Rafael Atala (freyr) wrote in paxletalelogs, @ 2017-04-23 10:48:00 |
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Entry tags: | freyr, uke mochi |
lies to light the way
Who: Alice & Rafe
What: Rafael is high as fuck. He finds a friend.
Where: the sixth floor
When: Shortly after this thread on Monday, April 17th.
Rafael stood in front of the ema, blown pupils sending his gaze darting from one little plate to another. He had skimmed most of them several times over, having recognized his own and at least a few others. But his eyes always returned to one, damning in its brevity, terrifying in its countless potential meanings.
is worried that his reappearance in Rafe's life will just fuck it up again
It had to be Gabe, could only be Gabe, and it terrified Rafael to think his friend might genuinely believe it to be true. He could not guess what it would mean for them. Another thought came close on the heels of that one: There was no them, would never be again, and this plate, whether secret or wish or something far worse, was tangible proof of that. Emotion flooded through him, a wave he rode as best he could, though he felt all the while as though he was drowning beneath it. He swallowed hard, but the lump in his throat did not dislodge. He tugged at his long sleeves, pulling them farther down around his damaged wrists.
He heard a sound, and turned to greet it. He could not hide his too-wide eyes, but he could feign a brilliant smile, and he did so without a moment's hesitation. When he saw who it was, the expression became markedly more sincere.
"Oh. Hi, Alice."
Alice brightened from her friend’s smile as she approached him a step at a time. She still wore her hair loose as it had been when she was with Isobel earlier in the day and it still had the scattering of wheat throughout it, although there was less now than when she was beside Isobel. But now, returning to the sixth floor, Alice was relaxed and the wheat that remained in her hair was no longer a cause for panic.
“Hey, Rafael!” She slowed her steps, coming up close to Rafael that indicated knowledge and trust between the two, but quickly her smile faded slightly and her head tilted to the side as she noticed the dilation of his eyes and the tightness in his brow, as if he was holding back something. “You alright? I know, the floors and the secrets are crazy...”
He readily agreed, nodding with unnecessary vigor. He cast about for something to distract from his own state, and from the messages that were somehow tied to him. "There's one about you," he said, pointing to one particular plate, his sleeve hitching up as he did. "Did you see? Do you know who it's from?" Then he blinked doeishly, surprised by what he saw now framing her face. "Your hair," he said, interrupting before she could speak. He moved closer to her, reaching up, but stopping just shy of touching the wheat threaded through her hair. "That's amazing. It's like your dream."
Alice nearly leaned away, surprised by Rafael’s sudden movements, but caught herself and stilled. “It is, it’s been happening all day…you can touch it if you’d like, it doesn’t hurt.” She turned her head a little and shook her hair forward with a hand, bringing most of the mixture of red hair and wheat over her shoulder. He stroked it gently as she spoke, taking care not to tug the perfectly natural, perfectly interspersed strands. “And I know about the secret about me, I have two ideas of who it may be from, but I’m not sure. I saw the one about you as well…” She watched Rafael carefully, her eyes slightly squinted as she studied the odd behavior of her friend.
A shadow passed over his face, gone in an instant. His hand fell back to his side. "Mmhm. It's strange, right? Who would have known these things? Or made them up, if they aren't real?" He plucked at the bottom of one plate; it lifted slightly from its place, but would not go any farther, impossible to remove. "Have you asked either of them? The ones you think are responsible?"
“I haven’t asked them, I’m not really sure how I would,” Alice replied with a small shake of her head, the wheat swinging back and forth to echo the motion. She looked at the dish Rafael had picked at and caught the sight of the angry, raw marks on Rafael’s wrist. “Hey… what happened to your wrist?” She reached forward and grabbed his hand, not his wrist, and gently tugged his arm down.
Rafael looked down to her hand, and to his wrist just above. A wry twist of a smile appeared on his lips. "It's nothing," he said. "Can I ask who you think it was? I could help if you wanted. I could ask around." He squeezed her hand. With his other, he reached for his sleeve, pulling it back down to cover his wound. "If you want to know. I'm sorry. I'm making assumptions."
