[prp] the dog days are over (daws/alois) | Page 1 | ashdown | Guild Forums

medigel

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Posted: Wed Sep 21, 2016 12:50 pm


	Far be it from Dawson to judge without knowing the full story. He'd worked strange jobs before barely knowing the boss' first name; money truly was the grease that let him slip by. But dogsitting Schatzie was different because, well, a dog was involved, and when a dog owner started to act strange, he couldn't help but feel curious. It turned to worry the more Alois foisted the German Shepard onto him without a care. Dawson had gotten the distinct feeling that Schatzie would have probably been the only one named in the will had Alois died. It was probably a bad thing to even think about, worse when the weekly texts about said job stopped. Dawson was already a worrier; now there was a dog involved. He waited as long as he could before finally cracking. Hetzerei Text to Alowis: hey dude uh i havent heard in a bit r u ok?

Posted: Sun Sep 25, 2016 1:21 am


	Alois found himself spending most of his days in sleep, where his mind found more amenable territory. He knew, from books and papers and video blogs, that the brain suffered great tribulation in parsing fiction from fact - the dream realms experienced elicited just as much response from him as the realities he faced not long ago. And thus, he embarked on a nontraditional sleep cycle, half-induced with the aid of Lunesta and remeron and other sleep aids that he could find. Even Zzz-Quil found its home in his otherwise sparse medicine cabinet, and he found no qualm against it. But since his visit to the hospital, he found himself feverishly unable to sleep. Each time he laid down, his body stubbornly refused to commit to dreaming. Awake he lay in early hours at times, considering his experiences on morphine or reflecting on the pain still coursing through his arm or reciting the last words of his Father in his mind as a mantra meant for lulling. Nothing worked. So, with little else available to him in the vast and empty apartment, he got up and paced. And pace he did, the cold concrete chilling the soles of his feet as he made the fifth round about the perimeter of the space. Little remained to impede his path with no furniture other than his bed and the haphazardly assembled cinderblock desk. The rest of the warehouse was organized using sheetrock walls constructed to separate the area, and mostly they formed decorative or privacy walls at that. They were easy enough to pass, and he worked diligently to work them into his pacing routine when his cell phone startled him with the familiar clang of church bells against synth melodies. His pace finished at his usual gait and he reached his phone with little hurry. The number and name, he found, wasn’t familiar to him. Vale must’ve saved the contact himself; Alois knew straight away that he would’ve teased the s*t out of this poor fool for bearing the name of a shitty 90s TV series. Dawson, eh? At least it’s something to do.* medigel SMS Dawson Dog was shot. Can't sleep anymore.

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medigel

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Posted: Sun Sep 25, 2016 12:16 pm


	While his phone was on, it was in sleep mode. Dawson didn't get the chance to see the text until his alarm went off for work. With heavy eyes and a deep yawn, it took him a moment to comprehend six simple words. "Jesus," he found himself murmuring, rubbing at his face. On the third read: "Jesus <******** fingers quickly pressed the dial button as he sat up in his van, half asleep, half horrified, still coming into the latter. It didn't occur to him that Alois might have found sleep in between the text and now. Hetzerei

Posted: Sun Oct 02, 2016 8:03 am


	Alois questioned a man over the disturbance - a deep, mottled green cloud cast itself over the atmosphere, forming a rancid odor and hazy mist. It had since cleared, but the fact remained that this disturbance was both highly unusual and suspicious. Alois wanted to know more. „So you think it’s because of an explosion at the nuclear power plant out east? How do you know?“ „I was there when it happened,“ the old man answered simply. „Heard a boom, then watched the cloud go over the sky. Smelled like sewer. Real nasty, clung to my nose for hours.“ „I see. Did anyone test it for radiation?“ Alois paused then, and his phone rang incessantly. He wanted to ignore it, but the sound persisted. „What do you think happened?“ Ring. Ring. Ring. Alois woke blearily, his thoughts half-on the smell of sewage. A sleepy hand shot under his pillow and felt around for a familiar shape. Finding it, he brought the phone out and answered without looking at the caller ID. „What is it?“ He asked, eyes still closed. medigel

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medigel

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Posted: Thu Oct 06, 2016 10:10 am


	"Oh, uh, hey, Alois," came the gentle Southern burr. "Daws here. Hope I didn' wake ya or nothin'. I, uh, jus' wanted t'call ya about...y'know, the ol' gal." He hesitated, trying to gauge the mood over the line. Hetzerei

Posted: Tue Oct 11, 2016 5:14 pm


	Alois sat up slowly. Legs retracted up, bony knees forming a perch for his elbow. The heel of a hand dug into his eye roughly. „… Who?“ Old gal? What old gal? Was this person talking about his mother? It wouldn’t surprise him - following his dog dying, his mother was the next step. But what good would that do for his current state? It’s not like she ever called. And then his brain caught up with the conversation. „You mean Schatzie?“ What’s there to talk about? Do people think they’re doing me favors by bringing him up? If they do, they’re deluded. or they just like hearing all the little nuances of a deep, personal pain that isn’t any of their business. It’s not like anyone here knew Schatzie like I did. It’s not like anyone played with him, or slept in bed with him, or took him for walks every morning so he could backtrack to his favorite place to st. None of these people ever had a pair of **** to rub together for me and now all of a sudden I’m on their call lists. They just want a ****** project to work on, don’t they? They want a reason to feel good about themselves. They’re doing their good deed for the day by talking to the unsocialized taxidermist with a dead dog. How nice it must be to pat yourself on the back like that. „What’s zere to talk about? He’s dead.“ medigel

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medigel

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Posted: Wed Dec 21, 2016 10:37 am


	The long pause didn't give him much to go by at all, which worried him. Alois had struck him as a man who didn't emote much to begin with, so it was hard to gauge his mood normally. Over the phone? Practically impossible, especially given that neither of them had had a good night's sleep by the sounds of it. "Yeah...M'so sawry t'hear about that, man," Dawson said softly, leaning back against the interior of his van. "I-I was jus' wonderin' if there might be somethin' I could do. I mean, Schatzie was a real gem he was. N' if yer sayin' he got shot, maybe...I dunno, we could file a police report or somethin'?" He was rambling, trying to cover all his bases. Strickenized

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