Working Notes 2
Wordcount: 1,698
Working notes 2
May Tenth, Three Forty-Five p.m
I arrive early but Sub. is sitting in hallway to my office, back against door, half-gone cigarette held between lips. Looks reasonably comfortable, aside from a tense, pinched expression, and four butts on floor beside him show that he has been there for a while.
-Rupert. How long have you been waiting? You could have phoned you know.
Sub. starts, as though not expecting anything.
-Does it matter how long I’ve been here? I just… I just had to get away from those fucking imbeciles, and this seemed like as good an excuse as any. If I had to stay there any longer, then I was gonna wind up hitting someone, and I figured that probably wouldn’t have been a good look, you know? And besides, you’re slightly less of an idiot then most, I guess, or they wouldn’t have given me to you, would they?
Interesting. Could be a good starting point.
Taps cigarette ash into palm of hand, closes fist around it, and when opened it’s gone. Not particularly good, but not something that I haven’t seen before.
-Rupert, you know you’re not meant to…
Gives me a look that I’ve come to recognize, and I know what he’s going to saw, before he says it.
-Go screw yourself.
May sound hostile, but almost ritual, now. Doesn’t appear to want to move.
-If you’d care to shift over so that I can get the door unlocked? Of course, we could always stay out here if you’d prefer.
Stands, and pushed door open. Looks back and shrugs.
-I picked it. So sue me, I wanted something to do.
-Rupert, you’re-
-Oh don’t you start giving me all that shit about what I’m not meant to be doing. I’ve heard enough of that today already, thank-you very much.
Better to take this inside.
-If you’d like to go in, then?
-Not particularly.
Enters, throws himself onto chair closest to desk.
Wait for him to speak, but doesn’t appear to be forthcoming.
-So, we’ve got a spot of minor magic, which isn’t actually all the minor considering your history and current state of being, you’ve obviously walked out of class, and you’ve picked the lock on my door for the sake of it. What else did you want to add to the list, then, that you weren’t meant to be doing?
Closes eyes, looking pained.
-It’s the first time in fucking years that I’ve missed his birthday. I had one fucking glass, and that grand king of the wankers, Travers had to come in just when I was finishing the bloody thing. Called me a waste of time, wanted to know if I was naturally thick or deliberately being obtuse. It… it may be an understatement to say that I almost lost it.
Almost lost it? Another point for later.
-His birthday?
Confirmation.
-Ethan’s. Some days I wish I’d never met the cunt; and others...
Falls silent again, gaze resting on a set of rosary beads, over a picture. Not seeing them, but still something else to get him talking again. Keep working at him.
-Those were my grandmothers.
Blinks, and actually looks.
-Was there anything that you believed in?
Looks distant.
-Trickster gods and venom smiles, spread across the black.
-Hmm?
-One of my songs. (See Att 1-7) Only deity I believe in these days, really, Doc, is the one of fucked up ironies.
Silence, again, although this time gathering himself.
-It seemed fun at the time, you know. Beginnings and endings, right and wrong, good and evil, light and darkness, focus on the big areas to find those spaces between the rules. The… the gray areas, I guess. Those tiny little hidey-holes, where the big stuff can keep you safe from what’s outside. Always his interest more than mine, though. I was just along for the ride really, and because I knew that if the High Lord Bastard ever found out it’d annoy the hell out of him.
-I’m sorry?
-My father. I meant my father.
-And it?
-Chaos. The thing that made the world dance to a bright, shiny tune. It didn’t matter if there were mice in the flat, when you could see where they fit into the web of the world. I asked him to come back to sanity with me you know. The top dogs probably would have had a synchronized seizure, but I figured it was worth a shot.
-You were the counterweight, weren’t you?
Looking suspicious.
-How the hell you know that sort of terminology?
-I read up a little after they told me that I was going to be working with you. Enough so that I knew what I was dealing with, Rupert. I didn’t feel that coming into this blind would have been good for either of us.
Body language defensive. If he doesn’t relax then I can write this session off, too. If he leaves, that’ll make it three sessions that he’s walked out on.
