|  Author | Topic: Captured In Stillness (Read 225 times) |
Sachio Kobayashi
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|  | Captured In Stillness
« Thread Started on Nov 9, 2007, 8:37pm » | ![[Quote]](http://s1.images.proboards.com/buttons/quote.gif) |
There was a bustle like no other in this place. Organized, yet still frantic. Sachio had been to many countries with his parents and he had seen a lot, but nothing quite like it. Even the entrance alone was never devoid of action, as people strode in and out all the time, gesturing urgently or simply rushing to get some place. No one seemed to have time to look around at all. Or maybe it was he who had too much of it.
At any rate, he had been toying with the idea of somehow freezing that ensemble of motion for the past couple of days, and his ingenious mind had finally found the solution. It was easy, if one thought of it. So simple, in fact, that he had instinctually omitted to think of it at first.
Take a picture. Of course. After all, he was so attached to his digital camera that he never went anywhere without it.
For the past twenty minutes, Sachio had been shifting about on the sidewalk across the street, moving from one spot to the other and trying to find the best angle to take the picture from. The security guards had given him a few odd looks from their posts at the entry, but since he hadn't come closer, nor had he tried to approach anyone that came out, he was being left alone for the time being. He just smiled blandly their way every time they looked, which they couldn't see from the distance, so he added a polite and reconciliatory nod to it as well, then continued his search.
Having finally found a spot he thought he could experiment with for a start, he stopped and raised his hand to the digital camera hanging from his neck on its plastified string. He removed it over his head, ruffling his own hair in the process and absently pressing the power button with an agile finger, or more likely with the tip of a nail that was a bit too long for a man. One eye was already closed by the time he positioned the camera in front of his face, aiming to take an unusual snapshot of the three-sided ensemble right across the street.
He tried out a first quick picture, then, studying it more carefully, he decided he should aim for a bit more distance. He almost ran into a passer-by going on about his business when he stepped back a couple, and apologized under his breath but continued to concentrate on watching for a better position. Something was missing. That shocking, impressive element. Probably the emotion, the feeling he should be putting into taking that picture. He never had been good with these things.
Sachio barely felt the bite he pressed down to his own lower lip as the thin skin of his forehead creased slightly under the weight of a small frown. His concentration had stretched to the maximum, and the next moment he was stumbling, his heel having found a small protuberance in the asphalt. Only a last moment's effort saved him from a fall backwards, and, having recovered some precarious sense of balance, he just stood there for the next few seconds, a bit dazzled. His thoughts had been somewhere else completely, and now they needed to catch up with what had just occurred.
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Morgan Johnson
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| | Re: Captured In Stillness
« Reply #1 on Nov 15, 2007, 3:08am » | |
With the slightest touch, he was down. Legs sprawled out in front of him as he stared in a daze up at the sky, his buttocks aching from the cold stone beneath him as a bruise was clearly forming. And soon the sky was covered over with a concerned shadow that was blocking the sun, casting darkness over him as his eyes struggled to clear themselves of the shifting dots that clouded his vision. How embarrassing. But, he contemplated, he was the only person at fault in this dilemma. He had decided to wear the heels, so he paid the price. Not as much as his backside would in the next few hours as the blood left a purplish-blue mark under his skin.
Taking the hand of the stranger, Morgan felt himself pulled upright by the strength of whoever this person was. A slight blush crossed his face while he straightened and brushed the tiny bit of dirt from his skirt. Crouching, he scooped up the purse, ready to walk away as quickly as possible. And with a murmured “thank you” accompanied by a small nod, he made his escape, wanting nothing more than to die from humiliation. Like that would ever happen. But he’d make sure to be prepared if it did.
Morgan had left the safely of his apartment for some reason, unknown even to himself. Perhaps it was the desire of a long walk, or the need of fresh air. It wouldn’t explain why he had decided to dress up in skirt. Oh yeah: there was no motive for that either. The clothes were lying there, so why not wear them? But whatever. He wasn’t out to impress anyone. Which might have caused him to not notice just how shabby he looked in the worn down and faded outfit he had donned that day. His hair that normally fell in sunlit ringlets was stringy, oily, in need of a dye job that he hadn’t gotten around to. Energetic eyes were dulled from weariness and pain. But even worse...
