2020-07-02 - A Push In The Right Direction

Having just opened the store for the day, Colin is doing his best not to fall back asleep at the small desk he uses. He's got his laptop open and he's looking at antique pieces but the cup of chamomile tea he's poured himself isn't really doing it for him this morning, and somehow antique doorknobs just aren't boosting his energy. Colin tugs gently at the plug in his ear and closes his eyes, expecting that there won't be any customers as he starts to nod off just ever-so-slightly. Not sleeping much at night tends to do wonders for wanting daytime naps - but the things you see in your dreams strengthens your resolve not to take them sometimes.

Hattie has blown (back) into town just recently. She's not really sure why she's here, but then, she's moved around so much that she doesn't even think to question it at this point. Some corners of her mind are much better left unexplored, she's found. She eyes the sign as she opens the door and slips into the shop silently, but just shrugs it off for now as well. Objects are appraised as she walks by (man, weird shit, but some of it definitely pocketable), but right now, she's here for another purpose. She heads for the counter, hesitating just slightly as the guy behind it seems to be falling asleep. "Um. Excuse me?" she addresses, somewhere between a whisper and a regular spoken voice. The feel of this place has her talking like it's a library or something.

Colin has already somehow managed to drift off. He's seeing the dark landscape of his mind again, the vast black and white that dominates everything. The sun is a white spiral in the sky that illuminates only the things he doesn't want to see. The thin, dancing figure on the horizon with spindly limbs and a menacing, toothy grin moves ever closer to him in a macabre ballet, but there is no sound. Just the sound of Colin's beating heart. As the inhuman creature dances ever closer, it's clear to see that the only other color in the dream is blood - on it's teeth and hands. The gauzy black dress it wears in the wind matches it's wide eyes. A tremendous sense of fight or flight takes over with the 'flight' winning by a landslide. Then Colin hears noise. 'Um, excuse me?' from outside of his dream. He wakes with a start, transfering all of his dream to Hattie withtout really meaning to - but needing to show someone.

Hattie's brain shuts that's down real fast, at this point more instinct than skill. She spent years learning how not to think things she doesn't want to think, thank you very much. "Jesus, what the fuck," she adds, giving him a scandalized look and stepping back as though he'd tried to physically hit her. "I mean, really. You call that customer service?" She's more shocked than angry, but honestly. <<Stay out of my head,>> she shoots back at him mentally.

Colin's face screws up and he might not have understood entirely what just happened, but he knows enough to then look aghast with himself when he sees how Hattie reacts to him waking up. He mutters something to himself in German. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean -- I didn't mean to do that. I was having a bad dream," he murmurs to her. "I apologize. That was not my intent." He's hesitant to meet her gaze but he finally looks up into her eyes. "I'm sorry... were you looking for anything in particular today?" He reaches out and takes a sip of the chamomile tea, half-cold by now, before he stands up and moves to make a pot of coffee (situated on the shelf behind the cash register). "I'm sure that you didn't come in for /that/," he says to her.

Hattie lowers her guard slowly as the (she assumes) clerk seems remorseful. She knows how it is when that stuff gets out of control. "You should really work on that," she says, eyeing him warily before deciding ultimately to try and put it behind her. "I, uh. No, not exactly. I was wondering if I could maybe put a sign up in the window," she explains, pulling a crappy Xeroxed notice from her bag, using the counter to quickly try and smooth out the wrinkles, and then holding it up slightly so that he can see the 'Housekeeper Available' part of the ad. "Old school, I know, but..." She trails off with a shrug. Desperate times call for desperate measures, and all that.

He nods slightly, his eyes still tired but his nerves standing on end. He shivers a little bit, feeling vulnerable as Hattie tells him to work on that.

Colin considers Hattie's sign as he waits on the coffee to brew, eyeballing for a second before nodding his head. "That's fine. Tape it in one of the front corners, people might notice it more there." He starts getting down coffee cups - one, turquoise and well-loved, and another that's white with green dots, brand new, and out of place in an antiques shop. "Whatever advertisements, as long as you get work, right? Would you care for a cup of coffee?" Colin asks. He tries to get a better feel for the woman and ask one question at a time before he overwhelms her again. He has been looking for someone to dust the shelves, after all...

"As long as I get money," Hattie corrects. "I mean, it beats starving." She says it easily, annoyance from before fading away quickly now that he's no longer trying to assault her senses. "And sure, coffee would be good. Thanks." She sets the ad on the counter and rubs it a few more times to get the wrinkles and creases out. "And sorry if I overreacted, I just... don't like shit in my head that I don't want there." Like anyone really does. But it makes her think about Those Times, and she hates thinking about Those Times. "You have some tape?" she goes on in the very next breath.

