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Realistic or Modern Gone But Not Forgotten
- Thread starter Jupiter
- Start date
DrTrollinski
Don't let the name scare you.
April 3rd, 2017
Washington, Maryland
4:02PM
A reference to the love between Marc and his late wife. Cancer. One day things were okay, and the next day, that stomach ache turned into something much more sinister. That sort of news is never easy to swallow, and when it comes to the point where you can't do anything about it? It's even harder. Every time you meet eyes with that person, you know that there's nothing you can do. You know that their days are limited.
For Marc, that was by far the most painful.
When Eddie kissed his mother goodbye every morning, would that be the last morning he saw her?
When she told him she was going to bed early and kissed him goodnight, would that be the last time his wife would ever kiss him goodnight?
Ultimately, she died peacefully. She said her goodbyes. She said what she needed to say to both her husband and her only son. They were granted at least that - granted that she would go in peace after saying everything she wanted to say to those she loved. But it didn't make her passing any easier. Marc spent the later part of that night with her, and he was the one that heard her very last breath, just after he promised to look after himself, promised that he'd look after Eddie, keep him safe and well. Fed and clothed. It was a promise that gave her that last go-ahead to let go, as much as she didn't want to.
And just like that, she was gone. Now, her memory lived on.
The gentle pats of the rain against his face at the very least covered the tears. Coming to the grave would never be easier. At least Eddie was younger, just on his way into his teen years when she passed - at least he had some chance of emotional recovery.
But he was just Eddie's age when they met. He knew that he'd never get over it. Maybe because he felt he couldn't live without her, or maybe because he felt he hadn't kept his promise as well as he should have.
He brought one arm up and put it around Eddie's shoulder, and used his hand to pull his head in a little closer. With his free hand, he held out the small bunch of orchids. White and purple. They were her favorite flowers. Mother's Day? Orchids.
Anniversary? Orchids.
"Go on, you can put them down this time." He weakly smiled.
At his feet was a plastic bag, of which had a bottle of Italian rosé wine. Italian wine was sweet.
Also her favorite. They'd have some of that before they left.
Washington, Maryland
4:02PM
'Faye Prescott'
'05.22.1975 - 08.10.2015'
'Beloved Mother and Wife'
'Gone, but not forgotten.'
A laminated card was tied to a small wooden pike that was stuck in the ground, and on that card read 'There and back, forever.''05.22.1975 - 08.10.2015'
'Beloved Mother and Wife'
'Gone, but not forgotten.'
A reference to the love between Marc and his late wife. Cancer. One day things were okay, and the next day, that stomach ache turned into something much more sinister. That sort of news is never easy to swallow, and when it comes to the point where you can't do anything about it? It's even harder. Every time you meet eyes with that person, you know that there's nothing you can do. You know that their days are limited.
For Marc, that was by far the most painful.
When Eddie kissed his mother goodbye every morning, would that be the last morning he saw her?
When she told him she was going to bed early and kissed him goodnight, would that be the last time his wife would ever kiss him goodnight?
Ultimately, she died peacefully. She said her goodbyes. She said what she needed to say to both her husband and her only son. They were granted at least that - granted that she would go in peace after saying everything she wanted to say to those she loved. But it didn't make her passing any easier. Marc spent the later part of that night with her, and he was the one that heard her very last breath, just after he promised to look after himself, promised that he'd look after Eddie, keep him safe and well. Fed and clothed. It was a promise that gave her that last go-ahead to let go, as much as she didn't want to.
And just like that, she was gone. Now, her memory lived on.
The gentle pats of the rain against his face at the very least covered the tears. Coming to the grave would never be easier. At least Eddie was younger, just on his way into his teen years when she passed - at least he had some chance of emotional recovery.
But he was just Eddie's age when they met. He knew that he'd never get over it. Maybe because he felt he couldn't live without her, or maybe because he felt he hadn't kept his promise as well as he should have.
He brought one arm up and put it around Eddie's shoulder, and used his hand to pull his head in a little closer. With his free hand, he held out the small bunch of orchids. White and purple. They were her favorite flowers. Mother's Day? Orchids.
Anniversary? Orchids.
"Go on, you can put them down this time." He weakly smiled.
At his feet was a plastic bag, of which had a bottle of Italian rosé wine. Italian wine was sweet.
Also her favorite. They'd have some of that before they left.
Jupiter
Monster Maker
Eddie stared at her grave, a blank and thoughtless stare, but there was more behind it than met the eye, and Marc would know it. He'd know his sons expressions, how all at once he attempted to not be upset, to not show anything, and to not remember, but to remember wholly and completely, and to feel everything. He wasn't good at not showing it, not for long anyway, because slowly but surely the expression on his face cracked and revealed the true, broken son underneath.
The bond between mother and son lasts a lifetime, is what they say.
But they fail to say that lifetimes are only for as long as life actually is, and therefore the bond is cut short when they are. No one would fully understand why it was important to change that quote. Lifetimes are not forever. Eddie wished they were.
It was his eyes that cracked first, and glazed over, looking instead from her name and down to the patch of land in which was dedicated to her, the small trinkets that were their remembrance. A laminated card, and a place where flowers could go. Always refreshed.
When his eyes cracked, the expressionless line that was his mouth turned downward, and he averted his eyes all together, blinking back tears before turning to his father and taking the flowers from his hand.
He knelt down onto the muddy grass, not caring for trivial things like grass stains, like his mother would fuss over until she couldn't quite muster the energy to fuss, and placed the flowers down onto their patch of grass, his hand lingering for a moment on them before he reached forward and ran his pale hand over her name, the dent into the stone of her grave, the only physical thing they had left that could touch, and it was something so cold and hard in comparison to her warmth that she had shed over Eddie's years.
"Miss you." He mumbled, ever so quietly, to the gravestone itself, but really talking to her, wherever she was, if at all. In some way Eddie wished he could believe in God, now, but when she was dying he'd found it so hard that he'd abandoned that belief entirely, for who could possibly believe in a God who would take a mother away from her son, with no just cause? So he didn't believe, and now he didn't know where she was, other than six feet under the earth, decayed and rotted. He didn't like to picture her like that. He'd much sooner picture the cold, wet stone that his fingers lingered on than a rotted corpse, or her dying face. Now all she was to him was a stone.
But at least like that she'd forever be there.
He stood up and shoved his hands into his coat pocket, his hair dripping at the ends onto the tip of his nose. So far, he had nothing to say, so he just stepped slightly closer to his father.
The bond between mother and son lasts a lifetime, is what they say.
But they fail to say that lifetimes are only for as long as life actually is, and therefore the bond is cut short when they are. No one would fully understand why it was important to change that quote. Lifetimes are not forever. Eddie wished they were.
It was his eyes that cracked first, and glazed over, looking instead from her name and down to the patch of land in which was dedicated to her, the small trinkets that were their remembrance. A laminated card, and a place where flowers could go. Always refreshed.
When his eyes cracked, the expressionless line that was his mouth turned downward, and he averted his eyes all together, blinking back tears before turning to his father and taking the flowers from his hand.
He knelt down onto the muddy grass, not caring for trivial things like grass stains, like his mother would fuss over until she couldn't quite muster the energy to fuss, and placed the flowers down onto their patch of grass, his hand lingering for a moment on them before he reached forward and ran his pale hand over her name, the dent into the stone of her grave, the only physical thing they had left that could touch, and it was something so cold and hard in comparison to her warmth that she had shed over Eddie's years.
"Miss you." He mumbled, ever so quietly, to the gravestone itself, but really talking to her, wherever she was, if at all. In some way Eddie wished he could believe in God, now, but when she was dying he'd found it so hard that he'd abandoned that belief entirely, for who could possibly believe in a God who would take a mother away from her son, with no just cause? So he didn't believe, and now he didn't know where she was, other than six feet under the earth, decayed and rotted. He didn't like to picture her like that. He'd much sooner picture the cold, wet stone that his fingers lingered on than a rotted corpse, or her dying face. Now all she was to him was a stone.
But at least like that she'd forever be there.
He stood up and shoved his hands into his coat pocket, his hair dripping at the ends onto the tip of his nose. So far, he had nothing to say, so he just stepped slightly closer to his father.
DrTrollinski
Don't let the name scare you.
When he stepped closer, Marc reached down into the bag by his feet and pulled out the bottle of rosé wine. This one wasn't a weekly tradition, but more of a monthly one. Over the past couple of years, he didn't want to make it a habit. Seeing as Eddie had only really just turned fourteen when she died, he didn't want to encourage weekly drinking while he was still young - back then, the wine was every now and then, not every month. But now it was. He opened the bottle, of which was still half-full from their last visit here.
He lifted it to his mouth and took a couple of mouthfuls from it. Sweet wine. Even the smell of it reminded him of her, but... Hell, the wine was the easiest part. At least it only reminded him of meals out with her, rather than every other holiday. All holidays linked back to those damn orchids in one way or another. At least the wine was more of a subtle thing.
Once he'd had a quick drink, he handed the bottle over to Eddie to allow him to have a couple of mouthfuls, swigs, whatever it may have been in his case.
