mr. misty eyed : {kaejose}

[goat]

alyson renner


It starts, coincidentally, over spilled milk.

You're having dinner with your parents. A simple task, you do it every night. As you're reaching for the salt, however, your arm catches your father's glass of milk and it topples over. You shoot up from the table and reach for the glass, placing it back upright, but the milk has already spread over the tablecloth (and your father's dinner). "I'm sorry!" you choke out. You can't bring yourself to meet your father's eyes- you know he already sees the tears welling up in yours. "The hell are you doing, boy?" He yells, slamming his hands on the table. He throws himself away from the table and marches over to you. "God damn, if I see a single tear! Man the hell up, Alyson!"

He slaps you square in the face and it stings. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry," you keep repeating, as he glares you down and slams his palm to your cheek again. How pathetic you are. Instead of manning up and fighting right back, you sit there and take it like a wimp. "Get out of my sight," your father hisses, and you waste no time in running away. Your mother continues eating, like nothing ever happened.

Quickly, you shove a pair of sneakers on to your feet and push your way out the front door. The humid air hits you like a train, but you have to keep going. You run until you're far from your house, far from your father. The sting from your cheek is still burning. You bring a hand up and cradle it gently. It could've been worse, you think, trying to stay positive. He could've punched you.

You turn into an alleyway. It's empty, which is surprising for seven o'clock at night. The rebels and drug dealers must be busy tonight. You slide down against the wall until your bottom hits ground. It's only then that you allow yourself to curl in and cry. Instead of tucked into your warm bed, you're sobbing in a disgustingly dirty alleyway. You acted weak, and pathetic, like always, and nothing will ever change.

[kaejose]

Absolon Désiré Merle

An evening around the square, has been a common waste of Absolon's time, as soon the the Community Home's grasp became less of a nuisance. He always thought it was a bit fitting, as these are the streets the lover once roamed hand-in-hand with another. While the streetlights still sparkle in his passing eyes, like fire flickering through fresh tinder, he can easily recognize, it's not the same light that he would've bore so many years ago.

It's only inevitable, really. Once you've seen the world through a different lens, it's always impossible to look at it the same way ever again! For him, the sun bites a little bit harder, the dark nights are a little bit darker, and those fading skies never hold the same excitement and glamour as they once did. It was as if the heavens above chose to fray, and condense into nothingness, that seemed too vast and too terrifying to understand. Nonetheless, the hopeless boy skipped out on his supper at the home, simply to sit with legs crossed in the bustle of the District's center.

At midday, his harem of friends were here, too! All of them were laughing and smiling, as jokes were exchanged through bated breathes taken in between chuckles and the like. It was certainly more carefree than most days!... Despite the constant need to move shop, once the sun decided it would find beating down upon the poor boy's jacket and head, was something productive. But it was days like these, that always made the poor Absolon restless above all else. Once the sun decided to retire it's golden licks of flame, behind the rising claws of the mountain peaks above, it was all the more disappointing. People-watching became utterly futile, as streams of workers leaving their tiresome jobs soon flooded the well-kempt streets --Only to be utterly deserted mere minutes later.

Curfew was a threat, that was certainly all too lingering, but... It never seemed urgent enough. His mind had other things to worry about, dammit! Like... Like if the sonnet he wrote was good at all, and thoroughly cheesy. Or, perhaps, if the latest poem he had memorized and added to his repertoire, was enchanting, as the brittle pages of the weather worn book made it sound to him! The flirting he'd accomplished today was practically nothing, unless you count a few coy replies purred through the smirk of playful lips. While there was no one and nothing, but the soft and muddled scuffles of the night-dwellers awaking from their restless rest, there was still an undying urge. Some sort of flame, that couldn't be extinguished, with the flickering lights of a particularly humid night.