He hadn’t put on any make-up. Most of his supply was old, crusty or extra powdery now from age. Not that it wouldn’t have improved his appearance any. He was aware of that. It was the thought that counted.
Casting his gaze around the place, a feeling of overwhelming stress began flowing through his bloodstream, the noises of the hustle and bustle distracting him as he tried taking in the sights that he had seen so many times before. Distraction wasn’t a good thing. It was a concept that wasn’t hard to remember, but concentration was lacking today. Definitely not a good thing. The realization that it would be best to get off the streets struck him hard, as he was awash in self-pity over this turn of events.
But that was the way it should be. So crossing his arms over his rounded chest, he pursed his lips before thrusting them out in an obvious pout, turning quickly on heel to return home. Quick enough that he was just in time to see someone regain their balance from what (he looked quickly at the area around the person’s feet) appeared to be a distension in the concrete. NO! He looked away quickly, unwilling to concentrate on that person any longer than possible.
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Sachio Kobayashi
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| | Re: Captured In Stillness
« Reply #2 on Nov 15, 2007, 2:02pm » | |
A thing that never sleeps in a photographer is his attention, it is said. Not his regular attention, really, since they tend to be quite absent-minded in character, but that type that's always ready to catch even the smallest trace of motion, of interesting, of detail. All this was definitely true for Sachio, he had tested as much over and over. So it came as no surprise to him when, even in his momentary confusion, he was distracted from the building. It would be there a few minutes later, unless a sudden calamity decided to take place and raze it, but the person he had caught a glimpse of wouldn't. He... she? ... he... seemed to be in a hurry to get away.
At any rate, it was one of those things he couldn't allow to get away, since he had never seen anything quite like it before. He'd have called the person a transvestite, but he/she definitely looked a lot... more refined than that, the way only nature could make the difference over no matter how many human-applied changes. Still, even despite that, one couldn't really tell where the limit between a very manly woman and a man wearing women's clothing was situated. Which only made the person yet more intriguing.
In Sachio's mind, interest brushed everything else aside. When he turned the stranger's way, abandoning his first objective, there was little room left in his head for common sense, ethics, human rights and decency. All he cared for is that he was being offered something which usually had a snowball's chance in hell to happen. He'd be an idiot if he didn't act quickly and seize his chance.
His blood rushed with pleasure, as his heartbeats and time itself seemed to be doing the opposite, slowing, dilating. Excitement-driven fingers contrasted with the calm precision with which they danced along the camera's edges, re-positioning it, turning the picture's frame a little sideways, so that the vertical axis of his chosen image would cross the corners. One of his pointers found the snapshot button, caressed it thoughtfully for a second, as he instinctually considered the last careful details of the soon-to-be photo. A press, the flash, the familiar noises... and there it was.
He accessed the gallery feature by reflex, to look at his newly acquired image. Perfect... almost. He had caught the motion on the sidewalk, the traffic beyond as cars ran along the street, and the person of his interest in the middle, an integrant part. The only fault was he hadn't been quick enough and by the time the image was frozen through technology, his character wasn't looking at him anymore. But he hadn't had the time to turn away and start leaving yet, which made things fantastic.
To himself, Sachio smiled with the satisfaction of novelty.
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Morgan Johnson
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| | Re: Captured In Stillness
« Reply #3 on Nov 16, 2007, 1:28am » | |
There it was. Panic and chaos illuminated in his mind as his eyes darted every which way, his thoughts frozen in that time and place. But everything around him seemed to increase in speed, actions and sound blurring together until all that was left was the unremitting resonance of vehicles passing by. A roaring hum which filled his head, pounding at his temples until a familiar word broke through, and he whipped around to see where it came from. His eyes were widened with confusion, paranoia, and the gust from traffic caught his hair, letting the curls linger in flight longer than usual before coming to rest around his chin.
A woman, her hand raised to the side of her face as she held a gadget to her ear, talking into it with a raised voice. The words “flowers” and “dresses” drifted across the breeze from her conversation, the image of a wedding immediately forming in his mind. Swinging his head slowly to the other side, the man walking by was jotting a reminder down on a planner, the scratching noise scraped against his eardrums, exploding in his hearing canal while the image of white was replaced by artists at work. All places he looked, someone or something was there. Every escape was blocked, it seemed. Frightening. No place to go. Nowhere to hide.