-Was there anything else that drew you in?
Looks like he’s considering leaving me without an answer. Eyes flick towards door, then back.
-I knew it was risky, from go. I half-hoped that if I took the plunge myself, then I might be able to get both of us out, when push came to shove, you know? But he was about power, even that early on, too. And by the time that stupid decisions led to Randal’s… death (hesitates over the word) we were all wrapped up in the magic, had been for too long. It was either a case of getting out, while I still had the sense of self to get out, or give in to it completely.
-You made the right choice, Rupert.
-You think so? Times are, I’m not so sure about that. Not like anyone here will ever trust me with any more than a fucking manila folder for the rest of my life. I mean, Travers said it himself, nothing more than a waste of time and space. Don’t bloody know why they wanted me back in the first place, when apparently I’m not worth the breath it takes to say my last name, to them, unless it’s about keeping track of the bloody loose ends.
-And if you’d stayed?
-I’d have gone down in flames, yeah. But at least I’d have had the ride of my life while on the way down. Living with everything on the other hand; now that’s what really bites. If I’d been able to watch the destruction of someone that I cared for, then I would have. Better to ask for forgiveness than permission, after all.
-Isn’t that what you’re doing here, though? Seeking to make things up?
-Honest truth is that I don’t fucking know, Doc. I… I don’t know why I bothered, and I don’t know why I keep trying. I could get out, and the others couldn’t. You call it the right choice? It was the selfish one, more like. I wanted to save my own ass.
-Come, now, I know just as well you do that there was more to it than that.
-Come on then, enlighten me.
Sits back in chair, puts feet up on my desk. Trying to look like doesn’t have a care in the world.
-I think you did it because you knew where you belonged, after seeing what was in the darkness.
-Belonged? So that’s what you call this feeling where you wake up every single damned day and feel like the world’s too small for you to breath? If that’s belonging, then you know exactly where you can stick it.
-It takes time, Rupert.
-Yeah? Tell me something I don’t fucking know. Give it time seems to be a third of all that I hear these days.
-And the other two thirds?
Pulls cigarette of from behind his ear, takes lighter from pocket, lights up. Takes a couple of deep drags, before taping the ash into the glass that he’s used the last few times, which he must have set on the desk earlier.
-Try harder, and the insults.
Flashes a grin.
-How much of a stir did you think it’d make if I walked out again?
Attitude tells me that he’s not talking about walking out of here, but rather, out of his life again. Not the first time that he’s sounded the possibility, although it is the first time that he’s done so with any seriousness.
-Do you really want to? Do you think that they would let you?
-Probably not. But even then, there’s a part of me, finds the thought preferable to sitting around here, waiting for something that’s probably never going to happen.
-And what did you want to happen?
Frowns, thinking. Takes more of the cigarette, closes eyes.
-I wanted to start feeling better. At the moment I just… I feel so fucking useless. I feel like I’m trying to breathe through a mask that’s already too tight, and with every minute I hang around, every breath that I take it just keeps getting tighter.
Opens eyes again, meets my gaze.
-Tell me how it; how any of it works. Please.
-I’m sorry, Rupert. Discovering that is something that’s a life-long process. Surely you know by now, that there is no quick fix for life. Believe me, if there were one then I’d have used it myself.
Finishes off cigarette and drops butt into glass as well, as per habit.
-I guess.
Looking tired. Glances at watch, and stands to leave.
-One more things, Rupert.
-Yeah?
-Did you still play?
-Not since I came back. Why, that gonna be the next thing that you ban me from? Life doesn’t drag enough already, so.
-Actually, quite the opposite. You know, music is mean to have therapeutic properties. Maybe if you took a little time for yourself, then things might seem a little less trying.
Looks surprised, as though he didn’t expect it.
-You know, I might just do that. Thanks.
First time he’s ever thanked me. It makes for a nice change.
-And I’ll see you again next week.
Shrugs.
-Same time, same channel. If I’m still around.