Dropping his feet to the stone walkways, off of the bench upon which he had chosen to rest when left by his friends to his solitude, the bedazzled mess of a hopeless romantic decided to ease his restless heart. A simple, late-night walk, towards wherever his heart dared lead him. He'd close his eyes, if not for the threat of running into some sort of expensive shop, and likely having to pay the toll for such damages himself. But nonetheless, his booted feet dragged steadily forward, through the haze of the air that the moon seemed to bring. But it was strange, however... The more steps he took, the more he could swear his heart spoke to him.

"This way," it seemed to hiss, urgently resounding through his ears, as it rocked his fragile ribcage harder. "There's something this way, I can feel it... Can you hear it?"

Often times, he contemplates the possibilities of his parents, or ancestors, being an Augur and Empath of sorts... Everything seems to speak to him, especially his heart! But the thing he finds most amazing this time around, while listening eagerly to the soft plods of his own frantic footsteps along the slightly-rugged stone pathways... Is an answer, to his heart's calling. A flourish of relief runs over the boy, as his ears can pick faint sounds from an alleyway not more than a few blocks ahead of the curb on which he stands! The desire to kick himself into a whirling sprint, and come to the aid of whomever may inhabit this crammed and darkening place, was certainly strong and there, but he ignored it. There was probably a reason his heart was calling him, and him alone, to this dark corner of the streets.

The sound is easily discerned, the closer his footsteps seem to draw. A whimper, a falter in the voice, a crack, and a cry. A language the Casanova's heart knows all too well, and a problem he's more than eager to risk a run-in with the Home to fix.

Firmly planting his hands against the walls of the shop, Absolon crept steadily forward, hoping to not make too much sound. The hair that was done-up behind him, fell into his face and shoulders in a messy cloud of encompassing curls... But most people found stuff like that endearing, and so this kid probably wouldn't mind, right? He probably had more... Important problems. There's not a whole lot that warrants sobbing in an alleyway.

Peaking around, the scene lain before him was... Nothing sort of depressing and melancholic in nature. The warm shine of the street lamps didn't touch these lonely alleys, and the silvery moon was all that was left to light what little Absolon could see. It was all vague outlines --the shimmer of a puddle, the illuminating surface of a warped beige box. But most importantly... A flicker of flame, a slight hint of red, just barely peaking through a mess of arms, and a cage of legs. A boy, from what you can tell...

Foreboding, yes. But Absolon is never one to retract a hand to opportunity. Blink once, blink twice... Deep breath... Deep, deep breath... There's no need to get into character here, but there's some sort of tension here that's slightly diffusing your normal attitude.

"Hey, uh... Friend?" Murmurs the observer, revealing more of himself from behind the wall of which he hides, and cocking his head just a pinch. "I don't mean to intrude, 'cause crying in an alleyway seems a bit of a personal thing... However, I was just wondering if you were alright?"

Clearing his throat once again, he lets a winsome giggle sneak through his teeth, as he offers a wide smile to what is in front of him. "I guess that's a bit of a rhetorical question, my bad. I'm just a little intrigued, and quite worried to say the least. If y'stay out here, you're probably gonna get caught up by some wandering drug lord, or some other situation that's a little too sticky for you to be in right now, it would seem."

"I'm not asking you to move from your spot, but I'd feel awful going home alone, knowing I left you alone without asking... Would you mind if I sat with you?" The rest of the phrase came spilling forth, as Absolon gave another light-hearted laugh.

"It may be summer, but the nights get cold, and getting the chills 'cause you were sitting in an alleyway is never a fun thing to fathom, much less explain!"

[goat]

alyson renner


You don't notice the stranger until he speaks up. Instantly, you throw your head back up and stare him down. You stutter, trying to come up with some excuse as to why you're a crying mess, but it just comes out as a scattered apology. The boy, who seems younger than you, continues to ramble on. You sort of want to yell at him, to tell him to shut up and leave you the hell alone. When you're crying, you hate people being around to watch. It makes you feel even more pathetic.

Why are you so pathetic, Alyson? Here you are, crying in an alley way, over some minor spat that happens all the time. Adding to that, you're sobbing in front of random stranger! Nice going. Your father would be even more disappointed in you.

