SOTF Archive/SOTF Classic

[Carmina Maliksi - Start]

Carmina found Aurora to be... safe, so far. All those workouts and those countless hours spent assembling burgers in McDonald's this past summer seemed to be paying off. She had friends. She wasn't some awkward shut-in anymore. She even had some nice clothes! I mean, sure there was French (which, as it turned out, wasn't exactly the easiest language), the finals coming up, and then there was the occasional tease about her weight and even her clothes, but other than that, freshman year was going great for her. To think that it was about to end in 1 month. 1 month. She'd already made it through most of the year without a major incident.

It was already late afternoon. She was heading to the Student Center to meet up with her Anime Club for their daily meeting. She found that place to be heaven. She loved having friends that shared the same interests as her. It was fun being able to talk to someone about SHINee. She had with her a box set of the anime Higurashi: When They Cry. She heard a lot about it on some of the forums she checked occasionally but had no idea what the hype was about. Guess it was time to find out.

Brandon Baxter had suit measurements in his pocket.

They were discovered on chance, an accident that occurred in three easy steps, even in the midst of talking and joking with a small grouping of friends. It was a casual day; there was lunch to eat, and classes to attend, and girls to flirt and flounce with. It was one of those times where the situation called for casualness, and he had reached into his pocket. Easy, simple. Normal. As he had done so, he had felt a slight crinkling, a feeling as if an object in his pocket didn't belong, wasn't natural.

That was step one.

The next step was sudden realization: just what was it that was crackling in his pocket whenever his fingers brushed against it? Curiosity momentarily distracted him in mid sentence, digging into his jeans to close fingers around the soft, small square, tugging it to the daylight.

Step two.

His friends looked on in curiosity as he methodically unfolded the piece of paper, his facial features morphing from one of mild fixation to one of blank recognition. There, in faded, bleached ink from going through the wash too many times, the pen scrawlings stretched and distorted and merging with the solid lines of the piece of paper.

48L - 43 - 21 ¾ - 39 - 40.

Step three.

Just like that, those small series of numbers - suit size, chest, shoulder, chest and waist - had him stopping mid-step, staring at those little blue smudges on the faded, soft material. The image of standing on a stool while a short bald man wielded a measuring tape on him propelled other images, like an avalanche of thought and blurred sound, harkening back a month, two months.

Pallbearers. Church bells. Last goodbyes, weeping families, closed casket.

He didn't remember how he got from standing in that small, close-knit group to wandering the halls, but it had happened. He also didn't remember squeezing the piece of paper until it was a knotted ball in his fist. In fact, he felt as though he were numb, somewhere on the verge of wanting to shriek with laughter and roar with rage and totally break down all into one. He didn't truly see Carmina Maliski walking down the opposing side of the hall, nor did he truly feel it when he rammed into her shoulder with his own, too stuck in the fog of his inward flailing to recover from the ledge he was teetering over.

But he suddenly became blisteringly aware of the need to snap.

Whirling to face the girl he had rammed into, his face shifted into a mockery of her expression - shock, maybe irritation - before snapping at her.

"Watch where you're fuckin' going, lard-o. Heavy transit has to sound approach."

She was halfway to the room where the Anime meetings were held when she was rammed by Brandon.

Carmina knew Brandon to be one of those troublemakers, people she liked to avoid usually. His appearance alone intimidated her. His scruffy beard made him look years older than he actually was. His body structure made her seem like a dwarf compared to him. She'd only seen him before a few times in Aurora and made sure to stay as far away from him as possible.

But now here he was.

She managed to prevent her DVD from slipping from her grasp. She was going to go on her way, but as soon as she heard what he said, her nostrils flared. Her voice prepared to rise into that high pitch she always speaks in when she's angry. She didn't care who he was but-

Carmina reminded herself to calm down. Shouting at people usually made stuff worse for her. It made her incoherent and even seem vulnerable at times. She took a deep breath.

"If I'm correct, I believe you're the one who bumped into me in the first place. Also, lard-o? Really? Where did you pick up that insult? 5th grade?"