Time: Five-Fifteen p.m
Working notes 2
May Tenth, Three Forty-Five p.m
I arrive early but Sub. is sitting in hallway to my office, back against door, half-gone cigarette held between lips. Looks reasonably comfortable, aside from a tense, pinched expression, and four butts on floor beside him show that he has been there for a while.
-Rupert. How long have you been waiting? You could have phoned you know.
Sub. starts, as though not expecting anything.
-Does it matter how long I’ve been here? I just… I just had to get away from those fucking imbeciles, and this seemed like as good an excuse as any. If I had to stay there any longer, then I was gonna wind up hitting someone, and I figured that probably wouldn’t have been a good look, you know? And besides, you’re slightly less of an idiot then most, I guess, or they wouldn’t have given me to you, would they?
Interesting. Could be a good starting point.
Taps cigarette ash into palm of hand, closes fist around it, and when opened it’s gone. Not particularly good, but not something that I haven’t seen before.
-Rupert, you know you’re not meant to…
Gives me a look that I’ve come to recognize, and I know what he’s going to saw, before he says it.
-Go screw yourself.
May sound hostile, but almost ritual, now. Doesn’t appear to want to move.
-If you’d care to shift over so that I can get the door unlocked? Of course, we could always stay out here if you’d prefer.
Stands, and pushed door open. Looks back and shrugs.
-I picked it. So sue me, I wanted something to do.
-Rupert, you’re-
-Oh don’t you start giving me all that shit about what I’m not meant to be doing. I’ve heard enough of that today already, thank-you very much.
Better to take this inside.
-If you’d like to go in, then?
-Not particularly.
Enters, throws himself onto chair closest to desk.
Wait for him to speak, but doesn’t appear to be forthcoming.
-So, we’ve got a spot of minor magic, which isn’t actually all the minor considering your history and current state of being, you’ve obviously walked out of class, and you’ve picked the lock on my door for the sake of it. What else did you want to add to the list, then, that you weren’t meant to be doing?
Closes eyes, looking pained.
-It’s the first time in fucking years that I’ve missed his birthday. I had one fucking glass, and that grand king of the wankers, Travers had to come in just when I was finishing the bloody thing. Called me a waste of time, wanted to know if I was naturally thick or deliberately being obtuse. It… it may be an understatement to say that I almost lost it.
Almost lost it? Another point for later.
-His birthday?
Confirmation.
-Ethan’s. Some days I wish I’d never met the cunt; and others...
Falls silent again, gaze resting on a set of rosary beads, over a picture. Not seeing them, but still something else to get him talking again. Keep working at him.
-Those were my grandmothers.
Blinks, and actually looks.
-Was there anything that you believed in?
Looks distant.
-Trickster gods and venom smiles, spread across the black.
-Hmm?
-One of my songs. (See Att 1-7) Only deity I believe in these days, really, Doc, is the one of fucked up ironies.
Silence, again, although this time gathering himself.
-It seemed fun at the time, you know. Beginnings and endings, right and wrong, good and evil, light and darkness, focus on the big areas to find those spaces between the rules. The… the gray areas, I guess. Those tiny little hidey-holes, where the big stuff can keep you safe from what’s outside. Always his interest more than mine, though. I was just along for the ride really, and because I knew that if the High Lord Bastard ever found out it’d annoy the hell out of him.
-I’m sorry?
-My father. I meant my father.
-And it?
-Chaos. The thing that made the world dance to a bright, shiny tune. It didn’t matter if there were mice in the flat, when you could see where they fit into the web of the world. I asked him to come back to sanity with me you know. The top dogs probably would have had a synchronized seizure, but I figured it was worth a shot.
-You were the counterweight, weren’t you?
Looking suspicious.
-How the hell you know that sort of terminology?
-I read up a little after they told me that I was going to be working with you. Enough so that I knew what I was dealing with, Rupert. I didn’t feel that coming into this blind would have been good for either of us.
Body language defensive. If he doesn’t relax then I can write this session off, too. If he leaves, that’ll make it three sessions that he’s walked out on.
