|  Author | Topic: White Papers {Open} (Read 166 times) |
Eric Renaud
Sophomore
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Karma: 0 |  | White Papers {Open}
« Thread Started on Sept 18, 2007, 5:06pm » | |
A sea of white. The papers on the tables were blank as Eric's head. Sitting alone in the furthest workshop from the doors, and that was all right. He had been pointed to as a director for the posters announcing the campus' activities. Both of his elbows were propped up and his head dropped. A canvas of hair draped over his view and he inhaled quietly. All he had to do was pick up a pen and start writing headlines. But this wasn't as important as his essays, his reports and the readings assigned from his other classes.
Stress started to claw at him, eating his motivation to even move. His open palms caught the side of his head and the white blinded him momentarily. This could wait, even if Eric had a reputation to finish creative works quickly. Last year, however, didn't have time-consuming classes. Circumstances changed. With the pressure against his ears he could hear his heartbeat and his uneven breathing.
Agitated at the little progress made, he reached over and took the pencil from the sea of white. He stood and the chair made a loud squeak when it moved away. Eric leaned over the paper and reached for a ruler on the other side of his bag. Concentrating, he started on the headline. Sleep should never be taken for granted. Eric pulled in his bottom lip with his teeth and started to chew on the pallid flesh until it turned red. How long had he gone without a good eight hours of sleep? Four never really counted. It did its job but it hindered his ability to pay attention in class.
I'll have to drop out he thought, but it wasn't about his classes. It was over some of the clubs. Eric would give them up unless meetings and activities were planned on the weekends, during the evenings. Or maybe just Sundays. The room filled with a long sigh. Already the line for the 'A' started to slant. Eric flipped the pencil over and started to erase his mistake.
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I can't forget what you've forgotten, all along. |
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Daniel Ashers
Sophomore
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« Reply #1 on Sept 18, 2007, 6:10pm » | |
The sun was sinking into the horizon as he made his way through the double doors of the Art Departments, not lighting his cigarette until after the doors were closed behind him and out of sight of the usual campus watch. The floating ember bobbed up and down as he made his way through the shadowed entry speech halls, his head floating above a thin black clothed, long sleeved shirt that blended well into the walls and dark colored floors. His hands thrust limply in his pockets. Danny scanned lazily each opened door way as he passed, trying to find a fragment of movement – something to catch his eye.
He had seen this kid earlier, hours before the school began to slow down at around 8 o clock, but until now didn’t bother to pursue him. He probably had something to do, disappearing into Art Center and not coming out for over an hour and 45 minutes, but unlike him, Danny did not have anything better to do. If just to watch him, he didn’t actually have any plans to confront the kid, at least not yet. He was sure he had a buyer on his hands.
Much like a bird seeking prey, Daniel sought potential buyers like vulture on a dying animal, you had to follow it around a bit before you actually got a piece of ‘em. Cynical, maybe, but right now – it was innocent, rather, he hadn’t even gotten the kid’s name, or his address or anything. All he could see was that dazed look in his eyes, perhaps for a lack of appeasement of some sort, an addiction withdraw perhaps. Didn’t hurt to ask, or to imply, really. Or if anything, just to watch.
Daniel wasn’t going to force anything on anyone, he was just going to open opportunities, if not for them, but for himself. And he had a little more initiative than customers on his mind in this particular sort of pursuit, but curiosity fueled him like gasoline thrown on the fire, he really couldn’t just let this go without a look.
The kid didn’t look him right in the eyes, but only briefly did he catch a glance of a deep blue color, though it was strikingly familiar, he didn’t know where. Daniel was no master of observation, really, whenever a girl went to the salon Danny would be the one to wonder if the girl bought a new pair of jeans or what, not being able to place what was different exactly, just knowing something was, well, off.
A hard look about him, Danny felt himself finding every door way empty, lazily, but not without a seeping frustration, looking to the next. Drama, doing a play, a rehearsal, maybe even writing a script is what he expected to find. He was somewhere alone, the dealer concluded, as he tapped the cylinder of ash off the tip of his cigarette as he went, and that could either be good or bad. Daniel what it meant to want to be left alone, and he would not even pose a presence if that be a case.
And placing the cigarette back upon his lips, he used that hand to press open a single door at the farthest end of the art department, swinging the door slowly open all the way to lightly hit the adjacent wall. Going unseen, Daniel leaned against the door way, placing his weight on his outstretched arm that clutched the frame, leaning to his right, he watched the kid he had been looking for with a blankness about him. He had found what he was looking for and didn’t mind waiting a little bit longer.
He simply stood there now, putting his opposing hand on his lips to take his last longest drag on the cigarette, the white stick smoldering into ash as he inhaled down to the filter, raising one eyebrow silently. Daniel peered inquisitively to his new found interest, wondering if he was so intoxicated by his own work that the kid wouldn’t even bother to look up.
