St. Aslepius University - Invite (Brock)

St. Aslepius University :: •Campus Grounds :: Balcombe Plaza :: Central Field :: Invite (Brock)

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Adele Thayer
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Invite (Brock)
« Thread Started on Sept 15, 2007, 7:31pm »

Chirping, laughter and sounds of bubbly conversation filled the air and took to the breeze. Saturday afternoons were always a day every student looked forward to. Stress less, certainly, because there were no classes in session. However, full-time students had to worry about the schoolwork that always happened to be assigned in abundance. Responsible students finished their tasks on Friday to have an open Saturday and Sunday.

Adele took the responsible route and had her schoolwork done as soon as she entered her dorm. She wore jeans rolled up to her knees and a white t-shirt. The tall grass brushed against her ankles and her sandals were discarded under the picnic table nearby. Within her lap sat a notebook with words jotted down. There were a few other items settled on the bench but it was hard to make out.

The sun made spots upon the table, the rays catching her hair whenever she sat up straight. Like most days, she wore her hair down, the wavy strands brushing against her cheek whenever she moved. The pen in her left hand started to drum in patterns on the wood of the furniture.

11:45.

That was the time she left to make it here. A few more minutes and noon would come. This time she would listen for the clock tower. I hope he got my letter. Worry started to itch at her.

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Brock Butschky
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Re: Invite (Brock)
« Reply #1 on Sept 15, 2007, 8:57pm »

Worry had to have eaten at her at 11:50 when there was still no sign.

11:55 came like the speed of light and blew past into 11:56, 11:57, and 11:58.

Brock had always been fond of saying Reality is relative, but he also said Time is relative depending on the occasion. He was right: it's amazing how these little minutes can fly by so quickly when they pass so slowly when you're doing something you dislike.

11:59.

He also found it amazing that if you truly concentrated and you truly tried, you could make a minute last forever.

He had a penchant for being on time.

His hands were in his pockets when he approached the picnic table at which Adele sat. When he sat down across from her, anyone carefully paying attention to a watch of any sort would have seen that moment in front of them, perfect and flawless: 12:00.

Not a second over.

"You were here early," he said, the amusement clear on his bright, boyish face. "You were worried I wouldn't come, weren't you?"

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The darksome statesman, hung with weights and woe,
Like a thick midnight-fog, moved there so slow,
He did not stay, nor go.

Adele Thayer
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Re: Invite (Brock)
« Reply #2 on Sept 15, 2007, 9:28pm »

Adele lifted her feet, allowing her toes to grace the grass. She disliked the concept to wear shoes. Sometimes shoes weren't soft and caused blisters. Being outside allowed her to breathe and recollect her thoughts. When her eyes were focused on the tree closest to the picnic table, she heard the wood creak with another presence.

The noise drew her attention to Brock and his boyish face. "Yes but not to wait. I'm not very patient. There was an essay I had to finish and sitting outside gives me inspiration." Lifting the notebook out of her lap, she set it on the table and placed the pen in the center of white.

"Thank you for coming," she smiled at the black-hearted boy, taking in his face and his crisp attire. Adele could have sworn he stepped out of a magazine. "Do you like tea, Brock?" Still, from Brock's position, he would be unable to see what she had scattered on the other side of the bench.

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Brock Butschky
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Re: Invite (Brock)
« Reply #3 on Sept 16, 2007, 12:47pm »

No one ever asked questions like 'Do you like this?' or 'Do you like that?' in such a situation without having brought that specific thing or having plans to do something pertaining to that thing. This knowledge was why he didn't say 'Oh, I prefer coffee, actually' or 'Well, I'll drink it if it's available' but offered, "Tea is lovely; I drink it frequently. I enjoy the blend the tea shops let you make -- the one that tastes like chocolate."

Which was true. It was drinking a healthy thing while getting the taste of something that should have added six pounds to your frame by the time you were done.

"But really," he continued, lifting his right palm to his cheek, elbow resting on the tabletop as he propped his head up, both eyes set ahead and focusing on the way Adele's face looked in the afternoon sunlight, contemplative and quiet. Around the wrist was a small slice of white, tied neatly into a bow.

The ribbon.

"There's no need for thanks, you know. My Saturday would have been boring if not for you."

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The darksome statesman, hung with weights and woe,
Like a thick midnight-fog, moved there so slow,
He did not stay, nor go.

Adele Thayer
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Re: Invite (Brock)
« Reply #4 on Sept 16, 2007, 3:39pm »

A breeze lifted the page of her notebook making a distinct sound. Adele's eyes dropped for a moment. Unlike most people who were able to do homework with white-noise, she proffered complete silence. She moved the pen closer to the edge of the paper filled with black scribbles of her writing. Once Brock spoke, her eyes lifted to his face politely and smiled at his answer.

"They're all right," she gave her opinion on the chocolate blend, "But if it's chocolate I prefer the real deal from smaller cafes. Like hot chocolate or chocolate milk."

Adele's face looked mischievous as she shifted her weight. While her hands disappeared beneath the table her eyes looked back to Brock who wore the ribbon she had tied around the flower stems during their first meeting. She said nothing of it but it gave her enthusiasm to present Brock with a small basket. "We made these during class," she explained, "There is suppose to be some great meaning behind it to the person we give it to, but I figured it'd be a nice gift for you."

Using her fingers she scooted the basket closer. Maybe his pupils would grow and the weight of darkness wouldn't crush the feeble emotions trying to find the correct expression. Inside the basket were homemade foods and tea bags. From left to right: chocolates, cookies, crackers with toppings, cheese, and bread sticks.

"The ribbon looks nice on you," she didn't look away from Brock's face, however.

