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Post by thegerman on Sept 26, 2011 1:09:22 GMT -5
It was cool and rainy outside – like it had been most of the week. The skies had started to weep the same day he’d gone in for his third chemo and radiation treatment this past Wednesday. He’d had to call a taxi to get back to his apartment because he’d walked to Seattle Cancer Care Alliance before it had started to rain. It was only an eighth of a mile from where he lived on foot and that was roughly a fifteen to twenty minute walk depending on the weather and traffic. If it was cooler it usually took him less time because he walked faster and if warmer he was there in about twenty minutes because the heat, while he liked it, made him feel sicker than what was his norm. He hated cab rides though – this one had been particularly dirty and the cabbie must have smoked on his breaks. The interior of the leather car smelled heavily of smoke. As soon as he’d gotten home he stripped off what he was wearing and had taken a shower. Public transportation was his nightmare made real. He couldn’t wait to get his car finished. It was still sitting at Budd and Company’s complete automotive repair and would be there for another three months. Then he’d get to roll the car out for the first time and drive it down the Seattle streets. He just hoped he lasted that long. Chemo and radiation were starting to take their toll on him. Poison coursed through his veins killing him – even now where he stood while looking at books for the sake of a distraction. It was stripping him down to nothing more than flesh and personality – but even those two things where dwindling. He spoke only to his students and very little at that – just enough to instruct them and no more. His doctor he nearly refused to talk to. The only exception to his ‘silent treatment’ was the man that was treating him for his cancer, Doctor Ellenbogen. However, around the German physician that came in every other week – he only showed him his logs and the empty IV bags. The doctor would silently replace them and leave. Everest made sure he kept up with his hyper-IgM syndrome even when he wanted nothing more than to greet the beast that guarded the entrance underworld and be granted passage to visit his father – indefinitely. If he stopped his care for H.I.M then he knew he’d be sick within a month and dead in less than two. All it would take would be getting pneumonia and for him that would be easy.
That was why he wore a mask nearly all the time while out in public and more so with chemo treatments. He had next to no immune system but it didn’t necessarily stop him from going out and today was no exception. He’d been stuck in his apartment building since the start of his therapy and save for when he walked to the clinic. He wanted new books and maybe even some more sheet music if this place has it. It was a little under a mile from his home and he’d walked here in about twenty minutes with the rain coming down. His shoes and the bottom of his pant legs were soaked and he hoped they’d dry soon. With the warmth in the building, however, he felt that he’d be at least only damp when he headed out again. He would walk back home because he was not about to take another cab. He shivered at the thought.
“Mommy?” Everest heard a child beside him whisper to her mother that was standing beside him in the health section. “Why is that man wearing that doctors mask on his face?” she asked and Everest looked down to her with his sharp blue eyes. She backed away even though his gaze was not a mean one – simply one of acknowledgement. Her mother was quick to reprimand the child with a stern look and firm shake of a finger. The German glanced at the woman and they exchanged a brief look before she apologized. “I’m sorry sir,” she said and glanced at the book he had been reading The Chemotherapy Survival Guide: Everything You Need to Know to Get Through Treatment. “I… I’m so very sorry,” she said again and before she could turn and leave – he had. He didn’t want people pity for him and he wasn’t about to stay around for whatever words she might have offered because he’d seen her glance at the book he’d had his nose in. People got cancer every day but some just not quite like him. His disorder complicated things – the understatement of the year. He decided that now was as good a time as any for some form of drink. Hot preferably and so he headed, book in hand, toward the café.
The woman at the café gave him an odd look as he walked up and he pulled down his mask to speak to her. “Earl Grey tea,” he said but out of habit he’d asked for it like he was back home in Germany and to an English speaker his words were likely uncompromisable. Her look became even more confused and he shook his head. “Sorry, Earl Grey tea please,” he said and she nodded and began to work on his order. “If you would please add some milk but put it on the bottom first,” he said. “Will do!” she chimed back at him apparently happy to be working again for today seemed to be a fairly slow day. Everest assumed the rain might have driven them away. He certainly didn’t mind – it meant that he could read in peace for a spell. With a sigh he pulled his mask back up over his face and reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet and plucked out a five-dollar bill to pay with. As he did he caught sight of a picture of his friend Fiona and snapped the billfold shut and quickly stuffed it back into his back pocket. He couldn’t think about that right now. It upset him too much. “Sir,” the girl called, “your drink,” she said and pushed it forward on the counter. Everest noticed as she looked to the beanie he was wearing down over his eyebrows. He’d gotten clever with his wardrobe. If he wore his caps down low over his forehead no one would ever notice that he no longer had any eyebrows. It wasn’t uncommon for people to wear hats that far down anyway so it didn’t look too odd. However, this woman named Amy was studying him and he didn’t particularly like it. Her eyes fell on the two ribbons he had pinned to his hat. He had a pink one for the current month of October, which was breast cancer awareness month, and a grey one. That one was for brain cancer awareness. She seemed to be connecting the dots and he wished she’d just hurry and ring up his order. “So you support breast cancer and juvenile diabetes awareness?” she finally said and Everest felt relief flood his body. She’d picked the grey ribbon out for its better-known representation. “Yes, something like that,” he said as she rung up his bill for the tea. “Three dollars and nickel,” she said and Everest handed her the five he had in his hand before he fished out a nickel in his pant pocket so he could get exact change back. She handed him back two crisp dollars and he stuffed one in the tip box because he was glad she hadn’t guessed his ailment.
