Love is in the air

[npc-excolo.livejournal.com]

Sunday, February 14th
Valentine's Day

I sit on my bed with my legs crossed, writing real careful in my notebook. MRS CLARA GRANGER I write, all tidy, then underneath I practice my signature. Clara Granger. That nice man at the market swore it wouldn't take too long for him to propose after he drank the potion. After I practice my signature a few times I write our names together. PETER AND CLARA, and I put them inside a nice big heart.

I hear Momma shouting for me and I sigh. I know she won't approve when Peter and I get together, cos he is a bunch older than me and she says seventeen is way too young to settle down. But I know she married Pop at nineteen, so she's just a hypocrite. And Peter's a real good catch - got his own job, his own place. There's that Maya of course to worry about, I think, and I push my pencil a bit too hard into the page and the point breaks. But once Peter's had the potion he won't remember that he likes her. I just need to work out how to get it to him.

Momma shouts again.

"Coming!" I shout. I know she wants me to go to that dumb Valentine's market and help her sell quilts. Ugh. But Peter might be around town, so I check my hair is nice before I go down.

***

This punch just don't look too appetising. I sigh and shout for Clara again. What is that girl doing? Probably dreaming about that barman. She thinks I don't know she's moony about him. I'm just glad he's got a sweetheart, or else he might go for my Clara - she's real pretty and men like adoring girls. He's much too old for her. I taste the punch and it's real nice, course it is, made from our fruits, but the colour just don't pop. Feeling a bit guilty, I get out some food colourant and drop it in, and it goes a nice reddish colour. That's about right for Valentine's, ain't it? I stopper up the barrel. Clara comes down.

"Get those quilts in the cart, will you?" I say, hustling her out and then getting the punch on the wagon. Roads are clear, so we get set up easy. Just a few stalls for this - jewellery, flowers, all kinds of novelties. I put out the prettiest quilts - maybe some guy'll think one'd make a nice present for his wife, and more practical than earbobs - and set up the punch.

"Free punch, sir?" I say, holding out a cup. After a bit of prodding I get Clara dishing up punch too. Hopefully it'll be a good day.

[OPEN]
[Closed]

Comments

[docconstantine.livejournal.com]

Jarmyn looks like he might pass out as I describe her. Now I am good and interested in how he knows her. I don't think she's seeing clients, at any rate, and I can see him the type to go after pregnant women.

“Wouldn’t say I’ve met her, really.” I listen as he explains exactly how he met Wanda, and he looks like he expects me to hit him once he's done.

"So..." I say slowly, sipping my coffee. "what you are telling me is to get a handle on the crazy psycho bitch..." Oh, I can't help but grin a little at that assessment. "...you meant to knock her out. But it only made her madder instead of putting her out cold?"

I wait a moment, considering him and then looking over to the Dormouse and back to him. "Jarmyn, Wanda is a a force of nature not to be trifled with, with a violent streak a mile long, and the ability to hold a grudge for years and believe me, I know." I start laughing now. "Be glad she didn't take you up on the offer to hit you... but is more the pity then..." I say, letting a topuch of regret creep into my voice. "She is... was... a fine dominatrix. She would have had a field day with you."

Finish my coffee, chuckling around it, when a thought occurs to me, sobering up my good mood somewhat. "She... ah... did not threaten to get her husband after you for hitting her, did she?"

[jaeresteade.livejournal.com]

He listens to me, a grin growing on his face. Not really a nice grin, for all it looks good on him, but yeah, ‘crazy psycho bitch’ is about what I’d have called her if I were telling that story to anyone else. “It usually works,” I can’t help protesting. “I get paid to stop people hitting other people, and I have tapped men twice her size the same way, and they went down.”

He’s looking from me to the tea shop and back, starting to laugh, but not like he’s really happy. I think he still loves this woman. God, I don’t know whether to feel sorry for him or not. Not really feeling sorry for myself for missing out taking advantage of her services. Not after what he just did to me. “Haven’t heard her called that, exactly, but I can see how she’d be good at it. Prefer being hit by men, myself, if I have a choice.” And really, there’s no way to say that without looking sideways at him. Can’t pretend it didn’t happen, so we might as well talk about it. Maybe talk about doing it again some time.

When he brings up her husband, I’m tempted to ask all sorts of questions, like why’s an engaged woman getting married to another man, and whose fault is the baby she’s carrying, but that’s none of my business. “No mention was made of a husband. Should I be worried?”

[docconstantine.livejournal.com]

“It usually works, I get paid to stop people hitting other people, and I have tapped men twice her size the same way, and they went down.”

Poor man sounds sulky about it. "Wanda's not..." Rake a hand through my hair. "She tougher than she looks, and she's been trained by the best in combat and weaponry and..." She married to the devil? Yeah, that'll sound good. "Just, believe me... it isn't easy to take her down."