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Eric Renaud
Sophomore
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céasé fíré
Joined: Sept 2007
Gender: Male
Posts: 6
Karma: 0 | | Re: White Papers {Open}
« Reply #2 on Sept 18, 2007, 9:56pm » | |
The paper crinkled beneath the pressure of Eric's pencil. Pulling down, there was a sudden crack. What was once a tool to draw thick smoldering lines, now remained a piece of wood to rip through the thin layer of white. Gone. In defeat, Eric tossed the broken pencil across the table, watching it roll in a slight arch. As an experienced artist he could simply sharpen the pencil and get back to work. However, the pencil dropped and rolled in the direction of the door.
Eric leaned the small of his back against the table, turning his head to watch the pencil stop near a pair of shoes. Every movement from Eric became mechanical. His chin raised, his arms crossed and he glanced to the intruder's shoulders. How long has he been standing there? Was it a possible student in the Art Club with Eric? No, the line of the male's neck seemed far too familiar. Curiously, the look went to Daniel Asher's face.
At the base of his stomach, where a white line etched at uneven curves, pain arose. Flippantly, Eric lifted a palm to his mouth, trying to hold the acid burning at the back of his throat. Sickness, like taste aversion, came with Daniel Asher's presence. The smoke didn't make it to Eric's nose, it didn't smolder into his lips because the boy's long fingers had a mission to block out even the smallest bit of air.
Predatory, watchful eyes, was the response he got when he looked at the hawk-like face. Eric's feet whirled him around, facing the paper. Removing the hand-mask from his face he took a strong breath in. The room had a bitter taste, his throat dry from stress and panic. Why is he here? How can he afford it? He's not even smart! Eric caught the table with his fingers, his body slipping, dizzy, and the chair caught him when he sat down.
Was it possible Daniel Ashers was not satisfied with the results that Aymeric Ervais was alive and sound? There would be no way to trace him, find him, unless he went to the police. But they knew his records and made sure Daniel Ashers heard nothing of the whereabouts on Aymeric or Justin Ervais. Eric felt his palms grow cold and clammy. No doubt his heartbeat raced, anxious and afraid. The fight-or-flight syndrome was kicking in.
Maybe he doesn't know, the voice in his head reassured. Eric didn't turn his head. His posture tensed and he sat up straight. "Can I help you with something?" he asked, a routine response when a student approached him. Over the years his voice changed, the youthful tone was lost in the past and now Danny would have to greet with the fact that Eric sounded like a silk business man trying to sell his products (much like Daniel tried to target him as a customer).
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I can't forget what you've forgotten, all along. |
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Daniel Ashers
Sophomore
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Posts: 8
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« Reply #3 on Sept 19, 2007, 6:58pm » | |
Daniel let the ash cylinder fall from the filter of his cigarette as he watched the kid stare at him, feeling his breath halt as he took his last inhalation of nicotine. Daniel’s lazy stare bore into the back of the kid’s head, watching him as he turned away, trying to fathom what whiff of emotion he just caught in the air. Was is fear, or disgust?
He dropped the used cig filter to the floor, crushing it with his shoe and simply stepping over the immobile pencil toward the kid who had his backed turned. Was that smart, really? Turning his back to a stranger? Daniel put one hand into his back pocket to pull out his carton and to retrieve another cancer stick, ready to turn his lungs to dust, all ready on his second pack that day.
And he took in all that was the fellow peer before him, his odd and mechanical movements, the stress levels in the air, the blinding white sea of papers naked and pure with no ink to ugly them up. Putting a cigarette to his lips, he didn’t light it, not yet, as he peered down at the abyss of whiteness, looking over the hunched shoulder of the rather stiff individual.
”Loosen up,” Daniel mumbled with the filter muffling his lips as he stared lazily downward; pulling out the Zippo light and flicking back the lid. Crack went the flint. A sphere of fire light accented Daniel’s stern face a moment as he lit the cig before it was smote out in a second, returning his attention now officially to the blue eyed potential as he placed the silver Zippo back in his pocket.
Daniel probably was a bit too thick headed to catch on to the obvious signs of Aymeric Ervais that was sitting right in front of him, but it didn’t happen. He was just interesting, Daniel didn’t bother to admit, like Aymeric, and that was the only connection between the two, if any at all. So different was he, basically a different person.
