Rawdog it? What the fuck?

Summer 2021, Week 5

Thursday evening

Priory Park, Downtown

Zara Babette Suha

Zara had been in New Victoria for maybe six or seven months, two of which she spent working two different clerical jobs at two different Safeways just to afford rent. Every Thursday her graveyard shift walk back home passed through Priory Park on the way back towards her significantly-less-affluent "high grade townhouse," which was actually a run-down condo she shared with the building boiler. After scraping by on donated deli meat and Tyler's sixth birthday cake they found in the back (Tyler was likely seven now) Zara would sit on a bench and glower at the high-rises. Because she was eating sponge cake that tasted like tube socks and they were popping caviar like candy and devouring luxuries like REAL Kraft mac and cheese.   Now her side hustles were a little more established, Zara said a fat 'peace out' to Safeway City Center, (which had been "servicing" New Victoria since 2007, they'd like to remind) and she hadn't sat down in Priory Park in awhile. The fact of the matter was she rather liked the park, but rather hated Safeway. Now that she was running with the big dogs and was eating an actual gyro from a restaurant that had a rating from the actual health inspector, she was feeling a little big for her britches and popped down right at the bench where she used to ruminate. Something, something, this is the life.  

Colin Denon

Colin had been in New Victoria for two days. He was lost as shit. He hadn’t yet started looking for a job, and had no connections with anyone here. And like a true out-of-towner, a simple task of running to the nearest convenience store for ibuprofen proved to be more treacherous than a Greek Epic. He knew that his new apartment was close to a park, but this one didn’t look all too familiar from the pictures that he had combed through online. He knew he must have been a ways off, because even the rats walking through the grass looked like they were in a different tax bracket than him.   His phone held just enough charge to tell him that he had wandered an impressive hour and a half away from where he was supposed to be. With a defeated Bloop the phone’s screen went black. “Well ‘bloop’ to you too, you worthless piece of shi-“ He stopped for a moment, realizing quickly he wasn’t the only one in the park. He saw someone sitting on a park bench a few feet away, and figured they might know the city a little bit better than he did. Well, the bar for that was on the floor. Even the tumbling newspapers on the street had a better sense of direction. He stiffened himself up, mustered up the confidence that he could, and walked toward the occupied park bench. With more crack in his voice than a junkie’s bloodstream, he blurted out, “hI. Do yOu know where my aPartment is?” He tried to remember the address, but it was like a fog had filled in the cracks of his brain. “Uh. I might need a map. Or a charger. Do they even sell maps anymore? If you have a map I’d like to see that map and use it…uh. To get home.” Realizing the horror of his awkwardness and the suddenness in which he started that interaction, he stood with a blank expression on his face, waiting for any kind of response.  

Zara Babette Suha

Zara blinked at the stranger. While he definitely wasn't the weirdest person she'd met in the city, he looked a little too baby-faced (with these big "weepy lookin'" eyes, Zara noted) to be either a) soliciting drugs or b) selling them. In fact, even before his... outburst, he looked like he was about to cry. Regardless, she wasn't feeling all that intimidated, and simultaneously, he managed to be more awkward than her-- and the bar was on the floor. Underground, really. Overall, this was a social situation that was just in her wheelhouse.   "I don't know where you live, dude," Zara replied coolly, to the sound of applause and trumpets in her head. Maybe there was an off chance that this man was from Zanzibar or something and "dude" was a slur there, but she was pretty confident she'd actually nailed this delivery. Certain, even. She finally, finally might look cooler than someone! And nothing was on fire this time! Zara thought, which was also one of those awful 'low standards' acting up again. She squeezed her fists excitedly at the idea, ignoring that last part.   A clump of chicken and tzatziki sauce did a swan dive from her gyro and straight onto the pavement. Silence reigned. In her victorious ignorance, Zara had strangled the life out of her gyro.   In a furious second, she made eye contact with Colin, and spoke her next words as a clear command. "Forget you ever saw that."