After Eddie had had his drink, he took the bottle back and held it out over the grave, then poured what was left of it over the dirt, letting it soak in. A drink with mom. It had meaning behind it, at least, and he was careful not to pour it on the trinkets or the flowers, obviously.
He put the empty bottle back in the bag once it was done.
He looked at Eddie, gave a soft sigh, then turned him to face him and pulled him into a hug.
"I miss her, too." He said, quietly, and he rubbed his back. "What's important to remember is that... I suppose she knew what was going to happen, and despite that, she didn't let it get her down. She was happy until her last breath, and we both know that." He said, "It doesn't make it any easier, but it's important to remember that she's watching over us, I'm sure."
He didn't expect or even need a response. Just words that needed to be said, he felt. He patted his son's back a couple of times, and after he pulled away, he offered up a small smile.
"Come on. You wanna' go to that steakhouse we like?" He asked.
Steakhouse. Bar & Grill. It wasn't just steaks. It was just about every type of grilled food you could get, though.
And expensive, but Marc didn't care about that.
He lifted it to his mouth and took a couple of mouthfuls from it. Sweet wine. Even the smell of it reminded him of her, but... Hell, the wine was the easiest part. At least it only reminded him of meals out with her, rather than every other holiday. All holidays linked back to those damn orchids in one way or another. At least the wine was more of a subtle thing.
Once he'd had a quick drink, he handed the bottle over to Eddie to allow him to have a couple of mouthfuls, swigs, whatever it may have been in his case.
After Eddie had had his drink, he took the bottle back and held it out over the grave, then poured what was left of it over the dirt, letting it soak in. A drink with mom. It had meaning behind it, at least, and he was careful not to pour it on the trinkets or the flowers, obviously.
He put the empty bottle back in the bag once it was done.
He looked at Eddie, gave a soft sigh, then turned him to face him and pulled him into a hug.
"I miss her, too." He said, quietly, and he rubbed his back. "What's important to remember is that... I suppose she knew what was going to happen, and despite that, she didn't let it get her down. She was happy until her last breath, and we both know that." He said, "It doesn't make it any easier, but it's important to remember that she's watching over us, I'm sure."
He didn't expect or even need a response. Just words that needed to be said, he felt. He patted his son's back a couple of times, and after he pulled away, he offered up a small smile.
"Come on. You wanna' go to that steakhouse we like?" He asked.
Steakhouse. Bar & Grill. It wasn't just steaks. It was just about every type of grilled food you could get, though.
And expensive, but Marc didn't care about that.
Jupiter
Monster Maker
Eddie grabbed the bottle from his fathers hand, a tradition which, in a way to Eddie, meant nothing and everything. It meant everything because it was another feeble attempt to cling onto the woman who died that happened to be his mother (Eddie wished he could distance it and see her only that way, but the fact of the matter was that she was mom, not mother, a much closer and intimate relationship than the latter), but meant nothing because it was only alcohol, and she wasn't here to enjoy it with them on a much sunnier day doing something much better than clutching at stone straws.
He took a quick swig, not allowing the taste to linger on his tongue before gulping it, much too sweet and sickly, which in itself was another remembrance of her. Or at least, his remembrance. Not that she herself was too sweet, or sickly, but it happened that Eddie only remembered the sweet times, and sadly remembered the sick ones too. His memory of her rosé wine, physically and metaphorically.
In a way, Eddie envied his fathers belief that she was watching over them, and not the sad belief that she was just gone and didn't experience anything anymore. Eddie reckoned that was more the case, and he was still bitter about that fact. Only right now, when the rain acted more as something to feed atmosphere from. During summer days a trip here was less dire. His mother surely preferred the summer, when at least things were blooming and not dead.
He supposed, however, that spring meant rebirth. And that was his optimistic view on this current situation, day and weather, and mother six feet under his own two.
Maybe it was just cold.
Eddie looked at his father when he spoke though, and he nodded his head. Be an optimist, he thought. Eat something.
"Definitely." And, if his mother truly did watch over them, or exist as a part of them still, she existed in the form of Edward Prescott's stomach, growling in agreement that her son definitely needed to eat more food, and if it wasn't going to be a healthy dose of vegetables (she would always complain of his dodging the healthier side of his meals) then it should at least be an expensive, rich, meal.
He turned and looked at her again, and then forced a smile. The curve of emotions, nothing, to everything, to only a little bit better. "Bye, mom."
He took a quick swig, not allowing the taste to linger on his tongue before gulping it, much too sweet and sickly, which in itself was another remembrance of her. Or at least, his remembrance. Not that she herself was too sweet, or sickly, but it happened that Eddie only remembered the sweet times, and sadly remembered the sick ones too. His memory of her rosé wine, physically and metaphorically.
In a way, Eddie envied his fathers belief that she was watching over them, and not the sad belief that she was just gone and didn't experience anything anymore. Eddie reckoned that was more the case, and he was still bitter about that fact. Only right now, when the rain acted more as something to feed atmosphere from. During summer days a trip here was less dire. His mother surely preferred the summer, when at least things were blooming and not dead.
He supposed, however, that spring meant rebirth. And that was his optimistic view on this current situation, day and weather, and mother six feet under his own two.
Maybe it was just cold.
Eddie looked at his father when he spoke though, and he nodded his head. Be an optimist, he thought. Eat something.
"Definitely." And, if his mother truly did watch over them, or exist as a part of them still, she existed in the form of Edward Prescott's stomach, growling in agreement that her son definitely needed to eat more food, and if it wasn't going to be a healthy dose of vegetables (she would always complain of his dodging the healthier side of his meals) then it should at least be an expensive, rich, meal.
He turned and looked at her again, and then forced a smile. The curve of emotions, nothing, to everything, to only a little bit better. "Bye, mom."
DrTrollinski
Don't let the name scare you.
Marc took one final glance down at the grave and sighed. It was such a shame she couldn't come with them, but that was the way it had been for a couple of years now. Him and Eddie. Him and Eddie against all the world and the sadness within it - they could manage, he was sure. There were certain things Marc would never get better at, mind you - he'd never get better at cooking and would continue to order those recipe boxes so he could make food that was half-decent, but from scratch? Nah. He could roast a chicken or a turkey, but you can bet your ass most other stuff he wouldn't manage so well. He'd tried, he really had, but... There was no room left in his head for stuff like that. At least the recipe boxes gave him stuff that Faye wouldn't normally cook. No familiar smells to remind him of the pain they'd experienced.
Hopefully the rain would stop soon. It can't rain all the time, can it?
Physically and metaphorically.
"Alright." He patted him on the shoulder, and with that, off they went to Marc's car. Marc drove a very 'agent' looking vehicle, as it happened. It was a Volskwagen Tiguan, quite a recent model (last year's one) - He didn't exactly have a wife to go on expensive fifty-something honeymoons with anymore, so, cars filled somewhat of the void.
Him and Eddie? Since her death, he'd made sure they went on some awesome vacations. Make new memories, and all that. The first one was the hardest and involved a lot of crying, but since then, the vacations have been nice. Europe, Asia, and Australia. All around the world.
And yes, the first vacation after she died? Eddie's best buddy got an invite to that one, just to help keep spirits up. Greece was nice that time of year, anyway.
The car, though...
Only his was pure white with black leather seats. It had 'fed' written all over it, which was no doubt a running joke at school between friends and Eddie himself - anyone with a dad who's a 'narc' gets a joke like that now and again.
He drove from the parking lot and whacked the heated chairs on, too, so they at least had somewhat of a chance to dry off on the twenty-minute drive over to where they'd be eating. It was a nice place, modern, relaxed - it wasn't a sport bar, either, so there were no soccer and football fans screaming every five minutes. They had TV, but there was usually only darts and pool playing. Unless it was a big event like the national football games or a big baseball one. A modern bar with great (and expensive) food. The tenderloin was good. Then again, all the food there was good.
In they went, table for two - their usual spot in the corner by the window, at one of the booths.
Perfect.
"And here we are." He dropped into his seat with a deep breath and a smile. He slid one menu over to Eddie. "I've been at work a lot recently. Let's catch up." He said, "How's school going? And Milo, how's he?" He asked.
The waiter soon came over and took orders for drinks.
Hopefully the rain would stop soon. It can't rain all the time, can it?
Physically and metaphorically.
"Alright." He patted him on the shoulder, and with that, off they went to Marc's car. Marc drove a very 'agent' looking vehicle, as it happened. It was a Volskwagen Tiguan, quite a recent model (last year's one) - He didn't exactly have a wife to go on expensive fifty-something honeymoons with anymore, so, cars filled somewhat of the void.
Him and Eddie? Since her death, he'd made sure they went on some awesome vacations. Make new memories, and all that. The first one was the hardest and involved a lot of crying, but since then, the vacations have been nice. Europe, Asia, and Australia. All around the world.
And yes, the first vacation after she died? Eddie's best buddy got an invite to that one, just to help keep spirits up. Greece was nice that time of year, anyway.
The car, though...
