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Tweak says, "go team firecrotch!"

Fisher Majors (hearitbleed) wrote in halcyon_halls,
@ 2008-10-27 21:12:00

Entry tags:

fisher, james

Week 20- Thursday
Who: James and Fisher
What: Creepy shit
Where: Random Hallway
When: Mid-Afternoon

This woman he was following was someone's mom. He knew she was, because she had said so. She looked frail, and tired, like she had given up fighting and just let herself cross over. Unfortunately, she apparently wasn't done talking yet. She'd scared the crap out of Fisher that morning by standing at ther foot of his bed, paitently waiting for him to get up. He did not appreciate this, as he was sleeping in only a pair of boxer shorts. Still, she wasn't as pushy as a lot of spirits were. She mostly looked helpless, like she needed Fisher more than anything. So begrudgingly, he'd decided to follow her and see where she led him.

And so far he'd been following her all damn day. She only ever said one word as they walked- James- and then she'd start down another hallway. Sometimes the dead got lost, especially in unfamiliar ground. So he patiently followed, trying to remember if he even knew of a James at Halcyon. If James looked like his mother, then the face wasn't ringing any bells.

It was starting to look hopeless, until the woman halted along the corridor leadoing to the House of Fire. Her finger stretched out, pointing to a clean young man who seemed distracted. He was well shaped and cut like a boy should be, and Fisher felt a lump in his throat. This guy was way out of his league, one of the snobby assholes that probably wouldn't think to speak to someone like Fisher, what with his dark clothing and "guy-liner" (thank you, Jax). Still, this lady looked so sad he couldn't help but at least try.

"James," he said weakly, then cleared his throat. "James," he said again, with authority. "Your mother wants to talk to you."

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jamesownsit
2008-10-29 08:34 pm UTC (link)

Distracted was quite possibly the best word that one could use to describe James as of late. He was distant, at best, certainly even more so after his date with Natalia, and spent most of his time avoiding everyone and everything aside from his classes. That was perhaps why he was such a difficult man to find. He didn't put himself out there at all as of late. And even now, all he wanted to do was go back to his room and sit and stare out the window, alone, and brood. Healthy? Hardly, but it was all he could bring himself to do at the moment.

The voice calling his name, however, distracted him from this plan, and he stopped, looking about for a familiar face and finding one that was instead not familiar in the least. "Yes?" He arched a brow slightly, though the brow quirked even more with his next words.

James' jaw stiffened and his body tensed. Clearly this was not the best way to approach him. "Very funny, asshole." And then he started thinking about it. "So who put you up to this? Was it Noah? Is this his idea of a joke?" Not a believer in the least. Pure skeptic. He wasn't going to be an easy one to convince of anything.

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hearitbleed
2008-11-01 05:28 pm UTC (link)

This wasn't a surprising reaction. The main objective, when dealing with a skeptic, was not to get hit. Again. "This isn't a joke," Fisher assured him. "And believe me, I'm not trying to be an asshole. I just... there's this woman following me around, see, and she led me here so she could talk to you. She said she was James' mother, and since she led me here, and you answered when I called, I can only assume you're James."

The guy did not seem to be buying it, and in fact looked (if possible) more irked. "I'm a medium," Fisher explained for what felt like the millionth time. "I can see and talk to dead people. Usually they come find me and ask me to deliver messages to their loved ones. I woke up this morning and this woman who claims to be your mom was standing there, and she won't leave me alone until she's said her piece."

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jamesownsit
2008-11-02 11:21 am UTC (link)

When Fisher started to tell him the whole story, James gave him a look that clearly was intended to feign concern. He wasn't ready to punch him just yet, but clearly he didn't believe him still either. And he was taking all of this in with a grain of salt. What else could he do? The last thing he needed was to get into a fight with some guy and get his ass in trouble.

