lydia preston (canhearyou) wrote in supernextdoor, @ 2011-09-09 20:46:00 |
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Entry tags: | 09.03.11, lydia |
Who: Gabe and Lydia
What: A gentleman offers his services to a damsel in distress.
When: Late Saturday night
Where: In front of Mercy, then through Toronto
Warning: Creepers?
The heat of late summer was finally beginning to give way to fall. Lydia relished the change in seasons; cooler weather meant fewer crowds, particularly on weeknights. Nobody felt the need to squeeze in every possible minute outside, and she could start wearing sweaters and jackets again. Something about summer clothes left her feeling uncomfortably exposed, but she couldn't spend the whole season in a hoodie or hide inside. Though she certainly tried. Besides, all that bare skin made her worry that she'd spontaneously become even more telepathic and be able to start speaking into other people's heads if she touched them. And that was a terrifying thought.
More ordinary terrors didn't even cross her mind. To Lydia it was just another walk across the city, perhaps a little later than usual since she'd stopped for dinner at an Indian restaurant that was a bit further away from her apartment. But someone was definitely following her, and the combination of traffic noise, the girls teetering past her in their heels and their loud voices and thoughts, and her extra-loud music meant that she missed the whisper of planning from the gaunt man behind her.
The club had been quiet for most of the night, so Gabriel asked for his break early. He'd been a little on edge when one woman, very drunk, decided to try and flirt with him. And touch him. His body tensed and locked up, wanting desperately to pull away. There must have been a god because one of her friends had a right enough mind to pull her away. It was enough to have the hair on the back of his neck standing straight up though.
Stepping out onto the street, he pulled a pack of cigs out, lighting one quick and taking a much needed drag. The edge eased but only for a moment. There was a smaller woman headed his way with a lousy but unfortunately familiar face following behind her. Weighing his options, Gabe decided at the next possible moment to move toward her, murmuring a, "just keep walking" as he moved behind her, now making himself a barrier between the man and her.
Having some choice words with the man, it took a bit of a telling off to get him to move along, but Gabe made it happen. Thankfully, the man didn't head in the direction of the girl he was stalking. This was the same guy that had tried to drag a girl unwillingly out the front of the place two nights ago against her will. Everyone who worked there knew his face now, so he was surprised to even see him this close to the establishment.
Turning around, he wasn't really expecting to see the girl still there, "He uh...Didn't talk to you or anything, did he?"
Lydia only realized that something was happening when a new voice threaded its way through the music in her ears. This one was different; instead of chatter or worry it was... focused. Not just determined but single-minded, a clear voice speaking with assurance instead of a self-directed babble. But it wasn't another telepath, it wasn't a projection into her mind. She hastily dialed down the volume on her music and turned to see two men standing behind her. And one of them was getting in the other's face. Now that she could hear their thoughts it became clear what was going on: not just your ordinary street scuffle between two drunks, but an actual fucking good samaritan stepping in to save her from some creep who definitely intended harm. That was unexpected.
She was so caught up in listening and watching as the creep scuttled away that she hadn't realized she was still at the scene of the would-be crime, and Lydia jumped a little when the intervening man turned to her. "What? No. Or if he did I didn't hear it. Did he really try to abduct some girl from the club? How did he think that would work?" She realized she was answering his thoughts directly, which was pretty goddamned rude considering he'd just saved her from a mugging or possibly worse, and shut her mouth. "Um. Thanks. For... saving me, I guess. That sounds so bizarre."
Her reaction was quick and she seemed generally surprised. The elevated heart rate was a dead giveaway. But having her dip into his mind like that, Gabriel didn’t exactly appreciate. Wait....she could read his mind. Give her a bit of a stink eye, he leaned in close, “Don’t do that again. I don’t think I need to explain to you what I mean. But yeah, he’s tried to do it before. You’re lucky you came by when you did.” Checking her over, he figured she was alright, if shaken up.
“You going to be ok? Or do you need someone to walk you home? I’m not sure how creeped out you’d be if I offered.” He shifted awkwardly as he lit up another cigarette, considering his last was ruined during the scuffle.
Lydia stood her ground. She wasn't about to be scared off by some asshole who thought telepathy was all fun. "I don't do this on purpose, okay? I'm sorry." Her chin went up, jaw set stubbornly as her eyes met his. This close she could hear his thoughts even more easily, but they were... warm, somehow, focused and clear and with a burr of a growl underlying them. He wasn't a standard human, that much was clear. And now she was starting to feel more frightened than she would have otherwise. "Yeah, lucky I didn't get stalked all the way home."
