Andy- 'Lonely'

Who: Andy, Rufus
Where: Blue Dwarf, science deck
When: 10 minutes after previous post
<Snip>
Snatching up the can (of tea) he finally strolled up to the door to
Rufus's lab. Ablaze upon the front in big bold letters were `WORK IN
PROGRESS, DO NOT DISTURB'. Under them in slighter smaller print was `-
this means you!'
Andy coughed and leaned forward before soundly rapping his knuckles on
the metal door. He only hoped that Rufus didn't take after his sister
when he was finally pushed over.
<End Snip>
Andy paused in front of the door for a prolonged period of time.
Staring, almost willing the door to open. The can of caffeinated tea
in his hand had long since grown lukewarm, not that the
temperature-challenged cleaner would have actually noticed. The
Cleaner's knuckles began to ache from constantly rapping against the
door. It was only now that Andy realised that he wasn't completely
sure as to why he had actually came up here in the first place. He
didn't really NEED anything from the boy. He didn't particularly want
to get the boy to come down with him to Parrott's bar and get smashed,
either. Should Amber ever find out, it highly suspected that she would
attach balloons to him, shoot him out of an air lock and proceed to
use him as target practice. Amber was a scary, scary woman.
Over the constant clatter the man was also beginning to wonder if the
boy was deaf.
So came down to one thing. He was here for him. Why? Oh yeah, his mum
just died. A slight pause extended over Andy's mind. How could an
orphan possibly console a boy whose mother had just died? Andy didn't
even know what it was like to have a mum. They were a fanciful thing
to him; ever-loving, ever-giving, ever-patient. They were everything
that he never had as growing up, the ultimate refuge. So how possibly
could a cleaner who 70 % of the time smelt like he lived in a pig pen,
ever hope to comfort a boy over what he had lost? Unless the answer
was that he didn't really know how to, he just wanted to… and maybe,
just maybe, Rufus would have told him what a real mother was like…
In a blink of an eye the door vanished and the cleaner continued to
absent minded-ly paw at the air. A full 10 seconds passed before he
realised that he'd not been knocking on anything.
It was in that space of time that the thoroughly shelled-out face of
Rufus appeared in front of him. The boy's lab looked only lightly more
hospitable than a black hole, or an Emo house-warming party. From the
few metres of which he could see was only trash littered on the floor
and a few blinking lights. Out from the corner of his eye he noticed a
bright source of light but when he tried to get a better view he was
quickly and subtly blocked by Rufus's hand resting on the door frame.
"Ah…" Andy mumbled as he finally laid eyes on the boy. "Took you long
enough." The cleaner added. Rufus raised an agitated eyebrow before
stating. "…The door is sound proof…" pointing towards a door bell and
just above it, a camera.
"…Oh…so all that knocking?" Andy ventured only to be confirmed by
Rufus's sleepy nod.
An awkward silence ensued.
"…Is there a reason why you're here?" Rufus broke the pause. "Yeah, I
well, think…" Andy began to stutter in response, dammit, what was
wrong with him? "Ahhh… do you want to talk? About; what happened a few
days ago?" The cleaner couldn't understand why he was having such a
hard time getting the words to come out. Perhaps it was the
emotionless, yet determined look in Rufus's eye that gave him the look
of the undead. Then again it could be that just south of the
teenager's eyes where bags that looked deeper than a super-models
`lightly packed' luggage.
"No Andy… I don't want to talk." Rufus wanted to say a lot more to
Andy, and none of it was flattering. He suspected that offending him
would just make him stay longer. "Are you sure…? Because after that I
don't think it's good to be left alone…" Andy was now just picking
excuses off the top of his head. Pulling clichés out of old 20th
century movies that he'd watched out the front of TV-display shops.
"Listen, Anthony, Andrew- whatever. If I want to talk about my mum to
some I'll talk to someone that has actually met her, and has known me
for more than 12 hours. If that's all then I have actual work to do."
With brief rebuttal the door was closed.
