The Rage Cage Chronicles - Ooo... Shiny!
It started with a hug; a Full-Blown matter that caught me by surprise... no small Miracle mind you. As Guarded as I've been... only a Close Friend and above can get that close to me... and only Pack dare remain within my arms for more than a heartbeat!!! She lingered long enough for her shampoo to tickle Memory... and as I pulled back...
I looked into her eyes and tried to Remember the conversation where she told me what shampoo she used; I couldn’t recall the Tale so I pulled out a few names, trying to guess. So... that explains how I Saw utter amazement as she told me. She wasn't stunned that I didn't remember; that I seemed interested enough to look into her eyes, FORCE the Memory to surface over Cold Ruthless Bastard stuck in the Rage Cage. Then she began playing with her hair...
It's long... well below her breasts; used to be lusciously-approaching-Small-of-the-Back... but the dread Split-Ends and other such matters necessitated what, to me, was significant. Never mind that as long as she was Living it would return...
Then something else Struck me... a Thought part unique... and a Revelation from Seeing her Smile dazzle my Gaze: Kinda went from Mad-On to Happy Puppy... Quick there...
Fast enough for my usual Cold, Emotionless, barely-Controlled Rage Mish-Mosh Tone to INSTANTLY become something only one other Soul has ever heard: a high-pitched nerd-based barking laughter that does NOT SOUND POSSIBLE from MY nearly-always snarling lips. Indeed she recoiled, but in utter astonishment...
* * * *
Stuck in the Rage Cage, the Dark Thoughts weren't far off; I Felt my Mental Sweep of my Co-Workers ping-off as each and every Soul within ear shot of what has just transpired was Mind-Raped for how much they were Paying Attention.
The exclamation is too loud and a Server admonishes me in amazingly Polite Kitchen-Style; proper warned I drop my Tone... in Thought; the GM raises their Voice, admonishing the one who rightly Slapped Me Hand... and in the Process, I caught Dripping Anger, as if a vast pot were seething-to-near-boiling-over within them.
Don't Ask for the Details of that Conversation: Private Issue.
But... it really doesn't matter what we talked about; she's got an Ol' Man and THAT, according to Local Rules, means somethin's goin' on between us.
Opposite Sex equals No Friendship... so we can't be Playing Quick Catch-Up during those brief minutes; we can't be Saying Hello in that oddball Way all Friends share. Nope... SEX always taints everything and...
I REFUSE to let it Tarnish the Bright memory of hugging a Friend...
* * * *
So instead... I Focus on the Forms and that Hollow Area... that place where they'd KILL to eavesdrop onto our conversation; the get by via moving in such a manner that two Conditions are met. First... they are doing enough work to avoid the GM's direct Notice...
Second, and perhaps most... frustrating... DON'T Piss Off the Angry Black Man!!!
So... while part of my Attention is locked on her eyes, filing away the Data for later Recall... another does its level best to gauge the Fear Level from each Form, separating that from their Interest... prying into their Thoughts... Searching for that Sound, miscue or other Signal that Alerts me that they've crossed a defined all-too-real unspoken Line; even as our Conversation leaves the Rage Cage confines... I Feel the Chain connecting Work... what I was there for...
To the all-too-HUMAN Soul that Longed to spend Time polishing that Priceless Jewel Known as Friendship; See... I Know a Great Secret...
* * * *
Such paltry Concepts as Friends are immensely Powerful to a Human; part whet stone... part untouchable Ancient Treasure, underestimating its raw power will always be ones Demise.
Alone, there are many Possibilities, though only Miracle permits one the image of a victorious Lone Warrior against vast countless foes; the typical Outcome sees the Lone Figure fall. This is an End... though NOT the Final outcome... unless the Will ceases to TRY... unless Hope is LOST.
However... add a Friend... and suddenly miracle becomes just another Day in Paradise, that common Kitchen utterance just before you ass gets handed to you from a MAD Rush; THIS is My Philosophy... MY WAY.
And, since LOVE is even GREATER...
Miracle becomes Breath; THIS IS MY WAY.
* * * *
Notice... NO SEX!!!!!!!!!!!
Not according to Locals; my Way can only Apply between Males with my extreme sense of Honor and Loyalty and that Dead Thing called a Romantic. Impossible for the Angry Black Man... with a decidedly Goth-based Street Style; that would Imply there was a Human Soul within that Humanoid Frame.
Two Pings; the GM is on a separate Monitor Routine; one doesn't like me because I'm so damned cold and distant. She's so damned cute it's probably on the Fed's List to Make Illegal; Local Rule States I should Be Friends with her...; the instant the Panty Rule flies in my Face I get even more cold... below sub-zero and dropping like mad. She has yet to Master her Professional Mask; every now and again I see Social Cracks... and watch her adjust the thing, always with sad frustration simmering behind those dazzling eyes.
The other is pure Gossip Hungry Slitch and it takes several deep breaths before I choke down a very rancid Feeling crawling up my spine, spreading over my flesh only to leech into the atmosphere. But don't conjure up Images of some snickering twit...; there is a deep Sense of LONGING for Attention in her gaze, so much so that I'd actually fancy there being some slight Resentment in her gaze... along with a smattering of Why-not-me?
I'd lay solid Creds they both would kill to have a dinner date... wine... the Whole Nine yards... without worrying about Sex popping up. Doesn't hurt that every scumball Local eyes them both like slabs of beef; I smile at that memory... the clubs that no longer exist here were often called Meat Markets. Now... it's Da Club... and the Name still sticks like natural B.O.
* * * *
I take time to pick though a fat bundle, making sure there are no shell casings in the green-with-red-hairs. Already Thrice-Baked, the rest is for fat-cells to store up and release during the Rush on the Line. Regular Potwash will be there... bringing another set of issues and irksome annoying tendencies; before I star Work I'll Make the Rounds, smiling at those I can naturally... and those I Remember to make the Attempt reach my Eyes.
I take a massive green hit, worrying about that Dark Thing suiting up for another ballet with calm... joy?!?! My back tenses; I change Playlists: hip-Hop to Hardcore/Terrorcore; it doesn't help the increasing Tension pulling at my shoulder blades... but that Dark Thing does enjoy the hideous distortion.
It wants Chaos... and there is plenty at Work; I prefer Calm... Zero-Bubble.
Together... we will get what we NEED...
It's the whole WANT thing that causes conflict... makes things Complicated; want a Friendly Hug from the Soul... get bullshit Gossip about affairs and illicit meetings tucked away in one of the many No-Tell Motels in Necropolis... to the point where they wanna know which room in which seedy dive because they have Memories to share about Room 3.
Just another Day in Paradise...
fin