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Brock Butschky
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Re: Invite (Brock)
« Reply #5 on Sept 16, 2007, 4:09pm »

The pupils didn't grow, but the eyes did widen. The wider they got, the more light absorbed into them and the darkness threatened to disappear completely. He looked down at the basket and looked at all that was in it, mouth something quite stupid like someone who has never received such a thoughtful gift before in their lives.

That was a lie, because the last person who had given him a gift of this home-made, personal nature had been his mother.

Adele Klein made lunches, wrote letters on napkins, and made things like sweet gift baskets monthly.

When he reached his hands out to accept the gift, eyes still as wide and eyebrows still lifted as wide as they had been before, he wasn't sure what to say.

His problem wasn't so much finding the right expression as it was finding the correct words.

"You know, I haven't received such a thoughtful gift in years." Elias Sven's gift was the only other gift he had ever received. "I almost don't want to eat any of it. I wish I could keep it." Chances were that he'd keep the tea bags for as long as he could, even after the smell ran clear out of them. "Thank you."

Even though it was short, the feeling behind it was genuinely stunned with kindness. Everything he'd said had been honest.

"This ribbon?" he wondered, lifting his eyes from the contents of the basket back up to Adele. "It's wonderful. I'm flattered you gave it to me. I used to wear a ribbon like it, you know, except it was pink. This one looks better against my skin tone."

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The darksome statesman, hung with weights and woe,
Like a thick midnight-fog, moved there so slow,
He did not stay, nor go.

Adele Thayer
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Re: Invite (Brock)
« Reply #6 on Sept 16, 2007, 6:47pm »

Wide, very wide, Adele leaned her torso against the table's edge to get a closer look at the gems in Brock's eyes to make up that sharp green. A gift wasn't supposed to offend, so when Brock became speechless she knew the idea behind it had gone into effect. She tried not to grin and allowed her the muscles in her face to strain.

"Oh no," she curved her mouth with her words, "Don't keep it. Enjoy it because I like to make them. Each one has a theme." Her eyes reluctantly went away from Brock's wide-eyes and looked down at the basket, "It's a greeting basket. Usually these types are appropriate for businesses but they're also good for new friends." Adele lifted her index finger and pointed at the basket.

"You're welcome. Glad you like it," her toes curled into the grass and she swung her legs a little. Absentmindedly her toes touched Brock's shoe off-and-on. Her pale eyes shifted to the bracelet, trying to imagine a pink. That same homosexual theory popped up in her head but people never heard: Hey, my name is so-and-so and I am gay. Friends usually found that out over time. If a friendship this meeting turned out to be.

Adele would have let the boy know he didn't have to wear it. Yet he did it by choice and it flattered her. Brock's sunglasses sat on the bench, along with her bag. "Your arms.." her voice trailed, "You said it was because you turned others to stone. What happened? If you don't want to talk about it, I understand." She could see the blue, black and sick yellow or perhaps green, spotting the beautiful tan arms.

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Brock Butschky
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Re: Invite (Brock)
« Reply #7 on Oct 19, 2007, 10:19pm »

The toes that touched his shoe on and off didn't bother him, but they only helped to fuel the distraction he felt as he went through the basket, head tilted to the side while he touched the only gift he'd received in years.

Adele was almost correct.

In this world, there were hundreds of people who introduced and identified themselves by their sexuality -- where a conversation starter as innocent as 'Hi, my name is ____' could be met with 'Oh, I'm gay!', which could leave the other confused and wondering if 'Gay' really, truly was that person's first name -- and if so, what parent would dare name their child something like that?

"Ah?" he wondered, although these noises of surprise weren't usually his type of thing. When he looked across at Adele, eyes still somewhat wide and expression still somewhat dumb, he didn't quite understand what she was talking about.

It took looking at his own arms to realise that they were, in fact, still bruised. "Oh," he said afterward, voice betraying a hint of something like shock. He was surprised that he'd forgotten: the purpose of wearing a shirt like this had been to show them off.

More than pleased to share his story, Brock chirped, "These are from Elias Sven. Elly and I have been friends for a fair amount of time." Was 'friends' really the right word for it? "The other night he became angry at me and hit me with an umbrella. I must confess: I provoked him and deserved it, though I don't believe he needed to stab at me so. The deeper marks are from the tip."

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The darksome statesman, hung with weights and woe,
Like a thick midnight-fog, moved there so slow,
He did not stay, nor go.

Adele Thayer
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Re: Invite (Brock)
« Reply #8 on Oct 21, 2007, 5:16pm »

A soft nice breeze passed by. It picked up the girl's hair, moving whatever strands resting on her cheek to pull back and rest over behind her shoulders. She didn't fight the wind or move her hand to push her golden locks back over her shoulder, instead, she leaned back to get a better look at Brock. He had such a confused look, like he had forgotten who he was or what he was doing. She would have laughed at such a face, but for some reason she couldn't find herself amused.

Elias Sven? Now it was her turn to be shocked and a little dumbfounded. Adele's face twisted into surprise. Brock must have been a model as well, if he was friends with Elias Sven. Her lids lifted in amazement, her shoulders dropping so her elbows could rest upon the table. Casually, she reached her left hand out to take Brock's right hand into her own. She squeezed tightly onto his fingers and gave him a sympathetic look.

"No one deserves to be hit, unless you hit him first," and yet she couldn't see such a gentle creature going after some vain boy with a hand raised. The very thought caused her to crunch her fingers tightly with Brock's, the frown creasing the usually calm face. "That is beside the point," her other hand shifted to practically trap Brock hands between her own.

Men, her thoughts echoed, Always a bit rough on the edges.

"My sister is an avid fan of Elias Sven, she will practically fume with jealousy when I tell her that Mr. Sven is a violent friend," despite the frown taking over her features, there was teasing in her voice. At least her feet were back in the grass, rather than poking at Brock's shoes.

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