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Wes Arcturus Hana Sun-Hee

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#1 Wes Arcturus

Wes Arcturus

Posted 21 November 2015 - 09:16 AM

Roommates. The very idea felt suffocating, terrifying; he dreaded stepping out of his room every day if only because he would very likely have to deal with someone else. Yet he was the one that set up the whole thing. The moment he was sure the bed and breakfast wasn't a hazard he began to rent out rooms, even if it wasn't complete. Paint was peeling from the walls, the stairs creaked dangerously, the floors were scratched and some rooms had holes in the floors and walls that made them unlivable. Eventually he would fix those up too. Eventually the house would be exactly as he wanted it; refurbished, polished wood, freshly painted walls, a better equipped kitchen, a warm living room with furniture and proper amenities. Showers that didn't leak, bathtubs that didn't have rings around them, toilets that always functioned. Eventually things would fall into place. 

 

Fortunately, with things like this, he was a rather patient person. Others were another story. And while he desperately fought the idea of roommates in his own mind, he knew at some point or another that he had little choice given the amount of money he was putting into fixing the place up. Loans wouldn't suffice. He had to make some sort of income in the process, even if he wasn't entirely sure how to go about dealing with tenants. It took little effort to talk Raj into doing that for him-- he was an old family friend-- but he was still living with others.

 

To some extent, people just didn't bother speaking to him. He was quiet, kept to himself, and purposely put off an intimidating vibe that people typically didn't fuck with. That was fine with him. People scared him, made him terribly anxious; he thought he was better off putting up a mask of irritation and intimidation than letting his nerves show. It worked thus far.

 

There were a few pesky roommates that insisted upon conversation, however. He'd started to recognize their faces long before they had the chance to speak to him. Even if he knew Raj, he was grouped in with those faces. The guy just had a tendency to talk too much about the things he was passionate about. Not that Wes minded listening, but he just wanted to be alone sometimes.

 

Now was no different. As he worked on fixing some of the water damage in the kitchen, he caught sight of a shock of blonde hair nearby. At first he didn't look at her in hopes of avoiding conversation, but after a while he finally looked down at her as if to scare her off, his gaze piercing and aggressively expectant, as if to say "what do you want?" Yet he didn't speak, just stared at her, waiting, his hands still tied up with whatever he was doing with the ceiling.


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#2 Hana Sun-Hee

Hana Sun-Hee

Posted 22 November 2015 - 05:11 AM

Hana loved roommates. Absolutely loved them. Of course, she'd never had them before but just the idea was blissful. A house full of people to hang out with? Friends? Buddies? Pals? Sign her the fuck up. The experience itself had been everything she'd hoped for, too. She got to chat, she got to eat, she got to joke, and she'd already made progress with most of the house (in her mind, at least.) She'd introduced herself to everyone at least twice, and she'd held more than four three sentence conversations with at least two different people. The math was a little complicated, but she'd been keeping track exceptionally and was now dangerously aware that there was only one person in the house that she hadn't made progress with.

Wes Arcturus. From what she'd gathered, the entire thing had been his idea. A little odd, really, because he seemed to constantly be missing. Of course, she assumed he was busy moreso than avoiding the other residents, but it didn't matter either way. When she'd woken up earlier in the day, she'd made it her day goals to find him, initiate a conversation, and learn more about him. She had no idea that it would be so easy until she trickled into the kitchen hoping for food and found, instead, the object of her temporary desires slaving away over something that was neither registered nor recognizable in her mind. Didn't matter, wasn't important, she didn't care; what she did care about was getting his attention and clearly the best way to do that was slide on over and occupy every inch of her personal space.

It was the best method, a surefire way, clearly.

She hadn't realized how tall he was until he stood up completely. Suddenly feeling very small (and only slightly intimidated), she brushed up her brightest smile, lifted a quick wave, and out came the chatter. "You're Wes, right? I haven't met you yet! It's kind of strange because I've been here for a little over a week, but I guess we just have different schedules, huh? But you're here now and I'm here now and I figured I should introduce myself because we're roommates and roommates should always introduce themselves, y'know? I mean, that's what my mom said anyway, and she's always right! So... oh, right, I'm Hana! I guess introducing myself doesn't work if I don't actually introduce myself, huh?"

Cue brief pause. Grab your things and run, boys.