The world was spinning as he continued his intricate dance, the steps of which remained light but anxious while he tried to keep up with the people surrounding him until he a low cry emerged from the back of his throat, clutching his head, as thought a throbbing pain had overtaken him, until it all subsided, the view returning to normal. But he continued to tremble, shifting weight with closed eyes until his breathing was no longer heavy, the scene of the day continuing on course as he went (hopefully) unnoticed by the crowd.
What had it been that had thrown him off into such a daze? Where did that loss of control come from? Whatever it was, Morgan could still feel it lingering, a gentle presence tugging at the back of his consciousness. It had to have been someone’s words or actions that, though he hadn’t seen or heard, but felt them and they flung him over the edge close to uncontrollability. A dangerous step that would be. Well…more annoying that dangerous, but he’d hate to go unconscious in the middle of the street.
So regaining his emotions, he stood straighter, flicking his hair as he began walking briskly towards the direction of his lowly room. There was no indication in his manner that anything disturbing had just gone through his head as his hips unconsciously though not mechanically swayed with each step he took. Somehow this stance made him feel more sure of himself, as though he were ruler of the entire world. Little potion of the sidewalk he was currently standing on was more realistic, but Morgan was always one to dream. And how many people haven’t imagined world domination?
Very few, was his guess.
But he was content with his little area of cement. A small smile escaped his notice at the thought, brightening his face and accompanied by a medium-pitched giggle. Yes. Today the sidewalk…tomorrow Radford. But only for as long as he was interested in it. And he didn’t even know how long that would be. But he shrugged a little, brushing aside his little contemplations. Nearly too late, however, as he just passed the person he had picked from to crowd earlier. It wasn’t him who caught Morgan’s eye this time, but the piece of equipment that he held in his hands which could, at first glace, be identified as a camera.
“Beautiful,” Morgan murmured, completely having stored away the past minute or so of disorderliness in his head, hopefully never to be thought of again.
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Sachio Kobayashi
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| | Re: Captured In Stillness
« Reply #4 on Feb 6, 2008, 1:07am » | |
Beautiful…?
That single word had the effect of slowing time down for Sachio, in immediate perception at least. He watched the person he had been interested enough in to drop all principles, all inhibitions, all psychological mechanisms, and to attempt to take an unauthorized, maybe unwanted picture of, drift by him and utter that single word. His eyes fixated themselves on the small movements of the lips even as the act of speech, brief as that, was being committed. He didn’t know what the comment referred to; obviously not himself, in his view. No one went around passing by strangers and calling them that without an explanation, or without the daring tone of mindless time-wasters.
Nothing in here is beautiful… but you.
This person… impossible to class as ‘he’, as ‘she’… was so very much the opposite of pretty, of elegant, of physically appealing. So very much indeed, that somehow they had ended up more interesting than any standards of what one could imagine. No physical attraction was the reason for why he slowed his breath to a minimum, but the mere desire to keep the moment, to make it immortal in one’s memory at least, since it had transcended past where a photograph would suffice. It was not something you saw every day. It was what other people scowled or raised amused eyebrows at, the kind of person that people pitied and ostracized at the same time, simply for being different. And also, the type that drew him into contemplation, that acted as a stimulus to his imagination.
Such an illusion.
He could not let them go now.
From the lips, Sachio’s eyes drifted lower, searching frantically for some way to cling to this person, while his mind was just as desperate to discover some pretext that could be offered in favor of stalling them. It was just… every fiber of his subconscious screaming at him to not let this element of uniqueness slip away from his grasp, if it had gotten so close. Unthinkingly almost, he sent out his free hand and intercepted the person’s own, grabbing their wrist… seemingly around just as fragile and thin as his own. He wasn’t abrupt and violent in any way when he detained the one he was so interested in, but he was sudden and possessed of the clear intention of stopping them. His hold was no more and no less than what was needed to convey that idea wordlessly: stay, or wait at least and hear me out.