-Was there anything else that drew you in?
Looks like he’s considering leaving me without an answer. Eyes flick towards door, then back.
-I knew it was risky, from go. I half-hoped that if I took the plunge myself, then I might be able to get both of us out, when push came to shove, you know? But he was about power, even that early on, too. And by the time that stupid decisions led to Randal’s… death (hesitates over the word) we were all wrapped up in the magic, had been for too long. It was either a case of getting out, while I still had the sense of self to get out, or give in to it completely.
-You made the right choice, Rupert.
-You think so? Times are, I’m not so sure about that. Not like anyone here will ever trust me with any more than a fucking manila folder for the rest of my life. I mean, Travers said it himself, nothing more than a waste of time and space. Don’t bloody know why they wanted me back in the first place, when apparently I’m not worth the breath it takes to say my last name, to them, unless it’s about keeping track of the bloody loose ends.
-And if you’d stayed?
-I’d have gone down in flames, yeah. But at least I’d have had the ride of my life while on the way down. Living with everything on the other hand; now that’s what really bites. If I’d been able to watch the destruction of someone that I cared for, then I would have. Better to ask for forgiveness than permission, after all.
-Isn’t that what you’re doing here, though? Seeking to make things up?
-Honest truth is that I don’t fucking know, Doc. I… I don’t know why I bothered, and I don’t know why I keep trying. I could get out, and the others couldn’t. You call it the right choice? It was the selfish one, more like. I wanted to save my own ass.
-Come, now, I know just as well you do that there was more to it than that.
-Come on then, enlighten me.
Sits back in chair, puts feet up on my desk. Trying to look like doesn’t have a care in the world.
-I think you did it because you knew where you belonged, after seeing what was in the darkness.
-Belonged? So that’s what you call this feeling where you wake up every single damned day and feel like the world’s too small for you to breath? If that’s belonging, then you know exactly where you can stick it.
-It takes time, Rupert.
-Yeah? Tell me something I don’t fucking know. Give it time seems to be a third of all that I hear these days.
-And the other two thirds?
Pulls cigarette of from behind his ear, takes lighter from pocket, lights up. Takes a couple of deep drags, before taping the ash into the glass that he’s used the last few times, which he must have set on the desk earlier.
-Try harder, and the insults.
Flashes a grin.
-How much of a stir did you think it’d make if I walked out again?
Attitude tells me that he’s not talking about walking out of here, but rather, out of his life again. Not the first time that he’s sounded the possibility, although it is the first time that he’s done so with any seriousness.
-Do you really want to? Do you think that they would let you?
-Probably not. But even then, there’s a part of me, finds the thought preferable to sitting around here, waiting for something that’s probably never going to happen.
-And what did you want to happen?
Frowns, thinking. Takes more of the cigarette, closes eyes.
-I wanted to start feeling better. At the moment I just… I feel so fucking useless. I feel like I’m trying to breathe through a mask that’s already too tight, and with every minute I hang around, every breath that I take it just keeps getting tighter.
Opens eyes again, meets my gaze.
-Tell me how it; how any of it works. Please.
-I’m sorry, Rupert. Discovering that is something that’s a life-long process. Surely you know by now, that there is no quick fix for life. Believe me, if there were one then I’d have used it myself.
Finishes off cigarette and drops butt into glass as well, as per habit.
-I guess.
Looking tired. Glances at watch, and stands to leave.
-One more things, Rupert.
-Yeah?
-Did you still play?
-Not since I came back. Why, that gonna be the next thing that you ban me from? Life doesn’t drag enough already, so.
-Actually, quite the opposite. You know, music is mean to have therapeutic properties. Maybe if you took a little time for yourself, then things might seem a little less trying.
Looks surprised, as though he didn’t expect it.
-You know, I might just do that. Thanks.
First time he’s ever thanked me. It makes for a nice change.
-And I’ll see you again next week.
Shrugs.
-Same time, same channel. If I’m still around.
Time: Five-Fifteen p.m