"Money is good too," Colin says, as if it's not the most important thing in the world to a large portion of it. He pours Hattie a cup of coffee in the older turquoise mug, "Cream or sugar maybe?" He asks, before pouring his own cup. "Yes... tape..." He says, hearing her apology but needing to collect his own thoughts. It's been a while since he's had a slip up of that magnitude. Why her? He blushes as he sets his coffee on the desk and starts to dig through one of the drawers, coming up with a small dispenser. "Ah yes, here you are." There's a long pause. "Most people don't like having things in their heads that they don't want there, whether it's sadness or other people's thoughts," he says in his strange cowboy German accent.

"Yeah, sure, both," Hattie replies to the offer of cream or sugar. She takes the tape dispenser from him with a nod of thanks, and heads back to the front of the store with the ad in hand. She notes his comment but doesn't reply until she's stuck up the paper to the window and returns back to the counter. "Yeah. Well Some of us have really bad experience with that stuff more than others," she points out as she offers the tape back to him now. "Not looking to lose my mind again any time soon, thank you." She worked too hard to regain her sanity to be having random shopkeepers push stuff at her when she walks in, in other words.

Colin brings Hattie's cup of coffee over to her and a small caddy that has packets of dry creamer, sugar and sweetner packets, and swizzle sticks in it. He sets it down on the desk and furrows his brow listening to her talk about losing her mind. "I don't know much about it. I - I don't know how many people have it... or why, or anything like that... look, here's the deal. I need information. You need work. I have a proposal. I'll pay you to come in twice a week and clean here, do some light dusting on the shelves, take out the trash, and maybe help me unload crates if you want. I'll pay you, and you... help me figure out whatever /this/ is?" Colin asks, before he sips his coffee.

"What, you mean, you've never...?" What, Hattie, been committed? Not that she remembers much about that. "Never figured it out?" she finishes a touch more lamely. "I mean, I don't know that much about it, really, but..." But she does need the work, badly. That Vegas money isn't going to last forever. "But I can try, sure. As long as you're not looking to put more shit in my head. That's gotta go." Like it's so easily done. She dumps a few creamers and sweeteners into her coffee. "Other than that, what do you even want to know?"

He sips at his coffee and shrugs his shoulders briefly. "I- I'm not sure yet. No one in my family - seems to be... like me. They just always said that I was... hyperactive or something. That's why I don't know anything. There was never anyone to ask," Colin explains, looking downward. He shakes his head. "No, I don't want to put anything else in your head. It was... I couldn't help it. I usually have a handle on it. I've learned a little bit to control it - you have to, I guess." He shrugs his shoulders and lets out an exasperated sigh. Where to begin? It's all so complicated. "There are a lot of things I want to do know. I want to do research them. But we don't have to talk about that now."

"Oh yeah, no. Families don't know anything," Hattie agrees readily, like the expert. Her family didn't, anyway. She turns the mug of coffee between her hands, looking down into the drink. "But sure, yeah. Let's save that conversation for when I'm on the clock. Speaking of, when do I start, boss?" She flashes him a most winning smile. Not that she's desperate for work or anything. "I'll dust. We'll talk. It'll be great." Until she has to admit she has no idea why she knows what she knows or even really what it is she knows.

Colin sits down at his desk and sips on his coffee, reaching into one of the drawers for paperwork. The preliminary, boring things that people have to do to secure legal work. He pushes it to her with a pen. "I'm glad to hear that at least you're something of a kindred spirit. I've never gotten to speak to one." He nibbles on his bottom lip contemplatively, tilting his head. "What about tomorrow? I'm here most of the day... and if you like it here, I mean, I could use more permanent help. Someone to watch over things while I run errands or... sleep or something. But we can talk about that later too."

Hattie takes the pen and clicks it a few times as she scans the paperwork and then starts filling it out without missing a beat, hitting all those fields like someone who has applied for a lot of jobs. "You've never spoken to someone like... us? Oh honey, no wonder you're confused." She tuts but doesn't glance up from the paperwork. "Sure, tomorrow works. I mean, I'll have to check my schedule, but I'm sure I can pencil it in." Because she's unemployed with no fixed address. The one on the form is sort of made up.

He looks properly embarrassed when she calls him out on his lack of knowledge, let alone lack of context or contacts in the world of Glimmer. He takes in a breath and nods. "I've never really had the chance. My parents just... were very logical people. They didn't believe the things I said, so I quit talking about them." He shrugs his shoulders like it's all fairly normal, taking a long pull from his coffee and finally giving Hattie a small, shy smile. "Very good then. I can show you around properly tomorrow."