"Anyway, whatcha got there? Do you always fix things? Do you need help? I mean, I've never done it before... er... whatever it is, but I'm sure I could help somehow! Oh!" Poor Wes, she was already scattering off nearby, swiping a flashlight from the counter and flicking it on and off a few times. "You probably need light, right? I could hold this for you, if you want?"

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#3 Wes Arcturus

Wes Arcturus

Posted 22 November 2015 - 06:24 AM

Ah, fuck. Looking at her had been a clear mistake he knew now; some people were immune to that look. His cousin Avery in particular came to mind. It didn't matter what sort of look he gave the guy-- if Avery had something in mind, he would talk about it incessantly. Sometimes he valued that in his cousin, but he certainly didn't value it in a stranger. Strangers made his arms tense, his mind short circuit. People just scared him that way. He wasn't good around them.

 

So her barrage of words had him looking away, focusing instead on his task at hand. He took some of the supplies he needed off of the counter as she was all talk-talk-talk, listening to what she said even if he seemed completely disinterested, bored, or irritated with it. That was the thing about Wes-- perhaps why he hated being around people to begin with-- he absorbed everything possible in a social situation. Words, expressions, feelings. None of these were forgotten by their next interaction. He would retain everything she said, would be able to recite bits and pieces of their first conversation in ten years. Not that he knew there was a future for them in ten years yet, but it would become apparent. Eventually.

 

Regardless, he had a tendency to absorb too many emotions, too. He didn't handle those well. Blame it on a lack of a proper parental figure when he was a kid, but he simply just didn't know what to do with his hands when faced with emotional situations. Sadness? It typically turned to anger, a fierce determination to fix things. Perhaps renovating this house didn't involve any anger, no, but it did involve that fierce determination. Fixing an entire house was how he grieved his grandparents' death. Needless to say, if he was that bad at dealing with his own emotions, he certainly wasn't equipped to absorb the emotions of others.

 

But she was here and he had to deal with her. He couldn't leave the project at hand now that he'd started it. Some of his supplies would dry before he was finished if he waited for her to leave. So instead his mind kept spinning as she just kept talking, though he graced her with no answers. He gave a quiet grunt of an answer to her name, not sharing his simply because he didn't want to speak. She could ask someone else if she really wanted to know.

 

Her questions, however, begged to be answered. He supposed he could shake his head at her offer of help and leave it as simple as that, but he also knew he had to be kind to his tenants. There was no reason to live here if the landlord was cold as ice. "Water damage," was all he said as he started back up the ladder and to the ceiling, raising his hands to work on the square hole he'd started already. There was black mold growing there; he needed to open up the ceiling, take out the insulation in that specific spot, clean it thoroughly, replace it with dry wall and plaster, and paint it to patch it up. It was quite the task, but necessary, especially with others living there.

 

"Not right now," he told her, as he was working on the surface. Perhaps a light-holder could be good for him, he supposed. Not that he wanted her to stick around. Still, he noticed he'd forgotten his exacto knife on the counter there, so he blinked a few times, giving a sigh of defeat before he finally spoke again. "Could you hand me that knife, just there?"


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#4 Hana Sun-Hee

Hana Sun-Hee

Posted 23 November 2015 - 05:26 AM

He wasn't much of a talker. She wasn't extremely observant in most people related aspects, but that she noticed immediately. She blamed it mostly on the fact that he was elbow deep in something important. Optimistically, of course, because everything she thought came painted pretty with rose-tinted positivity even though she'd already been warned prior that he wasn't much of a social butterfly. That sort of thing really didn't matter to her, anyway. People were always good, no matter how they acted. Her life had been a fog of mostly-wrong assumptions like that. Quiet people were shy, not unfriendly. Sharp remarks were hasty, not rude. Arguments were misunderstandings. Hana was, for the most part, a walking danger zone. She attracted and even allowed the use of her emotional withstandings as a doormat, so to speak. So long as people were happy at the end of the day, she didn't care. That was her goal, her set-out-to-do life chart. It made her smile to see others smile, and she assumed that she could benefit everyone like that.

She'd never been much too talented otherwise, so it was something she took pride in.

"Oh! Water damage, that's... that's a thing, right! I bet it's pretty nasty, huh?" She had absolutely no idea what water damage meant. Clearly it was damage. From water, obviously. But was that really all that bad? "So you're... scrubbing it off? Or... fixing it?" The view from her tip-toes wasn't helping much. She could see that he was doing something, but it looked like a big old mess to her. The ceiling had been obviously messed with and there were indents and pieces missing but she couldn't quite figure out why. If he was just cleaning the damage, she wasn't sure why he needed to dismantle the entire thing.

