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Waylaid [Self]

Postby crow » 10/19/2014 12:45 AM

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Alain had been having such strange dreams as of late.

At first, he'd attempted to ignore them. Business carried on as usual, and there were no unusual clients. Just as an old sailor always knew when a storm was coming, so too did Alain know when one of his special customers was going to show up. This was not one of those times.

He wasn't the sort to dream, at least not in coherent thoughts. In fact, he didn't even sleep as humans slept. In his case, it was more a state of being differently conscious, and it happened whenever he had the time to sit quietly by himself.
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[2]

Postby crow » 10/19/2014 12:45 AM

For the most part, his dreams were abstract things, colors and shapes and the kind of sense that he only had in dreams. A long time ago, that man had told him that it was his head trying to make sense of what he saw in the day, since he only ever learned to see it the way a human did, not the way his kind would. It made him wonder what things would have been like if he had--- At the time he had been sullen, wondering why his caretaker hadn't tried harder to teach him to be whatever he was supposed to be. Now he knew better. Humans could only stretch themselves so far--- and it was the same for him.

These dreams were something else though. There was substance to them, an order of events. That wasn't to say that they told a cohesive story, but they depicted scenes, to be certain.
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[3]

Postby crow » 10/19/2014 12:45 AM

He heard voices, and felt sensations and thoughts that weren't his own. It was just disjointed enough that he couldn't make any real sense of them, beyond the feeling of unease and fear when he awoke, but if Alain never had coherent dreams, at least he'd never had bad dreams either. The advent of these frightened him far more than their contents.

During the day, however, all of that was put away. He manned the counter faithfully, after his customary breakfast with Blake, who had already been baking a few hours by that point. Alain would ready his machine while Blake got the cinnamon rolls and the rest of their morning specials sorted out. When he was done with that, he did his quiet sitting thing, and sometimes he dreamt.
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[4]

Postby crow » 10/19/2014 12:46 AM

That was how the ritual was supposed to go, anyway. These days, Alain found himself taking longer to fuss about the machines. If he was still for too long, the stillness might go somewhere he didn't want it to.

Perhaps it was a lack of sleep that dulled his perceptions, for it took him longer than he liked to admit to realize that his unrest coincided with Blake's bringing home his latest client. But one morning, standing in front of the counter before opening, he thought back to the day of Blake's return, and the realization came to him with a start.
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[5]

Postby crow » 10/19/2014 12:46 AM

So, too, did the recollection that he had seen something moving in the fog that night. He had thought it was just an illusion, conjured by the forest or by his own exhaustion, but perhaps it hadn't been. Blake himself had been rather strange that night, asking Alain whether he had been able to see anything, as if he had expected... Alain had never been able to see his ghosts before, so there was no reason to suspect that he would be able to do so now. That is, not unless something was different about this particular ghost, and in a way that would be significant to Alain somehow. The barrister narrowed his eyes. Blake hadn't exactly been his normal self after his return either. He couldn't put his finger on how, but the whole thing felt off somehow.
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[6]

Postby crow » 10/19/2014 1:39 AM

He decided that he was going to confront Blake about it soon. Not now, of course; they were about to open, and Alain suspected that any explaining Blake wanted to do was going to take some time to do. For the moment, he calmed himself by reaching for one of his mugs and polishing it with a soft cloth. The motion soothed him as it had done many times before, and by the time the first customer walked in, he was enough improved to smile his usual smile. “Hello. What can I get for you today?” he asked, toying with the polished mug in his hands.

The feel of the coffee machines were familiar too. Even if he got distracted, his hands knew what they were doing. He had been running the cafe for a long time, and he had always been blessed with a talent for quick learning.
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[7]

Postby crow » 10/19/2014 1:39 AM

The first drink was completed, and something in him settled, clicking into place. The next customer was served, and then the next. Soon, he settled into the pace of the day, conveniently forgetting all his own troubles.

However, the reverie that work afforded him could only last for so long. Many cafes were open late these days, but Alain closed his at the same eight-o-clock time every day. It was mostly for reasons of practicality and privacy; he and Blake had their own lives, after all.
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[8][1]

Postby crow » 10/19/2014 1:40 AM

Sometimes the cafe didn't open at all, when one or the other couldn't be available. Sometimes it was open only nominally, with Alain shifting its location somewhere remote when he felt the need. Today, he felt a mix of relief and trepidation as he flipped the sign at the door from 'open' to 'closed'. Blake was wiping down the last of the tables. Leaning against the door, Alain watched him, and wondered how best to make his approach.

