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Thread: Humble Gift [M; Ashen & AyJay]

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    Default Humble Gift [M; Ashen & AyJay]

    Humble Gift
    ~♦∆♦~


    Keep Calm. As all, pain will pass.

    Azure eyes blinked at the dim light shining through the void. There was darkness all around him, burning through the inky clouds of his prison. Vaguely, he could hear coughing, and the silver haired boy sighed. So much pain; suffering around that he could taste it. Shuddering in disgust, he curled in on himself, scrunching his eyes close.

    Patience. It will pass.


    The old man coughed loudly, his throat painful and his body weak from an entire day of walking. The temperature had skyrocketed in the morning, but dropped so low during the evening that the old man barely had the ability to stay alive. How he longed for the warmth of his own house, but even though it was only a few minutes away, he felt himself growing weak.

    The measly belongings he carried were small gifts to him from old friends who had passed on. Right now, he crudely wondered why, despite knowing how temperature sensitive he was, did no one send him a jacket. Letting out another loud cough, he leaned against the wall, it being quite late already. The streets were empty and dim, but he was already feeling too tired to walk home.
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  2. #2
    The Ashen One
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    It was an extraordinarily slow day at Lazy Afternoons, and the store was certainly living up to its name. There were two customers in the entire store, and that lady was definitely not going to buy anything. Instead, dull eyes followed a young man around the aisles. Sykes could not leave from behind the counter, not with how understaffed they were, but he could easily see the teen throughout the entire store. Finally, the teen plucked a hardback off the shelf, and he made his way towards checkout.

    Sykes made no eye contact. He was not having a good day, and he didn't feel up for conversation. He simply took the book from the boy, turned it over, shoved it in a bag, and looked up past him. "Five dollars and thirty-one cents," he declared.
    The teen handed him a twenty. Seriously, a twenty? Sykes tried to not show his annoyance as he opened the cash register to realize they were out of tens. He looked up at the boy and made eye contact. The teen stood with an eyebrow raised, as if asking, Is everything okay? Sykes dropped his gaze and took two fives instead. "Sorry about the fives," he mumbled. He grabbed the rest of his change and handed it to him. Looking at the book once more, he smiled awkwardly. "That's... a really good book," he said. Catch-22, one of the only books about war he could handle.

    This was a normal day for Sykes. He worked at Lazy Afternoons Bookstore, a very small store that was behind in rent and severely understaffed. He couldn't find work in too many other places, though; he wasn't the most welcoming person around. After this shift, he'd get to go home to his lonely apartment, where the deafening silence blanketed him. Sykes was waiting for some release, some way out of the monotony of his life, but he didn't know where to even begin looking.
    Last edited by Ashen; 08-16-2015 at 03:11 AM.
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    The coughing louder and harsher, once again getting his attention. Azure eyes drifted upwards and he let out another sigh, knowing that despite wanting to be of help, he could do nothing to ease the discomfort. It was always like that anyway. Sighing softly again, he lifted his head, mouth forming gentle whispers as the darkness rolled around his pale frame.

    "Are you still feeling well, Hans?" He whispered softly, unable to even move from his suffocating position. If only he could be of little help. But alas, time passed by differently here, and who knows, maybe he's already in the future, the question falling on dead ears.

    All pain shall pass with little patience.


    Hans was coughing now, pained barks growing worse and worse as tge chilly air seeped into his bones. Vaguely, he could heae the soft chime of the music box and he had to smile a bit. He always was so thoughtful.

    Letting out a ragged breath, he forced himself to walk, nearly stumbling after he passed a book store and a coffee shop. Sniffing slightly, he shivered and patted the small outlined shape of the box. "I'll be fine Zeiss." He murmured softly, coughing loudly after his sentence. Vaguely, he heard the soft tinkle once more before pain clutched at his chest, forcing him on his kness.
    Last edited by Argon Jaden; 07-01-2016 at 01:54 AM.
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  4. #4
    The Ashen One
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    There was just half an hour left. He could survive half an hour. Sykes busied himself with counting the money, making sure none was missing. When he finished that, he looked around at the new bestsellers on the counters and shelves around him. He could read one, sure, but he wasn't much in a mood for reading, not now. He sighed and looked around the empty store when he heard a commotion outside. Living in New York, there were plenty of commotions on the streets. But it truly sounded like someone was dying out there.

    Sykes turned away from the door so he wouldn't have to listen to whatever it was outside. The coughing fit seemed to worsen, though, and Sykes realized he'd have to do something. He left his post by the cash register and checked outside. Someone was knelt over, choking. He couldn't breathe. Sykes stood awkwardly before speaking up. "Hey kid, you okay?" Stupid question; of course not. Realizing this, he scratched the back of his head and spoke again. "Do you want some water? Or, like, I don't know. Do you need help?"