Alice frowned, batting Rafael’s hand away from the shirt sleeve with her free hand and gently moving the sleeve up to expose the wound again. “If you hear anything, I’d certainly want to know,” she murmured. “But I think the secret is Gus or Lucas’s, have you met either of them?” She looked up and gave a pout. “Did one of the floors hurt you? We should get some ointment on it so it doesn’t get infected.”
He nodded again, willing to agree to anything should it allow him to keep his secrets. His tongue flicked out to wet his lips. "Okay," he said. He pulled his hand away and moved further down the ema, pointing at the little plate that had referenced his friend. "But it says her. Right? Wants you to notice her. I've met Gus, not Lucas, but… I don't think that really fits."
Alice frowned and followed Rafael the few steps down the wall and glanced at her plate. “I know, but I don’t know any girls who would like me. Plus, I’m straight. I can appreciate girls and find them pretty but I’ve never, you know, found them attractive in that way,” Alice replied, looking at the plate before looking back at Rafael’s wrist and then his face. “Rafael, really, are you okay? You’re acting a bit… unusual. Are you drunk? It’s okay if you are, I’m just wondering…”
He latched readily onto the excuse. "Mmhm. That honey beer on the third floor, you know? It's very good. You should try it if you haven't." Rafael turned to her, rubbing anxiously at the nape of his neck. "It's strong, though, so be careful. Not that any of us needs a DD right now…"
Laughing, he sidled closer to her again. He put his arm around her, squeezing her tightly, trying desperately to reassure her that all was well. "Don't worry about me, okay? Tell me about Gus and Lucas."
Alice slipped her arm around his waist and leaned against Rafael’s side, her gaze moving up to the plate with her name on it. “Gus is Brittany’s little brother and lives on this floor,” Alice breathed, able to keep her voice low by being so close to Rafael. “He’s adorable and sweet and goofy and I’ve known him for years. Lucas is a doctor, he visits me in the morning at the bakery and he is an awful flirt, but he’s sweet and kind.” Alice let her head drop to Rafael’s shoulder and sighed. “They’re both very nice and I think they like me, but I’m not very sure what to do. Maybe I should get some of that honey beer to help me think.” She giggled and gave Rafael’s side a squeeze.
He winced, gritting his teeth to curb the worst of the expression. "You should," he ground out, patting her shoulder as he gingerly extricated himself from beneath her arm. That done, the strain in his voice seemed to lessen somewhat.
"They both sound nice. Gus seemed nice when I met him. Much more relaxed than his sister." He chuckled. "I like her, though, BB. She's very energetic. It's nice to be around." He shrugged, stuffing his hands back into the pockets of his jeans. "Anyway. You don't have to decide anything now, you know? There's no rush. If they really do want to be with you, they'll be there when you're ready."
Alice nodded in agreement, but her sight was on Rafael again and her frown conveyed her dislike for what she saw. “Rafael, seriously, are you alright? You seem… hurt?” She came closer again and gently touched his shoulder. “How about we go to my apartment? I can make us some food, or we could eat leftovers, and I can put some A and D ointment on your wrist.” She tried for a smile and successfully pulled one off. “You can play with the wheat in my hair, you can tell me who you think has the secret that mentions your name, we can talk about boys… it’ll be nice.”
Rafael twitched a small smile. "Okay. I'd like that." Though he did not free his hands again, though he reciprocated her touch with a small nudge from his shoulder. His voice dropped, hovering just above a whisper. "I'm okay," he lied, more easily than he liked. "Just had a sort of difficult shoot recently. That's all. I promise." He bumped lightly into her again, his smile growing somewhat. "Nothing A&D and a cupcake can't fix."
Alice gave a sympathetic frown but said nothing in regard to the shoot, opting to take Rafael’s hand lightly with her own and begin guiding him down the hall and towards the elevator. “I’ll even make you a real meal,” Alice announced. “Pasta, sauce, nothing too exciting but it’ll be filling at least. I’m already getting low on food in my cabinets. Thank god I went grocery shopping on Saturday.”
She fell silent for a moment, trying to figure out a topic that could feel out what else was going on with Rafael. “So, has anything odd happened to you? Has your skin glowed or anything? My hair has been doing this, Isobel can make plants move…”
Rafael tried to envision it, but he was certain whatever he pictured was far short of the odd reality. "I should check on her. I haven't really been out to make sure everyone is doing all right. Moving plants doesn't sound too bad, though."
