Tim was already starting to mess up, and he was visibly more nervous than he was before they left. His movements were smaller, finicky. He had pretty much shrunk into himself a bit, made himself smaller. He wanted to apologize for what he said in the car, for trying to be funny, but he didn't want to mess that up, too. His plans were already beginning to crash down around him. He was playing with the fur on his jacket when Sophia asked him the question, effectively snapping him out of his trance.
"W-wha? Oh, um, yes, absolutely. Air is so good."
He looked at her with a face that said yes, I know what I said was really stupid, and I know you know it and he scratched at the back of his head. He was blushing a bit. HE didn't know what he was supposed to do now.
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Tim chuckled nervously, staring down at his feet. He didnt quite know what to say to her. He wasn't quite prepared for her to ask that question, really, and his mind flashed to the dream from the night prior. He scratched at the back of his head a little, trying to think of an appropriate answer for her. He made a hand motion that didn't really make much sense, muttering a bit before he was able to dorm a cohesive sentence or two for her.
"Ah, well...a bad dream, I guess? I dunno, I guess I was just sick of being alone or something. Plus I didnt wanna code anything today because I'm literally losing sleep over it, so I needed a break. That, among of course many any deep seated psychological issues that I've had since I was a child, y'know, the whole shebang. Murdered a dog, a cat, stabbed my own mother."
Tim looked at Sophia, who looked a bit scared by this point.
"Um... I was joking, about the issues part. I thought it would be funny. I dont normally do jokes."
"Ah, well...a bad dream, I guess? I dunno, I guess I was just sick of being alone or something. Plus I didnt wanna code anything today because I'm literally losing sleep over it, so I needed a break. That, among of course many any deep seated psychological issues that I've had since I was a child, y'know, the whole shebang. Murdered a dog, a cat, stabbed my own mother."
Tim looked at Sophia, who looked a bit scared by this point.
"Um... I was joking, about the issues part. I thought it would be funny. I dont normally do jokes."
Tim walked out of the door onto the street, the cold air hitting him again, causing him to shiver ever so slightly. He zipped up his coat, looking around a bit before he began to walk down the sidewalk. Music was blasting into his ears, filling his head with the haunting melodies he loved to hear. He had already spotted Sophia, and he exhaled harshly when he saw her. But he kept his pace. He didn't stop walking. He needed t do this. It was very important. If he didn't do this, he wouldn't be able to forgive himself. He steeled himself, and, in the next few steps, he was upon her. He pulled the earphones out of his ears, and nodded at her.
"Hi, well, I'm here, you got me out of the house. Congrats, people...don't actually usually get me to...do that."
Tim smiled an awkward, sort of half smile as he pulled another loose thread out of the fur on the hood of his parka. He dropped it to the ground, slipping his hands into his pockets as he did. "Sooo...what do we do now, exactly? Im not very good at this, sorry."
"Hi, well, I'm here, you got me out of the house. Congrats, people...don't actually usually get me to...do that."
Tim smiled an awkward, sort of half smile as he pulled another loose thread out of the fur on the hood of his parka. He dropped it to the ground, slipping his hands into his pockets as he did. "Sooo...what do we do now, exactly? Im not very good at this, sorry."
Timothy, what do you think you're doing?
Tim opened his eyes, but there was still darkness all around him. His breath was heavy, he felt lightheaded, he was starting to sweat. He felt something dripping down his arms, warm and sticky and strange. He tried to look, but he couldn't make his head turn to do it. He tried lifting his arm up so he could see it, but they felt like they were attached to his sides. Tim struggled for a few minutes, trying desperately to see what was going on. But he couldn't do it. He couldn't move his arms at all.
Honestly, dear, how could you be so insensitive?
He turned, trying to locate the source of the voice that was talking to him. It was definitely feminine, older. But there was nobody around to speak to him. Nothing but darkness. Darkness and the warmth that was trickling down his arms and dripping from his fingertips. He desperately wanted to look at the source, to do anything, to find someone. He was getting frantic. His breathes were heavier. If he could see anything, it would be in double vision. He felt like he was about to pass out. He was going down. Soon he would--
Dont you care about your mother?