And that alone was reason enough as to why she didn't need to live on her alone. For Hana, roommates and people to moniter her were a blessing. Her parents knew that, too. She needed real world experience but she also needed someone nearby to babysit her. It was their fault, too, and they recognized it, but feeling guilty about it wouldn't do anyone any good. The damage was done, and all they could do now was hope to repair it via harsher methods.

It took a second for his request to settle and another for her to peel her attention away from the ceiling, eyes shifting sideways to see the knife on the counter. "Oh, sure! Sure, let me just... grab that, and, oh!" There went the flashlight, clattering to the ground loudly in her first (and certainly not last, that's for sure) show of clumsy scrambling. It took a few seconds for her to gather her thoughts before she grabbed the light and swapped it for the knife, handing it up to Wes in the worst way possible: blade first.

"Does this sort of thing take a long time?"

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#5 Wes Arcturus

Wes Arcturus

Posted 23 November 2015 - 07:27 AM

Questions, questions. Typically he could stand the presence of a talkative person so long as they didn't ask so many damn questions. When he was expected to reciprocate conversation he just didn't do well; it had a lot to do with his intense anxiety around people, sure, but in reality he just didn't have that much to say. He wasn't terribly passionate in his opinions so much as the activities he involved himself in, and for that reason he had no reason to be argumentative. The things he loved to do were also typically solo activities; it gave him fulfillment to accomplish things alone, actually, and he preferred it by far than working in groups. So truthfully he neither had much to say or ask for, even when he was with someone he was comfortable with.

 

That wouldn't change. Certainly his expressions would change over time. He seemed angry now, aggressive, bored. With those he cared about he just seemed like a blank slate. Not exactly expressionless but neither was he evidently engrossed in conversation. Most people, upon realizing exactly this about Wes, didn't care to get to know him. That was fine with him. Still, he was incredibly kind in his own right and would do just about anything for someone he cared about. He just wanted to keep that circle incredibly limited. He had no intentions of this girl walking into said circle.

 

So he did his best to chase her off-- sighing heavily at all the right times, giving her that piercing eye when he thought it was appropriate, and so on. Surely something would work eventually. "Both," he answered her, not bothering to explain exactly what he meant by both cleaning and fixing. He had to get inside the walls to clean them-- that was where the mold grew-- and afterwards he had to fix it by patching it back up. She would see what he meant as he worked.

 

He cringed as she dropped the flashlight, the loud noise sending a shock up his spine. He'd never been good with loud noises. For this reason he glared at her as she handed up the knife instead, doing his best to navigate around the sharp blade. "Don't break that flashlight," he warned her; he would need it later and he certainly didn't need her playing around with it.

 

It wouldn't take terribly long to fix, he knew, and for a moment he considered telling her just that. But out of fear that she might decide to stick around and help, he decided to... stretch the truth. Never lie-- in no way was Wes a liar, as he despised those-- but it wouldn't hurt to exaggerate, now would it? "I dunno," he answered as he started to finish up the square hole he was cutting. "Depends on how much damage. If there's enough it could take all day." Still wasn't a lie.


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#6 Hana Sun-Hee

Hana Sun-Hee

Posted 24 November 2015 - 08:44 PM

So she was a little clusmy. He didn't seem too bothered by her little mishap, though she would have understood if he had been. Thankfully, the flashlight was fine. Not even a scratch on it, really, which was amazing. It had been a pretty steep drop, after all. Overall, things were going pretty well in her mind. She'd been warned repeatedly about Wes, about how quiet and unapproachable he was, about how any attempt to talk to him was a waste, but she didn't see it that way. He was the silent type, definitely, but he was still answering her which, to Hana, was a greenlight that things were a-okay. It was hard, once she was enganged, to get her to go away. She was a very petite, very adorable little pest, essentially.

"Oh no, it's fine! Not even a scratch, see?" And she held it up to him, too, just in case he wanted to see. "I'll be more careful, though. I've always been kinda clumsy, y'know? My parents said it was bad luck, but I think I'm just uncoordinated. I wasn't any good at ballet, or... any dancing, really. I have two left feet so it only makes sense that I have two left hands, too." The wonderful part about Hana (maybe, sort of, kind of) was that she recquired little to no response in order to have a conversation. If people wanted to join in, great! Perfect! She loved talking to and about other people and their problems, but it wasn't necessary. She was always glad to just ramble on about anything and everything in order to fill silence.