He thought back over the hours they'd spent trapped in the building. It was difficult to accurately assess if anything strange had happened to him; one event remained at the forefront of his mind, and every moment of that had focused wholly on Abel. He held the elevator door for her, pressing the button as he waited and considered. "Well… I think it's been a little warmer than usual," he said, knowing full well that might have been only the effects of the drugs. "Glowing, though… no. Honestly, I haven't really paid that much attention." He smiled over at her, the elevator car jolting into motion. "I'll let you know if anything happens, though?"
“Definitely, we can compare how our bodies morph into strange things.” Alice grinned at Rafael, trying to encourage happiness as the elevator descended the few floors and dinged, opening up to the tropical-like floor that was Alice’s. “And you can tell me all about that secret that has your name on it.” She gently elbowed his side and rose her eyebrows. “I suspect there’s a good story for that, huh?”
Rafael's smile turned muted and small. He shuffled out onto the floor, enjoying the balmy air of the level. "A story, yes," he said. "I'm not sure yet if it's good."
He fell silent again until they reached her door. His gaze darted around, his pupils still far too wide, ringed by only the thinnest circle of blue. He shifted his weight from one foot to another, a cornered animal ready to flee at a moment's notice. But they were alone in the hall, and he relaxed when the door opened, moving into her home at an almost reasonable speed. He relaxed all the more once the door was shut and locked behind them.
"Can I help with dinner?" he asked, scratching idly at one cloth-covered arm. Alice turned to him and crossed her arms.
“Not right now,” she said sternly. “You, sit there.” She pointed to the bar stool at her large kitchen island. Obediently he sat, his lips pursing and faintly downturned at the corners. “I’m going to get the first aid kit. I saw your other wrist too. We’re going to get you patched up first, then you can help me with dinner.”
She didn’t wait for a response, opting to disappear around the corner into the living room and then into the confines of her bedroom. It didn’t take her long to return with a little red case, stuffed to the gills with various first aid supplies.
“Roll up your sleeves, come on,” she waved her hand toward Rafael as she set the kit onto the island and opened it up. “Have you washed that off?”
"Washed what?" He hitched up his sleeves, gathering them up around his elbows. The worst of the cuts on the backs of his arms were still well out of sight. "These?" He looked down at his wounds, turning his wrists to better see them under the sharper light. "Yes. I mean, I showered. They should be clean."
“Okay.” Alice began neatly organizing the contents of the first aid kit and selected the ointment of choice. Looking around the kitchen, she grabbed a paper towel and poured the ointment onto it before taking Rafael’s hand and beginning to gingerly dab the ointment to the raw areas around his wrist. “So, this is all from work? Do you get hurt like this often? And it’s okay, you can tell me, I promise I won’t panic like I did with the dildo.” She managed to smirk a little and keep her blushing at bay as she glanced at Rafael to catch his dilated eyes.
His laugh was sincere, but its edges were as rough as the rest of him. "It's okay," he said. "I mean it. You don't have to worry about me, or even ask about this kind of thing." He turned his hand beneath her touch, allowing her to apply as much of the salve as she liked. He had to admit it felt good: cooling and soft, a gentleness he desperately needed.
"Um. I don't, though. No. I…" He cleared his throat, working to delicately word what he needed to say. "I'm usually more careful about who I work with. I try to be, anyway. Lately that's not really working out. But that's on me, you know, so."
Alice gave her friend a worried glance as she moved to pick up gauze and gently, so gently, wrap it around Rafael’s one wrist. “Could you maybe request not to do that stuff anymore? Whatever it is that’s hurting you? Or maybe… maybe take a few days off. I mean, beside this weird week that we’re in. You could go be a beach bum for a couple days and get fat off cupcakes.” She flashed a grin as he laughed, and moved around to his other side to begin dabbing ointment on his other wrist. “You know, I thought this was going to be like Beauty and the Beast. You know, the part where Belle tries to clean up the Beast’s wounds and he’s all grumpy about it? But you’re a much better patient.”