He drove from the parking lot and whacked the heated chairs on, too, so they at least had somewhat of a chance to dry off on the twenty-minute drive over to where they'd be eating. It was a nice place, modern, relaxed - it wasn't a sport bar, either, so there were no soccer and football fans screaming every five minutes. They had TV, but there was usually only darts and pool playing. Unless it was a big event like the national football games or a big baseball one. A modern bar with great (and expensive) food. The tenderloin was good. Then again, all the food there was good.
In they went, table for two - their usual spot in the corner by the window, at one of the booths.
Perfect.
"And here we are." He dropped into his seat with a deep breath and a smile. He slid one menu over to Eddie. "I've been at work a lot recently. Let's catch up." He said, "How's school going? And Milo, how's he?" He asked.
The waiter soon came over and took orders for drinks.
Jupiter
Monster Maker
The time at school... Well. It was what it was. Eddie kept his head down. He used to be cool, in middle school, early middle school, before his mom died, because then his father was a field agent, he was someone that Eddie could tell cool stories about and the boys who liked superheroes would listen, because surely Eddie's father was a superhero if he'd done so much cool stuff. But after the job changed and Eddie's mom got sick, Eddie stopped telling the stories, and went under the radar.
Now, a bully at school would find anything they could to pick on you about. Your father, a narc. No fun. And no mom. And you're tall, skinny, slightly unkempt hair, and you only have one friend who is absolutely one of the nerdiest kids in school, the two of you are an unimaginably easy pair of targets.
And yet life goes on.
For Eddie, at least.
And life at the moment was a steakhouse, inside, out of the rain.
By now they must have been regulars. Eddie couldn't think of a visit to her grave that didn't end in going to this place, because who really wanted to cook when you were mourning, even if only for a day? No, you made someone else cook for you, and you sat and ate and slowly regained life back into you because of warm food that she definitely didn't make. Steak was the new Spring season.
He dropped into his own seat, and leaned back, taking a deep breath and exhaling thoughts of his mother. Time to be back in the present. He didn't even need to look at the menu. "It's okay. Jobs are priorities sometimes, and we have these nights, anyway." Not nights where they went to the grave, just nights they spent together in general. He mulled over the question.
"School is as it is. The same as life. It is as it is. Shitty with a side of laughs." He shrugged his shoulders, then cracked a smile. "I'm joking. Slightly. School's a bit... Meh. Whatever, I'm passing all my classes, and I haven't had an incident with a pencil sharpener for like, twenty days now, so, I hope I'm not the only one who's impressed, here. And Milo, well, school Milo is meh, he is on the same line as me except I think he's failing Mister Webster's History class, and probably Math, but home Milo is home Milo. He's fine."
When the waiter came over for drinks, Eddie smiled, sweetly. "Just a whole pint'a the strongest ale. Or a coke. Whichever is for under 21's."
Now, a bully at school would find anything they could to pick on you about. Your father, a narc. No fun. And no mom. And you're tall, skinny, slightly unkempt hair, and you only have one friend who is absolutely one of the nerdiest kids in school, the two of you are an unimaginably easy pair of targets.
And yet life goes on.
For Eddie, at least.
And life at the moment was a steakhouse, inside, out of the rain.
By now they must have been regulars. Eddie couldn't think of a visit to her grave that didn't end in going to this place, because who really wanted to cook when you were mourning, even if only for a day? No, you made someone else cook for you, and you sat and ate and slowly regained life back into you because of warm food that she definitely didn't make. Steak was the new Spring season.
He dropped into his own seat, and leaned back, taking a deep breath and exhaling thoughts of his mother. Time to be back in the present. He didn't even need to look at the menu. "It's okay. Jobs are priorities sometimes, and we have these nights, anyway." Not nights where they went to the grave, just nights they spent together in general. He mulled over the question.
"School is as it is. The same as life. It is as it is. Shitty with a side of laughs." He shrugged his shoulders, then cracked a smile. "I'm joking. Slightly. School's a bit... Meh. Whatever, I'm passing all my classes, and I haven't had an incident with a pencil sharpener for like, twenty days now, so, I hope I'm not the only one who's impressed, here. And Milo, well, school Milo is meh, he is on the same line as me except I think he's failing Mister Webster's History class, and probably Math, but home Milo is home Milo. He's fine."
When the waiter came over for drinks, Eddie smiled, sweetly. "Just a whole pint'a the strongest ale. Or a coke. Whichever is for under 21's."
DrTrollinski
Don't let the name scare you.
The waiter looked at Eddie, "Nice try, kid." He winked, "One large soda, and for you, Marc?"
"I'm feeling a little on the metrosexual side tonight. Hit me with a Tom Collins." He joked.
The waiter laughed, "Heh, sure, sure. Coming right up."
Marc watched him for a moment until his back was turned and he'd walked off, and then he looked back to Eddie. "Eh, that's school, though. Same shit, different day." He said. "Should have seen my high school days - that was back when drugs were actually cool." He smirked, "If you could have seen those house parties in the late eighties, early nineties. Oh my." He shook his head, "That was back way before people started giving a shit, believe me." He said. "I guess I was one of the cool kids. But I was nice enough." He said, "Then I went to college and quickly realized it didn't matter how popular you were in high school - If you tried too hard to stand out, you got beaten straight back into place. Gave other people trouble? Jesus, you got slaughtered for it. Professional places, for the most part." He shrugged.
"Don't worry about my work - I'm almost at the tail end of all the action. I'll be home a lot more before too long." He smiled, "I'm surprised to hear Milo's failing classes, though. Everything okay with him, definitely? Nothing going on at home? He always came off as really smart to me." He said. "But not as smart as you, of course." He winked.
The waiter came back and set Eddie's soda down, and Marc's cocktail.
"You guys thinking of going to college? Gonna' leave your old man to fend for himself for a few years?" He asked, smirking.
"I'm feeling a little on the metrosexual side tonight. Hit me with a Tom Collins." He joked.
The waiter laughed, "Heh, sure, sure. Coming right up."
Marc watched him for a moment until his back was turned and he'd walked off, and then he looked back to Eddie. "Eh, that's school, though. Same shit, different day." He said. "Should have seen my high school days - that was back when drugs were actually cool." He smirked, "If you could have seen those house parties in the late eighties, early nineties. Oh my." He shook his head, "That was back way before people started giving a shit, believe me." He said. "I guess I was one of the cool kids. But I was nice enough." He said, "Then I went to college and quickly realized it didn't matter how popular you were in high school - If you tried too hard to stand out, you got beaten straight back into place. Gave other people trouble? Jesus, you got slaughtered for it. Professional places, for the most part." He shrugged.
"Don't worry about my work - I'm almost at the tail end of all the action. I'll be home a lot more before too long." He smiled, "I'm surprised to hear Milo's failing classes, though. Everything okay with him, definitely? Nothing going on at home? He always came off as really smart to me." He said. "But not as smart as you, of course." He winked.
The waiter came back and set Eddie's soda down, and Marc's cocktail.
"You guys thinking of going to college? Gonna' leave your old man to fend for himself for a few years?" He asked, smirking.
Jupiter
Monster Maker
"No way were you a kid in the nineties or eighties. No damn way. You're way too old." Eddie poked his finger toward him across the table and smirked. "Old man like you was at least in school during the sixties or somethin'." He joked. "Nor were you a cool kid. No one who says they're feeling Metrosexual was a cool kid. Whatever it even means."
He leaned back in his chair and quietly observed for a moment. There was a family a few tables away, a woman with a man, and her son, only young, though, and definitely hers because they had the same ginger hair. He looked away, and back at Marc. "Milo isn't failing classes. I was lying." Eddie shrugged.
"He's a nerd. I tried to make him seem more rugged. But ya' really know the true him." Eddie smiled again, putting it back on. "He is smart. I'm not smart. I don't know tomata' from tomata'. Nor do I need to. I'll sail through college on a scholarship or something, get a job far away from where the action happens." He smiled. "I mean, we all need our fair share of luck, and I had my miserable side, therefore that's all that can be left to even it out, judging by like, measurements... Of something."
He went quiet as the drinks were delivered, and then leaned forward, sipped his drink from a straw, and looked at his father. "Milo will go to college and become a fancy accountant, like his dad, or something... Like, not like his dad, like a photographer. And I... I dunno. Maybe I'll follow in your footsteps and be a super- be an agent."
When Eddie was younger, he used to call his dad a superhero. Because it was true, wasn't it? Definitely.
"How would that make you feel... If I did what you used to?"
He leaned back in his chair and quietly observed for a moment. There was a family a few tables away, a woman with a man, and her son, only young, though, and definitely hers because they had the same ginger hair. He looked away, and back at Marc. "Milo isn't failing classes. I was lying." Eddie shrugged.
"He's a nerd. I tried to make him seem more rugged. But ya' really know the true him." Eddie smiled again, putting it back on. "He is smart. I'm not smart. I don't know tomata' from tomata'. Nor do I need to. I'll sail through college on a scholarship or something, get a job far away from where the action happens." He smiled. "I mean, we all need our fair share of luck, and I had my miserable side, therefore that's all that can be left to even it out, judging by like, measurements... Of something."