Daniel, on the other hand, was not. Still the same stern face, smoking the same cigarettes and still having the same messy hair. But he had grown up some, too, Daniel had become leaner in his years and only slightly taller. Instead of his worn hoodies, he had a real form fitting long-sleeved shirt. You could even say he looked pretty clean cut, for Danny that is. His dark colored jeans seemed fairly new, or at least well taken care of. No longer did he use his cheap 99 cent lighter but a metallic Zippo lighter. He had money, at least it seemed like, money enough to take care of himself a little better. Or maybe he was just sick of being poor.
Funny enough, Danny could afford this with no family and no job. Well..
”So,” began Daniel, leaning forward on the table, one hand flat on the edge to rest his weight he stared down curiously, “Drawing some invisible pictures, I see.” He didn’t take a drag on his cigarette, probably a potential fire hazard with all this paper, Danny seemed to be careful.. kinda.
Daniel picked up a piece of paper to lazily act as though he was examining it or something. All over exaggerated, really, and finally he cut the act when he tossed the paper back on the desk, dropping the look of caring. His mild expressions didn’t change much over the years, either.
”Poster Boy, eh, sounds hard,” his voice lacked much of any jest or mocking in it, though the blankness of his tone could have been just as sarcastic.
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there's bullet-holes where my compassion used to be
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Eric Renaud
Sophomore
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Gender: Male
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« Reply #4 on Sept 22, 2007, 2:32pm » | |
Eric pressed the soles of his shoes into the floor, ready to slide back and leave if he needed to. There was a sense of danger in Daniel's presence. He would not allow the male to threaten his peaceful life. When the boy got closer the scent of menthol ran up his nose. His insides felt like they were wrapped within a noose, pulling. The smell of smoke always made him queasy. Danny would be able to see that Eric's face had paled tremendously.
In his past life he could have sat quietly next to Daniel, enjoy his company, while the boy smoked his lungs to cinders. Eric's hands grasped the edge of the table, his knuckles white from the hold. Daniel could see that he was breathing little, to keep from inhaling smoke. Finally, the weakness dripped from his face and color touched Eric's cheeks. Politely, he looked to Daniel Ashers.
Yes, the taller male took to a different wardrobe. Everything looked new and well-fit. Eric knew he dressed better, the collar of his shirts accenting his collarbone and shoulders -- the long sleeves down to his wrists, a perfect fit. But there was a difference. Eric had that artistic flare he didn't have in the academy. Everything matched, except for the blue brimming beneath the dark tresses of his hair.
The paper moving in Daniel's hand flagged his attention to look. When the other male touched the white, he could hear a slight crinkling noise. Eric cleared his throat, even though he was mocked. Again, he stood, this time brave. He was taller but he still wasn't as tall as Daniel. The bag beneath the table hit against the tip of his shoe. "It's time-consuming, that's all," he didn't admit that it was hard for him because he stressed about schoolwork and sleep.
You look nice, he wanted to say, It's eerie. Looking closely, however, he could say Daniel looked worse physically. Years of smoking and drugs took the youthful glow of his ex-friend's face and covered it with deep shadows under the eye.
"Are you looking to join the art club?" he asked, knowing it wasn't the case but his best card was to act oblivious. "It's a little late for admissions but I am sure Professor Janecy wouldn't mind." Like he had dealt with this before, he bent to pick up his bag, removing a small white sheet of paper from his bag. Eric held it out to Daniel in offering. "Unless you're too busy, that's fine, you can come to weekend meetings." The paper he held out to Daniel shifted down, like he didn't want the boy to take it.
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I can't forget what you've forgotten, all along. |
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Daniel Ashers
Sophomore
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Posts: 8
Karma: 0 | | Re: White Papers {Open}
« Reply #5 on Sept 24, 2007, 7:58pm » | |
The aesthetics of the other boy were peculiar to him, when this kid looked away, Danny couldn’t help but cast his gaze toward him, trying to verify the details. Analyzing prey, he didn’t even bother to look away when Eric met his gaze, only making his gaze more casual, raising an eyebrow slightly as his eyes focused on the paper in his hand instead of Eric himself.
Taking the cigarette from his lips, he held it in his fingers as her took the paper from Eric’s hand, noticing the gesture of hesitation; he wanted to see whatever he was talking about. Art Club? Danny didn’t have an artistic bone in his body. That was Aymeric’s job. His ex-best friend’s name ringing in his head like a voice from the dead.
He hadn’t thought of that kid since High school, and it seemed like a million years ago, not two. Daniel ran his hand through his hair, putting the cigarette back to his lips and closed his eyes in an unspoken frustration. Rubbing his head was a habit now, further messing up his hair at the thought of the many stitches and staples he got inserted into his skull during many a fight with Ayemeric Ervais. Damn, just thinking about him gave Danny a head ache. He wouldn’t admit that his rival, enemy and best friend had that much effect on him. Even in college, and perhaps forever.
Unlike Aye, he couldn’t just get up and forget about him.
