Re: Tattered and Torn

**Innerlight** · by **Innerlight** on Thu Oct 22, 2009 10:04 am

"Nice boy, though he has a few problems", she says to Harmon in regards to the fat guy. She goes with Harmon off to get food. She doesn't particularly care to ask Harmon about his well being or emotional state seeing he doesn't seem to answer. If he was the type that wanted to bottle it all up should she intervene and attempt to get it out, was it her duty to get it out of him? as a friend? she wasn't sure which way to go on this matter just yet.

**dean** · by **dean** on Thu Oct 22, 2009 2:48 pm

Harmon limps for a stretch of sidewalk, but seems to get over the pain enough to begin walking normally soon enough. In fact, he's almost walking faster than you can keep up with him.

"Nice boy..." Harmon mutters bitterly "Charlatans... all smiles when they're wanting money for some stray they picked up outta the trash. Let me tell you something you can take to the bank; nothing good on this earth comes without some kinda struggle. If it does, then it's poisoned. "

Spoiler:: 2009-10-22 15:40:28 Glen rolls 4 dice to Wits+Empathy 8,9,3,1 (2 successes)

"I remember a diner nearby." Harmon adds bluntly. His voice, while the same rich, pleasant drawl, seems tinged with buried fear.

**Innerlight** · by **Innerlight** on Fri Oct 23, 2009 9:36 am

She nodded at Harmon's comment, but decided that she'd wait for dinner before she'd grill him on what he was hiding. In the handful of minutes she knew him he hadn't answered one question, and she knew that he must have been hiding it. That wasn't healthy behavior. He seemed a little bitter as well, he should find some joy in his life, he'd meet his death with all the built up aggression inside of him.

**dean** · by **dean** on Tue Oct 27, 2009 2:21 pm

You follow Harmon. By the time you reachyour destination, a rundown diner, you feel hungry enough to consider retracing your steps to the dog salesmen and purchasing the animal as food. The diner is cramped and cluttered. The floor is clean enough, but cold coffee and plates of congealed eggs litter the tables and you can smell grease and oil thickly in the air. Only one other customer frequents the place. A bleary eyed man in blue overalls. He sips coffee from a plain styrofome cup, but looks dead to the world, slumped over a table sticky with stains. A young, plump waitress stands behind a counter, reading something. She looks up as the pair of you enter and stuffs her literature back into a white envelope. Nobody says anything, although the waitress raises an eyebrow as she lays eyes on you.

Harmon collapses into a seat near the window, gesturing for the waitress to wait. She doesn't seem particularly put out. The table is one of the cleaner ones. There's a small, laminated menu flecked with crumbs and warped by hot, wayward coffee.

"I don't know what I want to eat." Harmon mutters, clearly stalling for time. He places a thick, threadbare book upon the table.

**Innerlight** · by **Innerlight** on Wed Oct 28, 2009 9:08 am

She looks through the menu realizing the names of the meals but not remembering what she liked or ate. She looks at Harmon's book tilting it her direction for a better view, then clasps both of her hands together and puts them on the table. "You know Harmon I'm glad we have a chance to sit down and talk like this, because frankly I think we need to. For as long as I've known you, you've been hiding things from me, I don't think that's healthy for building a lasting relationship, so you're going to tell me what it is that you're not telling me... I think it will make you feel better, keeping it bottled up can't be healthy", she adds. "So keep talking until you feel better", she demanded politely.

**dean** · by **dean** on Thu Oct 29, 2009 7:48 pm

Harmon glares up from the menu, seemingly resentful over something. The waitress is scowling into a book. She doesn't look up from what appears to be a dated, well-thumbed guide to Budapest, Prague. The man in the overalls sips at his coffee, making it last. You catch him staring at you, wearing a bemused frown. He curses as he spills some coffee onto his paper. Harmon's face softens as he addresses your question.

Spoiler:: 2009-10-29 20:27:02 Waitress rolls 5 dice to Disquiet 3,4,10,8,5, 1 (2 successes)
2009-10-29 20:27:15 Worker rolls 4 dice to Disquiet 2,2,2,4 (0 successes)
2009-10-29 20:27:31 Glen rolls 1 die to Disquiet 7 (0 successes)

"I'm confused." he confesses. "I don't remember much. What I do remember I don't want to. All I know is that I got stuff I can't be remembering, and you got nothing to remember. Hell if I know why. And I'm afraid that if I'm around for this storm it'll bring it all back."

He pushes the thick, crudely bound book towards you.

"I don't want this either. Have it."

**Innerlight** · by **Innerlight** on Fri Oct 30, 2009 9:36 am

The He/she looks to the man dropping his coffee, musing in passing about where Budapest is, but ultimately doesn't give it serious thought. She chooses to believe Harmon, even if he's lying. He's either telling the truth or so unwilling to talk about it he'll risk alienating her, so she would just believe him regardless of what her heart was telling her and stop with the doubt. "What a pair we make my dear Harmon, I want to remember and you want to forget". She takes Harmon's book and looks at it intently.

Spoiler:: ((This is her unofficial song http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rPHlOhMJpf8 I just like this version))

**dean** · by **dean** on Sun Nov 15, 2009 10:55 am

The man in the corner withdraws his gaze from you. Folding up his paper he throws a pinch of salt over his shoulder, leaving his table without tipping. The waitress remains cagy, and seems to have lost her book. Harmon's own book seems to be more like three books laced together into one fabric bound volume. It starts out with a notebook containing two sets of dense handwriting on what appears to be alchemy and philosophy. The second contains printed words behind a. battered incover entitled: 'Treatises and Sermons of Meister Eckhart'. There are 'Yes's' and 'No's' scratched throughout alongside tracts in a heavy pencil. The last is an anecdotal journal in one style of handwriting. Rough pencil sketches of people and more clinical anatomical diagrams are littered within.

Harmon shrugs and hides behind a laminated menu, then watching the early morning traffic through the diner window.

"Nobody ought remember everything. Soul isn't made for that sort of weight. Seems cruel if you ask me."

**Innerlight** · by **Innerlight** on Mon Nov 16, 2009 5:42 pm

"I like the book it seems important, for some reason", she says almost like a musing to herself. The pictures sparked a bit of inspiration in her and she felt her hand moving tracing out the picture as if she had a pen in her hand. "Well the past be damned then, I guess the important question is what are you going to do now. That's the question I've been asking myself", she says to Harmon. She closed the book determined to study it more closely later.