|
|
Post by charlie annalise richards on Feb 11, 2012 3:38:14 GMT -5
Charlie sat at the front desk of the hotel, spinning back and forth in her chair. When she would stop, her hair would fall into her face, and she wound start spinning again. She wanted to go home. Even if home was a cold hard park bench. She just wanted to get out of her white button-up blouse and her black skirt that went from her waist to just above her knees. She thought about Tyler a moment, wondering what he was doing. If he was doing anything at all. If he was okay. She tipped her head to the side, her hair falling out of her eyes.
"Cause I won't sat good-bye anymore. Woah-oh-oh!" She sang to the tune over the intercom, then saw her manager glare at her. She lowered her head, drawing her lips together.
|
|
|
|
Post by oliver lee winchester on Feb 11, 2012 16:01:11 GMT -5
Oliver normally slept in the boys dorm at the university in town. Unfortunately there was a bit of a mishap (an unexpected fire in another dorm that they wanted to check out), and thus most denizens of the dorms on Oliver's floor suddenly found themselves holed up in hotels for the night.
After a few hours of sleep, Oliver found that he couldn't sleep any more. Not with the dreams that he kept on having. He could not help but think about them, wondering what the meaning of them was. Why did he keep dreaming about times that were long past? To make matters even more strange, the same faces kept turning up again and again. Where was this coming from?
Oliver decided to head down to the lobby to take a bit of a walk, and was surprised to hear a female voice singing over the intercom. He chuckled a little, noted the girl's manager shooting her a look, and then the girl quieting herself abruptly. Oliver could be shy when it came to crowds, but he had no problem approaching this girl, especially when someone rained on her parade. He wanted to fix that. "You didn't have to stop singing on account of me." He remarked with a small grin.
|
|
|
|
Post by charlie annalise richards on Feb 11, 2012 16:20:07 GMT -5
Charlie looked up at the boy and smiled. She chewed on her lip a bit before rotating her chair back and forth. "Do you need something, sir?" She asked, and saw her manager glare at her again. She stopped spinning her chair, and crossed her legs, tapping her fingers on her knees.
'I wanna go home, I wanna go home, I wanna go home..' She thought, looking back over at the boy. He was kind of cute, reminded her a bit of Tyler. In a strange way. But he was much quieter, it seemed. And not quite as hyper as her boyfriend was. She pushed a piece of paper to the corner of the desk, her orange hair falling into her face. She pushed it back, looking up at him again.
|
|
|
|
Post by oliver lee winchester on Feb 11, 2012 16:31:51 GMT -5
Oliver wanted to shoot a glare of his own at the manager. Sure, he could understand the manager wanting his employees to behave at work, but it wasn't as though this girl was causing any huge problems by spinning on her chair. God forbid she actually enjoy work.
"Nah, I just couldn't sleep and came down here for a walk." The nineteen year old responded, hoping that the manager wouldn't mind the girl at least chatting to a customer. It wasn't like he was hitting on her, that wasn't his sort of thing. He barely knew the girl. He just figured that she was clearly bored, and nearly had her mood ruined by her manager. "I'm Oliver, by the way."
|
|
|
|
Post by charlie annalise richards on Feb 11, 2012 16:52:41 GMT -5
"Oh. Yeah. I don't sleep a lot either." She looked down at the toes of her shoes. "But park benches get kinda cold. So that could be why." She shrugged, looking over at the computer and it's annoying screensaver. 'BE POLITE!' it proclaimed.
"I'm Charlie." She said with a smile, folding her arms across her stomach. She watched her manager step out, and walk out the back door. He reminded her of Tyler's older brother. Only more mean. She checked the time, and realized it was time for lunch. But she was neither hungry nor had the money to eat. Not that she ate anyways. She didn't need to eat. She was dead. She ran a hand through her hair, then over her arm and the claw marks there.
"We can go sit out front, if you want.. I'm supposed to be on lunch but I'm-"
"Can I get a towel?" She looked up at the girl, then walked into the office, grabbing a towel and handing it to her.
