[ closed ]

[restingstitchface]

Who: Crane + James
When: December
Where: Horizon
What: First Meetings
Warnings: None

[The gate serves as a clear boundary between one realm and another: four gargoyles perched upon an ornamental arch overlooking a path. It travels a short distance, leading towards a distinctly gothic and ornamental hall whose windows are surrounded by frosted ivy. The gateway is an open shelter against the wind and snow, tolerable at best.

Crane approaches the gateway through a heavy layer of freezing fog; a whiteout that makes him difficult to spot until his footsteps are close enough to hear. He shakes out his umbrella and scatters the collected snow, now close enough to see the man huddled in the gateway.]

Would you like to come in out of the cold?

Comments

[hurtling]

( unaware of just how thrilling his fear was to the other man, james continued on this loop like an animal in a cage. pacing back and forth out of a nervous compulsion.

it's only when the question really begins to settle into his mind and thoughts, that he finally stopped in the middle of the path he had created. where was he going?

to the drinks? no. he had decided he didn't need that clutch anymore. )

I guess nowhere, all I can do is try and remember where I came from. I remember arriving to the Free Cities now that I think about it...

but anything before that? It's like a dark fog that envelopes me.

[restingstitchface]

[Rituals. Superstitions. Both are necessary for man to survive. Both are so easily manipulated. Crane focuses his attention on James while his gaze looks around. One can forget where they come from. One cannot easily forget culture and tradition; the rules of living to which everyone must adhere.]

Does anything about this place look familiar? The books on my shelves, the names on those bottles, the painting...

[Ulysses by James Joyce. The Diagnostic and Statistics Manual. Journals of psychiatry. Jack Daniels. The Scream by Munch. Nothing might be memorable personally. But James looks like any man from Gotham. Chances are they share the same earth, figuratively speaking. And thinking of home? Well, that might elicit something.

Or not. Wouldn't that be fun?]

[hurtling]

( well they were technically from a similar earth-

only his happened to have a small town overrun by cult members, leading to the formation of the other world that took a hold of silent hill. however the items in the room were familiar to him, enough that he recognized the book, the brand of liquor, and the paintings. so with a soft sigh, he finally spoke up. )

Yes, it's all familiar. I've seen it at home and elsewhere...

( the random poems, sonnets, and lyrical sheets scattered about in silent hill in his latest loop were also found in crane's world. )

I can remember that much at least.

[restingstitchface]

And isn't that wonderful? Each of those represent a moment for you. And really, good memories are all we ever want, right?

[Crane returns to leaning back against his chair. One hand on his knee, one on an armrest. How many good memories can you remember when you lose your wife? How many do you want to forget?]

You're going to remember everything when you leave this place. I wouldn't worry too much.

[hurtling]

Good memories huh? For some strange reason...

( when he thought about it, the items in this space did seem to speak to him. whether it was because his experience was a universal one or they were deliberate [much like the symbolism in the other world], he wasn't sure on. what he was sure about was how good memories seemed to be so far from him.

all he could feel was negativity about the whole thing and it began to make him anxious. )

I can't help but think I have none, but then I guess I should leave soon then? So I can remember not be worried.

[restingstitchface]

[Crane says nothing at first. He rises from his chair and clasps his hands across his stomach, presenting with enough good manners to show his guest the door. Once the man is ready to leave, of course. Because much as James is admitting he thinks he should leave, he is still lingering.

Malingering.

His internal smile is missing from his face. Meanwhile, he prepares his words and observes his subject for any change in mood or expression.]

I think you should do whatever makes you happy.

[Supportive words. But he knows they are not likely to solve everything that ails.]

me gasping at my typo, oops

[hurtling]

Thank you...

( the feeling that comes over james is like a ghost that began to reside with him, making every word and every movement heavy. he knows he should get going, not impose further-

yet he's still intrigued by this man and this plane of existence. was it curiosity or a lack of self-perseverance? perhaps crane knew the answer in the end. what james does next though, is he returns back to the area with the bar, reaching for a small bottle. he began to walk out the door, turning around to face crane one last time before finally deciding to head out. )

One for the road...while I figure out who exactly I am.