Brandon shrugged his big shoulders, his paper - the measurements - crinkling alongside the clenching of his fist. He saw her bobble the DVD, and something flashed in the back of his mind - watching cartoons is for kids and who was she, standing in his way at a time like this?

He accepted the anger. Anger was good. Anger was fine compared to the  numbness that had started creeping in and settling over him like an ominous rain cloud, waiting and promising to strike but never quite delivering. He'd cherish rage - at Carmina, who hadn't really blipped on his radar until this moment - and feed it compared to the alternative.

"I got it from the same place I imagine you collect this stupid shit," he responded, tapping at the DVD while moving closer to her. "So, fifth grade if it pleases you, jello."

That insult almost made her wince in pain. Her collection of anime DVDs weren't stupid. Higurashi wasn't some kid's show. Right? Also, she wasn't that fat. Sure, she was chubby, but she wasn't like Jell-O. She even had a few muscles.

While Carmina tried her best to maintain her pokerface, she was beginning to show the slightest hint of a frown. "You know, you're almost making me laugh. 'Jello?' 'Heavy transit?' Look, Brandon. In school, you think with this," she said as she jabbed his forehead. "Not that." This time, she was pointing below his belt.

Brandon's smile widened into a near grimace, a macabre display of emotion that had him almost at a boiling point. In his head, he pictured one of those ridiculous old cartoons - where Bugs Bunny would place a thermometer into Yosemite Sam's mouth, and the rage of the red-headed cowboy had the thermometer climbing and climbing - up and up until the mercury expanded and exploded into dozens of shards of glass in an over the top kaboom sound effect. With each digit the mercury climbed past, another inch of the numbness burst into feeling.

He moved closer, cocking an eyebrow as he crowded her, towering over her smaller form.

"Well, now," he drawled, drawing the syllables out, "it looks like someone's thinking about my cock between the two of us, but it sure as hell isn't me. I didn't know you wanted a tumble, sister. If you weren't doing your best impression of a beach ball, I might even be interested."

He reached out then, a slow and easy swipe, aiming to grab a hold of the DVD - Higarushuu? He couldn't make out the title - in her hand.

Whatever remained of Carmina's placidity had gone the second he said that.

She managed to move her DVD away before Brandon could grab it. Then, her voice raised into a high-pitched tone. At this point, she was shouting so loud that her voice could be heard booming across the hallway.

"Screw you! You probably think you're some bigshot, huh?! I would never want to date you. You look like some, some hobo that his parents left on the street! If you don't like me, then just go away! I won't bother you again! Just get the hell out of my sight!"

Baxter stopped, stepping backwards at the sudden thunderous roar that this little pussycat erupted into the second he went for her precious little DVD. A smile curled the right side of his mouth at the kitten displaying her claws, his arms coming to fold over his chest in an easy, slow manner that was almost second nature.

He'd pissed her off. The thought was a delicious one, wrapping around his mind. Dragging someone to his level made it better. Made it okay. Never suffer in silence.

Don't suffer alone.

"Aw, you'd never bother me, babe," he purred, malice lighting in his eyes and dancing feverishly, "I mean, other than your severely unattractive face and revolting fashion sense, not to mention your ridiculous obsession with cartoons..."

He trailed off, face twisting to a mockingly thoughtful expression, leaning closer to her face. "Actually, yes. You bother me quite a bit. In fact, the realization that you and I share air has me feeling insulted."

((I may or may not fix this later on. Sorry ._.))
A very small voice in Carmina's head was telling her that she should probably run away, but she immediately ignored that voice and focused on releasing all her anger. She ignored it even when it was becoming very clear that Brandon was becoming just as mad as she was. Why? Because he had managed to insult almost everything about her. Almost.

Her voice had decreased to a very low tone to match Brandon's. She was almost whispering by now.

"Glad to see we feel the same way about each other. Also, how would you know a thing or two about fashion? Are you a closeted homosexual? If you are, don't worry, I am a very accepting person."

Baxter chuffed out a laugh, turned on his heel, and started walking for the exit.

"Baby, if I weren't gay before, I sure as fuck am now that I saw your mug."

Wasn't worth his time. Wasn't worth his anger.

Go find someone else.

((Brandon Baxter, continued elsewhere))