And there, standing in front of him, was his mother. Looking angry. She wore a purple cardigan over a simple flowered blouse, along with a pair of black mom jeans and shoes to match. Her brown hair, which was beginning to grey, was pulled back into a loose ponytail, little strands frizzing out here and there. She was slightly out of shape, and she stood with her arms crossed, posture straight. She looked angry. Tim wondered why. He wondered if he could speak. He tried.
"M-mom, I--"
Dont! She said, effectively cutting him off. She shook her head. You cant talk your way out of this one. I am so...furious! I'm furious that you would do such a thing!
Tim was dumbfounded. He had no idea what she was talking about. But she looked so angry. So disappointed. He could make things right, he was sure of it. HE just had to apologize for what he did. Whatever it was he did, she could forgive him for it. She was his only parent. She could forgive him.
"Mother, please, I'm so sorry for--for whatever I did, I didnt--"
Just imagine if I walked into the bathroom and found you like this. How would you expect me to react? How? How is any mother supposed to react when she finds her sons body?
Tim stopped breathing for a moment. He couldnt say anything. He didnt know what to say. The warmth was still dripping down his arms. It was driving him crazy. HE had to look. He tried looking again, and he found that his head would cooperate with him this time, and he looked at his arms.
Blood.
He nearly shrieked in terror. There was a steady stream of thick, red blood, flowing out from the area where your arms begin to bend, right near the center. There were deep lacerations on each one, letting his blood run freely. He tried holding one down, covering the wound, but it was useless, blood was covering his hands now, flowing through his fingers. He began to cry. Sob. Break down.
"What the fuck?! Mom, what--"
She was gone. He was alone. Alone with his burden and his darkness. "Mother, wait, come back, dont leave" He shouted through his sobs, needing someone to be there. Someone. Anyone. Anyone. But nobody would come. And he was alone.
He was so alone.
Tim woke with a jolt, breathing heavily, in a cold sweat. He was back on his fluffy couch. Back in reality. He frantically looked around. He was in his apartment. He was back above the bakery. He grabbed at his arms. There were no cuts. There was no blood. He was just fine. He waited for his breath to return to normal, which took a while. He waited still for his heart to stop beating faster than a heart normally should. That took even longer. But, after a few minutes, that went back to normal as well. His throat felt like a desert, though.
He sighed shakily, falling back into the couch, staring up at the ceiling fan. This was the fifth time in two weeks he'd had that nightmare.He didn't like it at all. He let his hand go through his hair, combing it backwards. He slowly regained his sense of reality. He blinked a few times before he stood up from the couch, moving to the kitchen now. He grabbed a clean glass from the sink, filling it with water from the spout. He drank it all without stopping, and when he finished it all, he put the glass back down in the sink. He leaned back against the counter, completely awake now. Trying to forget about what he had just experienced, he started thinking of the day before him. He planned to fill it with coding and work and coffee a--
Sophia. She wanted to hang out with him today. She asked him. She asked him. But he was nervous. There was something about Sophia that equal parts calmed and startled him. He thought of not going. He never really gave her a yes, so he could easily just not go and just tell her that he needed to do a lot of work or that he got sick or something. That could work.
As Tim tried to develop an elaborate scheme to get out of any kind of social interaction, his eyes wandered, eventually falling on the white board. His thoughts stopped, centralizing on what he had written there weeks ago. He sighed again, shaking his head as he read and re-read his note.
Talk to someone. Make a friend. Stop being such a loser and go make a goddamn friend you piece of shit.
"Fuck..." he whispered under his breath. "...I need to listen to myself. I need to. I need to. I need to stop being...so alone."
Tim went through his normal morning routine of jelly toast, a shower and a shave, followed by brushing his teeth. He got dressed and made himself presentable. He tried not to think about the nightmare. He instead thought about Sophia and about becoming friends with her. HE looked at himself in the mirror, telling himself that he would be normal. That he would be cool. No embarrassment today.