“Is something wrong, Alain?” said Blake, looking up. Alain could never tell how he did that. Blake had never shown any aptitude for reading the thoughts of others, but he seemed to have some unnerving sense for the barrister. He had attributed it to close proximity and a long history of friendship, but Alain had never been inclined to think his own thoughts so easy to guess.
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[9][2]

Postby crow » 10/19/2014 2:01 AM

He took a moment to think before he replied. “I have been wondering something,” he said slowly. “Your... client.”

“Yes?” Blake straightened, looking at Alain with an expression that the latter couldn't put a name to. Expectant would have been the closest fit. Alain narrowed his eyes again.

"What kind of ghost are they? What are they looking for?" he asked. He was interested in the answers to those questions, yes, but he was also interested in how Blake would react. The baker glanced about, and Alain did too, though with a great deal more trepidation; for Blake knew what he was looking for, and Alain did not.
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[10][3]

Postby crow » 10/19/2014 2:16 AM

Blake's vision locked on something in the air, and Alain directed his gaze to where he assumed Blake's to be. It was absurd to think that he could see something, when he hadn't managed to before. If this nagging suspicion all turned out to be nothing, he'd be left feeling very foolish indeed. But to his amazement, there did appear to be something there. He couldn't make out its shape clearly, but he knew full well the colors of the walls of the cafe. In that space, something distorted that color, giving it just the slightest tint, grey in places and a washed-out paleness in others.

Blake and the ghost must have been conferring. Alain was no longer watching his friend's expression, but such a significant pause in their conversation could scarce be warranted by anything else. He was going to be cross indeed if they were planning to conspire to withhold information from him.
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[11][4]

Postby crow » 10/19/2014 8:46 PM

When Blake spoke at last, he said, “She died a long time ago, it seems like. She's still getting her bearings, so I don't know for sure yet what she'll end up asking of me.” That was all fine enough, but none of it was the kind of thing that should have given him pause before answering. It didn't do anything to allay Alain's suspicions. In fact, it only made him more certain that something was being kept from him.

He considered letting it go, or using some more subtle methods to get the information out of Blake, but he knew that the baker wouldn't appreciate that. He decided for the moment to be direct.
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[12][5]

Postby crow » 10/19/2014 8:47 PM

It would be easier for everyone involved if Blake would just tell him, so Alain wanted to give him the chance first. “Is that all?” he asked carefully. Blake was looking at him again, with that same expression as before. “I have the feeling that you're not telling me everything.”

“When do I ever?” Blake said with a chuckle. Alain had to concede that that was true enough. They generally kept out of each other's business: Alain couldn't bake or see ghosts, so what was the point? But even that deflection held an air of unease to it.
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[13][6]

Postby crow » 10/19/2014 8:47 PM

Blake wasn't a good liar. For a human, he was almost painfully honest. Even talking around something wasn't easy for him, which was probably why he was so quiet by nature.

Today, Alain wasn't buying what he was selling. “I'm not a fool, Blake. I know something is up. Moreover, I suspect it has something to do with me--- or that you think it does. Don't think I haven't noticed that you've been watching me lately.” Blake looked down guiltily at that. Alain sighed. He didn't want to feel bad about this, but he found himself relenting a little. “I can see that you don't want to tell me, but if you could at least say why...”
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[14][7]

Postby crow » 10/19/2014 8:47 PM

“Oh,” said Blake in relief. “That, I can do, I think. Er...” There was another pause where he appeared to confer with his ghost, and this time Alain tried to make out its shape. Blake had said 'she', and while he could barely make out more than a silhouette, the shape did have a slender flowing quality to it.  “Well, I have some suspicions about some things, but investigating them is going to be difficult. I don't want to jump to conclusions. I'll tell you as soon as I know enough to be sure, I promise.”

That placated Alain a little, and he subsided, though he was still inclined to sulk. “You know how I dislike to be in the dark,” he said.

“Yes, whenever you think you might be involved,” Blake added. He was smiling again, this time with genuine warmth.
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[15][8]

Postby crow » 10/19/2014 8:48 PM

Alain had wanted to remain displeased, but he never could hold onto his bad moods for long around Blake. Sometimes it was infuriating, but it was why he liked the baker. Out of all the humans Alain had ever known, Blake was quite possibly his favorite, and Alain had known a great many humans.

“I'll trust you, but I want the full story later, whether it has to do with me or not,” Alain said. Blake nodded, and resumed wiping down the tables. Alain himself moved to the area behind the counter, and started the process of washing and putting away the last of the dishes.
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