Then the man - Gabe, that was always easy enough to pick out of background thoughts - offered to walk her home, and she hesitated. He was definitely interesting. But was he more dangerous than the creep? Was this a good idea or was she going to end up a newspaper headline the next day? Lydia had always been the sort of girl who followed her gut, and something was telling her that this was someone she should listen to more closely. So she gave him another searching look, then nodded. He didn't have any subconscious thoughts about getting her alone, at least. That was reassuring enough. "Yeah. I - that would be nice. Thanks."
“Sounds good. I’ll be right back though, I’m on my break right now. I doubt they’d yell at me for offering to walk a patron home safely,” Gabe gave her a crooked smile, “Because that creep was hassling you before you even walked in this place.” If she could read his mind, he knew she could see where he was going with this if anyone asked. He doubted the floor boss for that night would let him just head off to walk a random person home, but a regular patron would be different. Slipping inside through the side door, Gabe went inside to explain before coming back out.
Slinging his jacket on, Gabe lit up another cigarette and walked over to her, blowing the white plume of smoke out his nose, “So, which way are we headed?”
"Okay. Thanks." Lydia slipped her headphones off to rest around her neck, tugging her ponytail free while she waited. On second thought, she pulled the elastic out of her hair, letting the curls fall out around her face. It would give her something else to hide behind. Or something like that. She fought back a wince at the increased noise of the thoughts around her - although the pounding music from inside the club helped muffle it a bit. So did the sheer number of voices. It was hard to get distracted when it was just a cacophonous blend of thoughts instead of just a few discordant minds pinging off her brain.
"A knight in shining twill," she remarked when Gabe came back out of the club. Lydia wrinkled her nose at the smoke, then started down the sidewalk in the direction she'd been walking before he had stopped her. "This way. Down near Ryerson, if you know it," she said, glancing over her shoulder. It wasn't like she needed to look and see where he was, but it made her feel better all the same.
“More like second hand store. Nothing really shining, but it’s a nice thought.” Following behind her, he finally moved up to fall into step with her, his ears picking up on her heart rate now that had calmed. It was nice to hear it not pounding like it was before. “You should be a bit more careful around here at night though, or anywhere for that matter. I know this is one of those stereotypical speeches, but I’m sure you know what I’m getting at. Last thing anyone wants, anyone with a conscience wants, is someone getting hurt or attacked.”
Rounding the corner, he threw a side glance at her, “What’s your name? Or is that a little too...personal?”
Enhanced senses, she realized, if he could hear her heartbeat. Which meant definitely a supernatural, and he didn't have the peculiar cold echo that vampires did. So: probably a were of some sort. Okay. She could handle that. Most weres didn't indiscriminately attack people and it wasn't a full moon, so she was safe from that at least. "I am careful," she said. "I've been fine so far, without any big strong men to walk me home every night." Lydia glanced up at him and gave him a sideways smile; she didn't mean any harm, really. She just had very stunted social skills.
His question made her smile a little more genuine, since she already knew his name without having to ask. "I'm Lydia. Not too personal." Especially not since he was listening to her heartbeat and could probably tell the last time she'd showered. But she wasn't going to answer his thoughts again.
Gabe couldn’t help but laugh a little, “Didn’t know I was classified as a big strong man. Coming from the short man here next to you, the sentiment is appreciated.” Her pulse had finally settled and it put him slightly at ease. The soft breeze helped too, but knowing that the surroundings were much calmer helped him ease quite a bit.
“Lydia.” He repeated the name. Gabe didn’t just log names and faces into memory like most people. He’d file them away with smells and sounds. The specific way her heart beat in her chest when she was calm was another defining feature. It was a habit he’d had since he was younger. Him and his sister would do so frequently together. The thought of his Ava being so far away still made him sad. “It’s nice to meet you.”
He had a nice laugh, she reflected, although it didn't seem like something many people got to hear. "Compared to me, everybody's big." Lydia wasn't bitter about her height; it was simply part of her, and far less irritating than the telepathy. That was why mankind invented the stepladder. The street grew quieter as they walked away from the club and back towards her apartment, and his thoughts were quiet too, warm and velvety next to her instead of chattering away. It was oddly soothing and not something she was used to. But she liked it.
The way he was almost memorizing her name along with her vital signs and her scent - that was weird, and a little unsettling. And she itched to ask him about his sister Ava and just what it was like growing up in a pack, with a sibling, with a family that was caring and loving instead of just brittle and polished. Yet she didn't want to scare him away. And that feeling was new and strange. "Nice to meet you too. And I don't say that to a lot of people. So you should feel special." God, she sounded like an idiot.
“Well I feel very special now, thank you very much.” He gave her a small smile and stuffed his hands into his jacket pockets, “I’m not exactly the type that has friends. Still trying to get used to talking to people. And please do me the the favor of not searching my mind for those reasons if possible.” His body tightened up a bit at the thought and cursed himself internally for even mentioning it. Even more so, he tried to focus his thoughts on anything else but those memories. At least he hoped it was working.