He went quiet as the drinks were delivered, and then leaned forward, sipped his drink from a straw, and looked at his father. "Milo will go to college and become a fancy accountant, like his dad, or something... Like, not like his dad, like a photographer. And I... I dunno. Maybe I'll follow in your footsteps and be a super- be an agent."
When Eddie was younger, he used to call his dad a superhero. Because it was true, wasn't it? Definitely.
"How would that make you feel... If I did what you used to?"
DrTrollinski
Don't let the name scare you.
"Now, now, you gotta' go easy on me. I invented 'cool' in my school, son, and you'd best not forget that." He said, "You've got the coolest dad known to mankind - and I may be old, but there's a lot of energy left in me. I could still pull some of my ninja tricks and take down every guy on the high school football team if I wanted to - I'd put money on it." He smirked.
"Now, with Milo, there ain't nothing wrong with being the smart guy. I mean, just look at me and you, right?" He said. "Believe me, being the smart guy? Smart is the sexiest trait you can have nowadays. You're smart, I'm smart, Milo's smart - The only difference is, you're nearly 30 years younger than me, so you've got an advantage. You've probably got girls coming at you guys from all angles, like... Like when Brad Pitt walks into a house party." He shrugged, "I'm sure you'll do fine, though. Don't rely on any scholarships - best thing to do is just make sure you secure a spot and then have the scholarship on the side." He said. "We don't need to worry about any misery. It'll all work itself out, it always does." He smiled.
He looked into his drink when he spoke about colleges, following in his footsteps... It was nice.
"I'd love to see you follow in my footsteps. Any dad would like to see that in his son." He said, "You could easily get a spot that doesn't focus on the action." He said, "Even if you just helped with the bigger operations, worked on the intelligence. Hell, I think you'd pull it off. And with me being who I am, I could put in a personal recommendation - I mean, you met the Assistant Deputy Director at a dinner party, for god's sake. I'm pretty sure he'd be happy to give a reference, too." He chuckled.
"Hey," He nudged him, "You remember when you were a kid? I put a little case together for you to solve. We worked on it together. Sure, nothing official, but it was as genuine as I could make it. You loved that." He said, "Did something similar with you and Milo when you guys started middle school, too - gave you something to wow the other kids with." He said, "Good times. Just picture doing all that for real." He leaned back and sipped his drink, "Those were the days, I tell you. I'd love to do all of that again, but, you're a bit too old for all that now." He smirked, "But if I ever get anything good? You're just about old enough for me to let you read some case notes, as long as you don't tell anyone about them. If you tell anyone, I'd have to kill you." He winked.
"Ah, right, on the back of what I said a minute ago... There anyone at school you're interested in?" He asked. "Handsome kid like you? There must be at least a couple of admirers you know of. Or, let me guess, you and Milo aren't 'cool enough' for that, right?" His grin grew a tiny bit.
"Now, with Milo, there ain't nothing wrong with being the smart guy. I mean, just look at me and you, right?" He said. "Believe me, being the smart guy? Smart is the sexiest trait you can have nowadays. You're smart, I'm smart, Milo's smart - The only difference is, you're nearly 30 years younger than me, so you've got an advantage. You've probably got girls coming at you guys from all angles, like... Like when Brad Pitt walks into a house party." He shrugged, "I'm sure you'll do fine, though. Don't rely on any scholarships - best thing to do is just make sure you secure a spot and then have the scholarship on the side." He said. "We don't need to worry about any misery. It'll all work itself out, it always does." He smiled.
He looked into his drink when he spoke about colleges, following in his footsteps... It was nice.
"I'd love to see you follow in my footsteps. Any dad would like to see that in his son." He said, "You could easily get a spot that doesn't focus on the action." He said, "Even if you just helped with the bigger operations, worked on the intelligence. Hell, I think you'd pull it off. And with me being who I am, I could put in a personal recommendation - I mean, you met the Assistant Deputy Director at a dinner party, for god's sake. I'm pretty sure he'd be happy to give a reference, too." He chuckled.
"Hey," He nudged him, "You remember when you were a kid? I put a little case together for you to solve. We worked on it together. Sure, nothing official, but it was as genuine as I could make it. You loved that." He said, "Did something similar with you and Milo when you guys started middle school, too - gave you something to wow the other kids with." He said, "Good times. Just picture doing all that for real." He leaned back and sipped his drink, "Those were the days, I tell you. I'd love to do all of that again, but, you're a bit too old for all that now." He smirked, "But if I ever get anything good? You're just about old enough for me to let you read some case notes, as long as you don't tell anyone about them. If you tell anyone, I'd have to kill you." He winked.
"Ah, right, on the back of what I said a minute ago... There anyone at school you're interested in?" He asked. "Handsome kid like you? There must be at least a couple of admirers you know of. Or, let me guess, you and Milo aren't 'cool enough' for that, right?" His grin grew a tiny bit.
Jupiter
Monster Maker
"Yeah yeah yeah, sure, you invented cool in your school, but no other school on the history of the planet. You're crazy. I for one know I would have been one of the kids that would have defined cool, and still am, in this day and age, but... It's only Milo that really sees it. The seeing of being smart, and all." Eddie grinned.
When his father talked about being smart, Eddie cringed. "Did you just basically call me sexy? Father, at least take me to dinner-" He glanced around. "Rats. This was all a ploy, wasn't it? Now sir, I will have you know I ain't into guys like you-" He pointed across the table at his father, but after receiving a few looks from the neighbouring table, he lowered his hand and placed it flat on the table. "Smart is good. Smart is... Good."
He leaned back and smiled slightly.
And, in a way, Eddie was glad that his father wouldn't mind if his son went in his footsteps, but he wasn't sure he wanted to. Not yet, at least. He was caught in that age, where he wanted to make his father proud, and he did like what Marc did, but he didn't think he could muster the kind of courage or guts to do that kind of thing. And it was different, when you were involved in the solving of the crime, as opposed to hearing about it. It's different hearing about a murder and watching it on TV, watching the case progress, and actually... Seeing it, in front of you.
He wasn't so sure. Yet.
"Maybe I'll be an agent." He shrugged. "Or a painter. Someone who runs away from the world and lives without technology, kinda' lives in a forest with a bunch of other hooligans who want to get off the grid. But I'm not so good at painting. Maybe I'll be an engineer. The world is my oyster, I suppose. When I decide."
"And, like, I mean..." He gave it a bit of thought before he continued. "The act of false cases was fun, but when it's real, I bet it's different, right? Like... You know. Seeing some horrible stuff." He bit his lip. "I remember you used to have to fly all over the country, occasionally. I prefer it like now." He shrugged.
When his father asked about girls, Eddie blushed a deep red and glanced out of the window at a passing car. "Uh..."
Saved by the bell. At least momentarily. Food orders were to be made.
"Yeah, I'll uh... Get barbecue chicken wings to start, and then like... I guess I'll have the rump steak, rare." He shrugged, and smiled down at his menu before sliding it along towards the waiter to take with him.
When his father talked about being smart, Eddie cringed. "Did you just basically call me sexy? Father, at least take me to dinner-" He glanced around. "Rats. This was all a ploy, wasn't it? Now sir, I will have you know I ain't into guys like you-" He pointed across the table at his father, but after receiving a few looks from the neighbouring table, he lowered his hand and placed it flat on the table. "Smart is good. Smart is... Good."
He leaned back and smiled slightly.
And, in a way, Eddie was glad that his father wouldn't mind if his son went in his footsteps, but he wasn't sure he wanted to. Not yet, at least. He was caught in that age, where he wanted to make his father proud, and he did like what Marc did, but he didn't think he could muster the kind of courage or guts to do that kind of thing. And it was different, when you were involved in the solving of the crime, as opposed to hearing about it. It's different hearing about a murder and watching it on TV, watching the case progress, and actually... Seeing it, in front of you.
He wasn't so sure. Yet.
"Maybe I'll be an agent." He shrugged. "Or a painter. Someone who runs away from the world and lives without technology, kinda' lives in a forest with a bunch of other hooligans who want to get off the grid. But I'm not so good at painting. Maybe I'll be an engineer. The world is my oyster, I suppose. When I decide."
"And, like, I mean..." He gave it a bit of thought before he continued. "The act of false cases was fun, but when it's real, I bet it's different, right? Like... You know. Seeing some horrible stuff." He bit his lip. "I remember you used to have to fly all over the country, occasionally. I prefer it like now." He shrugged.
When his father asked about girls, Eddie blushed a deep red and glanced out of the window at a passing car. "Uh..."
Saved by the bell. At least momentarily. Food orders were to be made.
"Yeah, I'll uh... Get barbecue chicken wings to start, and then like... I guess I'll have the rump steak, rare." He shrugged, and smiled down at his menu before sliding it along towards the waiter to take with him.
DrTrollinski
Don't let the name scare you.
"I'll go for the things as well, and then a tenderloin, medium-rare." Marc nodded.
"Thank you." The waiter finished scribbling all that down and took off to hand the order into the kitchen.