[Pather, Forced Forgetfulness: x1 Minor, -1 EP (24/25)]

 

Colin Denon

Colin stood for a second, eyes blank. It was like his head had a hiccup. All the emotions before the suffocated gyro catastrophe blipped back into his noggin, and he remembered the situation. Bummed at the fact that he was still way off course and even more bummed that people on the street now knew he was an emotional basket-case, he made a piss-poor pass at salvaging the conversation with a strained “Cooool.” He started walking away. Backwards. He started walking backwards and into a light post. Like a true master of his craft, tried to play that off by walking forwards this time, into a bush. “fuck. um.” It didn’t matter that there was only one person watching this one-man-band of buffoonery. Colin felt like there was a city of eyes burning into his skin.   I need to try this again he thought.

[Transporter,Temporal Rewind: x1 Minor, -1 EP (24/25)]

  The park started to shift into reverse. Colin braced himself for what he was going to say to this random park stranger in the fifteen seconds of prep time. Everything shuddered and locked back into place, carefully awaiting his carefully-constructed words. All the words-that-be got caught sideways in his throat. And so there were no words. Only finger-guns. Colin started walking backwards again, still firing off his six-shooters, before tripping and landing on his back. He was going to cry.  

Zara Babette Suha

Huh. This felt a lot less victorious when the stranger finger-guns-ed himself ass backwards, and looked even more ready to burst into tears than before. Zara stood up, haphazardly tossing the husk of her gyro over her shoulder and into some bedraggled hedges behind her. Dusting off her hands, she carefully stepped over the lump of gyro guts that were not hers, thank you very much, and walked over to the poor crumple of Colin.   You're a little sad, my guy. "You look lost," Zara said instead, using her expert skills of deduction to make that stunning revelation. "I'm not like, super familiar with the whole city," which was a wee understatement considering she had a near eidetic memory when it came to directions. Scratching the back of her neck, her fingers absentmindedly moved to fiddle with her own hair as she squatted level with Colin. "I might be able to help, but my cell carrier charges me like crazy for data. We'll rawdog it, if you're okay with that."   Rawdog it? What the fuck? Zara smacked her own forehead, meeting the still-prone Colin's gaze with an intent (highly embarrassed) stare. You'd know this was coming if you remembered the last time. "Forget I said that," she commanded, waiting for a glazed blink on his part and then taking her cue to hit the big red Social Redo button.

[Pather, Forced Forgetfulness: x1 Minor, -1 EP (23/25)]

  Zara cleared her throat. "Yeah," her voice was an octave higher, "like I said, data is super expensive, but I can totally give you directions."  

Colin Denon

Colin felt like he had been laying on the ground for a month. He dusted off his pants, and winced a little bit at his now-skinned shin. The scrape wasn’t too bad, but he knew it would be one of those things that would strike up the embarrassing memory any time he bumped his leg on a doorway. He reached in his pocket to check for his wallet, which he remembered again he didn’t have on him.   “I mean, uh, yeah I can definitely pay you back for whatever the difference is. I don’t have- well I’m not very liquid at this exact second, but I can send you the money on your phone when my phone… is not dead anymore.”   He got up slowly, taking time to make sure that nothing else was missing from his pockets. In the same motion, he mentally cursed at himself for acting so impulsively, and that he really didn’t think this whole moving out/living on his own thing through. Appreciative of the help to offer and attempting to push through the weirdness of the conversation, he said,   “I’m- my name is Colin. I don’t know if I said that already. Did I- Did I say that already because it would be weird to introduce myself twice. But yeah, my name is Colin.”   He stood there, with a gut feeling that he was forgetting to say something. Oh yeah. Maybe ask this person who they are and thank them for offering to help you.   “Thanks- the phone and directions…thing. I don’t know you.”   Those were words. With the gut feeling he could try again and speak cohesively, Colin readied for a rewind.

[Transporter, Temporal Rewind: x1 Minor, EP (23/25)]

  The city dialed back a few seconds again, and he tried his hand once more at a proper introduction.   “My name’s Colin. What’s yours? Also thanks for-“   He quickly realized that he may have not planned his rewind thing out all that well either, since this random person might have just seen him go from on the ground to standing in less than a relative second. Colin froze again with an expression of both frustration at himself and abject fear.  

Storyteller

An excuse was quicky given and the young man sprinted off leaving Zara confused as to what had just happened and perhaps a mystery to unravel in the future.