"Right." James said when Fisher finally concluded his story. "Sooo... Why don't you tell my mom that I, A, don't believe in this sort of bullshit, and B, don't care to listen to anything she has to say." He arched a brow slightly, pausing for just a moment to see if that managed to get through to the kid or if he was going to continue rambling before he turned on his heel and started to walk away.

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hearitbleed
2008-11-04 07:32 pm UTC (link)

It was obvious, though, that James didn't care about what Fisher was telling him. In fact he looked ready to leave. His mother, unseen to him, had burst into tears... until she heard her baby boy curse at her.

Fisher listened to James, then turned to face his mother. "He doesn't believe in this sort of bullshit," he informed her, as though she hadn't heard. He nodded, commiserating with her plight. "She's kinda pissed," he told James.

Suddenly, Fisher burst out laughing. "Okay, calm down," he told the seemingly empty air beside him. "I'll tell him." Turning to James, Fisher tried to supress a grin. "She said, 'Don't you dare act like that to me, Jam-Jam! I will tell your father."

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jamesownsit
2008-11-09 10:03 pm UTC (link)

"I'm sure she is." James said, and then rolled his eyes. This guy was a nut job, obviously, either that or he had a death wish. He wasn't quite sure which was which. But if the kid knew what was good for him, he would drop it. James was in no mood for games. He was rarely in mood for games.

A brow arched as the guy burst out laughing. He gave an agitated sigh as he folded his arms across his chest. The words that came out of his mouth, however, after he finished talking to himself of course, made James blanch. He turned white from head to toe and stopped breathing for a moment.

After he finally composed himself enough to speak, he took a breath and then said in a very low, very threatening tone, "Who have you been talking to?" The only person that knew that nickname... Well, no, not even Nat knew that name and certainly Cissy had never heard it either, had she?

"You think you're fucking funny, don't you? But you're not. You know that, right?"

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hearitbleed
2008-11-10 01:11 am UTC (link)

"I know I'm not funny," Fisher told James seriously. "And you don't have to believe me, although judging from the look on your face, you sort of want to. If only to get an explaination." James looked like a caged tiger right about now, so it would be best to tread carefully. "And I don't know any of those people you just mentioned." Fisher dropped his hands at his sides. "I don't know anyone," he confessed. "You're actually the first person I've talked to so far.

"But your mother... well I'm not sure where she came from, but it seems she's gone through a lot just to get here and talk to you, so I think the least you can do is listen to what she has to say." Fisher licked his lips, anticipating the next move. The biggest problem most people had was the idea that some stranger was going to be present for what was usually the most openly emotional time in their lives. Fisher didn't blame them; it was no walk in the park for him, either.

"Look," he told James honestly, "I keep secrets. As a translator for dead people, I kind of have to. So don't ignore her just because you don't want anyone knowing anythign about you, because I won't say anything. And frankly, I could care less about whatever you two talk about." He glanced back over his shoulder, apparently listening. "Her name is Sloane," he said carefully, "and she just wants you to know that she's sorry... for that time before your father died." He listened again, then nodded. "And she really loves you, James. Even though she thinks she never showed it right."

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jamesownsit
2008-11-11 07:57 am UTC (link)

The guy kept looking over his shoulder and James couldn't help but to look too even though he didn't and wouldn't see anything. He looked back at Fisher and shook his head. "It has nothing to do with me not wanting anyone to know anything about me. I just don't care to speak with her, that's all. Regardless of what she went through to get here." A brow arched as if to prove that point, though he couldn't believe that he was buying into this shit.

He knew her name though. That might have been easy for someone to find out if they really wanted to. And he knew about James' father. That wasn't something that was very widely known. Natalia knew. No one else did. And even she didn't know details. But really, there were no details being given. He could have gotten the information from anywhere. Natalia could have talked to someone. She probably had. And that just made him all the more pissed off at her.