Saved by the damn bell. Lucky. But they were still going to be here for a while, weren't they? Marc looked at Eddie for a moment, then decided to pull a quick subject change, "Of course the real stuff is different, but, not too much different. I mean, the one I gave you and Milo, that was as close as I could get it to a real one, I just didn't leave anything that'd be scarring in there." He said, "Yeah, sure, you see some shit. But generally? If you work behind the front lines, you only get the details. You don't always see it right in front of you. I wouldn't worry, though - you and I? We're mentally strong enough to handle all of that stuff."
He thought, "The worst job I think someone can have? Drone controllers. I've got people who work with me who used to do that with the army. He said that if the CIA or one of the majors came in and said they had to airstrike a public place in the middle east, kill 40 innocent people just to kill one target, you had to do it. You had to do it and confirm the kill, too, so you had to watch it until the very end." He said, "The moment he quit was when he was made to airstrike a house with a terrorist hotshot in there, but his whole family was in there, too - a common tactic of terrorists is using women and children as a mask to hide from the drone scanning and whatnot." He sighed.
"That's just the thing, Eddie... At least in this job, the only time you ever have to make a big decision like that, it is your decision. You choose to pull the trigger or say the code word - There isn't anyone who can force you to do it." He said. "So, yeah, you get met with moral conflicts in real cases - you see things you don't want to see, but at the end of the day? If you want to choose to leave it at the door when you leave work, you can. It doesn't sound like the sort of job where you can do that, but it really is."
He looked at him and smiled a tiny bit, "Plus, I know from experience that you look good in a suit. You'd fit right in - get some aviators and you'd be climbing the ladder in no time." He chuckled. "Anyway, I got cut off. You went all red in the face when I asked, which means one thing - There's someone there that you like, or you've been told that someone else likes you. So come on, spill. Am I gonna' come home one evening and find I'll be cooking dinner for three instead of two?" He asked.
"Thank you." The waiter finished scribbling all that down and took off to hand the order into the kitchen.
Saved by the damn bell. Lucky. But they were still going to be here for a while, weren't they? Marc looked at Eddie for a moment, then decided to pull a quick subject change, "Of course the real stuff is different, but, not too much different. I mean, the one I gave you and Milo, that was as close as I could get it to a real one, I just didn't leave anything that'd be scarring in there." He said, "Yeah, sure, you see some shit. But generally? If you work behind the front lines, you only get the details. You don't always see it right in front of you. I wouldn't worry, though - you and I? We're mentally strong enough to handle all of that stuff."
He thought, "The worst job I think someone can have? Drone controllers. I've got people who work with me who used to do that with the army. He said that if the CIA or one of the majors came in and said they had to airstrike a public place in the middle east, kill 40 innocent people just to kill one target, you had to do it. You had to do it and confirm the kill, too, so you had to watch it until the very end." He said, "The moment he quit was when he was made to airstrike a house with a terrorist hotshot in there, but his whole family was in there, too - a common tactic of terrorists is using women and children as a mask to hide from the drone scanning and whatnot." He sighed.
"That's just the thing, Eddie... At least in this job, the only time you ever have to make a big decision like that, it is your decision. You choose to pull the trigger or say the code word - There isn't anyone who can force you to do it." He said. "So, yeah, you get met with moral conflicts in real cases - you see things you don't want to see, but at the end of the day? If you want to choose to leave it at the door when you leave work, you can. It doesn't sound like the sort of job where you can do that, but it really is."
He looked at him and smiled a tiny bit, "Plus, I know from experience that you look good in a suit. You'd fit right in - get some aviators and you'd be climbing the ladder in no time." He chuckled. "Anyway, I got cut off. You went all red in the face when I asked, which means one thing - There's someone there that you like, or you've been told that someone else likes you. So come on, spill. Am I gonna' come home one evening and find I'll be cooking dinner for three instead of two?" He asked.
Jupiter
Monster Maker
"I fucking hate aviators." Eddie groaned. Of all the things he chose to pick up from that snippet of the conversation, the bit about aviators was his first stop. "And I hate the idea of having to kill or, like, see someone die... Or be involved in that kind of thing. I mean, I like the idea of solving crimes and helping people and trying to make the world a better place, I'm sure that that kind of thing is great and you have to sort of look at your kind of job that way, I think, or else you get stuck on the bad stuff and then you just don't wanna live, but... You know. Pros and cons."
"If I wanna save lives, I could just become a doctor. They don't have to wear aviators." He patted the table with his palm triumphantly and grinned. Problem solved.
He went slightly red again. "No. Nothing like that. The only time you'll come home and have to cook a meal for three is if Milo decides that day is a good day to nerd out with me and watch some shit like Black Mirror." He shrugged his shoulders. "I mean... There are people, you know, at school, you can look of them and sort of get like the idea that you're supposed to have a crush on someone like that, and I'm not one of those people. I mean, I don't think that being cool makes you someone who can easily be crushed on, I mean you always see the movies where the hot guy gets the nerdy girl or vice versa, so it's not like I'm off limits or anything, but..."
"I'm more of a target for being laughed at than laughed with." He smiled.
He leaned forward and lowered his voice, however. "That said, I've heard rumours about this freshman girl who has a crush on me, heard it through the grapevine, but, y'know, she ain't really my type, and I'm not going for the first person who shows interest."
He was lying through his teeth the whole time.
"If I wanna save lives, I could just become a doctor. They don't have to wear aviators." He patted the table with his palm triumphantly and grinned. Problem solved.
He went slightly red again. "No. Nothing like that. The only time you'll come home and have to cook a meal for three is if Milo decides that day is a good day to nerd out with me and watch some shit like Black Mirror." He shrugged his shoulders. "I mean... There are people, you know, at school, you can look of them and sort of get like the idea that you're supposed to have a crush on someone like that, and I'm not one of those people. I mean, I don't think that being cool makes you someone who can easily be crushed on, I mean you always see the movies where the hot guy gets the nerdy girl or vice versa, so it's not like I'm off limits or anything, but..."
"I'm more of a target for being laughed at than laughed with." He smiled.
He leaned forward and lowered his voice, however. "That said, I've heard rumours about this freshman girl who has a crush on me, heard it through the grapevine, but, y'know, she ain't really my type, and I'm not going for the first person who shows interest."
He was lying through his teeth the whole time.
DrTrollinski
Don't let the name scare you.
"Aw, come on. Don't talk like that. You'll make me feel bad." He said, "You're no reason to laugh at someone, son, so whoever's laughing at you needs to check where their head's at." He said, "So what, you get good grades and you hang around with someone who, in other kids' books, would be a 'nerd' - big deal." He said, "At the end of the day, Milo's a genuine friend and he won't mess you around for the sake of pleasing someone else. I can tell you that straight away. Even whenever he does fall in love, he's not going to cut the line with you." He said. "The kids that are making the effort to make fun of you guys? Bah." He waved a hand, "They're the fake it 'til you make it types." He said. "And more often than not? They don't make it." He chuckled.
"I was always worried I wouldn't meet someone. I was one of the kids that was 'cool', sure, but I wasn't an idiot. I knew when to step away and focus on classes, and I knew when it was right to party. Despite all that and all the friends I made, I never thought I'd fall in love." He said, "But then I met your mom - she basically came out of nowhere." He said, "And the first thing that I did when I spoke to her? I sneezed in her face. Right as she was walking by. It was by far the most embarrassing thing..." He laughed and looked into his glass, rotating it so the liquid inside was spinning slowly.
"I won't lie, I thought she was going to punch me in the balls and storm away. I couldn't apologize enough." He said, "But I suppose in that moment we sort of clicked in the strangest of ways, and that was it. First date was two days later on a warm Saturday night." He smiled, weakly. "And the rest is history - and now you're here, too." He laughed, still looking into his glass. He took a sip.
"You'll meet someone, son, be it a conveniently placed freshman girl or a girl you accidental smack down in the middle of a sports class. You'll be fine, so just make sure you enjoy it." He said. "In all honesty... As long as you meet someone, you're happy, have some kids of your own... I'll be okay." He nodded, but he did smile, too. "Washington's a big place, and we're not going anywhere. We've got all the time in the world to worry about that."
"I was always worried I wouldn't meet someone. I was one of the kids that was 'cool', sure, but I wasn't an idiot. I knew when to step away and focus on classes, and I knew when it was right to party. Despite all that and all the friends I made, I never thought I'd fall in love." He said, "But then I met your mom - she basically came out of nowhere." He said, "And the first thing that I did when I spoke to her? I sneezed in her face. Right as she was walking by. It was by far the most embarrassing thing..." He laughed and looked into his glass, rotating it so the liquid inside was spinning slowly.
"I won't lie, I thought she was going to punch me in the balls and storm away. I couldn't apologize enough." He said, "But I suppose in that moment we sort of clicked in the strangest of ways, and that was it. First date was two days later on a warm Saturday night." He smiled, weakly. "And the rest is history - and now you're here, too." He laughed, still looking into his glass. He took a sip.
"You'll meet someone, son, be it a conveniently placed freshman girl or a girl you accidental smack down in the middle of a sports class. You'll be fine, so just make sure you enjoy it." He said. "In all honesty... As long as you meet someone, you're happy, have some kids of your own... I'll be okay." He nodded, but he did smile, too. "Washington's a big place, and we're not going anywhere. We've got all the time in the world to worry about that."