"I'm not going." She finished.
|
|
|
|
Post by oliver lee winchester on Feb 11, 2012 16:59:59 GMT -5
Oliver looked taken aback. "Park benches?" This girl had to sleep on park benches? Was he hearing that correctly?
Oliver, too, watched the manager walk out the back door, and couldn't help but grin. "Well, at least the Grinch is gone." He commented, hoping that she'd appreciate the humor.
When the girl revealed (with an untimely interruption by another hotel guest...but hey, he couldn't exactly blame her) that she wasn't going to lunch, and would be sticking around, Oliver shrugged. "You can if you want. Better company than the odd dreams, I'll say." Well, some of the odd dreams. Actually, he enjoyed most of his odd dreams. They felt familiar in a way that made Oliver feel like he almost belonged in those dreams. It was more the fact that he couldn't figure out why he kept having these recurring dreams. When Oliver had a question, he usually wanted to find the answer straight away. The fact that he didn't have one bothered him.
|
|
|
|
Post by charlie annalise richards on Feb 11, 2012 17:14:26 GMT -5
"What's a grinch?" She asked, sliding off of her stool. Having died in the early 1900's, she didn't know anything about Dr. Suess. She walked around the desk, a considerably short little person. She only stood about four-foot-eleven. If that. Which would explain why she always got weird looks. Not that her orange hair didn't contribute to that. She walked out the front door, and over to a tall tree. It had just began to bloom flowers. She sat down under neath it, stretching her legs out in front of her. She smoothed down her skirt, then folded her legs at the ankles.
"And yes, park benches." She said, remembering his earlier question. She was absent minded if anything.
|
|
|
|
Post by oliver lee winchester on Feb 11, 2012 17:37:58 GMT -5
Oliver was surprised at her next question, but decided to keep it simple. "Basically just means grump. It's usually used around Christmas time, but that guy seems like he's a grump year round." Oliver remarked, making sure that said 'Grinch' wasn't lurking about. If anything about Charlie's death were mentioned it might trigger something in Oliver, considering he had roots in the early 1900s as well, though the subject remained out of reach.
When walking beside the girl, Oliver couldn't help but be slightly amused. He was nearly a foot taller than her, at 5'10", and because of his tall and lanky figure, he liked looked even taller than he actually was. An old high school friend of his used to call him ganglylimbs with a good reason, after all.
"Why park benches?" He couldn't help but ask, feeling that he was prying, but she hadn't exactly shied away from the subject either.
|
|
|
|
Post by charlie annalise richards on Feb 11, 2012 17:47:32 GMT -5
She looked over at him, shrugging her shoulders. "Because when you die and come back, you aren't provided with housing. And it's not like I had much when I was alive either. I lived in this big orphanage with a bunch of other kids." She shrugged again. It wasn't like she could bother Tyler about it. His mom had enough mouths to feed. And she was fine on her bench.
She pulled her hair over her shoulder, playing with it a bit. "You like Christmas?" She asked, looking over at him again. She ran her fingers across the ends of her orange hair, looking up at him. "You get a bunch of presents?" She herself had never gotten anything for Christmas. Except a book once. And she had cherished that book until she died.
|
|
|
|
Post by oliver lee winchester on Feb 11, 2012 20:57:14 GMT -5
At Charlie's explanation, it all became clear, and Oliver frowned. "Well that doesn't seem right." Not that there was anything he could do about it, but...well, it still didn't seem right. Especially when she apparently worked at a hotel. Couldn't the guy at least offer up one of the rooms to stay at for the day? Even if he just charged her the money she made working to live there.
"When did you die?" Oliver asked, thinking back to his dreams. "I keep dreaming about a long time ago myself, though I'm not entirely sure why..." Maybe she could help him solve the mystery? Obviously there was more to her than met the eye, so why not try?
"I do like Christmas." He said with a nod. Then again, he had a good family. He felt a bit awkward with the way she was asking questions, but he answered them truthfully. "I don't know if I'd say a bunch, but I get a few, yes. My parents got me a tool kit just this past Christmas...I've been looking for ways to put it to use." Oliver chuckled. Of course, with Oliver's penchant for taking things apart and building things, he'd find a use for everything in that kit at some point...
|
|
