[PRP] For Every Puzzle, a Solution (Julian & Horace)

[The Semblance of Unity]

Horace had been trying out every single coffee shop in Ashdown. It was his mission, he decided, to find the best cup of normal-brew coffee. Nothing fancy, not espresso - just regular coffee. So far, he'd had more burnt coffee than his tongue would like to remember. But, this all explained why he found himself in a particularly pretentious looking shop, full of hipsters and with some indie Canadian band playing over the speakers. Some had laptops and computers out (one guy, he noted, had a word document up titled 'NOVEL' in bold 26 point font), some had books, one guy was even jigsaw puzzling.

He sipped his coffee again. It was okay, he decided; nothing stellar, but acceptable. That ad the crowded feel of the shop ensured he probably wouldn't be back. Then, his wandering eyes caught sight of a puzzle piece on the floor. And another a few inches away. He stood, coffee in one hand, and scooped up the pieces. Guess it was time to socialize.

"Hey - are there yours?"

cibarium

 

[cibarium]

Yes, Julian was jigsaw puzzling. It wasn't even one of the puzzles kept in the cafe. He'd brought it, and given it was about two thirds done he must have been there working on it for a few hours. The fact he'd decided to go outside at all meant he was having a decent day, though, and for once he was able to not turn into a flustery wreck upon being approached.

Noting the pieces Horace had gathered, he answered, "Maybe."

Then he waited expectantly for a few long seconds.

After glancing back between the table and his guest, he clarified: "If you want to try. Or leaving them is fine."

the semblance of unity

 

[The Semblance of Unity]

The pause after the 'maybe' was hellaciously long and Horace felt his eyebrows crept towards his hairline. Okay, so everyone wasn't socially inclined, but society had it's niceties and - he spoke again. After a moment, Horace shrugged and sat down.

"Hey. I'm Horace. So.. what's puzzle supposed to look like at the end?" Just because it was two thirds complete didn't mean that Horace could visualize the rest. He was kind of shitty at that.

cibarium

 

[cibarium]

Julian tried not to think too much about how long he'd paused between words, which meant he was going to keep thinking about it for the rest of the day and probably randomly remember it whenever he was wanting for a reason to feel like a bad person. For now though, he focused on the puzzle, which definitely looked like a colorful lump of nothing going only on the pieces that were in place. Looking back up at Horace, he clarified, "It's a pigeon."

He liked filling in the faces last because that was his favorite part. Not that he was going to mention that to his table guest. Also, Horace was probably expecting him to return the introduction, but it had already been like eight seconds, and ******** ******** ******** Julian."

the semblance of unity

 

[The Semblance of Unity]

"Weird pigeon, must be art." He put his elbows on the table, careful not to knock off any other pieces. After a few moments, he reached across and tried to snap a piece in place, frowning when it didn't fit.

He turned in around in his fingers. Keeping his eyes on the puzzle, he said: "Hi Julian. Do you do puzzles here often? Ugh, not there either." Another not quite right match.

cibarium

 

[cibarium]

"It'll make more sense once the face pieces are in," Julian assured. Then he held up one of the scattered pieces nearest to his hand for Horace to see: it contained more green and two thirds of a lovingly-painted eye.

He reached out to push it into place, and their fingers accidentally touched a little.

Julian realized he was going to die here.

the semblance of unity

 

[The Semblance of Unity]

Horace leaned forward to look at the piece, nodding as though Julian were imparting some great wisdom. Then their fingers brushed. He jerked his hand back, wide-eyed. Snatching his hand up to his chest, Horace absently began to rub the white scar around the fourth finger of his left hand.

"Uh, uh, yeah, I guess. Are you... doing the faces last?" Normal, remember to breathe and shake off the feeling, he told himself.

cibarium

 

[cibarium]

Julian's eyes widened and his neutral-dour expression stretched into a genuine frown, shocked and immediately guilty at the consequences of the accidental touch. "s**t... sorry," he offered while conscientiously pulling his own hand back out of the way. Hopefully it didn't seem disingenuous.

"Yes. It's so I'm not stuck with all the boring pieces when it's almost finished." That was more or less true, at least. "Are you from here?"

the semblance of unity

 

[The Semblance of Unity]

"Um," he said awkwardly. "It's ok - you just startled me, is all." It was bit more than that, but this was the easiest way to both save face and grace.

"But the 'boring' pieces are the most challenging, right? My grandma used to do puzzles, but strictly from the outside in, like a pinwheel." He paused, then snapped a piece correctly into place. "And no, not from here - though I've lived here for a couple years. Are you an Ashdownian or whatever they're called?"

cibarium

 

[cibarium]

"Yes, they are," Julian agreed. "That makes the easier pieces a reward. And it's also harder to see the whole picture until the very end... and that all makes the end of the puzzle more fun."

That was the most he'd spoken in one go so far in this conversation. About jigsaw puzzle strategy, no less. Did that make him weird? Horace probably thought he was weird now.

"No, I'm from..." he took a second to claim a hometown, "Chicago. My aunts have been here for a long time, though. It was easier than I expected to get used to all the supernatural s**t."

the semblance of unity

 

[The Semblance of Unity]

"I think," he said slowly, eyes scanning the puzzle. "I would work in a grid. Like complete the outline, then the bottom left corner, the bottom right, etc." Horace looked up and smiled. "I think it'd be easier, though I guess that's not really the point of puzzles."

He pushed up his glasses and gave Julian an odd look. Not about Chicago, no - but the second half. "Supernatural s**t?" he said casually.

cibarium

 

[cibarium]

"Is... that an offensive way to put it?" asked Julian, oblivious to the idea there might be people living in Ashdown who weren't privy to the supernatural s**t.

the semblance of unity

 

[The Semblance of Unity]

"I hope not!" He laughed. "Profanity might make up at least twenty five percent of my vocabulary." Another puzzle piece snapped into place.

"I was just curious like... what kind of supernatural s**t?"

cibarium

 

[cibarium]

"I know more than one shapeshifter," Julian offered as an example.

the semblance of unity

 

[The Semblance of Unity]

He almost dropped a puzzle piece. "What - like werewolves?" That was definitely something he'd not heard of - though the term had been bandied about on sensationalist news sites when the CDC was called into Blackfriar's.

cibarium