Jupiter
Monster Maker
"Yeah, yeah, yeah." Eddie waved a dismissive hand. He'd been dismissing a lot, lately. Not in a bad way, but just something that he himself had noticed. "Don't feel sorry for me, I definitely don't. And I don't really care about them anyway, any of the people at school. I got the one genuine one back in middle school, therefore I'm winning, until I can move away and everyone else grows up." He shrugged his shoulders. "I'm getting far away from them, even if it's not in a physical sense."
Oh, you'd be surprised, Edward.
"I'm not worried I won't meet someone, either. I mean, everyone meets someone, even platonically, and some of the best things can be platonic, I'm sure, like the things I have right now, and I'm happy like this, too." He smiled.
He leaned back for a moment and then sighed. Change the subject, he was tired of lying. "So, we have this big project coming up, in biology. We have to make some kind of big powerpoint on some like function of the human body. A lot of the boys in the class joked about doing a certain thing." He raised his eyebrows. "And then some of the girls are doing about the menstrual cycle and things, but me and Milo, we want to do something deeper than that, so we're wanting to look into something like... Beyond a basic bodily function that happens on the regular, you know what I mean?"
Oh, you'd be surprised, Edward.
"I'm not worried I won't meet someone, either. I mean, everyone meets someone, even platonically, and some of the best things can be platonic, I'm sure, like the things I have right now, and I'm happy like this, too." He smiled.
He leaned back for a moment and then sighed. Change the subject, he was tired of lying. "So, we have this big project coming up, in biology. We have to make some kind of big powerpoint on some like function of the human body. A lot of the boys in the class joked about doing a certain thing." He raised his eyebrows. "And then some of the girls are doing about the menstrual cycle and things, but me and Milo, we want to do something deeper than that, so we're wanting to look into something like... Beyond a basic bodily function that happens on the regular, you know what I mean?"
DrTrollinski
Don't let the name scare you.
"Huh, fair enough." Marc nodded. "Could always do a presentation on the bones." He said, "300 when you're born, 206 when you're older as the bones fuse together." He said. "You lose 94 bones in the course of your life, in theory." He laughed. "Either that, or... Hm. Well, something unique, you could always go down the mental route." He said, "That's always a safe bet if you want to touch on something a little more unique. Or hearing. Hearing is interesting, and how we're always hearing different sounds, even when we sleep, but the brain chooses to ignore them at that point. In most cases, at least. If someone set off a gun next to your head while you were sleeping I'm pretty sure you'd wake up." He laughed. "But there's a lot of interesting things the body can do - and the brain." He said.
"Or maybe dreaming. You know, this is an interesting one, pregnant women are more likely to dream about frogs, worms, and potted plants. Would you believe that?" He chuckled, "Mom never really dreamed at all, so I can't say I know from experience, but apparently those dreams are really common during pregnancy." He said, "Your sense of smell cuts off when sleeping, you're more likely to dream if you're in a cold room - I know a load of trivia about the human body. I loved biology as I was growing up." He said. "And here's an interesting one from the dark corners of the FBI..." He winked, just to show he was joking. "It only takes 7 pounds of pressure to rip your ear clean off your head."
Yeah, he didn't ever torture people.
Not as far as Eddie knew, anyway.
The appetizers were brought over to the table and placed down in front of them.
Ah, finally. This was very much needed.
Marc got his knife and fork but also put his keys down on the table, "You know the way back from here. Want to drive us home tonight?" He asked. "Show me that all my lessons have paid off in some way? How about it?" He said, "You can even try and reverse onto the driveway this time." He smirked.
"Or maybe dreaming. You know, this is an interesting one, pregnant women are more likely to dream about frogs, worms, and potted plants. Would you believe that?" He chuckled, "Mom never really dreamed at all, so I can't say I know from experience, but apparently those dreams are really common during pregnancy." He said, "Your sense of smell cuts off when sleeping, you're more likely to dream if you're in a cold room - I know a load of trivia about the human body. I loved biology as I was growing up." He said. "And here's an interesting one from the dark corners of the FBI..." He winked, just to show he was joking. "It only takes 7 pounds of pressure to rip your ear clean off your head."
Yeah, he didn't ever torture people.
Not as far as Eddie knew, anyway.
The appetizers were brought over to the table and placed down in front of them.
Ah, finally. This was very much needed.
Marc got his knife and fork but also put his keys down on the table, "You know the way back from here. Want to drive us home tonight?" He asked. "Show me that all my lessons have paid off in some way? How about it?" He said, "You can even try and reverse onto the driveway this time." He smirked.
Jupiter
Monster Maker
"Nah, bones are boring. And we were going to do something on mental health, but then we'd just get the shit kicked out of us for being 'pussies' or something like that." He shrugged. "No one really talks about depression or anything in school, and the ones that do are outcasted and weird because they're not happy or the norm." He shrugged. Would he know? Well, yes, when his mother was sick he wasn't exactly the happiest. Milo stuck by him, though. Milo knew all about that kind of thing.
"Hearing is quite cool, too." He shrugged. "We were thinking maybe things like bodily response, so response to hearing is cool, pain, things like that. But more response to like, fear, and how the bodies work in conjunction with emotions like love and sadness, and those kinds of effects. It's a broad spectrum, that way." He shrugged. "Milo came up with it, really. Well, he didn't come up with it, because it's already a known thing, but it's pretty cool how there's actual physical effects on the body when we're feeling certain things." He smiled.
When the appetisers were put down, Eddie began to tuck in almost straight away with his fingers. No one ate barbecue chicken wings with a knife and fork, they were definitely finger foods. "Uh... Sure." He glanced at the keys and back at Marc. "But if anything happens on the road, then I'm blaming it on the gulp of rosé wine, so it's really not my fault if I crash when I reverse into a window or something." He laughed.
"But I'll do it. Sure. You'll have to bare with me, though, I have a feeling tonight isn't my night."
He took a few sips of his drink through the straw, his fingers still holding the chicken wing, greasy and covered in barbecue sauce, now, like a five year old who had to be the messiest eater out of all of his friends, coming back after recess covered in animal crackers and, wait, where did they even get the sandwich that was stuck in their hair in pieces?
Eddie smiled at Marc. "So. Working on anything interesting, lately?"
"Hearing is quite cool, too." He shrugged. "We were thinking maybe things like bodily response, so response to hearing is cool, pain, things like that. But more response to like, fear, and how the bodies work in conjunction with emotions like love and sadness, and those kinds of effects. It's a broad spectrum, that way." He shrugged. "Milo came up with it, really. Well, he didn't come up with it, because it's already a known thing, but it's pretty cool how there's actual physical effects on the body when we're feeling certain things." He smiled.
When the appetisers were put down, Eddie began to tuck in almost straight away with his fingers. No one ate barbecue chicken wings with a knife and fork, they were definitely finger foods. "Uh... Sure." He glanced at the keys and back at Marc. "But if anything happens on the road, then I'm blaming it on the gulp of rosé wine, so it's really not my fault if I crash when I reverse into a window or something." He laughed.
"But I'll do it. Sure. You'll have to bare with me, though, I have a feeling tonight isn't my night."
He took a few sips of his drink through the straw, his fingers still holding the chicken wing, greasy and covered in barbecue sauce, now, like a five year old who had to be the messiest eater out of all of his friends, coming back after recess covered in animal crackers and, wait, where did they even get the sandwich that was stuck in their hair in pieces?
Eddie smiled at Marc. "So. Working on anything interesting, lately?"
DrTrollinski
Don't let the name scare you.
"Oh, come on. Mental health's a great topic. They're just starting to recognize all of that around the world now, at long last - imagine that, though. You do this thing with Milo, you could walk into a job interview and say how you chose to do a class project to help promote awareness of mental health issues. Employers eat that sort of thing up, believe me - nowadays it's rare to come across someone who doesn't believe in depression anymore, and seeing as ninety percent of the people interviewing you for jobs aren't going to be that much older than you now, you can be sure they'll be on board with that sort of thing. And if someone wants to try and pick on you guys for choosing that? Fuck 'em. Give them something to be depressed about and break a nose or two. As soon as you hit one of 'em in self-defense, believe me, they'll leave off. People that bully people want easy targets, and that's all there is to it. If a target stops being easy? They move on."
"Go ahead with mental health. Be different." He said, "You're going to get the other smart kids talk about response times and everything - to be honest, you can tie that in quite easily. The pain you feel from loneliness is felt in the same part of the brain as physical pain." He said, "That can tie in, I think." He said, "Don't worry about the wine. One gulp won't send you over the limit - just don't park us up a tree, or anything like that." He smirked.
"My work, though? Eh..." He sighed, "Just messy business, really." He said, "FBI handles kidnapping as long as it crosses over the state line, basically. Or if the police request it. We've had a lot of calls like that, but, it's always been that way. Every year we must get hundreds of kidnapping calls, either from stuff from other states coming into Maryland, or Maryland going into other states. So we've had that, then there's some big corporate guy who's apparently tied into some cartel or some big drug smuggling business, so, we're working on that, too." He said, "Doesn't look like the type, though, that's the only problem. And it's not easy to investigate people with a lot of money, because they can pay to hide the things they don't want people to see."