Everest knew he’d gotten by quick with the café clerk and she still eyed him somewhat suspiciously as he moved deeper into the book store. He found a small nook near the classical fiction section and stood facing the shelves with his book on chemotherapy tucked under his arm with it front cover facing his body. That way if curious on lookers saw it they might be hard pressed to read what the book was about before he caught them ogling. Picking up The Prisoner of Zenda he pulled back his mask again and opened the book and started to read a few pages to see if it was something he’d want to purchase. He pulled back his sleeves some on his jacket he reached forward and grabbed his hot tea he’d sat down on the bookshelf in front of him. The grey rubber “Cancer Sucks” and “No One Fights Alone” wristbands pulled against his skin a little and he adjusted them without thinking. He’d worn them since his first chemo and radiation sessions. One of the nurses had given him the “No One Fights Alone” band and a child, roughly ten years old he’d met there, had given him the “Cancer Sucks” band. Both were grey because the nurse had seen his papers and the child was in the same boat as him. He had offered it at seeing just how sick Everest had looked while waiting to do his first radiation session after his first round of chemo.
The German shook his head a little and sat down his tea having decided it was still too hot. He adjusted his cap in time to hear it thunder and the steady rain beat a little harder on the roof over his head. Nausea washed over him for a moment and he moved to sit down on the floor with his book and tea. He looked to a wall clock and saw that it read ten thirty a.m. and he knew it would be a long Saturday. Everest hoped it would be and this uncomfortable feeling would pass and his long Saturday would be a good one.
[words] 1642 [notes] I think he pulled me out of my muse rut... which is awesome. [tages] Leni Rosalind Weiß
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Post by LENI ROSALIND WEIß on Sept 28, 2011 3:12:19 GMT -5
Despite the fact that she didn’t care much for direct sunlight, Leni Weiß also wasn’t a fan of rainy days, mostly because she couldn’t take Hamlet for long walks when it drizzled like this. It interrupted the Saturday routine she loved so much, which doubtlessly would put her out of sorts for the remainder of the day. However, she had some errands to run without her beloved pooch by her side. Regardless of how hopeful and pathetic the Great Dane looked as he stood at the door, wagging his tail hopefully at her, she shook her head, and then knelt to take his huge head in her hands, murmuring a few apologetic words to him in German. She hated the idea of leaving him, especially when he whined at her and placed his massive paw upon her arm. Remaining strong, Leni kissed her only companion on the nose and stood, gathering her purse and umbrella (she didn’t care what Pacific Northwesterners said about carrying umbrellas), and stepping out the door without another word.
She locked it meticulously, double-checking when she was done, before heading east down Holgate Street to California Avenue, the closest bus stop to downtown. She owned a car, a small one, but she barely drove it because she enjoyed walking and utilizing public transportation, even though the latter many times put her in situations she didn’t particularly appreciate. Considering the rain, she knew the bus would probably be fuller than she was usually comfortable with, but seeing as she had no alternative other than attempting to park somewhere in the city, she decided she preferred chancing it and stood at the stop, holding her black umbrella over her head and peering down the road the way of oncoming traffic.
It took about five minutes before she finally saw the bus lumbering down the road toward her. The brakes gasped as it halted to pick her up, at which point she collapsed her umbrella and hunched her shoulders as she hurried into the relative warmth and shelter of the vehicle. As expected, more of the seats were taken than usual, but her spirits lifted when she spotted an empty one near the back. With as long of steps as she could manage, she reached it in no time, sliding in as close as she could to the window and placing her purse on the other half of the seat. Shamelessly, yes, she was that person who took up what could technically be two seats with her handbag, but having people sit that close to her usually made her inordinately uncomfortable so she did everything in her power to effectively avoid such situations.
Fortunately, nobody asked to occupy the space, even though a few people stood, holding onto the rubber loops that hung from the railings above her head. Leni leaned her temple against the windowpane, glancing out at the drizzle beyond the bus. People hurried to and from wherever they were headed, most sporting coats with hoods and only a few carrying umbrellas like her own. Stop after stop moved past and she remained motionless through most of them, ruminating over the coming week. Now that the semester had started in earnest, the lesson plans were quickly becoming more complicated and Leni grew more tired by the week. She loved her job, yes; teaching American children her native language proved incredibly rewarding to the young German woman. But some days, she wondered if she was cut out to work as a teacher her entire life. It was something she would have told a friend, if she had any of those. A frown flickered over her face for just a moment. Any time she found someone she thought might become a good confidante, she always turned out being, well, wrong. It was unfortunate, to say the least.