"Do me a favor?" He asked, though his tone said that it wasn't a question he could answer no to. "Tell her that I don't give a shit how sorry she is. That her sorrow doesn't change anything. Tell her that I don't love her, I don't even like her, and I'm glad that she's fucking dead because she's been dead to me for years." He paused for a moment, as if that was enough, that was all, but then he added one more thing. "Tell her to go rot in hell next to my father since we all know that's what she's been waiting on ever since his sorry ass died."

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hearitbleed
2008-11-11 06:20 pm UTC (link)

First, Fisher listened to James. (And tried to push the thoughts that James was indescribably hot out of his mind.) Then he turned to Sloane for her rebuttal. And then he ducked. He knew that she couldn't really hurt him, but she could sort of touch him and her arms were swinging furiously. "Calm down!" he pleaded, though she wasn't going to. What mother could, after hearing something like that?

Fisher backed away from Sloane, walking toward James. "Don't you dare go all poltergeist on me!" he yelled at her, once she's stopped slinging herself about in grief. "I didn't even want to be here, but you've been following me around all damn day asking me to talk to your baby boy, that he'd understand, he'd forgive you." The ghost woman before him looked so sad, so empty. He was about to turn to James and spologize for wasting his time, but Sloane started talking again. He listened, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "No," he told her. "No. He doesn't want to hear it, you're a wreck, why drag this out?"

He listened again, then threw his hands up in defeat. "Ugh, fine!" he huffed. Turning back to James, Fisher wore an expression that clearly said 'I have no idea what is wrong with her'. "She says she'll go," he told the annoyed guy beside him. "But before she does, she wants you to know that your father has been watching you since he died, and she's seen him in the afterlife. And she says that she knows what really happened the night of the fire."

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jamesownsit
2008-11-12 07:59 pm UTC (link)

This kid was acting like some kind of mad man. It was actually slightly amusing, or would have been if everything out of his mouth didn't serve to further piss James off. He might have even laughed at him had he the will or strength in him to even laugh. But he didn't. He didn't have much left in him for anything right about now. Or that was what he had thought, rather, until things turned ugly.

That last comment was the straw that broke the camel's back. And before James could think better and contain himself, he had the smaller boy by the collar of his shirt and had shoved him back against the wall, his own form pressing in against him in a way that was nothing short of threatening. "Shut your fucking mouth and listen to me, very closely." He said, his voice low and gruff. "I don't know where you came from. I don't know who you've been talking to. But whoever it is, you can tell them that if they continue to try to fuck with me or they shit about whatever it is they think they know to anyone, that I will not hesitate to pull their spine out of their ass."

James let the kid go, his hands reaching up to adjust the boy's collar and then further still to give him a light slap on the cheek. "Nice meeting you.. Fisher, was it?" He offered him a smile though clearly it was strained and as fake as could be. "Enjoy the rest of your day." He took a step back from him and then turned to head into the House of Fire barring any further complications.

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hearitbleed
2008-11-13 08:00 am UTC (link)

Fisher was calm, collected, cool. "If you do want to talk to her, I'm in the Zephir House," he called after James. But once James was safely out of sight, he let loose all holy hell on his ghostly companion. "What the hell?!?!," he yelled at Sloane. "You should have told me your son was crazy. I do not appreciate walking into the lion's den like that!" Fisher wiped his sweaty palms on his pants. "Let me clear up a common misconception. Emo goth boys are afraid of death! Jesus, he doesn't look all that strong, but Goddamn, I thought he was gonna toss me three feet in the air!"

Fisher's hands were still shaking, but at least his heartrate was coming down. "Oh, hell no," he said in response to the spirit's inquiry. "There is no way I am approaching him again! I only offered to be polite. If he comes to my door I'm gonna bolt it shut and jump out the window."

Ignoring Sloane's tears and pleas, Fisher decided enough was enough. So he left the House of Fire hallway and proceeded to do what he did every time he had a bad encounter with a ghosts' living relative- he went to the local dive and had himself a stiff drink.

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