    Sykes wasn't the best at talking to people, and this much was obvious. He was trained, though. He could do CPR, but he wanted to wait first. Maybe it was a cold. Maybe it was just some sickness. What if it was contagious? No one else outside seemed to be paying much attention to the two. Sykes bit his lip and looked down once more. "Do you need me to do CPR?"
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    "J-just water." Hans wheezed out, trying to get his breathing to normalize. He was no kid, though he sometimes wished that he was seventeen rather than seventy. His deteriorating health was another subject worth discussing. He wheezed again, coughed, hearing the soft tinkle of the music box

    "Are you okay? Please be okay."

    Zeiss's question translated into soft whispers and turned into tunes from the music box. He was worried, after all. The coughing grew louder and he vaguely heard another voice. Sighing softly, he shook his head, opting to listen.
    Last edited by Argon Jaden; 07-01-2016 at 01:55 AM.
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  6. #6
    The Ashen One
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    Water. Where the hell was he supposed to find water in a bookstore? Sykes didn't say a word as he retreated into the store. He went to the bathroom, intending to get water from the faucet, but he had no cup. He had no container of any kind. Then he seemed to realize something, and he went to fetch the backpack he brought to work every day. There was a water bottle inside; he always had a water bottle in his bag and drank throughout the day. Sometimes it wasn't even water in the bottle; Sykes didn't care much for the rules of underage drinking. But it was water today, and though he didn't like the idea of this guy drinking his water from his bottle, he didn't have much choice.

    Sykes returned outside and shoved the bottle at him. "Here," he said, but it struck him that the guy was choking too hard to even be able to drink by himself. Oh, no. He was not going to tip the bottle to his lips, too. Sykes shoved the bottle towards him again, looking mildly annoyed. He should have been getting ready to get home, not taking care of some stranger.

    Up close, Sykes realized he wasn't at all a kid. He looked older, much older. An old man was about to kick the bucket right in front of him. Well, wasn't that lovely, Sykes would get to witness another death. Tack another name on to the ever growing list.
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    "T-thank you." Hans replied, tipping the bottle up to his lips, feeling the cool liquid slide down his throat, soothing the pain. Water almost always helped these situations. Trying not to be too greedy, he pulled the mouth away and turned his head to cough one last time.

    "Hans? Are you feeling better now?"

    Smiling at the youth, he let out another rough cough. "I apologize for bothering you. I never thought I couldn't walk this far." He said with a laugh, before an idea came to mind. Zeiss would be a well-taken care of if he was with his own age, wouldn't he?
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  8. #8
    The Ashen One
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    Sykes scratched at the back of this head. "Well yeah, old people usually can't," he muttered. He looked around. Still, no one was paying any attention to them. What was he supposed to do now? Offer to let him inside? Sykes wanted to go home, not deal with this guy. But he stood less than patiently and looked very bored. He did not move, and wouldn't until he knew the man was okay. Maybe he wasn't such a horrible person after all.

    He pulled a phone out of his pocket and checked the time. He'd miss his bus, and he'd have to wait a long while for the next one. Well, it wouldn't be the first time. He turned his attention back to the man. "Can I call someone for you or something?"
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    Chuckling slightly, he shook his head and slowly helped himself up. Hans could feel the soft sound of the music box clingking, followed by a barely audible voice of concern. Taking a few deep breaths, he staggered on his feet and smiled. "Thank you for the water, though I feel like I shouldn't bother you much longer." He said. A small smile crossed his face.

    "Thank you... Oh, would you mind holding this for a moment while I try to contact my wife?" He asked, pulling out a light blue, circular music box, intricately decorated with silver and sapphires. "It's a bit heavy, and I would need to walk over to the payphone just to call." He said with a kind smile.
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  10. #10
    The Ashen One
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    Sykes examined the box a minute before taking it into his hands. He didn't know what it was. It looked like a music box or a makeup box, he wasn't quite sure. But why would he have to hold it? It wasn't even that heavy. This old man wouldn't be handing him, say, a bomb in a box, would he? Sykes was wary, but he tried not to think about it too much.

    "You could use my phone," he suggested. If he did, maybe he'd be done quicker. "Here." Sykes went to grab for his phone. He unlocked it and brought it to the call menu. "As long as she's not from across the world. I'm not about to pay some long-distance charge for you." Probably could have been worded better, but at least he was offering.
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