"Make a friend. Make a friend. Make a fucking friend. You can do this." he said as he pulled his coat on over his shoulders, pulling something out of the faux fur on the hood as he did. He looked himself over in the mirror one last time, nodded, and swiftly turned around, heading for the door. He messed up before, but he wasnt going to mess up again. Not this time. He was nervous, but he pushed the feeling deep into his gut. He wasnt going to have it today.
He was going to socialize if it killed him.
Tim opened his eyes, but there was still darkness all around him. His breath was heavy, he felt lightheaded, he was starting to sweat. He felt something dripping down his arms, warm and sticky and strange. He tried to look, but he couldn't make his head turn to do it. He tried lifting his arm up so he could see it, but they felt like they were attached to his sides. Tim struggled for a few minutes, trying desperately to see what was going on. But he couldn't do it. He couldn't move his arms at all.
Honestly, dear, how could you be so insensitive?
He turned, trying to locate the source of the voice that was talking to him. It was definitely feminine, older. But there was nobody around to speak to him. Nothing but darkness. Darkness and the warmth that was trickling down his arms and dripping from his fingertips. He desperately wanted to look at the source, to do anything, to find someone. He was getting frantic. His breathes were heavier. If he could see anything, it would be in double vision. He felt like he was about to pass out. He was going down. Soon he would--
Dont you care about your mother?
And there, standing in front of him, was his mother. Looking angry. She wore a purple cardigan over a simple flowered blouse, along with a pair of black mom jeans and shoes to match. Her brown hair, which was beginning to grey, was pulled back into a loose ponytail, little strands frizzing out here and there. She was slightly out of shape, and she stood with her arms crossed, posture straight. She looked angry. Tim wondered why. He wondered if he could speak. He tried.
"M-mom, I--"
Dont! She said, effectively cutting him off. She shook her head. You cant talk your way out of this one. I am so...furious! I'm furious that you would do such a thing!
Tim was dumbfounded. He had no idea what she was talking about. But she looked so angry. So disappointed. He could make things right, he was sure of it. HE just had to apologize for what he did. Whatever it was he did, she could forgive him for it. She was his only parent. She could forgive him.
"Mother, please, I'm so sorry for--for whatever I did, I didnt--"
Just imagine if I walked into the bathroom and found you like this. How would you expect me to react? How? How is any mother supposed to react when she finds her sons body?
Tim stopped breathing for a moment. He couldnt say anything. He didnt know what to say. The warmth was still dripping down his arms. It was driving him crazy. HE had to look. He tried looking again, and he found that his head would cooperate with him this time, and he looked at his arms.
Blood.
He nearly shrieked in terror. There was a steady stream of thick, red blood, flowing out from the area where your arms begin to bend, right near the center. There were deep lacerations on each one, letting his blood run freely. He tried holding one down, covering the wound, but it was useless, blood was covering his hands now, flowing through his fingers. He began to cry. Sob. Break down.
"What the fuck?! Mom, what--"
She was gone. He was alone. Alone with his burden and his darkness. "Mother, wait, come back, dont leave" He shouted through his sobs, needing someone to be there. Someone. Anyone. Anyone. But nobody would come. And he was alone.
He was so alone.
Tim woke with a jolt, breathing heavily, in a cold sweat. He was back on his fluffy couch. Back in reality. He frantically looked around. He was in his apartment. He was back above the bakery. He grabbed at his arms. There were no cuts. There was no blood. He was just fine. He waited for his breath to return to normal, which took a while. He waited still for his heart to stop beating faster than a heart normally should. That took even longer. But, after a few minutes, that went back to normal as well. His throat felt like a desert, though.
