Cavan Darling (darling_boy) wrote in blood_red_sky, @ 2011-09-20 20:21:00 |
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Entry tags: | cavan darling |
Arrival (Narrative)
Cavan stepped off of the train, one of the last bastions of travel that didn't try to look at your internal organs from the outside when you just wanted to get aboard. He preferred it over the bus, as he could get a private cabin and stay to himself, whereas on the bus he tended to get homicidal within minutes. There was no good place on a bus to kill anyone with discretion.
There were things that he carried with him that planes and airline attendants didn't approve of. Even when he made a special package of it and checked it instead of carrying it on with him. There were always questions, always things missing. Neither of which he liked. Especially the latter. He put a lot of time and effort into his collection, making it important to him. Certainly more important than the thieving fingers of Charge You For Fucking Water Airline's baggage handler. The unfortunate part was the inability to know who had touched what.
Pennsylvania reminded Cavan a lot of Portland, Oregon. There were trees everywhere, and so far York didn't seem to be particularly spectacular. Of course, he was just seeing this world from it's train station, and he supposed that wasn't very fair. Train stations didn't tend to be anything special anywhere.
Things here, from what he'd read, were certainly more exciting than Portland. Mysterious happenings. Unexplainable beings. The internet was rife with descriptions of things that interested and attracted Cavan. He'd known pretty quickly that he needed to be in the middle of it. To try new things. It hadn't been difficult to come up with or execute a plan that would be plausible to his mother and explain to anyone curious as to why he'd moved clear across the country. College. It also helped him out with the cash portion of the problem. All he'd had to say was that he had a partial scholarship. Covered all the classes and books, but not the rest. His mother had been tickled pink to hand over enough to get him an apartment and food. She'd said that she would provide these things until he was done with his education, and sent him off with a box of homemade cookies.
Fucking cookies.
Cavan couldn't really help but suspect she might be glad to have him out of the house. She may have never said so, but he knew she blamed him for his father's death. Which was alright with him. She'd been oh so careful around him since he'd been 'hospitalized', but she couldn't quite hide the look in her eyes when they fell upon her son. The way she just moped around the house all the time. She might not say it out loud, but she really didn't need to.
He looked at the box of cookies and tossed them at a girl sitting with her doll outside the ticket window, not caring where they landed. It would probably be the nicest thing he did the entire time he was in York.