The bus rolled up to her stop not long after they reached downtown. As quickly as she could manage, Leni scurried into the nearest coffee shop, the one attached to one of the doubtlessly cuter bookstores in Seattle. She often came here, because she found it more quiet and relaxing than the Barnes and Nobles of the area. Its interesting layout made her feel oddly at home, even though she enjoyed order in her own house. She stepped to the counter, flinching when she heard a clap of thunder outside. Suddenly, she was even more grateful that she’d found shelter immediately after stepping off the buss. Even looking at the rain, which was pouring from the sky in torrents, made her shiver.
“A white orchid tea, please,” she requested quietly. The clerk squinted at her for a moment, struggling to make out what she’d said through Leni’s thick accent, but figured it out without asking and got straight to work, after taking the German professor’s money. As usual, Leni left a tip and waited awkwardly off to the side for her drink, shifting her weight from side to side and glancing nervously around the café. As she always did when she ventured into public places, she wondered if she’d ever feel comfortable when around other people. It seemed unlikely, really, but in her heart of hearts, she hoped for it one of these days. She murmured a thank you when the clerk handed her the drink, setting off immediately for the bookstore. If she was going to be trapped here until the rain began to subside, she might as well find something to read in the meantime.
The shelves of books around her made Leni feel cozier, at least. With this many places for people to disappear into, she didn’t often feel like an entire room of patrons was staring at her, which was commonly how she felt in open spaces occupied by others. At first, she wandered, gazing up at everything with interest, until she found herself surrounded by the thick volumes of classical fiction. One finger traced some of the spines, until she stopped in the S authors, finally extracting Rob Roy by Sir Walter Scott. Leni turned the book over in her hands, flipped through it once to inhale the scent of a book’s musty pages. She’d sit down with this one a while, she decided, and walked toward her left, to where the opposite wall stood. When she turned again to her right, she nearly (literally) ran into something – or someone – she didn’t quite expect.
A small yelp escaped Leni when she realized that somebody was actually sitting on the floor straight in her path. The only way she managed to avoid him was to swerve, smacking her shoulder directly into the bookshelf next to her. Her tea was jostled enough to spill from the small hole in the lid onto her hand. The pain was met only with a hiss and a grunt, and she took a deep breath, shuffling her book beneath her arm and transferring the tea so she could wipe her scalded hand on her shirt.
“I am so sorry,” she mumbled before looking at him, her Bavarian accent as thick as it always was when she was nervous or flustered. “I did not see you around the corner. I apologize.” Her gaze lifted, eyes finally meeting his face. At first, Leni felt an inner panic at the sight of his mask, though her eyes only slightly widened to show it. However, something else about him soon distracted her, and she found herself peering curiously into his gaze. “You are very familiar to me,” she blurted, rather stunned that she would recognize anybody who didn’t work at or attend the school – and he certainly did neither, at least not now. The eyes sparked a memory inside of her, one that surfaced after only a few moments, and she barely fought the urge to gasp out loud at the realization. They’d gone to school together. They’d gone to Thaedeus together. How she didn’t make that connection the moment she laid eyes on him, she didn’t know. “Everest?” she said, stunned. Trust a shocked Leni to open dialogue intelligently.
[words] 1343 [notes] I really hope this works for you! Gotta get back into RPing Leni; it's been a while. They're going to be such a good pair to RP, though. <3 [tages] Auberon Everest von Adelberg
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Post by thegerman on Sept 29, 2011 0:07:20 GMT -5
He fought his spell of nausea as he sat on the cool floor of the bookstore. Here he was away from the prying eyes of children and adults alike but where he sat lacked any form of waste receptacle should he really need it. Everest hated the way he felt and it wasn’t getting much better. The mask he had pulled up wasn’t helping things and he closed the book in his hand and reached up to pull down the suffocating piece of his wardrobe. He inhaled deeply through his mouth and leaned his head back to look at the ceiling. After several deep breaths he felt only fractionally better. Sitting down his books he picked up his tea again and took off the cap to sip at it a little more carefully. After the first sip he found, to his relief, it wasn’t as hot as the cup had portrayed and he drank a little deeper from it. The beverage was soothing to this throat and stomach and he sighed in thankfulness for this. Thunder clapped overhead once more and he looked up to the roof as if it would help him to hear better. He liked the thunder and the rain and always would no matter how dreary it was around the Pacific Northwest. A small smile crossed his lips and he exhaled heavily and looked down into the milky tea he had in his hand. It had quailed his rolling stomach for the time being but he knew that the sick feeling would be back and he dreaded it. What weighed upon him even heavier than the thought of it reoccurring was the fact that it would be far worse in weeks to come. Monday he started a much more aggressive form of chemotherapy. Everyday he’d be walking to Seattle Cancer Care Alliance and back for the next month with radiation once a week.