And this guy, the name was Eric – was it? - kept bringing that name to mind. Not once did Daniel think they were actually the same person, it was just the feeling that Daniel had when he saw this kid. Something about him made Daniel feel oddly territorial.
This is my customer. Or will be. So thus, mine.
”Sure,” Daniel said then, the agreement sounded foreign in his mouth, the exact opposite of what he wanted to say. Art Club, sounded like a hoot. Though that couldn’t be read in his tone, hollow, it could be taken as sarcasm or honesty, however sinister people thought he was.
”I love art,” he lied blatantly, but this kid wouldn’t know that. Only people that knew Danny would know.. and not many people could say they did. He raised an eyebrow, “When are you going to be there?”
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Eric Renaud
Sophomore
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Gender: Male
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« Reply #6 on Sept 24, 2007, 8:52pm » | |
As soon as Daniel said sure, Eric lifted his head in surprise. "Really?" he asked, like people wanting to be in the art club was real. Daniel had no idea Eric thought it a little strange the male across from him had a change of heart. Maybe there wasn't a mean streak in Daniel anymore, after all, he was being polite -- even nice. Somewhere deep inside he knew Daniel fibbed. Eric's lips creased into a slanted smile. Suspicious.
"I'm usually there for Thursday meetings, and the weekends sometimes, too. Most kids who live here go home on the weekends, so the meetings are scheduled on weekends when everyone can vote on being there," he explained, but he was far from interested to talk about the club. No, Eric wanted to know how Daniel Ashers made to SAU and why his clothes were nice.
Now the demeanor he used on strangers, his new friends and peers flowed naturally. He was Eric Renaud, kind as ever, and never bothered when a person really couldn't get the point to stop. He gave a good-natured smile at Daniel, his white teeth showing as he waved his left hand up. "But for right now I need to work on some posters. You're welcome to help but I don't blame you if you say no," and that was true, he wanted Daniel to say no. As soon as the other male left he would have his peace back.
Why are you being so nice? What do you want for me? Can he really not see past the changes?
With every person there was an individual look that came with their nose, mouth and eyes. Whether the face had youth, or too big of ears, the person grew into the features but it was all too familiar. It would be ridiculous if Daniel didn't know it was Aymeric Ervais under Eric's face with shorter hair, taller, a different style. Perhaps it was the lack of eye liner and the snake-bites digressed to the left side of his lip instead.
"What is your name?" a cautious question, waiting on the answer: It's me you idiot.
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I can't forget what you've forgotten, all along. |
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Daniel Ashers
Sophomore
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« Reply #7 on Sept 28, 2007, 2:56pm » | |
Daniel contemplated on Eric’s first statement on only being there on Thursdays. He had his own meetings on Thursdays and typically that wouldn’t work. He pondered whether adjusting his weekly meeting with a local stoner would be worth it, he didn’t want to lose him and then not get one to make up for it. Daniel hated having drugs on him, honestly, best to get it sold as soon as possible. He wasn’t going to go jail for this.
Only thing he had on him now was his empty pipe and some opium pills which he had a prescription for, though instead of using his pain pills, he simply sold them. Still, years later, he had pulsing black-out inducing migraines from getting his head smashed in the ground.. he recalled a time when he was almost drowned, knowing that probably killed more brain cells than Danny was willing to lose.. His eyes far off a moment as he had a flash of memory from his high school years.
Technically, he should have been brain dead. But no, he was still getting his degree in Algebraic Theory, he wasn’t a vegetable yet.
Really, since Aymeric Ervais, he had yet to be in a fatal fight. Every brawl he had been in since, Danny knew he was going to win. He had some ends to meet. Not nearly as random, but actually for a purpose.
Again, Danny rubbed his head just thinking about the ache, realizing he was getting distracted from his potential customer. He all ready knew his name, he made his business to know, but he didn’t know that. Best to be casual with this, like he had been.
And watching Eric as he looked away, he decided to continually pick him apart. If this was Aymeric, this would have been his revenge, but it wasn’t. This was Eric Renaud. Same age, different major, and potential customer.
Danny could really be a nice guy, if he wanted something from you.
“Daniel,” he contemplated a last name, and finally gave it, “..Ashers.”
And momentarily he watched as Eric looked away from him. Where his hair cut at the hair line, he saw a familiarity in the back on his neck, seeing the indentions of his spine. Funny how Daniel remembered trivial things like that that reminded him of someone else. The way the light hit their eyes, a spinal structure, maybe eventually he would notice the familiar hair color, the scar, body type.. other things that would give Aymeric Ervais. But he didn’t notice, not yet.
“…And.. I don’t mind watching you..?” his words hung off his tongue, as though wanting a name in return. He all ready knew it, or at least he thought he did.
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