But for the moment she was too busy craning upwards, trying her damndest to see all of this damage, as if it was something that was just outright obvious. Even if she could see through ceiling tiles, the likelyhood of her knowing what she was looking at exactly was moot. She'd never done a day of hard labor once in her life, especially not when it involved home improvement. That was always her father's choice of time wasting and he'd always known better than to ask her to help. Not that he would have, anyway.

"Oh... it's that bad, huh?" The sadness in her tone was genuine. "Well, that's okay! If it takes all day, I'll be glad to stay and help. I don't start my new job until tomorrow, so I don't have anything else to do. Do you need me to hand you something else? Ooooh, what is this?"

It was a hammer, for those playing at home, but she genuinely had no idea and had moved on from deathgrip-holding the flashlight to turning the object over repeatedly in awe. "What do you do with this? It looks pretty dangerous... Do you get hurt a lot doing stuff like this? My dad sometimes came inside bleeding after he worked outside, but it was never anything serious. Although one time he fell off of a ladder and broke his leg... but he was okay!"

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#7 Wes Arcturus

Wes Arcturus

Posted 04 December 2015 - 06:18 AM

Had Wes not been so riddled with anxiety all the time, he might have understood Hana for the rare gem that she was. His attempts to brush her off-- his attempts to be abrasive, rude, and intimidating-- were not working. She was one of those people, the positive types that kept trucking on through negativity without even giving it the time of day. Those types of people were the ones that won Wes' heart, the ones that he became incredibly protective of whether he liked it or not. So had he not been so annoyed by her presence at the moment, he might have noticed. He might have seen just how dangerous she was, and not just in the sense of anxiety, but in the sense of how attached he would grow to this chattering.

 

He certainly wasn't attached now. Instead her positivity had his jaw clenching as he eyed the ceiling above him. He could give her no encouragement in continuing conversation; one worded answers would get the job done, he knew, as he'd managed to chase positive thinkers like her off before. If intimidation didn't work, certainly his boring nature would. And he was quite boring in his mind. That, to some extent, was why he liked to chase others off before they had the chance to get to know him. He just didn't think he was interesting, and he had a serious fear of abandonment that he just couldn't shake. It would be devastating to lose someone close to him simply because he wasn't interesting enough to keep them.

 

So it was easier to be the loner he was. It got lonely, certainly, but he was more than used to handling it. Even as a child he was this sort of person. There was little chance of her swaying him into conversation so easily. He didn't eye the flashlight as she held it up, still concentrating on the ceiling above him instead, as if trying to dismiss that topic of conversation altogether. He couldn't encourage her. "Mhm," he muttered, taking her word for it, as he started to cut into the material. Hopefully there wouldn't be much damage inside the ceiling. He wasn't sure if he could take that stress and the anxiety of conversation simultaneously.

 

Christ. She would stay all day if she had to. He really didn't need her help. Well-- okay, it would be a lot faster if he had someone to hand him tools, yes, but he had a feeling she wasn't the right one for the job. She'd break everything or hurt one of them before it was all said and done. His heart jumped into his throat as she picked up the hammer, his eyes darting over to her. The worry might have been apparent in his eyes as he shook his head at her.

 

"It's a hammer," he said firmly, as if it was the most obvious thing in the universe. "It is dangerous. Put it down before you hurt yourself." He gave an exasperated sigh, irritated with himself for caring. But he couldn't exactly deal with a hurt tenant here, now could he? That sounded like a clusterfuck of lawsuits that he didn't want to delve into.


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#8 Hana Sun-Hee

Hana Sun-Hee

Posted 05 December 2015 - 04:48 AM

Hana very rarely saw flaws in people. She didn't have a single negative bone in her body. Most things could be handwaved, forgotten or written over, and his silence was one of those magically erasable instances. He was just shy, or busy, or short of conversational topics. Not a big deal. She was more than happy to take the lead in any and all chit-chat sessions. It wasn't a problem to her at all. Thankfully Hana was never, ever short on things to say. She could spill her entire life story and then find something outside of a nearby window that'll summon up fifty more stories. That was just how she worked. It was a trait that, she believed, came from her grandmother, an old yet endearing chatterbox herself.

