Post by Bramble Lavender on Oct 21, 2024 7:41:45 GMT -5
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[attr="class","Bramblelightpostlyric"]If you ever plan to motor west[break]
Travel my way, take the highway that is best
Travel my way, take the highway that is best
[attr="class","Bramblelight2postingbox"][break]
The car door slammed, tires squealed, and Bramble was left on the curb.[break][break]
He didn’t move immediately. There had been times when she’d circled back and scolded him for wandering off; he knew to wait for five minutes. But certain context clues implied she wouldn't be returning and hinted what she wanted him to do instead, so he turned around and made his way inside the ticket office.[break][break]
According to signage, the coach journey to Los Eurosia would take eight hours. All he had in his pockets was his phone, his wallet, and a standard ballpoint pen, and (not for the first time) opening his wallet revealed his cards had gone missing. Yet he had enough cash on hand to buy a ticket and still have two dollars to spare, and with his bags still in the car that Chloe drove off in, he didn’t have to pay extra for luggage holding. A bargain, really.[break][break]
The mid-morning sun was well on its slow rise upwards when the coach for Los Eurosia was finally ready to depart. Chatter and the rumble of engines filled the air, interspersed with the occasional beep of a departing vehicle, and Bramble occupied himself with surreptitiously observing the other passengers in his queue. Some (including a small party of elderly vacationers) were buzzing at the prospect of their next adventure. Others (mostly solo travellers like Bramble) appeared incredibly bored, perhaps preparing for a journey they’d taken many times before. Almost all the passengers, regardless of whether they were alone or in a group, clutched rucksacks, handbags, and/or suitcase handles, while Bramble stood in line with only his ticket to keep him company.[break][break]
Soon he was stepping up to the driver, a man who smiled but did not engage in small talk with any of the passengers, and his quick nod was at once his friendly permission to climb onboard and a curt dismissal—a yes, yes, run along now, we’ve got places to be.[break][break]
The fabric-covered seats were arranged in the usual two-by-two formation, the sight of them a jarring reminder that Bramble was likely to be paired with a stranger. It was far too easy to imagine being seated with one of the chatty elders outside, putting a downer on their trip and becoming the source of their increasing ire when he failed to engage with the excitement they wanted him to. He'd be stuck with nowhere to escape while they huffed loudly to their companions about the rude or awkward millennial they had the misfortune of being placed with, about men not being raised to be real men anymore… [break][break]
Still, he reminded himself to focus on the positives. Like… armrests. And the legroom was definitely better than most planes he’d been on; his knees shouldn’t be pressed against the seat in front. Translucent curtains could be drawn across the windows if the sun glared too bright. A lack of onboard restroom meant there shouldn’t be any unpleasant smells trapped on the vehicle and also guaranteed there’d be stops to stretch his limbs. And there were power outlets, too, so if his phone battery drained he could probably ask to borrow someone’s charger, as awkward as that would be.[break][break]
Other passengers slowed his progress down the narrow aisle as they stowed their belongings and settled into their seats. He was glad to finally reach his own row number, ready to hunker down and be out of the way until the first break, except a man a little taller than him was trying to put his luggage in the overhead compartment, stopping Bramble in his tracks once more.[break][break]
Slipping past him into the seat wasn’t an option. Not without getting weirdly close and displaying a childish level of impatience. And besides, what if the guy needed the window to prevent travel sickness? He got there first. He ought to have the choice.[break][break]
Bramble looked out the window in question, pretending to be interested in the external scenery so he wouldn’t be staring the man down like a psychopath while he waited. It was a relief that he wouldn’t be sharing a space with one of the elders after all. Assigning an age to someone with facial hair was something he found difficult, but the man wasn’t grey, allowing Bramble to presume he was young enough to potentially put headphones in. Maybe do some work on a laptop or read a book.[break][break]
The sounds of rustling and bumping persisted, and from the corner of his eye, Bramble saw the man’s arms were still raised as he tried to manoeuvre his belongings into the hold. It was the angle that was causing difficulty; Bramble could tell without needing to turn his head. But he imagined it wouldn’t be so obvious from the man’s position. Or, maybe it was, but the case was too heavy to lift into the correct one?[break][break]
Bramble hesitated, his knowledge of how to help warring with his tried-and-true instinct of minding his own business. He was happy to wait while the man figured out a solution, but he was acutely aware of the growing line behind him who might not be so patient, and maybe the man felt uncomfortable about struggling while also feeling multiple pairs of eyes on him.[break][break]
Interfering might be for the best, in this scenario.[break][break]
“Hey, I think it needs to—” Bramble cut himself off, his hands hovering in an attempt to mime how the man should raise his belongings, but he realised he couldn’t rightly tell him to ‘lift it more from this end’ since that was exactly what the man appeared to be trying to do. It would only come across as condescending.[break][break]
He offered a quick, close-lipped smile as he risked stepping forward to place his own hand beneath one end of the luggage, lifting just enough to straighten it out and allow it to slide onto the shelf.[break][break]
He retreated swiftly, careful not to bump into the person behind him in the process. “There. Sorry, I should have asked. But it was easier to just, do.” And before the man could have snapped back with something like ‘yeah, you should have asked,’ Bramble changed the subject, hoping to make up for any offence he may have caused before it could truly set in. “Do you want the…” He gestured vaguely to the seats assigned to them. “Window seat? Or the aisle?”[break][break]
OOC: Mirror try not to add unnecessary scenario context/details challenge!! (impossible) (failed) (this is after cutting it down a bunch). Let me know if you'd like any changes~