“But uh...anyways,” He looked around, then back over at her, “So you live down this way? Places are pretty nice around here.”
She sighed, shaking her head and sending her curls bouncing. "It doesn't work like that. I don't search people's minds." At least, not most of the time. "I just... hear what they're thinking. It's like being in a restaurant. Even if you're not sitting there taking notes you can still hear what the people at the next table are talking about." So yes, she was already hearing whispers of his thoughts, about loneliness and sterile rooms and the fear of being trapped there and trapped inside his own skin, the heavy paws and lashing tail, but she wasn't deliberately sifting through to find out exactly how it all fit together. And now he was thinking about... real estate, so that was nice and neutral.
"Yeah, I have a loft," she said lightly. "I'm an artist." Now he could ask her stupid questions about her art and she'd be back in familiar territory. "And it's a good area. Fewer random creeps. Most of the time, anyway."
“An artist? Are we talking traditional or all encompassing? I know a few local actors up here that simply refer to themselves as artists. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. I just personally find the title deceiving in that case.” She didn’t really strike him as the type, but she could be. Though with her gift, there was no use in hiding the slight distaste he often had for people who were full of themselves.
As they moved further down the block, the familiar scent of her filled the air. She had to live somewhere close. That or she knew someone around here. It was strong, lingering. And a dead giveaway with whatever she washed her clothes with.
"In the common usage of the word, yes," she said, glancing at him. "Painting, drawing, some mixed media work. And what, you don't think theatre's an art?" Now there was a debate she'd had before. The stage wasn't her chosen venue but it seemed silly to dismiss the medium entirely. "Or is it just those actors you think are pompous jerks?" Okay, maybe overstepping a bit, but his tone of voice belied his thoughts more than any telepathy would have. It was nice to have someone not trying to think two entirely different ways at once. "Besides, if I was I'd just get cast in children's parts. Or shivering ingenues." The best she could hope for was Ophelia, and that would get old fast.
Knowing he could smell her as they neared her building sent a thrill through her, fear and a little excitement at this new concept. She didn't know many weres. Or many people in general. But they walked in silence up to her street until she veered slightly towards her building's door. "This is me," she said, stopping in the circle of light from the entryway's lamp. "Thanks again. I, um. Can I offer you a cup of coffee or something?" A hint of pink touched her cheeks; with a were it was no use pretending she wasn't blushing. Asking someone back for coffee was a standard come-on, but she didn't mean it that way. Really.
“Just the pompous jerks. I believe that theatre’s an art. But local productions of Annie Get Your Gun doesn’t make you Gary Oldman, you know?” Gabe laughed lightly and looked back over at her, “It’s cool that you’re talented like that. I’ll have to share some stick figure sketches sometime and we can compare. Though I’m sure yours will be much nicer.”
With a heavy sigh, Gabe shook his head, “I’ll have to take a rain check. They’re going to need me back at work. Do you...text?” It came out awkwardly, like he really hoped it hadn’t, but he wasn’t exactly good at those types of things. “I mean, I don’t have much of a social life... Wow that sounded pretty bad.” He laughed and pulled a pen out of his back pocket he used to mark hands at the door with and pulled out an old receipt and scribbled his number on it, “You could, you know... Text me sometime when you’re feeling bored or whatever.” On the top of the receipt, he’d scribbled his name.
Lydia smiled. That laugh was infectious, and she almost wished she could hear more of it. "I could draw with my left hand or something, if it would make you feel better." Obviously hers would be nicer. It was only what she did for a living, after all. And it wasn't arrogance if it was true.
Whatever awkwardness Gabe might have had in his question was easily matched by Lydia's own communication issues, so she simply watched him fidget and laugh. "I don't either," she said simply, with a shrug. "It's hard when most people get irritated when you finish their sentences." And if he'd been anyone else she would have thrown away the slip of paper or cut him off. He wasn't, though; he was a were, he got over being creeped out by her powers remarkably quickly, and he'd offered to escort her home for no reason other than simply being a decent person. That was intriguing. So she took the receipt and looked back up at him with a shy, unguarded smile and decided to take a leap of faith. "I will. It was nice to meet you, Gabe." Not that she'd needed the note to know his name. But he'd trusted her with it. That meant something. She offered him her hand to shake. "And thank you."
Taking the small woman’s hand back, Gabriel gave it a light but firm handshake, “Anytime, Lydia. And don’t worry about finishing my sentences. It just makes the conversations progress faster is all.” He gave her a small grin as he took a step back, “If you ever need anything though, give me a text. If I’m free I’ll come over and play body guard. That or sit in for a sketch party, right?”
Chuckling, he gave her a quick nod and headed back down the street toward the club.