Lilith Stewart on Mar 3, 2009 16:47:49 GMT
I can't help smiling at that, just a little, because he kind of sounds like Fitzy and I always seem to smile when he gets sarcastic/derisive like that.
"Right, I'm sorry. I really shouldn't jump on you when I don't know the story. I've heard a lot about you, especially from Micheal. He likes you. Which isn't that surprising because Micheal likes everybody, but Issy likes you too. She said you were quiet."
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Post by Logan Andrews on Mar 3, 2009 16:53:22 GMT
"Right..." I say slowly, a little surprised by that because I've already nearly forgotten encountering her kids anyway and it was very unpleasant...at least initially and then it wasn't so bad after a while, I suppose.
"Well...good, then."
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Post by Lilith Stewart on Mar 4, 2009 2:37:57 GMT
"I'm rambling," I say in reply, looking at the floor a moment. "I guess I'm just not sure if I should say 'nice to meet you' or not."
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Post by Logan Andrews on Mar 4, 2009 10:11:08 GMT
"Ah...yeah, you are." I nod, then shrug, "But I guess...probably not, all things considering."
All things considering like I, supposedly, 'broke her sister's heart' or whatever it was that she said.
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Post by Lilith Stewart on Mar 4, 2009 16:15:25 GMT
"That's true," I agree, nodding. "I don't want to judge you just from what I've heard, though. So unless I find out that you hit, cheated on, or otherwise were cruel to my sister, I'm willing to like you a little bit."
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Post by Logan Andrews on Mar 4, 2009 16:20:36 GMT
I raise an eyebrow a fraction after a few seconds of judging how to respond to that, because I'm fairly sure I've done all of what she just said but don't want to say it out loud.
"Right...well, that's probably a bad idea," I only hesitate a second after that because that probably implies that she definitely not should should like me a little bit especially because I have completed her checklist there, and then carry on to say, "And...I should probably leave. So...it was somewhat nice to meet you, and sorry for disturbing you."
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Post by Lilith Stewart on Mar 4, 2009 16:30:43 GMT
"Oh... I see," I say frostily, looking at him with new dislike. "Funny, because I was thinking how you remind me of Fitzy, so maybe that's the reason he dislikes you. I didn't think he was right."
I've been told that I talk too much, but I really can't help it - and until he actually does leave, I don't think I'll decide that the conversation's over. It takes most people a while to realize this.
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Post by Logan Andrews on Mar 4, 2009 16:42:13 GMT
I scowl a little at that, the comparison to Fitzy more than anything else and bite back the urge to snap at her because the irritation hasn't formed into words yet and I have no idea what would come out of my mouth if I tried.
I wish she hadn't replied to that though, so I could have just left and had done with it, but I do feel like I should say something back but at the moment I don't know what it is, so I just use my fallback of silence.
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Post by Lilith Stewart on Mar 4, 2009 16:47:35 GMT
I look at him impassively for a moment more, waiting for some response before shaking my head.
"On the other hand, he also likes to describe himself in worse terms than he should, so maybe you're not as bad as you say, either."
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Post by Logan Andrews on Mar 4, 2009 16:54:15 GMT
"I...really don't appreciate the comparison," I say after a moment, just in case she hasn't worked that out yet.
Also means that I don't have to think up an answer to that comment.
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Post by Lilith Stewart on Mar 4, 2009 17:00:14 GMT
I snort just a little in response to that - more of a mild 'hmph' sound than anything else - and shake my head. "No, of course you don't. But you're in my house so I'll say what I like."
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Post by Logan Andrews on Mar 4, 2009 17:08:30 GMT
"Well, I'm trying to leave, but you keep talking." I say with a small shrug.
That probably doesn't make sense because I could leave, even if she does keep talking it's not as if it's impossible for me to just ignore her and go anyway.
It's probably more along the lines that she keeps saying things I feel like I should reply to, I suppose.
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Post by Lilith Stewart on Mar 4, 2009 17:13:21 GMT
"Pardon me for saying so, but you really don't look like you're trying to leave," I say, noting that he hasn't even really moved. "... Can I just ask you one thing, though, before you do leave?"
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Post by Logan Andrews on Mar 4, 2009 17:16:30 GMT
I shrug again, because I suppose I haven't. I've just said that I have a couple of times, but then pause, "Yeah...I guess you can. Go ahead."
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Post by Lilith Stewart on Mar 4, 2009 17:19:55 GMT
Now I have to figure out exactly which question is most important out of the various phrasings that've come to mind, so I pause a moment but then nod once it's fixed in my head.
"If you could, would you go back to her, or do you prefer it this way?"
Arden didn't really want to talk about it when I saw her, so I don't even know what all went on or who's at fault or anything. But I think this question answers the others as well as it needs to.
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Post by Logan Andrews on Mar 4, 2009 17:30:50 GMT
I sort of feel like I should have expected that, but for some reason didn't see it coming.
The immediate answer is 'go back to her' of course, but is instantly followed by the massive jumble of conflicting arguments which have so far kept my will power in tact and stopped me from actually going back to her.
Like the fact that it would be pathetic and very weak-minded indeed, because I like to keep to my decisions when I make them, because I don't know if she'd even want me to come back, because it's probably for the best to do this now before it ends some other way and hurts more, because it's probably for the best to do it anyway because a relationship that fucked should never have been allowed to exist...and a lot of other reasons besides.
The counter-argument is a lot simpler and mostly just consists of the fact that I really really want to go back.
So I shrug, "It's complicated."
Lame answer, but what the hell? It is complicated, and that's as good as any way to say it.
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Post by Lilith Stewart on Mar 4, 2009 17:35:00 GMT
"Of course it is," I say, rolling my eyes. "Every relationship is. But do you want to?"
That's more than one question now, as I fear he might point out if he really is like Fitzy - but he didn't properly answer the first one, so it's allowed.
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