corrinesbell | 146. Cube

146. Cube

It's been six years.

Maybe I should just stop counting after this. Is it worth it? All that stuff about seven years...

[Sheena remembers her last 'anniversary' with neutrality, but the fallout with a hard grimace and clenched fists.]

There'd better not be some stupid statue anywhere this time.

[locked to Albert Silverberg]

Hey. Up for a talk?

[[ooc: Six long years ago I joined this silly game. I can't wrap my head around this and I have lived it. You guys are amazing.]]

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One where we toast each other and drown in our own cynical bitterness.

[It says something that he's not at all surprised by that reply.]

A long one, then. Is the shop closed up?

Yeah. And I was gonna say we might as well meet at Good Spirits instead.

We can do that. I'll meet you over there in about ten minutes, if you are ready now.

[In a way, she is never ready.

In another way, she always is.]

Yeah. It'll take me about that long to get there.

[He simply nods in confirmation before closing the journal. Then he's off to meet Sheena at the bar, locating a quiet corner to sit and wait.]

Edited 2013-11-11 20:09 (UTC)

[Oh, she hates when he beats her places. He's there when she walks in, skulking in a corner or whatever it is he does. She weaves through misplaced chairs to get to him.]

Hey.

[He still likes to arrive ahead of others, even if it's something that doesn't happen as often in Luceti as back in his own world. He glances up at Sheena when he notices her approaching, seated in a booth so they aren't disturbed too much.]

Hello. Feeling nostalgic?

[A different kind of person - maybe, a different kind of Sheena - would say something like "Every damn day". She takes the booth seat opposite him and shakes her head a few times.]

Nostalgic? This place didn't even exist for a long time.

We could make it nostalgic by requesting the place be Shifted away.

[Okay, that wasn't funny. But his morbid jokes were really hit or miss.]

I don't see you drink much. Are you aiming for inebriation today?

Not really. [She is aiming for quite serious, to all appearances.] I don't know what'd happen to me now if I drank until I couldn't really...think like me.

[He folds his hands on the table, not entirely sure what to expect, but not against lending an ear.]

If we are going to be here awhile, I would suggest beer, then.

[He'll leave Sheena to breach the more serious topics.]

Oh great. Something I have no idea how to order. Guess that puts you in charge of the drinking part.

[Sarcasm or not, he knows enough to ask for suggestions from the bartenders and receive a pitcher before returning his attention to Sheena. All without speaking too much to her, as he wants her to talk when she's ready.

...He can be patient.]

[There's a lot on Sheena's mind about the number. Most of it just floats around, little mental wind gusts, none of it forming into real words that know how to be useful.

Finally, after waiting for him to say...well, anything, she picks up her full glass in his direction.]

Year seven.

[He holds up his own glass and clinks it against Sheena's, frowning wryly.]

Year seven. Time flies, sometimes stutters, and hates us.

[It's a rather blunt comment from him, but that fear Shift that seemed to be affecting so many was not helping his opinions of the passage of time.]

Stutters, huh? Time been stuttering for you?

[Sheena takes a drink that would be shameful if they were sharing sake instead of beer. Despite her apparent good humor it has been a long day.]

[He waves a gloved hand dismissively, answering before he takes a long drink of his own.]

I could do without this Shift that has been persisting since before the amusement park. But that should not be surprising.

Shift from before the amusement park? [Unafflicted herself, Sheena hasn't heard much about it either.] What's up?

[He frowns at her obliviousness, briefly debating if she was fortunate for being in such a position.]

A vague fear-inducing Shift that has lasted longer than the usual week. I suppose if you have not seen anything by now, you were not affected.

[Unsurprisingly, he again goes for a dismissive position.]

But that is not why we are here, I'm sure.

Actually, I was pretty much here to make that toast and then listen to you say the usual insightful stuff. What're you afraid of?

[Albert sighs at the question, though he's quick to clip it down to a very short exhale; he didn't need to create excessive worry about a situation that Sheena couldn't control.]

The passage of time. It's not such an idle worry as it becomes something ... worth pause.

[If, by "worth pause," he meant "crippling."]

Afraid of time passing? [Well, it can't be that bad, if he can get through every day. And apparently he can.] Hope you don't think you'll get ol-

[Wham, goes a memory she didn't quite have until now, bursting from vague color blotches into real, if faded, images. Old before your time. Every day, in the space of a day. Her eyes widen quite far and she takes a big drink to cover it, if she can possibly cover it.]

[He's already answering after Sheena's question, a few words that trail off when he realizes that she is reacting to something else. It's not long before he's frowning at her attempt to cover her reaction by taking a drink.]

What was that?

Nothing.

[As if he'd take that for an answer without the suspicious guzzling.]

I just...I remembered something, that's all, sorry. [The apology is for the memory, that it was something terrible for him.]

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