"Thank you." He gave her a little flourish of a bow, or at least as close an approximation as could be managed while sitting. "I try to be accommodating," he said, hitting far too close to a truth he did not fully acknowledge. "But yes, I'll have to take some time off after this. I'll definitely be on the beach, but no getting fat. Injuries are hard enough to work around. I don't need extra pounds to explain away, too." He chuckled, but his expression made clear he was not entirely joking.
“Well, I think you look fine,” Alice said with a smile. “And I’m sure you would still look fine if you put on weight from cupcakes. But, just to be sure, I’ll only give you one slice of cake after dinner.” She completed placing the ointment on his wrist and reached for the gauze. She kept glancing at his face, studying his posture, his eyes, the tone of his voice. She wanted to shake him gently by the shoulders and beg him to be completely honest, but she suspected he wouldn’t. Perhaps it was for the best and yet she couldn’t quite bring herself to force him to admit to whatever was going on.
“Do you have other scratches or anything? I’ll patch you right up and I promise, I won’t pry about it. We can talk of other things… the secret with your name on it… would you rather grow that crazy beard in our dream or glow like the sun… take bets on whether or not i’m going to turn into a person made out of plants…” She paused and pushed a strand of wheat from her face.
Rafael laughed again, and latched onto every topic that was not his current state. Even someone else's secret made a less shameful point of conversation, particularly now that they were out of the open hallway. "I doubt you will," he said, "but if you did, I'd still come and visit. It worked well enough in the dream, didn't it?" He took her hand when she finished with his bandages. He squeezed it tightly, willing her to understand the gratitude he felt too weak, too ashamed, to put to words now. Later, when he had collected himself, he would make it up to her. Alice stilled and looked at Rafael, her smile soft, and she gave a small nod.
He rubbed at his jawline, toying with the five o'clock shadow that had sprung up there. "Let's see… I think I'd rather glow. I could always grow a beard, but glowing seems… pleasant. Maybe annoying when you're trying to sleep, though…"
Alice let out a small laugh and moved away from Rafael to get a pot and fill it with water. “It seems a little weird that we’re going to make pasta when I have wheat growing out of my head. Better yet, that I am a baker and I have wheat growing out of my head with the potential of turning into a plant woman.” She hit the tab, shutting it off, and hefted the pot of water to the stove. “But maybe it’s fitting? Maybe that’s all a part of this? And you, you’re like a sun god on your own. When we were at the pool you looked so happy, like you were meant to be in sunshine, so maybe you’re meant to glow.”
Returning to the island and leaning against it with her elbows and placing her chin in her palm, Alice’s hair fanned out over her shoulders and the wheat glinted the kitchen light, but she smiled all the same at her friend. “You already do glow in your own way, just not, you know, quite like Freyr.”
The name returned to him like a memory; it had eluded him since the dream, though he had heard it spoken in his own voice. He smiled, both at her compliment and this newly discovered bit of information. He wished he felt deserving of either. "Thank you, Alice," he said, small words to encompass so much.
"It does seem fitting," he agreed. "You're very generous and thoughtful. You already give a lot of yourself. Now, with this…" He gestured to her hair. "That's sort of literal, too." He shook his head. Glancing down to his bandages, he began to worry at one, tanned fingers sliding gently over gauze. "Maybe these dreams, and all these weird things, are just us becoming more of what we already were."
Alice glanced down, a hand lifting to touch a strand of wheat. “Do you think? With the floors changing and my hair and Isobel...it’s like we were all destined to come here, like we have a bigger calling than we realize.” She let go of the wheat and it dropped, settling amongst her red strands. The water in the pot began to boil and Alice pushed away from the counter and retrieved a box of spaghetti.
“We should google the names, you know, when we have internet again. I keep thinking that maybe we’re all drugged, that the floor stuff isn’t happening, but everything is too real. The wheat, if I pull it I feel it tug at my scalp. You got drunk off the beer in the hall. Like, this stuff is real and maybe we are becoming more of what we’re meant to be.”
It was a pleasant thought, at least for now. Rafael liked the idea that he was destined for something, though the moment he thought this something deep within seemed to chide him.