Now, of course, he would be expected to say something. Except the young man’s brain was pretty much frozen, still sunk below the frivolous enthusiasm of how interested he had become in only a few moments, of how many questions that weren’t even formed yet he would have to ask the one he was stopping. His lips parted slightly, but nothing came out aside from a small sudden sound that would hardly mean anything to anyone, and then he cleared his throat as some measure of common sense flooded back into him. He felt the familiar slightly burning sensation of a somewhat embarrassing thing flood up the nape of his neck and into his cheeks, but he doubted any color overtook his features. He’d never been impressionable to the point where he’d show it on the outside.
It was clearly time to say something just as stupid and desperate as the thing he had just done.
“Go on a date with me,” he just randomly asked the first thing that came to his mind. “Today… Now.”
He was pretty amazed that he had gone that far himself. It was not that he actually had any romantic interest here… at least as far as he could tell. Come to think better of it, he didn’t even have an idea of what to actually define as ‘romantic interest’. He had always had a problem growing attached to people; the only things that caught his interest in the want-to-see-you-again fashion had been places. Until this person. Or not quite. It wasn’t the same thing here, more of a don’t-want-to-lose-you-from-sight-just-yet. So he tried to calm himself down interiorly and dismiss the stupidity of what he had just asked. He’d probably shocked the poor person enough that they’d be so confused as to actually accept. In fact, he hoped it had been that.
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Morgan Johnson
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| | Re: Captured In Stillness
« Reply #5 on Jul 3, 2008, 6:08pm » | |
It returned. A throbbing of blood that his brain swam in, clouding over his vision in a horribly blurry veil of what felt like a drunken state of confusion. There was a wonderful drink that caused a person to feel exactly like that, but Morgan couldn’t but his finger on the name. It must not have tasted very good after all. Either that or the hangover was hell and he erased the flavor and title of it completely from his memory bank. But this headache wasn’t the effect of a long night drinking, though he honestly wished it were. Those went away after awhile. But these…these lasted forever. No escaping the painful concentration he maintained throughout the day in order to prevent his useless ability from leaking through onto some poor unexpecting soul. Though they weren’t always formed in such intensity.
And because of this, the only true sanctuary from this frightening world was his trashed up apartment. By living alone he needed not fear inflicting harm upon a roommate, and he really only ventured out to go to work and buy groceries. It was a rather dismal life. But nothing ever happened, which he was thankful for. He was content living in such a way, day to day in the monotony of the spinning Earth, where he avoided human contact as much as possible for his own protection, and had no idea what was allowing a rat like him to continue living.
Of course, venturing out into the world was something unplanned. And he definitely had not expected something to happen to him on that ordinary day of worthlessness. So it was, in fact, quite shocking to him that someone would stop him, reach out and take hold of his wrist in their own soft hand. But the action caused him to freeze him his steps, turning his head confusedly in a single fluid motion. Every nerve in his body screamed to run, was jumping with anticipation, but he couldn’t bring himself to move. Tear himself away. And it took a moment for the face to register in his memory as the person from earlier. The boy with the camera. Or man. Though the first glance triggered the idea that this person was not a full-fledged adult; Morgan had never been good with ages in the first place, but he always tried guessing anyways.
When the shock of being detained had settled a bit, instinct took over and he abruptly freed his hand from the grasp of this stranger. It was an odd position, the arm becoming near parallel to his torso as the wrist twisted and his knuckles grazed his shoulder, the fingertips pointing towards the heavens. But when it sent a dull pain through his elbow, it straightened and he cupped his cheek, the opposite hand reaching up to tug at flimsy ringlet. Twirl it around his index finger as he took a couple defensive steps backwards, eyeing the person carefully.
And yet he could not leave. Curiosity (or paranoia, take your pick) held him rooted in place to the spot in which he stood. Staring. Just staring. Possible scenarios as to why this person had grabbed his attention flew through his mind. He wasn’t in debt. He couldn’t remember stealing anyone’s girlfriend (not surprisingly). The only reasonable solution was that this person was lost and trying to get directions.
So it was very much of a shock when he finally spoke, asking for a date. No. More like demanding. And how does one respond to such an out of the blue request?
Lie. Make excuses. There were plenty. I can’t…
My dog is sick, I need to take him to the vet.
I’m on my way to my sister’s wedding.
I have to baby sit my niece.
My father died, I’m on the way to his funeral.