The stranger is still speaking. He seems sympathetic. Concerned, even, and you can't fathom why. It's just some random stranger. Suddenly, he spits out that he wants to sit with you. Still wanting him to leave, but wanting to be rude, you slowly nod and scoot over so there's room next to you. "Sorry," you repeat, avoiding the stranger's eyes. Be careful, your mind tells you. Don't bare your heart to a stranger. "Just a parental spat," you tell him. "I'm a big boy. I'll be fine." Still, as you say that, you find yourself wiping tears from your face.

There's something about this stranger that makes you want to trust him. In the few words he spoke to you, he's surprisingly charming. As you finish thinking, you realize your gaze has floated to his face, staring at him awkwardly. Well, he is awful pretty. "Uh. Sorry," you mutter, hurriedly looking away. "Who, uh. Who are you?"

[kaejose]

Absolon Désiré Merle

"Sorry?" Absolon repeats, tilting his head the other way, much akin to a puppy being introduced to someone new. The smile, however, never manages to fade from his bright face, as he pipes up with a little bit of a, "No need, no need! I should be the one who's sorry here, I kinda just... Snuck up on you with no warning!"

Now, the boy knows that he typically comes off as... Well, a ditz. Not all that smart, or anything, but he certainly knows his way around people! Patiently, he waits for the boy to give some kind of verbal confirmation that he can sit, while he keeps looking between the eerie alleyway this entire exchange is taking place in. His eyes always try to drift around, but... Every time, they settle on the bright, almost stinging red of the other boy's hair. He has to admit, as a red fanatic, it's probably one of the most beautiful shades he's ever managed to lay eyes on! Instantly, a thought bubbles up to his mind, and hes just about to spit out another question on the topic of being able to touch his hair, when he's stopped just as his mouth opens once more.

"Sorry." He repeats once more, muttering in a sullen tone as he shifts to make some space for you on the chilling concrete.

Instantly bouncing to his heels, Absolon practically hops his merry way through the shimmering puddles of silver, and throws himself against the hard ground. No, that wasn't... The brightest idea we've had in ages, but it's probably endearing, he supposes. Scooting against the wall, and making sure there's about an inch of space between him and the other boy (for comfort, of course), the Casanova turns their bright cognac stare straight over at the stary-eyed boy and smiles. "I understand! Spats used to be a pretty common occurrence for me, too. But I don't suppose that you or I would like to talk about that, y'know?"

The gaze is returned, but it only takes a split second for the other to notice, before he glances at the ground. Smiling a bit wider, Absolon figures that the other boy probably can't really see, but really just can't help himself. There's something about this one... His face vaguely reminds you of something adorable, like a dog. Instantly, this reminds you of the glancing thought that came running through your mind not more than a few moments earlier! The boy's strawberry hair!

Lifting a hand from his lap slightly, the sequined sleeve of the romantic glimmered, as he purred, "Absolon Désiré Merle. Fancy, huh? I don't normally introduce myself like that, however. I prefer to preface it with a bit of poetry, but you can't always rely on tradition, hm?" This, however, caused the newly introduced guest to raise his eyebrows a bit, as a sparkling expression of intrigue found its way onto his face. "You wouldn't happen to raid poetry too, right? It doesn't matter if you do, or you don't, but if you do, it would seem we have some common interests."

"Here, I'm gonna touch your hair real quick, if you don't mind?" Half-asked, half-warned the jumpy boy, letting his fingertips slip in through the fluffy strands of the other boy's hair, trying to remember any sort of spoken verse he could use to describe it. "I love it... Red's a color of passion, so you must be passionate, yes? Puts the taste of summer strawberries in my mouth." Once again, he pauses his words, and looks the boy up and down once more. "A passionate, little red strawberry! Sweet and juicy, but hard to find."

Never let poets around dyed hair.

"Those ones are always the best of the batch. The bigger ones are always too bland, or too tart... I should know, I keep a few plants around. It's a hobby, and I hope you don't mind the intrusion of another few questions, but I believe you owe me a proper introduction yourself, as well as a few of your hobbies?"