"It feels real enough," he said, "but lots of things can. I don't think we'll really know until we can get out." If we get out, he thought, but did not say. "I do recognize 'Freyr,' or I think I do. I didn't remember the name until you said something. He's Norse, though, which… doesn't make any sense. I don't have any family ties, that I know of, anyway, that would make me dream about him, or have any connection to him." He nodded to her. "What about yours? Do you recognize anything about her?"
Alice shook her head as she reached for a can of premade sauce and poured it into another pot. “I’m assuming it’s Asian, the grass woman’s name. Uke Mochi, right? I don’t even know if I’m pronouncing it right. But isn’t mochi some type of dessert? Doesn’t seem to fit with her being made out of grain.”
She turned her back to the boiling water and the recently poured sauce to beeline to the fridge. Opening the door, she withdrew a white cake and sat it on the counter before Rafael. “That’s for dessert. I think you could spare the calories for a slice of cake after whatever happened with work.”
Rafael's smile returned. He leaned down over the cake, breathing in the airy, sweet scent of its icing. "That looks amazing," he said. "I will absolutely have a slice."
He propped himself up on his elbows, watching her move through the kitchen. "Wait… you know, mochi is a dessert, but it's a rice cake. So the grain part still fits. It's Japanese… maybe this Uke Mochi is, too."
A half smile curled Alice’s lips as Alice retrieved two plates and sat them on the island. “Huh, then yeah, I guess that makes sense. She wasn’t just wheat, there was rice that made her up as well.
“And what about the sixth floor, you know? It has that Japanese vibe. Maybe that’s why I feel so comfortable with it, because Uke Mochi feels comfortable with it.” She looked out the window by the dining table and out to the sea. “I wonder if we could talk to them, Freyr and Uke Mochi. I wonder if they know more than we do, if they could tell us what’s going on and why they are a part of us… or we’re a part of them. I mean, I’m Irish through and through, it seems… odd.”
Rafael nodded. His still-reeling mind latched onto this idea, running with it with an utter lack of cynicism he might not have felt otherwise. "It would help if we could," he said. "Even if they're just... " He gestured vaguely, one bandage exposed as he waved a hand in the air. "I don't know. Figments of our imagination. Maybe tapping into that would help us understand why us, and why them. Do you think there's a way to… I don't know. Trigger the dreams?" Some part of him hoped the answer might involve hallucinogens, or some other entertaining chemical designed -- in part, at least -- to expand the mind.
Alice quirked her lips and tipped her head to the side as she considered the question. “I don’t know, really. Each time I’ve had a dream so far, I’ve just been super tired. But I’ve been exhausted for weeks, if not months, and the dreams only started recently.
“So I don’t think the level of sleepiness is tied with the dreams, but it does seem that proximity or comfort level is a factor. I’m close to you, I’m close to Brittany, so I had dreams with the both of you. Maybe with you here, maybe we can get the dreams going again, you know, because we’re hanging out together.” She grinned at this idea and moved toward the pot to stir the spaghetti.
"Um… you know…" He shifted in his seat, lowering his hands to fold them before him on the countertop. His fingertips pulled at his sleeves, an anxious little motion. "I think that's worth a try. And honestly I'd like some company.... would you mind if I stayed? Just for tonight." He smiled sheepishly. "You'll hardly notice I'm here."
Alice turned slowly to face Rafael but wore a grin. “Of course!” She bounced on her toes closer to the island, clutching a pasta spoon with her hand. “You can stay for however long you’d like, Rafael! You’re always welcome, particularly if you’d like the company. And honestly, with the floors being so strange, I’d kind of like company too. Would the couch be alright? It’s super comfy and I have extra pillows and blankets.”
"Oh, absolutely. Of course. Thank you, Alice." He reached down and pushed at the baggie in his pocket, reassuring himself it was well out of sight. He could go the rest of the night without renewing his high; Alice deserved at least that much. "I really owe you after all this. When things get back to normal, I'm going to make the best feast for you. You'll see."
“I bet you will,” Alice replied with another brilliant smile. “But for now, let’s have some crappy pasta and sauce from a jar. Then we can get some blankets and watch a DVD on the couch with that cake.”
"A perfect night," Rafael said. Beaming brightly, he rose from his seat, and circled the island to come and help dole out food.