"The Assistant Director is retiring, though - so the Deputy Assistant will move up, and who's below the Deputy Assistant? Me. Or, well, I'm one of them." He said. "So, if I'm lucky, maybe I'll be getting a little promotion so I can just show my face at training sessions and do Public Affairs stuff." He chuckled. "We'll see though, won't we?" He smiled. "I've got a lot of responsibilities to get in order before I can consider that entirely, but that shouldn't take too long once things straighten out. More crimes seem to happen when there's a lot of rain."
"Go ahead with mental health. Be different." He said, "You're going to get the other smart kids talk about response times and everything - to be honest, you can tie that in quite easily. The pain you feel from loneliness is felt in the same part of the brain as physical pain." He said, "That can tie in, I think." He said, "Don't worry about the wine. One gulp won't send you over the limit - just don't park us up a tree, or anything like that." He smirked.
"My work, though? Eh..." He sighed, "Just messy business, really." He said, "FBI handles kidnapping as long as it crosses over the state line, basically. Or if the police request it. We've had a lot of calls like that, but, it's always been that way. Every year we must get hundreds of kidnapping calls, either from stuff from other states coming into Maryland, or Maryland going into other states. So we've had that, then there's some big corporate guy who's apparently tied into some cartel or some big drug smuggling business, so, we're working on that, too." He said, "Doesn't look like the type, though, that's the only problem. And it's not easy to investigate people with a lot of money, because they can pay to hide the things they don't want people to see."
"The Assistant Director is retiring, though - so the Deputy Assistant will move up, and who's below the Deputy Assistant? Me. Or, well, I'm one of them." He said. "So, if I'm lucky, maybe I'll be getting a little promotion so I can just show my face at training sessions and do Public Affairs stuff." He chuckled. "We'll see though, won't we?" He smiled. "I've got a lot of responsibilities to get in order before I can consider that entirely, but that shouldn't take too long once things straighten out. More crimes seem to happen when there's a lot of rain."
Jupiter
Monster Maker
"Boring stuff, then?" Eddie laughed. The reality was much different and Eddie knew it, these kinds of cases weren't boring for the people living them, they were horrifying, and having to deal with them could take a toll on you. But still, to them, to these two, it was nothing out of the ordinary, even if some things were a race against time. "Good luck with him though, like you said, if the pay people to cover some stuff up, you're gonna have a harder job. But it's not impossible though, I know you. It's possible for you. As with the promotion, that's possible too."
"You've been working there however many years." He stopped for a minute to take a bite out of his last piece of chicken, then continued as he pulled meat off the bone. "So you've got a good chance. Plus, you're where you are now, and you'll only go up from there. It's only fair, considering our cards." He smiled. He often referred to his mothers death as something that could only be improved on, 'the cards', something they'd been dealt that they could only go up from from there.
"More crimes during the rain? Why is that? Some psychopath thing?" Eddie laughed. "I mean in English it's mainly just about like, god what's the word?" He wiped his hands on a napkin, now finished eating, and juggled the words around in his head. "Fuck it. I dunno." He shrugged. "Some kind of phrase, I think it's like pathetic fallacy, but I could be wrong. It's like the way that the weather effects the mood of the writing. Maybe it effects mood. Like S.A.D" He shrugged. "Seasonal Affective Disorder. Maybe rain sets something off."
He banged his hand on the table and grinned, exclaiming: "Or, it's like that movie The Snowman. Hey Mister Policeman, I made you a snowman." He leaned back. "Every time it snows, he makes a snowman, see, only it's a murder. They're making it into a film this year. Read the book a while ago. But maybe it's like that. Or... You know. Whatever fancy thing the FBI thinks."
"You've been working there however many years." He stopped for a minute to take a bite out of his last piece of chicken, then continued as he pulled meat off the bone. "So you've got a good chance. Plus, you're where you are now, and you'll only go up from there. It's only fair, considering our cards." He smiled. He often referred to his mothers death as something that could only be improved on, 'the cards', something they'd been dealt that they could only go up from from there.
"More crimes during the rain? Why is that? Some psychopath thing?" Eddie laughed. "I mean in English it's mainly just about like, god what's the word?" He wiped his hands on a napkin, now finished eating, and juggled the words around in his head. "Fuck it. I dunno." He shrugged. "Some kind of phrase, I think it's like pathetic fallacy, but I could be wrong. It's like the way that the weather effects the mood of the writing. Maybe it effects mood. Like S.A.D" He shrugged. "Seasonal Affective Disorder. Maybe rain sets something off."
He banged his hand on the table and grinned, exclaiming: "Or, it's like that movie The Snowman. Hey Mister Policeman, I made you a snowman." He leaned back. "Every time it snows, he makes a snowman, see, only it's a murder. They're making it into a film this year. Read the book a while ago. But maybe it's like that. Or... You know. Whatever fancy thing the FBI thinks."
DrTrollinski
Don't let the name scare you.
"Oh, that movie? Good lord, I've heard of that." He said, "Trust me, if that happened here, you'd have every bastard who makes a snowman being dragged into the office and waterboarded, or some shit." He laughed and wiped his mouth with a napkin. "Seems interesting enough, though. I'll take you and Milo to go see it when it comes out." He said. "I'm glad you have faith in my promotion, though - It certainly wouldn't be too bad." He smiled. "It would put us both in a good spot, in theory. I could take you on as my PA when you're 18, if I got that spot." He winked, "Sure, you'd only transfer calls and write names down, but, get the foot in the door early and you're set to go. Would be pretty cool, right?" He said. "And seeing as you'd have a good five or so months from your birthday to college, you'd have plenty of time to get to know people. Connections here and there, and everything."
"And yeah, you'd find it hard to believe until you looked at the figures for crimes committed during winter and early spring. Much higher." He said. "Not only does it get dark earlier, so that inspires more crime, but there is exactly what you said. SAD." He said, "Some people get more miserable around winter time. Why? Sometimes it's because somewhere in their mind it associates the cold and the rain with something negative that happened in their life. Loss of a loved one, same season a bad accident happened in - maybe they lost a job in the winter when they were seventeen. You never know, but there's something that makes people more prone to it. More anti-social behavior, more violent crimes, more drugs in circulation - almost everything. And kidnapping spikes around that time of the year. Everyone's in a car because of the cold, so, grabbing someone and then driving among five-hundred other cars makes you hard to find." He said. "Same things happen in the summer, though, when there's people on the road driving to go to a beach or out of town on vacation. It varies."
"See, you're already thinking outside the box for this thing. Ever thought about taking up Psychology? Forensic Psychology? I think you'd like that. Helps understand why people do the things they do. I think you'd be good at it - you're emotionally intelligent, after all."
"And yeah, you'd find it hard to believe until you looked at the figures for crimes committed during winter and early spring. Much higher." He said. "Not only does it get dark earlier, so that inspires more crime, but there is exactly what you said. SAD." He said, "Some people get more miserable around winter time. Why? Sometimes it's because somewhere in their mind it associates the cold and the rain with something negative that happened in their life. Loss of a loved one, same season a bad accident happened in - maybe they lost a job in the winter when they were seventeen. You never know, but there's something that makes people more prone to it. More anti-social behavior, more violent crimes, more drugs in circulation - almost everything. And kidnapping spikes around that time of the year. Everyone's in a car because of the cold, so, grabbing someone and then driving among five-hundred other cars makes you hard to find." He said. "Same things happen in the summer, though, when there's people on the road driving to go to a beach or out of town on vacation. It varies."
"See, you're already thinking outside the box for this thing. Ever thought about taking up Psychology? Forensic Psychology? I think you'd like that. Helps understand why people do the things they do. I think you'd be good at it - you're emotionally intelligent, after all."
Jupiter
Monster Maker
"I mean, I guess I thought about it." He shrugged it off. "Well, I definitely did. Psychology would be interesting. I love how the brain ticks, I love that kind of thing. It's why I love biology, because it's part of it, I guess, and I've been surrounded with these kinds of things my whole life. Psychology and biology and finding out about crimes and why and how and what." He wound his finger round in a rotational circle, in the air in front of his face.
"The best part about that kind of thing is why. The more you understand about why, the more you can prevent other people from even having a 'why' in the first place. So the less why's means the less hows and whats and who's." He shrugged. "And it would be cool to learn. I guess it's more of a college thing for me, because I missed my chance to start a psychology class. I'm a junior, so now... I mean I could take it next year, but I wouldn't be learning very much." He shrugged again. He did that a lot lately. Dismissive.
"Anyway."
He shoved his now finished appetiser away from him, sipped on his drink, and rested his elbow on the table. "There was something I wanted to ask you. I can't remember what it was, though." He was very unsatisfying sometimes, in his speech.
The waiter came by and removed their appetiser plates. Soon enough, their main meal would be given to them, and all would be well in the world. For twenty minutes, max, before they debated desert and drove home.
He began to tap on the table, before leaning his head on his hand, propped up, a finger messing with his hair. He'd always had the same hair cut when he was younger, for most of his life. But when his mom died, he grew it out, and now it was a wild, curly bush on top of his head. He liked it that way.