She was especially endeared to his type, actually. Shy people, quiet people, loners so to speak. They always seemed to be out on their luck when it came to deep, long lasting friendships. It wasn't their fault, either. Silence was hard to deal with if you didn't have an instruction manual or, in Hana's case, a glass three quarters full. She saw these people, lost and alone and without a friendly ear or shoulder to lean on, and she felt indebted to them. They needed help, obviously, and she was just the prescription needed. A friend to the friendless, so to speak. So no matter what he did, or how much he tried to chase her off, she was already planning a full week of Wes-pestering. Westering, if you will.

"Oh, a hammer, right! Yeah, I... totally knew that, I was just testing you." She wasn't beyond lying, of course. Everyone has flaws, right? To be honest, though, she just felt a little dumb suddenly. A hammer was so basic. She'd heard it thrown around on television and on the radio a thousand times. She'd never paid attention to what it was by any means, but she at least knew of its existence. She didn't know what it did, or how to use it, or what it looked like, obviously, but she'd heard of it, at least.

Which was saying something slightly positive in this massive clusterfuck of sheltered child madness.

"So are you going to renevate this whole place? By yourself?" It seemed a little daunting for one man. The place wasn't in shambles by any means. It was still livable, at least, but she could tell that it needed some work. Some of the floorboards creaked and the paint was peeling. Even she could see that. And a goal this big seemed like it would take time and energy if it was spread out in a group much more sizable than just the two of them. She couldn't imagine how long something like this would take with just one person. "What else do you have to do?"

Yes, there was method to her madness. She wasn't always free, but she did have a fair chunk of time available and she had every intention of offering to help whenever she could. It was a two for one special, really. She got to help liven up her new home, and she got to build ties someone who clearly needed company. It was the perfect plan.

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#9 Wes Arcturus

Wes Arcturus

Posted 28 January 2016 - 01:40 AM

Wes wasn't terribly judgmental. It was odd to him that she hadn't seen a hammer before, certainly, but he wasn't the sort of person to assume someone as stupid without knowing more first. Many people would assume Avery to be the dumbass in his own family, but that simply wasn't true in the least. In fact he was tied only with his twin and Simon for the most intelligent in the whole damn family, despite the vibe he often put off around others. Avery was a lot like her, honestly-- the type of person he'd worry about if he picked up a simple hammer.

 

His eyebrow quirked as she continued, though, her lie a bit transparent. She was embarrassed that she hadn't known. It didn't last long, however, as she was already delving into her next question, drawing more similarities with Avery than he knew possible. She didn't have time for embarrassment or negative feelings. She just kept trucking through despite how obvious he made it that he wanted to be alone.

 

At least her question had to do with something he was interested in, something he was passionate about. He wasn't one of those types of people who opened up when that sort of thing was brought into conversation, but he at least didn't feel like running for the hills when it was the topic. As much. He certainly still felt like running away, simply on the principle of "this is a social interaction with a person I do not know," but the conversation was at least a bit better than it could be. Despite being sort of negative by nature, he could at least see that.

 

"I have family to help," he answered, but otherwise he did fully intend to do it on his own. He loved working like this-- he loved feeling productive, seeing the end result. It was enough reward for him, and it was an odd way of grieving his grandparents' death that he hadn't really allowed before. It made him feel useful in a world that was difficult to live in, made his social anxieties seem manageable. He loved learning how to fix every detail of a house, how to maintain its structure, how to upgrade something but keep its original soul. This sort of work fascinated him, so the idea of doing it alone wasn't all that daunting. It would take time, certainly, and sometimes he'd have to call up a family member to help him, but it was something he was excited about more than anything else.

 

"A lot," he answered with a bit more hesitation, as he half-considered listing everything off before realizing just how many words that would be. He rarely went over, say, six word responses. That seemed like a happy medium-- one or two words left people wanting, pressing, continually asking. More than ten invited conversation. Six was right there in the middle-- short enough to be politely dismissive but still informative. Perhaps she would let him off the hook now. He could only hope.

 

After working a bit more with the ceiling, he was able to pull back the material there to reveal the water damage. The face he made then communicated everything; it was more than he originally hoped, and already the numbers were swirling around in his head. He'd have to look for another tenant or two to make this work. He was lucky to have funding via tenants to begin with, yes, but he still hated the idea of this place being even fuller. What if more sunny dispositions thought it fun to chat with him while he worked? It'd be as if he had multiple cats winding around his legs as he attempted to work-- maybe even literally, if more people brought in more cats.

 

God, he wasn't a fan of cats. Or sunny personalities that just had to bother him, like this one.


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