A groan passed his lips as he looked down to the chemo survival guide he’d picked up. “Veir Wochen…” he said to himself. He’d have four weeks of hell before he’d be given lighter doses and that was only if he showed improvement. This was his last ‘free’ weekend. Everest was scared to death of everything that was happening. Cancer, even just the thought, was a nightmare and now it had come true. His greatest fear had not only manifested itself in the flesh but also in one of the more serious places. His brain. The worst part of it all was the fact that he was alone in this. Despite what his bracelet said he was by himself in this fight. The only friend he’d ever kept some form of remote contact with he’d struck. She wasn’t talking to him and he wasn’t speaking to her because he didn’t have the nerve to call her up. He hated himself for it. He still needed to tell her why he’d hit her in the first place and why it wasn’t truly he fault even though it felt like it. Everest didn’t like the idea of telling her that he had cancer – stage two that borderline stage three. The kind that had a knack for spreading if it wasn’t brought under control quickly.
Another wave of nausea hit him and he knew it was from fright rather than the chemo that was flowing through his veins. He shifted his weight and moved to the side somewhat and pulled his mask back up over his face and exhaled. His legs had almost fallen asleep and he needed to move. However, he only got so far as to adjust his jacket when someone nearly tripped over him. It was a blur for a moment as he reacted to her coming upon him so suddenly. His motion caused him to spill a good amount of his un-capped tea on his pants. He hissed at the pain from the hot liquid as it hit his skin through his blue jeans. What words he might have said to the woman who came on him abruptly were cut short at the sound of her voice. Her thick accent was familiar to his ears if only because he knew the German lilt. Something he had it too if he wasn’t careful about how he spoke. Everest cast his blue eyes up to gaze at her as he stood up but stopped halfway through at realizing whom she was. His heart rate spiked and his could hear his pulse in his ears and he was nervous in an instant. Surly she was no ghost. What were the odds of her being back in Seattle? When she paused to look at him better he rose to his full height – forgetting his exposed bracelets and books on the floor. He did, however, pull his cap down a little to make sure his brow-less forehead was not visible to her. “Ja?” he asked her at the inquiry of his name. ‘Real bright,’ he thought to himself and pulled down his mask again for suddenly he couldn’t breathe with it on. When she spoke his name he knew, without a doubt, this was Leni Rosalind Weiß. It had been several years since he’d last seen her or spoken to her. Last he knew of her she was in Germany – back home. Everest floundered for a moment on what to say to her. She’d been his Thaedeus school crush and, apparently, she was still his crush. His heart was pounding away like a drum in his chest just looking at her and for a while he stared at her with wide-eyes that clearly read that he was surprised to see her. More specifically – back in the States. Everest found he was pleased though – to see her.
After a few moments he shook himself from his stupor and fumbled for some sort of coherent sentence. “W-Wie gehts?” he asked her and somehow – even that simple question fell flat on his tongue. He raised a hand to his head and rubbed the top of his beanie and sighed as he looked down to the ground. “Lassen Sie mich noch einmal zu versuchen,” he said as a feint blush colored his otherwise unusually pale features. “Es hat eine Weile her, seit ich dich das letzte Mal sah. Wie bist du gewesen?” he said as he pulled down the arms of his jacket. The sensation of rubber against his fingers as he adjusted the cuffs over his wrists reminded him of the book he’d not covered up on the floor. Horror stuck him and he quickly leaned down and picked up the two books and his tea he had. Stuffing the chemo guide under his arm he hoped she’d hadn’t noticed the titles of the books he’d been reading. Everest wouldn’t be able to lie well to her. She wasn’t blind like Fiona and he didn’t have his wits completely about himself when around her, this German native. He found himself feeling the same way for her today as he did the last time he’d seen her – nearly five years ago. It confused him, these feelings, for he thought they’d fade as he forgot her and her memory ebbed away with passing of years. Yet, here he stood before her – heart pounding like a schoolboy – under her grey-eyed gaze.
[words] 1218 [notes] Wewt! I <3 the awkwardness. Also, here is what he's wearing - outfit - pins on his hat | grey and pink - bands on his wrists | one and two. [tages] Leni Rosalind Weiß
[translations]
Wie gehts? - How are you?
Lassen Sie mich noch einmal zu versuchen. - Let me try again.
Es hat eine Weile her, seit ich dich das letzte Mal sah. Wie bist du gewesen? - It has been a while since I saw you last. How have you been?
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