Oh yes. Those will definitely work. Or they might have, had not Morgan in his flustered state combined all of them into a panicking jumbled mess of, “I can’t. My dead sister’s dog is marrying my niece at my father’s funeral that I’m babysitting……That was not what I wanted to say.”
Yes, Morgan, that was very ridiculous.
Sighing and pressing both hands to his face, he lowered himself to a squatting position, trying to cover the color that had crept into his cheeks. How awkward. How embarrassing. Nothing would have been better than to be swallowed up by the concrete he had been trying to take over only moments earlier. Buried alive. A frightful thought, really, but much better than to suffer through the humiliation that was bound to come.
But to the invitation, someone with his voice answered, “Yes.”
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Sachio Kobayashi
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| | Re: Captured In Stillness
« Reply #6 on Oct 10, 2008, 8:01pm » | |
Giving such an answer… Was this person messing with him on purpose? Even though only for a small moment, Sachio had to wonder about that when the words he was hearing hit him with their meaning. He had been focused on this stranger's actions at first, nearly mesmerized, for some reason, by that finger that toyed with the blond locks, right in front of him, so close that he could reach out and do the same if he had wished to. But that was not what he wanted. Contact wasn't the essential piece of this game, but only necessary to further the plot along. He just cared for keeping this person close until his interest would leave him, until he considered that he had studied him or her enough, or simply up to when something even more striking, more intriguing would come along. Therefore, it shouldn't matter that the first reply had been that kind of a rude attempt at refusing. It shouldn't even matter if the person wasn't smart enough to express coherent ideas at that point, although the situation was pretty simple. Even so, Sachio had to admit that the follow-through had been pretty quick once the blunder had ended.
On the other hand, he had never understood the need of people, that impulse that made them try to lie and complicate things instead of just speaking their minds when nothing important was really at stake. If it had been him in this one's place, and he had been adverse to the proposition, Sachio would have just replied with a normal I don't want to. And that would be it. Offense? Perhaps, but it wasn't his fault if people couldn't understand that refusal existed in the world, and could actually happen. Others said they felt hurt in such instances, but he had always thought that to be very dramatic. Being turned down was a normal part of life, and Sachio surely wouldn't have felt devastated, or even sad if he had been told a simple no then and there; his only regret would have been not getting his way. And since in the end he had obtained a yes, as he had hoped, he could indeed not care any less about whether the person felt cornered into going with him or not. They'd get over it.
"Come on, then. I know a coffee shop nearby," he offered. "It's small and quiet."
Without much consideration, but not violently or even abruptly either, Sachio reached out once more for the same hand that had been withdrawn from him just moments earlier. He tried to smile towards the person, although he was sure not to have done that the correct way. That way which people would call 'sincere'. Honestly, he had no idea what they meant by that. Smiling was something everyone out there did plenty of times even when not actually feeling like it. His faded quickly, with him not feeling the need to prolong such an act. When his hand reached its target, he didn't clasp the wrist this time, however, but much rather sought the palm, tracing it with his fingers until he could hold hands with the person, distracting him from his own hair, and start his attempt at pulling him away. Sachio supposed, after all, that 'he' was more accurate, or hit the mark more closely. Or perhaps there simply was something appealing about the fact that the clothes wanted to say otherwise, and his categorization defied that. Either way, he began to lead what he had decided to think of as a cross-dressing male for now further along the sidewalk, firmly enough to imply that he'd like to be followed, but also leaving room for opposition should there be any.
The coffee shop the young man had in mind was a pretty familiar place to him, since this wasn't the first time he had wandered in the area to take his numerous pictures. Far from it, actually. Some of the staff would even recognize him as a regular, although they were certain to find it odd that he would come in such company today. As odd as, perhaps, they were thought of by these people just passing by and gifting them with sideway glances right at that very moment. Or maybe Sachio was just imagining it in most cases, although definitely some of the faces his gaze encountered did show curiosity, to say the least. Either way, he was not the target, he was sure, or he was only second on their list, in the worst case; and even if he had been the center of attention, really, he wouldn't have cared much. Sachio thought quite well of himself. However, something else stopped him and caused him to let go of the hand he had just grabbed moments ago. He turned back around to face the person he had become interested in, once more.
"What's your name?" he asked, in his somewhat accented English. "I'm Sachio."
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