[break][break]
The car door slammed, tires squealed, and Bramble was left on the curb.[break][break]
He didn’t move immediately. There had been times when she’d circled back and scolded him for wandering off; he knew to wait for five minutes. But certain context clues implied she wouldn't be returning and hinted what she wanted him to do instead, so he turned around and made his way inside the ticket office.[break][break]
According to signage, the coach journey to Los Eurosia would take eight hours. All he had in his pockets was his phone, his wallet, and a standard ballpoint pen, and (not for the first time) opening his wallet revealed his cards had gone missing. Yet he had enough cash on hand to buy a ticket and still have two dollars to spare, and with his bags still in the car that Chloe drove off in, he didn’t have to pay extra for luggage holding. A bargain, really.[break][break]
The mid-morning sun was well on its slow rise upwards when the coach for Los Eurosia was finally ready to depart. Chatter and the rumble of engines filled the air, interspersed with the occasional beep of a departing vehicle, and Bramble occupied himself with surreptitiously observing the other passengers in his queue. Some (including a small party of elderly vacationers) were buzzing at the prospect of their next adventure. Others (mostly solo travellers like Bramble) appeared incredibly bored, perhaps preparing for a journey they’d taken many times before. Almost all the passengers, regardless of whether they were alone or in a group, clutched rucksacks, handbags, and/or suitcase handles, while Bramble stood in line with only his ticket to keep him company.[break][break]
Soon he was stepping up to the driver, a man who smiled but did not engage in small talk with any of the passengers, and his quick nod was at once his friendly permission to climb onboard and a curt dismissal—a yes, yes, run along now, we’ve got places to be.[break][break]
The fabric-covered seats were arranged in the usual two-by-two formation, the sight of them a jarring reminder that Bramble was likely to be paired with a stranger. It was far too easy to imagine being seated with one of the chatty elders outside, putting a downer on their trip and becoming the source of their increasing ire when he failed to engage with the excitement they wanted him to. He'd be stuck with nowhere to escape while they huffed loudly to their companions about the rude or awkward millennial they had the misfortune of being placed with, about men not being raised to be real men anymore… [break][break]
Still, he reminded himself to focus on the positives. Like… armrests. And the legroom was definitely better than most planes he’d been on; his knees shouldn’t be pressed against the seat in front. Translucent curtains could be drawn across the windows if the sun glared too bright. A lack of onboard restroom meant there shouldn’t be any unpleasant smells trapped on the vehicle and also guaranteed there’d be stops to stretch his limbs. And there were power outlets, too, so if his phone battery drained he could probably ask to borrow someone’s charger, as awkward as that would be.[break][break]
Other passengers slowed his progress down the narrow aisle as they stowed their belongings and settled into their seats. He was glad to finally reach his own row number, ready to hunker down and be out of the way until the first break, except a man a little taller than him was trying to put his luggage in the overhead compartment, stopping Bramble in his tracks once more.[break][break]
Slipping past him into the seat wasn’t an option. Not without getting weirdly close and displaying a childish level of impatience. And besides, what if the guy needed the window to prevent travel sickness? He got there first. He ought to have the choice.[break][break]
Bramble looked out the window in question, pretending to be interested in the external scenery so he wouldn’t be staring the man down like a psychopath while he waited. It was a relief that he wouldn’t be sharing a space with one of the elders after all. Assigning an age to someone with facial hair was something he found difficult, but the man wasn’t grey, allowing Bramble to presume he was young enough to potentially put headphones in. Maybe do some work on a laptop or read a book.[break][break]
The sounds of rustling and bumping persisted, and from the corner of his eye, Bramble saw the man’s arms were still raised as he tried to manoeuvre his belongings into the hold. It was the angle that was causing difficulty; Bramble could tell without needing to turn his head. But he imagined it wouldn’t be so obvious from the man’s position. Or, maybe it was, but the case was too heavy to lift into the correct one?[break][break]
Bramble hesitated, his knowledge of how to help warring with his tried-and-true instinct of minding his own business. He was happy to wait while the man figured out a solution, but he was acutely aware of the growing line behind him who might not be so patient, and maybe the man felt uncomfortable about struggling while also feeling multiple pairs of eyes on him.[break][break]
Interfering might be for the best, in this scenario.[break][break]
“Hey, I think it needs to—” Bramble cut himself off, his hands hovering in an attempt to mime how the man should raise his belongings, but he realised he couldn’t rightly tell him to ‘lift it more from this end’ since that was exactly what the man appeared to be trying to do. It would only come across as condescending.[break][break]
He offered a quick, close-lipped smile as he risked stepping forward to place his own hand beneath one end of the luggage, lifting just enough to straighten it out and allow it to slide onto the shelf.[break][break]
He retreated swiftly, careful not to bump into the person behind him in the process. “There. Sorry, I should have asked. But it was easier to just, do.” And before the man could have snapped back with something like ‘yeah, you should have asked,’ Bramble changed the subject, hoping to make up for any offence he may have caused before it could truly set in. “Do you want the…” He gestured vaguely to the seats assigned to them. “Window seat? Or the aisle?”[break][break]
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[break][break]OOC: Mirror try not to add unnecessary scenario context/details challenge!! (impossible) (failed) (this is after cutting it down a bunch). Let me know if you'd like any changes~
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[attr="class","BramblelightPostTag"]Tag: Alexis Yearling
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