Andy was left alone in the corridor, can of tea still in hand. A heavy
emotion lay upon the cleaner's heart. For a moment he wondered should
he knock again but he knew better than to force his way into people's
homes. Especially when they made it clear that they didn't want to talk.
Andy breathed a sigh and walked back down the corridor. What a great
start to a great day.
Pressing on the elevator call sign, the cleaner leaned against the
side of the door and stared sightlessly up towards the ceiling.
He wasn't angry at the boy. He couldn't possibly be angry at him.
Rufus had every right to tell him to piss off. No, Andy realised the
real reason why he had journeyed up to the science deck.
He was lonely.
The cleaner had hoped that somehow the boy would also be lonely enough
that he would have let this stranger in his company. He was wrong. The
boy didn't want company, he wanted solitude.
~~
Who: Andy
Where: Blue Dwarf, Promenade
When: day of crew's break
The lift gave a long `boon' noise and the thick metal doors slid open.
Andy crawled into the empty lift and entered the level to the
promenade. He wanted to get drunk; now.
His skutters made for good company, 099 was nurturing, 001 was fun,
and 042… was just company. But for the past week they had been working
like maniac accountants. Any time they shared was in the company of
filth, a broom and a bucket.
`Promenade level'. Holly's voice announced, not even asking about the
cleaner's endeavours and simply letting him on his way.
The promenade was in ruins, sheer chaos. So nothing had changed much.
Theft was at an all time high. Mostly because everything that was on a
table was no longer on a table. Andy simply mused that if they stole
something like a broken toilet brush, then hell, they needed more than
the merchant ever did.
The cleaner's eyes suddenly rested upon a hobo lying in the side
street. The Australian man had seen quite a few of them aboard Blue
Dwarf. In a way they reminded him of himself. Andy had spent quite a
few nights on a park bench, clutching some filth ridden blanket for
warmth. That where the similarly ended though.
Andy always had a way to dig his way out of such a situation before it
consumed him. Be it honest work or thievery.
Andy stopped in front of the homeless man and set the can of tea in
front of him. "Here." The cleaner mumbled. "It'll keep the cold off
for a while." He carried one down the street.
Not 20 seconds after his act of kindness he felt an explosion of pain
in the back of his head. The back hairs of his neck began to tickle as
he felt a liquid, that he highly doubted was water, trickle down from
the wound.
Turning back he found the mangled can roll away from him. That bastard
just threw that can back at him!! "What the hell is wrong with you?!"
The cleaner snarled.
"I don't want a bloody drink of tea. I want money, you idiot!" The
hobo's scratchy voice horsed back at the cleaner.
That was it.
The cleaner had seen his fair share of hobo fights and participated in
an equal number of them. Andy cracked his knuckles and approached the
bum with murder in his eyes.
~~
Andy kicked the door of Parrott's bar. Multiple cuts and bruises
adorned his face. Despite that homeless guy having approximately less
than half of Andy's average food intake (and that was saying
something) he still managed to hand his arse back to him on a silver
platter.
Particles of shattered glass littered the ground like sand. A small
yellow, double legged warning sign was labelled `caution: glass
fragments'. Upon the sign a surprisingly graphic stick man clutching
one of his feet, hopping on the other, all the while red liquid
squirted out of both.
Fortunately, Parrott's bar wasn't particularly well ventilated so he
was practically drunk already.
The cleaner pushed and shoved past the writhing mass of people dancing
(either that or they were all having consecutive seizures) and
collapsed upon a bar stool. His face jerked forward and slumped onto a
cold bar rag. He quickly snatched a passing cold glass of beer and
held it against the egg steadily growing on his forehead.
A strange feeling that he had somehow meant to meet someone here in
this god-forsaken bar came and went.
Andy just decided to chalk this one up to yet another one of his worst
days of his life.
<Tag- awww… Andy is feeling Emo>
OOC: Sorry! I didn't realise that the whole crew was getting a break
on this day. Disregard my last post's time and having most of the crew
cleaning.