He sighed shakily, falling back into the couch, staring up at the ceiling fan. This was the fifth time in two weeks he'd had that nightmare.He didn't like it at all. He let his hand go through his hair, combing it backwards. He slowly regained his sense of reality. He blinked a few times before he stood up from the couch, moving to the kitchen now. He grabbed a clean glass from the sink, filling it with water from the spout. He drank it all without stopping, and when he finished it all, he put the glass back down in the sink. He leaned back against the counter, completely awake now. Trying to forget about what he had just experienced, he started thinking of the day before him. He planned to fill it with coding and work and coffee a--
Sophia. She wanted to hang out with him today. She asked him. She asked him. But he was nervous. There was something about Sophia that equal parts calmed and startled him. He thought of not going. He never really gave her a yes, so he could easily just not go and just tell her that he needed to do a lot of work or that he got sick or something. That could work.
As Tim tried to develop an elaborate scheme to get out of any kind of social interaction, his eyes wandered, eventually falling on the white board. His thoughts stopped, centralizing on what he had written there weeks ago. He sighed again, shaking his head as he read and re-read his note.
Talk to someone. Make a friend. Stop being such a loser and go make a goddamn friend you piece of shit.
"Fuck..." he whispered under his breath. "...I need to listen to myself. I need to. I need to. I need to stop being...so alone."
Tim went through his normal morning routine of jelly toast, a shower and a shave, followed by brushing his teeth. He got dressed and made himself presentable. He tried not to think about the nightmare. He instead thought about Sophia and about becoming friends with her. HE looked at himself in the mirror, telling himself that he would be normal. That he would be cool. No embarrassment today.
"Make a friend. Make a friend. Make a fucking friend. You can do this." he said as he pulled his coat on over his shoulders, pulling something out of the faux fur on the hood as he did. He looked himself over in the mirror one last time, nodded, and swiftly turned around, heading for the door. He messed up before, but he wasnt going to mess up again. Not this time. He was nervous, but he pushed the feeling deep into his gut. He wasnt going to have it today.
He was going to socialize if it killed him.
Im really proud of Tim, he's fantastic.
Tim stared at her for a moment as she stood up, trying to form the correct words in his head before he said them. This was the most he had ever interacted with someone in months. He could barely hold it together during their conversation, and now Sophia wanted to hang out with him outside? He was a little bit dumbfounded. But shee seemed like a genuinely nice person to him. Like she was actually interested in talking with him. That made him nervous. So he spoke quickly, in run on sentences, putting his things away as he did, not stopping for breath, not stopping to pause, and barely giving her time to answer or process what it was he was saying.
"Um, okay, I dont know. I dont usually go outside and it isnt really, like, my thing to go to the park and go on nature walks and do stuff like that so im kind of iffy on the subject right now and also parks are dangerous and stuff and theres this guy Alex Burnham trying to beat me at this coding job i have right now because he's an immature little dick bag but I also really enjoyed having a conversation with you and i would love to have more with you and the park is where you want to have it so maybe i am giving you an absolute maybe. I like your hair. Have a nice day Sophia bye."
And with that, he gave her a nod, did an about face, and darted towards the door in the most casual power walk he could muster. He burst through the door, letting the cool air of late November hit his body. He stood in it for a moment, trying to process everything he had just said to Sophia in the Cafe. He put his hands in his hair, pulling it a bit, angry about how he had made a fool of himself so many times today.
"I like your hair? " he said, shaking his head. "I like your fucking hair? Jesus Christ, you sound like a madman!"
And with that, he began walking again, faster than his power walk to the door. And when he got to the door next to the bakery, he burst through it, taking the steps two at a time. He shoved his key into the door at the top of the stairs, unlocked it, and then re-locked it behind him. He stood there, leaning back against the door, feeling sorry for himself. He didn't know what to do. He was scared to talk to this girl again, She was so nice to him, but he was so awkward to her.His mind raced to extreme possibilities, different ways to avoid contact. He thought of maybe just going to a different coffee shop instead, effectively cutting her out of his life. OR moving away, or anything. But eventually, he pushed those thoughts out of his head. They were crazy and impossible.
And he was so scared of being alone for too much longer, anyway.
He sighed, moving from the door to the small couch in front of him, letting his bag drop as he walked, then his coat, kicking off a shoe with each step until he got to the couch and effectively collapsed face first onto the soft cushions of the couch. He passed out right then and there, his lack of sleep from the night before finally catching up with him.