Jarmyn mentions he'd rather be dominated by men, and I can see he wants to talk about the elephant standing in the street. "I am more accustomed to dominating women myself, or being the dominant male in a threesome." Well, I had the man's cock in my hand, not like I can act shy now. "It's been a odd sort of day... lemme ask you, did you feel anything when we met, or was it just today?" I ask, thinking there is something going on today, specifically.

"Oh, good, good." I say when Jarmyn says she didnl't mention her husband. I think that's good, she didn't go running right to him for a well meant but foolish gesture. "Ummm... he's bad new. Goes by Kent, dark hair, blue eyes. Avoid him if you can." I tell him seriously.

[jaeresteade.livejournal.com]

I just listen to him talk, glad to have escaped a fight in the middle of the street with hot coffee. Nod to his warning about Wanda’s husband, and then start thinking over what he said before that. “I’m planning on staying away from her if I can help it,” I tell him. “I’m sure she’s a fine woman, but I seem to have gotten on her bad side, and I don’t know how to remedy it. And as for today….” I stop, considering what he’s said. Not exactly that he doesn’t fuck men, just that it’s not his preference. I think he was trying to be kind about it, too. Wonder if I’ve lost all chance with him completely.

Well, as long as we’re being really honest about what we like in bed, and he’s talking about the strangeness of today. “At the jail that night, I had other things on my mind, you could probably tell. That next morning, too. Guess I didn’t realize what a fine-looking man the town doctor happened to be until today.” I smile at him, because he really, really is. “But no, I’m not in the habit of luring in near-strangers and offering them my belt and anything else they want.”

Not sure how to say this next bit, or even quite why I feel this need to be quite this honest. “Not in the habit of offering anything at all unless something’s being offered to me that’s not sex.” That’s pretty plain, and it sounds mercenary laid out like that, but it’s worked for me so far as a policy, and I don’t really feel like changing it. But why the hell am I telling him this? I guess I trust him, besides liking him a great deal, although I’m a little fuzzy as to why exactly I should. It’s my turn to run a hand through my hair and sigh. “Feel like I’ve had three whiskeys neat on an empty stomach, and I haven’t drunk that much in a year.” Stuff just keeps coming out of my mouth, and I keep wanting to tell him more.

[docconstantine.livejournal.com]

He says he's going to avoid Wanda and that's probably for the best. "She is a fine woman, and someone worth having on your side in a fight. Maybe after the baby is born, she's level out a bit." I muse, finishing my coffee and he continues on.

He's still hitting on me, still hinting, and I am flattered. I am. But as the time is slipping past us today, my ardor has certainly cooled. I like Jarmyn, I do, but I can't imagine a repeat of this afternoon.

“But no, I’m not in the habit of luring in near-strangers and offering them my belt and anything else they want.” Now that I nod at. "There's one thing that you should keep in mind if you're going to stay here; Excolo is a strange place. If something seems off, or strange... it is." Is there a nice way of saying my sudden lust for him had to be magically induced? Nah, probably not. "Today, I was out, looking for a gift for my girlfriend, I bumped into you and ... bam! Insta-lust." I explain, then shrug. "Wonder if the holiday taking place in town had any thing to do with it?" Wonder what Glass' take would be, if I ran it by her.

He goes on to explain that sex for him seems to be a thing thats bartered, and he's not in the habit of jumping in bed for the sake of jumping into bed.

“Feel like I’ve had three whiskeys neat on an empty stomach, and I haven’t drunk that much in a year.” His hand is in his hair, and I grin. "Odd town, Excolo. You'll.... you'll get used to it." I offer in comfort, tilting my face to the sun. "At least this has been one of the more fun of the town's little misshaps. The riot sucked, and thank god you missed the mass amnesia. Half the town forgot who they were for half a week. That was it's own little slice of hell."

[jaeresteade.livejournal.com]

I’m glad for the advice he’s giving me about the town. I guess every place is odd in its own way. I’ve been places that seemed stranger than Excolo, where you could taste the darkness running underneath the streets, but all that was just pure human meanness, hidden deep for too long or spread out everywhere trying to be normal. Or in the name of belief in something or protection against something, that can do it too. People can dream up all kinds of ways to make the things they want to do feel right, or at least necessary. Doesn’t feel like too much of that going on here. And that’s not what he’s talking about.

That he’s blaming his attraction to me and, by extension, probably, my attraction to him on the oddity of the town I agree with less. It’s lack of sleep and not quite enough coffee and other people playing with your heart and other organs. Or not playing with them, I guess. That’s what’s wrong with me. If he wants to blame the way he’s feeling on something outside that he can’t see, or the spirit of the day, or whatever, that’s fine by me. Just didn’t think a medical man’d be so superstitious. Not going to say any of that to him, though. Still like this man a lot, because I’ve decided to, because of what he’s done for me and others and for what he’s had done to him. And I still want him to like me, for reasons I’m still figuring out. Not going to blame it on the day.

Have to say something, though, if I can’t say what’s in my head. The amnesia thing he’s talking about sounded damn strange, though, but not uncanny. “Somebody put something in the water? Or did they eat something gone bad?” Guess he’d be the kind of person to know how a thing like that could be done. And maybe why someone would want to do it.