"The best part about that kind of thing is why. The more you understand about why, the more you can prevent other people from even having a 'why' in the first place. So the less why's means the less hows and whats and who's." He shrugged. "And it would be cool to learn. I guess it's more of a college thing for me, because I missed my chance to start a psychology class. I'm a junior, so now... I mean I could take it next year, but I wouldn't be learning very much." He shrugged again. He did that a lot lately. Dismissive.
"Anyway."
He shoved his now finished appetiser away from him, sipped on his drink, and rested his elbow on the table. "There was something I wanted to ask you. I can't remember what it was, though." He was very unsatisfying sometimes, in his speech.
The waiter came by and removed their appetiser plates. Soon enough, their main meal would be given to them, and all would be well in the world. For twenty minutes, max, before they debated desert and drove home.
He began to tap on the table, before leaning his head on his hand, propped up, a finger messing with his hair. He'd always had the same hair cut when he was younger, for most of his life. But when his mom died, he grew it out, and now it was a wild, curly bush on top of his head. He liked it that way.
DrTrollinski
Don't let the name scare you.
"Oh, come on. Not learning a lot, but something is better than nothing, isn't it?" He said, "Start early." He nodded, "You'll enjoy it, and a year of psychology will help you get into college that little more, too, compared to those who haven't done anything in that subject." He said, "You can never know too much, but you can always know too little. Remember that." He said, "And trying and failing is better than not trying at all, wouldn't you agree?" He asked.
He rolled his eyes, "Oh, great, now I get to ponder what question you were going to ask for the rest of the night."
And then, silence. Silence while they waited for food and sipped on their drinks.
Marc went into those moments where you just sit back and watch someone you care about. You feel pride, happiness, joy - you feel several things, you ponder the future, you wonder how things will go for that said person.
A lot of things went through his head, but still, it left a smile on his face.
When the main meals came out, Marc picked up his knife and fork again and looked at his food, but he didn't start eating.
"Is there something on your mind, Ed?" He asked. "Is there anything you need to talk about?" He asked. "We haven't really... Talked much recently, so, I'm just a little worried. Is everything alright?" He asked.
He rolled his eyes, "Oh, great, now I get to ponder what question you were going to ask for the rest of the night."
And then, silence. Silence while they waited for food and sipped on their drinks.
Marc went into those moments where you just sit back and watch someone you care about. You feel pride, happiness, joy - you feel several things, you ponder the future, you wonder how things will go for that said person.
A lot of things went through his head, but still, it left a smile on his face.
When the main meals came out, Marc picked up his knife and fork again and looked at his food, but he didn't start eating.
"Is there something on your mind, Ed?" He asked. "Is there anything you need to talk about?" He asked. "We haven't really... Talked much recently, so, I'm just a little worried. Is everything alright?" He asked.
Jupiter
Monster Maker
The meals came out, and Eddie picked up his knife and fork and almost instantly began cutting his steak into strips, before stabbing through one of his fries and putting it into his mouth. He reached for the salt silently, sprinkling just enough on it, and then pushed a few of the fries towards the sauce that was leaking out of his steak, pressing down on the steak with the knife making even more of the sauce come out. The best, for his fries, was to be covered in the juices of the steak, so he was working on that as a first. A rare steak isn't hot for long, though, and so he put a quick strip of it into his mouth, feeling the juices as he bit into it.
Perfectly cooked, as it almost always was, here.
"No." He shrugged, again, and finally met his fathers eye. "I just like to think of things. And I know we haven't talk talked, but no, everything is... It's okay." He smiled. "Just normal teenager stuff, but I'm not so naive as to think that no one else has been through these kinds of things. That's what google is for." He laughed. "I didn't mean it that way. I meant more yahoo answers."
He shoved a few more fries around, already enjoying his meal.
"I mean... I think the only thing I guess you could say is on my mind is just... Life in general. That, and I was really just thinking about pianos. And swimming." He shrugged. "Nothing too pensive in the mind of Edward Prescott, sir, he doesn't have the capability for complex thought, no, no." He grinned. "What about you? What's on your mind? I mean, since you asked, there's probably something."
Perfectly cooked, as it almost always was, here.
"No." He shrugged, again, and finally met his fathers eye. "I just like to think of things. And I know we haven't talk talked, but no, everything is... It's okay." He smiled. "Just normal teenager stuff, but I'm not so naive as to think that no one else has been through these kinds of things. That's what google is for." He laughed. "I didn't mean it that way. I meant more yahoo answers."
He shoved a few more fries around, already enjoying his meal.
"I mean... I think the only thing I guess you could say is on my mind is just... Life in general. That, and I was really just thinking about pianos. And swimming." He shrugged. "Nothing too pensive in the mind of Edward Prescott, sir, he doesn't have the capability for complex thought, no, no." He grinned. "What about you? What's on your mind? I mean, since you asked, there's probably something."
DrTrollinski
Don't let the name scare you.
"Hey, every experience is unique. You're the only Eddie Prescott out there, after all." He said, "As long as things are okay - if they aren't, you know you can speak to me." He said, "I know I may not have the best advice at points, but, I can definitely try. And if I can't give you the right advice you know I'll make sure to find a way that I can." He said.
"Life is good to think about, I think. Depends on what it is." He said.
Piano.
Ah, piano. He used to play piano - but he doesn't play so much. He hadn't done so since his wife had died. He couldn't play something even remotely emotional without breaking down.
"On my mind, nothing special. Well, I've got you on my mind." He said, "Always. But that's nothing new, is it?" He shrugged, "Other than that... Like I said, nothing special. I'd like to get back into playing the piano again. I could give you some lessons, if I did." He said, "Then again, I'd be rusty. Last song I played was... Eh..." He paused, "I don't know. Something by Daft Punk, I think, and that's not quite what pianos are made for, I don't think." He said. "We'll see, son."
"I suppose part of me feels quite alone when you're off at school - Not alone to the point where, y'know, I'll blow my brains out or anything like that, but any work I do from home is a little too quiet for me. Don't really know what I can do about that, though."
He'd already made it very clear before he wasn't ready to start dating again.
"Life is good to think about, I think. Depends on what it is." He said.
Piano.
Ah, piano. He used to play piano - but he doesn't play so much. He hadn't done so since his wife had died. He couldn't play something even remotely emotional without breaking down.
"On my mind, nothing special. Well, I've got you on my mind." He said, "Always. But that's nothing new, is it?" He shrugged, "Other than that... Like I said, nothing special. I'd like to get back into playing the piano again. I could give you some lessons, if I did." He said, "Then again, I'd be rusty. Last song I played was... Eh..." He paused, "I don't know. Something by Daft Punk, I think, and that's not quite what pianos are made for, I don't think." He said. "We'll see, son."
"I suppose part of me feels quite alone when you're off at school - Not alone to the point where, y'know, I'll blow my brains out or anything like that, but any work I do from home is a little too quiet for me. Don't really know what I can do about that, though."
He'd already made it very clear before he wasn't ready to start dating again.
Jupiter
Monster Maker
"Nah. Piano isn't my thing. I was thinking more of the structure of it, which is quite interesting, but then again I don't really know much about the structure of it or anything." He waved a dismissive hand. "And besides, I've never been able to play instruments, you know that. I can just about manage a simple chord on a guitar and I know trumpet versions of Twinkle Twinkle Little Star from when I was about seven at elementary school, but... Everything else. It's bullshit to me, it's all gibberish." He laughed.
"Alone?" He slammed his hands on the table. "Time we get a dog." He grinned.
"Come on, think about it. We have Milo but he's at school with me anyway so we need a real dog. Something really fluffy and bouncy, but then we'd have to walk it a lot to tire it out and neither of us are so great at going out walking every single day before work or school and after too." He laughed. "So maybe a calmer breed. Something like a... Like a, I don't know, really, what dogs are less bouncy." He laughed.
"And besides. A dog would be able to keep you company. Children, pfft, women, pfft. Dogs are where it's at." He smiled.
He dug in a bit more, occasionally sipping his now very nearly empty drink. He'd made it last. "No but seriously. A dog would be a good friend. And I won't be here forever. Neither of us want me to but I have to go to college somewhere to do something with my life, and I'd be back at christmas but you'd be alone all that time. May as well get a pet in advance."
"Alone?" He slammed his hands on the table. "Time we get a dog." He grinned.
"Come on, think about it. We have Milo but he's at school with me anyway so we need a real dog. Something really fluffy and bouncy, but then we'd have to walk it a lot to tire it out and neither of us are so great at going out walking every single day before work or school and after too." He laughed. "So maybe a calmer breed. Something like a... Like a, I don't know, really, what dogs are less bouncy." He laughed.
"And besides. A dog would be able to keep you company. Children, pfft, women, pfft. Dogs are where it's at." He smiled.
He dug in a bit more, occasionally sipping his now very nearly empty drink. He'd made it last. "No but seriously. A dog would be a good friend. And I won't be here forever. Neither of us want me to but I have to go to college somewhere to do something with my life, and I'd be back at christmas but you'd be alone all that time. May as well get a pet in advance."