"Um, okay, I dont know. I dont usually go outside and it isnt really, like, my thing to go to the park and go on nature walks and do stuff like that so im kind of iffy on the subject right now and also parks are dangerous and stuff and theres this guy Alex Burnham trying to beat me at this coding job i have right now because he's an immature little dick bag but I also really enjoyed having a conversation with you and i would love to have more with you and the park is where you want to have it so maybe i am giving you an absolute maybe. I like your hair. Have a nice day Sophia bye."
And with that, he gave her a nod, did an about face, and darted towards the door in the most casual power walk he could muster. He burst through the door, letting the cool air of late November hit his body. He stood in it for a moment, trying to process everything he had just said to Sophia in the Cafe. He put his hands in his hair, pulling it a bit, angry about how he had made a fool of himself so many times today.
"I like your hair? " he said, shaking his head. "I like your fucking hair? Jesus Christ, you sound like a madman!"
And with that, he began walking again, faster than his power walk to the door. And when he got to the door next to the bakery, he burst through it, taking the steps two at a time. He shoved his key into the door at the top of the stairs, unlocked it, and then re-locked it behind him. He stood there, leaning back against the door, feeling sorry for himself. He didn't know what to do. He was scared to talk to this girl again, She was so nice to him, but he was so awkward to her.His mind raced to extreme possibilities, different ways to avoid contact. He thought of maybe just going to a different coffee shop instead, effectively cutting her out of his life. OR moving away, or anything. But eventually, he pushed those thoughts out of his head. They were crazy and impossible.
And he was so scared of being alone for too much longer, anyway.
He sighed, moving from the door to the small couch in front of him, letting his bag drop as he walked, then his coat, kicking off a shoe with each step until he got to the couch and effectively collapsed face first onto the soft cushions of the couch. He passed out right then and there, his lack of sleep from the night before finally catching up with him.
"Oh, yeah! Y'see, um, I do code? Like, I make websites for big companies? I make sure they're functional and working so that when people go on the internet to look up, like, how cool Frosted Flakes are or whatever, they can see it right from the frosted flakes website." He paused for a moment, taking in just how boring that sounded.. "It's not as shitty as it sounds, I promise. I've honestly done a lot of cool stuff in my career, it isnt that bad and I'm so sorry I've gone off on such a tangent wow."
Tim stopped himself before he talked too much and sounded like an idiot. He felt bad for not talking though, so he tried to keep it going.
"I-im really sorry I sound like a fucking moron? Im just really not good at this talking stuff."
He was tugging at one of his sleeves awkwardly, his eyes dropping to the table.
Jesus christ, shut the fuck up.
Tim stopped himself before he talked too much and sounded like an idiot. He felt bad for not talking though, so he tried to keep it going.
"I-im really sorry I sound like a fucking moron? Im just really not good at this talking stuff."
He was tugging at one of his sleeves awkwardly, his eyes dropping to the table.
Jesus christ, shut the fuck up.
Tim sat, biting at his lower lip while she blatantly laughed at him, he could feel other people looking at him, their eyes burning into the back of his skull. He felt like an idiot for having such a visible reaction to her presence, and he wished that at that very moment that he could just sink into the ground, become a part of the chair, disappear, anything. But instead, he sat in place, cheeks burning, until she stopped laughing and started talking, seemingly forgetting the event that had just transpired.
He had seen her on campus a couple of times before, when he was still taking classes at Nottingham University, named for the city they lived in. He graduated at the end of Summer, and she was (apparantly) still taking classes there. He hadn't paid her any mind, really. He didnt pay anyone any mind when he was walking. But he remembered her.
She wanted to have a conversation with him. She seemed nice when he talked to her at the counter, even though she laughed at him earlier. Plus, he felt like he needed to prove that he was, in fact, a mostly stable human being capable of cognizant speech. So he decided it would be a good idea to try and socialize.
"Oh, um, yes, I can try talking. It's been a bit since I've acually talked to someone that wasnt myself, really." He tried joking, an unmarked territory for him usually.