[docconstantine.livejournal.com]

He's listening, but I don't think he's buying my veiled warnings. Granted, I am not being as clear as I can. And he's still looking at me like I am the best thing on the planet. Something is definately up. I am no slouch, but I am no Valmont or Dorian either.

“Somebody put something in the water? Or did they eat something gone bad?” Well, at least he's curious. I find a wall to lean against and take out my cigarettes. Light of and offer him the pack.

"Nope, none of those that anyone has figured. Instant onset... just about noon on Wednesday... and it was done just as abruptly four days later." Take a deep drag, and consider my next words. "Do you believe in things outside the 'norm'? Angels, demons, gods walking about, the supernatural?" I ask him, cocking my head to the side and waiting for an answer.

[jaeresteade.livejournal.com]

Lucian leans up against a wall and pulls out a pack of cigarettes. Offers me one, which I take, because it’s free and it’s him offering. Maybe it’ll stop me talking so much. I cup my hand so he can hold the end of his match to it, and then lean next to him. Don’t know why this feels so nice. Seems the amnesia’s a mystery, but just because no one’s fessed up doesn’t mean you should jump to conclusions.

Then he asks me if I believe in a whole list of things, and I turn my head to look at him, to make sure he’s serious. God, the man smokes like he’s making love to the tobacco. It’s all I can do not to stare at his mouth. Can’t help imagining it sucking on other things. Need to stop that and think of how to answer him. I guess he is serious.

“Yeah, I believe,” I say after a while. “Not as far as to pray to anything.” That’s not strictly true, but as much as I like this man, I really don’t know him that well. “Don’t think they walk around, though. I never saw one.” Heard plenty of people who say they have. Usually people who’ve been drinking a while or who stand to gain something by it. “People get up to enough by themselves without anything spiritual making them do it.” I guess that’s tactful. Maybe he does believe in something, and I don’t want to offend him. But he’s not going to get me to start any time soon.

[docconstantine.livejournal.com]

Ah, a believer who has never seen. That might not last long.

“People get up to enough by themselves without anything spiritual making them do it.”

Ah, a slight dig there at my sudden reluctance to jump him? "They say 'the devil's in the details'." I take a long drag on my smoke and watch the embers flare and settle.

"In Excolo, that is the god's honest truth. Believe what you will, discard the rest, but I speak the truth plain when I say the the greatest source of misery to man walks the streets of Excolo." Another deep drag and then I toss the butt away into the street.

"Don't have to believe me, of course." Shrug a bit and push off the wall. "Hard pill to swallow, as it were. But if nothing else, remember this... if it's too good to be true, than it is, don't trust Kent Whitman for he is NOT who he proclaims to be and keep away from the damn water tower."

Look to the sun, and decide I had better get back to the market and find something for Miao. "Come talk to me again after you've lived here a bit. Ask around for strange stories, believe me, you'll find them, and thanks for one of the more interesting afternoon's I've had in a while."

Give him a smile and wink, and head back to the market.

[jaeresteade.livejournal.com]

Listening to him talk, all I can think about is how much this man must have been hurt, to think the fellow who took Wanda away from him is the devil himself. I want to shut him up with a kiss, and show him that even if I can’t mend his heart or bring her back, I can make the rest of him feel so good that he forgets all about her. But I want to hear him out, since it seems so important to him to tell me all this.

But then he’s looking up and telling me to come talk to him again. So are we done talking now, then, I want to ask, but he’s winking at me and walking away. Have to force myself not to follow him, or call after him, because it doesn’t seem like he’d want me to make a scene. He does want to see me again, I tell myself, feeling cold and tired and hurt all of a sudden.

No gods or devils stirring things up, but something is very, very wrong with me. I don’t chase after men, don’t cherish thoughts of seeing any again just so I can look at them and make them happy. No point in things like that. So why the hell am I pining after this jilted, doomsaying doctor with Gabriel’s hair? I want to put it down to him being the first man in a year who’s hit me the way I wanted him to, but he wouldn’t have gotten the chance to do that if I hadn’t been following him in the first place. I was desperate, but not that much. I hope not that much.

I’m getting stiff leaning here, so I push off the wall and start making my way back to the inn, skirting the market and staying away from people. There’s a sour taste in my mouth now, from more than the cigarette, and too many goddamned questions in my head. Lucien did ease my mind in a whole lot of ways, but he’s messed it up just as much in others. Think he meant to give me something to think about, with all his talk of the oddness of this town, but he got me thinking more about the oddness of my own head.

Wish I had another cigarette. Wish he were back here with the pack so we could share them, maybe talk about something comforting. Or do something comforting. That’s it, I tell myself. I’m stopping thinking about this man right now. Not going to go see him, either, unless I cut my arm off or catch the plague. It’s too much, wanting him like this. Need some sleep, and then some more coffee, and then work to do so I don’t have to think about any of this.