[goat]

alyson renner


Everything was going just fine and dandy until the stranger- Absolon, you mean- decided to run his fingers through your hair.

Sure, he's the most rambling stranger you've ever come across. But he's also the prettiest, so having him sit there with his fingers curled into your blazing cherry hair is making you a bit flustered. Okay, a lot flustered. Your face goes bright red and you swear there's steam coming out of your ears. "Uh. Um," you stutter, completely and utterly flustered but making no move to stop him. The boy rambles on again, something about sweet and juicy strawberries. Does that mean he's calling you sweet and juicy? Oh jeez.

You let the boy go on. He seems to have forgotten about his own hands, letting his fingers come to a rest in your hair. You want to shake them off, but on the other hand, it feels sort of nice. Absolon continues to wax on about strawberries, and you wonder why he doesn't just marry strawberries if he loves them so much. Yet, the more he goes on, the more charming you're finding him. He's not exactly annoying, he's... passionate.

"..I hope you don't mind the intrusion of another few questions, but I believe you owe me a proper introduction yourself, as well as a few of your hobbies?"

Oh. Okay.

"I'm uh. Alyson. I don't really.. do much?" It's more of a question than a statement. Instead of continuing your answer, you slowly point to your head. "Your. Um. Your fingers are still in my hair."

[kaejose]

Absolon Désiré Merle

As soon as Alyson manages to mumble out his name, and the fact that he really doesn't have that many interests, Absolon/s face immediately lights up, as if he'd just been introduced to the solution of all the problems in the world. "Aylson?" He repeats, the name rolling bright off his tongue like the beating summer sun. "It suits you! It really, really suits you! Not in a bad way, but in a good wa-"

"Your, um, your fingers are still in my hair."

Bright eyes flickering back over into the mess of red tufts he had managed to get his hands on, the Casanova simply scritched the top of Alyson's head with a strange kind of familiar affection, before letting it fall back down into his lap. "You'll have to forgive me! Forgetfulness is a bit of a habit of mine, but in my defense, your hair is awfully soft! Do you have a thing for hair styling? 'Cause I happen to like it --A lot." Shifting a little bit, the man pointed at his scraggly high ponytail, which had been adorned with pins of gem butterflies and beetles. Some of the brooches seemed to be real, others were faux gems, that Absolon had seemingly painted over to give off the illusion of giant ladybugs and red admirals.

"Even if you don't, I'm sure there's gotta be something you like... Let's start with basics! What's your favorite candy?" The boy interrogates further, turning back to face Alyson with a completely interested expression.

Are we already trying to get some gift ideas? Haha, no! Nope! Why would we ever be doing that.

[goat]

alyson renner


He calls your hair soft. Is it? You move your hands to your hair after he moves his fingers and give your locks a run through. Wow, it is pretty soft. You're almost surprised. "My method of hair styling is just. Whatever it looks like when I roll out of bed, aha," you joke, forcing a smile onto your face. The forced smile almost instantly fades. The boy- wait, Absolon. You need to keep reminding yourself of his name, as pretty as it is. Absolon points to his own hair, adorned with insect pins. "Pretty," you mumble to yourself, half hoping he hears you.

Absolon seems to be almost... interested in you? It's strange. Nobody has ever had an interest in you. They've always passed you by like you're nothing, but this boy is treating you like you're something. Again, it's strange. You find a small smile creeping onto your face. "My favorite candy? Um. Anything really sugary," you reply, smile growing larger on the last word. You think it's sweet that he asked you that.

A chill passes through the alley way. You shiver and clutch your arms around your body. You're starting to regret taking shelter in a dim, cold alleyway. The ground is uncomfortable and hurts your butt, and the wall is definitely coated in some weird slimy substance. Gross. "It's cold," you laugh, smile fading again. "I picked a bad hiding spot."

On the other hand, you don't totally regret hiding out here. You wouldn't have run into this pleasant stranger if you hadn't.