He had seen her on campus a couple of times before, when he was still taking classes at Nottingham University, named for the city they lived in. He graduated at the end of Summer, and she was (apparantly) still taking classes there. He hadn't paid her any mind, really. He didnt pay anyone any mind when he was walking. But he remembered her.
She wanted to have a conversation with him. She seemed nice when he talked to her at the counter, even though she laughed at him earlier. Plus, he felt like he needed to prove that he was, in fact, a mostly stable human being capable of cognizant speech. So he decided it would be a good idea to try and socialize.
"Oh, um, yes, I can try talking. It's been a bit since I've acually talked to someone that wasnt myself, really." He tried joking, an unmarked territory for him usually.
Oh, yeah, you close in fifteen minutes! It's seven fourty five, right? What? A.M.? Fucking idiot.
Tim had stayed up all night again, without realizing it at all again. He had been working on a code for hours on end, and ended up not seeing the hours go from 6:00 a.m to 6:00 p.m. Again. This week. He had a problem with getting too absorbed in his work. That, and making a fool of himself in front of baristas. So, inevitably, he decided the best course of action for the day would be to fester in his embarrassment in a small, two seated table at the corner of the cafe. He focused in on his work again, completely in his element. He was trying his hardest to meet the deadline for this new website he was coding for a cereal company. His fingers moved swiftly, his focus was completely centralized. The only things that made him break were an occasionally muttered 'yes please' and 'thanks much.'
He made it to a comfortable stopping point, and sighed heavily. His eyes went from his computer to the phone he had sitting next to him, and he noticed that nearly three hours had gone by already. He shook his head in disbelief, and then shrugged it off. This wouldn't be the first time. He moved again, stretching backwards and arching his back over the chair, eyes closed. He leaned back down, rubbed his eyes, and looked up.
A woman had materialized in the chair before him.
He jumped, screamed out in surprise, and grabbed at his chest, feeling his heart beat at a million miles an hour.
"Jesus--fuck!" He exclaimed as he nearly tipped back in his chair, the epitome of human grace. He was breathing heavily, but he was leaned forewards, his head in his hands now, ashamed and embarrassed, for the second time today. He spoke quietly. "Oh, shit, Im sorry. You scared me. Ah--sorry, swearing, not good in public, right, sorry."
Tim had stayed up all night again, without realizing it at all again. He had been working on a code for hours on end, and ended up not seeing the hours go from 6:00 a.m to 6:00 p.m. Again. This week. He had a problem with getting too absorbed in his work. That, and making a fool of himself in front of baristas. So, inevitably, he decided the best course of action for the day would be to fester in his embarrassment in a small, two seated table at the corner of the cafe. He focused in on his work again, completely in his element. He was trying his hardest to meet the deadline for this new website he was coding for a cereal company. His fingers moved swiftly, his focus was completely centralized. The only things that made him break were an occasionally muttered 'yes please' and 'thanks much.'
He made it to a comfortable stopping point, and sighed heavily. His eyes went from his computer to the phone he had sitting next to him, and he noticed that nearly three hours had gone by already. He shook his head in disbelief, and then shrugged it off. This wouldn't be the first time. He moved again, stretching backwards and arching his back over the chair, eyes closed. He leaned back down, rubbed his eyes, and looked up.
A woman had materialized in the chair before him.
He jumped, screamed out in surprise, and grabbed at his chest, feeling his heart beat at a million miles an hour.
"Jesus--fuck!" He exclaimed as he nearly tipped back in his chair, the epitome of human grace. He was breathing heavily, but he was leaned forewards, his head in his hands now, ashamed and embarrassed, for the second time today. He spoke quietly. "Oh, shit, Im sorry. You scared me. Ah--sorry, swearing, not good in public, right, sorry."
I understand that, the supernatural isn't for everyone, and Im kind of on the fence about it as well. Fantasy, for me, is sort of anything that isnt from this world? More along the lines of strange creatures than "mythical beasts" of some sort. IF youre not okay with that and you would rather not do this RP, thats totally fine with me!
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