forum There are voices in our heads rp (Closed)

Started October 16, 2018 by @basil_

tune

Tomorrow at the stone ledge by the lake. 9:00 am. He told her, this being the busiest time in the town.

Tomorrow at the stone ledge by the lake. 9:00 am., came the reply. Macha picked at the dirt beneath her thumbnail, considering this. Sure., she thought back, even as her memories warned her to be very afraid of people who could see inside her head. How much did he know about her, she wondered apprehensively.

Good.. He sighed and leaned back.

Wishing she could close off her mind to him like one could close the screen of a laptop after emailing a stranger, Macha leaned back against the wall, eyes absentmindedly roaming the walls of her cramped room. A red bucket in the corner that served to catch the drips of water that dribbled down from the leaky ceiling was the only splash of colour in her white and grey bedroom, which consisted of a hard but thick mattress with a couple sheets thrown over it shoved into the corner farthest from the door, a tiny window in the wall also farthest from the door, creaking, uneven, and greying floorboards, a small white desk crammed into the corner opposite from the mattress-bed which was overflowing with stacks of scribbled-on paper and files and manuscripts and essays and analyses and notes on random subjects, plus the complex assortment of huge maps, blueprints, and pages of writing plastered on the walls, some connected by strings tied around pegs and pins. She didn't have a bookshelf, so piles of thick, well taken-care-of books were set against the walls, many with papers and sticky notes pressed between the pages, mythologies and textbooks, architecture books, analogies, books of poetry, diagrams of the human brain, old stories and legends that she had collected over the years. A tiny built-in closet in the corner of the wall that held her desk was sparsely filled with only white and grey clothing, the occasional pair of black leggings, but mostly pale monochrome. A grimy mirror with cracked glass hung on the wall next to it.

Tyler stood up, sick of being here already. He thought a smaller room would be better. To hold himself together. He realized now that there was no more trying to stay sane. This was far past sane. It was bad enough being one of the only magic persons in the town but now there was nothing normal left about him. How will I tell people.. He thought, standing up and walking out of the room and out of the house. I won’t.

Macha felt like banging her head against the wall. Instead, she lay down on her mattress and curled up, one wing acting like a blanket as she closed her eyes and listened to the steady dripping of the water from the ceiling into her red bucket. Drip, drip, drip. Her whole body felt heavy and exhausted, even though it was still morning, probably due to the fact that she'd slept about two hours last night. That, coupled with the events concerning Tyler, made for one hell of a headache. Drip, drip… drip, drip. She was mentally struggling to control her thoughts in a way that they wouldn't be broadcasted to the stranger in her head, and it was exhausting. Sighing, she opened her eyes and let them trace over the maps on the wall opposite to her. The Acropolis, ancient Athens, Atlantis, she had it all. Mythical maps and imaginings of fabled places pinned up with maps of ancient ruins and cities. The collection had taken her years to accumulate, but it was now larger than she'd ever imagined. Macha sighed again, closing her eyes once more.

Tyler walked down to the edge of the lake and sat down on the ledge. It was getting late but he wasn’t going to stick around to watch his father come home exhausted and mad. He laid down, his back resting against the cold concrete. His eyes closed slowly and he drifted off.

For sure!)

Macha leaned against the wall, sitting cross legged on her bed with a university architecture textbook open in her lap. The clock read 8:00am. One more hour until her meeting with Tyler. After a few more minutes of trying to concentrate, she gave up, snapped the textbook shut, and got off her bed. She grabbed a hairbrush, dragging it through her tangled until they smoothed out, and changed out of sweatpants and a t-shirt and into a loose shouldered white top and grey leggings. Not that she’d gotten much use out of the pyjamas, she hadn’t slept a wink last night, mostly just read and wrote, plus a load of worrying about her upcoming meeting with the stranger in her head. Macha sighed and slipped out of her room, praying that her dad wasn’t awake yet.

Tyler almost dozed off again, his forehead resting on his knee. It had been about 4:30 when he woke up and his back was sore from sleeping on the ledge. You can stay awake one more hour..

Macha slipped into the hallway, cringing as the stairs creaked loudly on her way down. She made her way into the cramped kitchen… only to bump into her dad. "Mach, good morning!" Hans Rosendorfer smiled down at his daughter over a pair of wire-rimmed spectacles. "Morning dad.", she managed, faking a smile. "I've got some stuff I need to do, by the lake… err, analysis of waterfowl.", she lied. "Habits and such."

Hans smiled. "Be home by noon, you've got work at 12:30."
"I know, Papa."

She hastily ate a small breakfast, and was out the door by 8:30.

Tyler scowled down at the ledge and waited for Macha, not feeling anything. He felt people looking at him and he hated it.

Macha hurried down the street and under the bridge, heading for the lake. Her nerves were buzzing and her hands were clenched, if they hadn’t been made of stone they might have been sweating from her anxiety. She checked the time. 8:50. Ohgodohgodohgod. Finally, she caught a glimpse of his blue hair.

Tyler tensed for some reason and took a deep breath. You’re here aren’t you. He thought without looking up.

You’re here aren’t you. It wasn’t posed as a question. Macha shivered, choosing to respond verbally. “Yeah.” She swallowed, stomach flipping. What was she doing?

Tyler glanced up, a frown on his face and he looked exhausted. “Well then Macha..” He said, pronouncing her name perfectly. “It’s nice to finally meet you..”

(Good morning!)

Macha wished she could say the same. But in all honesty, she wished that the voices in her head would just stay voices. “You too.”, she said finally, sitting down next to him on the ledge, still a safe distance away. After a pause, she attempted to make conversation. “How.. how old are you?”

(Good morning!)

Macha wished she could say the same. But in all honesty, she wished that the voices in her head would just stay voices. “You too.”, she said finally, sitting down next to him on the ledge, still a safe distance away. After a pause, she attempted to make conversation. “How.. how old are you?”

(Good morning!)

Macha wished she could say the same. But in all honesty, she wished that the voices in her head would just stay voices. “You too.”, she said finally, sitting down next to him on the ledge, still a safe distance away. After a pause, she attempted to make conversation. “How.. how old are you?”

(Morning!)
Tyler continued to stare down at the concrete. “19. How about you?” He could tell She was nervous. It was like now that they’ve met he suddenly could just know things about her. He felt like they’ve know each other for so long.

(how are you?)

Macha self-consciously pursed her chapped lips— how were they even chapped, they were made of stone! She’d never know— not daring to look at Tyler. He was probably staring at her stone skin, wondering how the person in his head could look so monstrous in real life, and she wasn’t ready for his judgement yet. “I’m eighteen. I turn nineteen in January.”, she said awkwardly, stomach tied into a million knots. Running a finger over the heavy bags under her eyes, she cleared her throat. “Are you.. do you go to university?”

(I’m ok. Hbu?)
“My dad wants me too and I keep telling him to not waste the money on me. Even though I’m sure you already know that..” He added the last part quietly, still not looking up at her.

(I’m pretty good)

Macha stared at the ground, before nodding. She did know, just as he probably knew that her dad didn’t have enough money to send her, and neither did she. “You’re smart, though.”, she blurted out before she could regret it. “You should go.”

“It’s too late now, you know that. He won’t listen to anything I have to say anymore.” His hand clenched tightly at his side as he talked about his father.