We Are The Sons Of Apathy (Open)

[ryan david harrison]

*Beep Beep* *Beep Beep* Ryan's weary eyes slowly pried themselves open to look at the clock that was beeping so franticly at him. 'Ugh, 9.15 already?' He slammed his hand on the large button on top of the clock and the persistent beeping ceased.

Two large legs swung themselves off towards the side of Ryan's bed, his arms stretched to their full reach and he let out a yawn that lasted quite a few seconds. 'I need more sleep.' sighed Ryan to himself as he trudged over to his wardrobe to get dressed.

Scouring the shelves for a few moments Ryan pulled out a pair of black, Doc Marten boots, Dark grey jeans and an old polo shirt of his fathers. 'Meh, this'll do.' Said Ryan as he whipped the clothes on as quick as he could.

Sat in the corner of his room was his acoustic guitar, Ryan stared at it for a moment as he planned his day, 'I think me and you are gonna go to the park for a bit.' Said Ryan to his guitar as if it was a living person, but after all, Ryan did treat his guitar like it was his own baby.

He picked up the guitar by its neck and put the strap on around his shoulders, headed out to the park and sat on the first bench.

It was a beautiful day, the sun was shining, birds singing, kids playing soccer and such sports, the occasional dog walker, this is what Ryan would call bliss.

[dimitri axel sakalov]

Dimitri knew he'd gone 'home' the night before - home being a battered apartment in the thick of the town. After all, he'd woken up on the couch. He had fleeting remembrances of the walk home, staggering down a broken sidewalk. The boy scolded himself - he would have been deported if a cop had picked him up, even though officially he was now a citizen.

It hadn't been his idea, though.

In jeans and a shirt he had probably been wearing the night before, he walked to the park, thinking the fresh air would do him good. It didn't really, considering he just saw the world of the paranoid. He glanced about, fidgeted, saw shadows where there were none. Maybe he should have stayed inside. If he had stayed home, there wouldn't be a bar to stumble in to, a pharmacy to rob.

Already he felt the itch. Addictions were hard to break, especially this one - it delved into him psychologically. In his captivity, the drugs had meant less pain, sleep. Less being awake for whatever Alex had planned. He spun, staring at a woman and child who glanced at him nervously.

Yes, he should have stayed in. He needed a distraction. When he started walking again, now on the grass of the park, he bumped into something large - some sort of case. In the frantic moment of fear, he thought it might be - god one could hide a bazooka in there - a gun case. No.

Just a guitar case. His eyes shot to the face of the owner - he looked relatively reasonable.

But hadn't Alex?

"I apologize. Not see." Dimitri's voice sounded a little gruff with his accent. He bobbed his head and rubbed his arms. "Guitar, you play?"

[ryan david harrison]

Ryan pulled a pouch of tobacco out of his pocket and slowly began to roll himself a cigarette. He looked around the park again, such a happy sight, families, friends, and one man that stood out more than most, he looked as if he was having a paranoia attack and as if he was still intoxicated by either alcohol or something alot stronger.

He lifted the cigarette to his lips as he pulled out a lighter and began to smoke, he let out one long sigh of relief, as if all his troubles had faded away within just one drag of the cigarette. Yeah he knew they'd kill him eventually and kill his voice too but he didnt care, like his mother always told him, 'live life to the full.' He even had it scratched into his guitar case.

As Ryan lent back against the bench he heard a thud and looked up, the man that looked like he was having a panic attack had just walked into the case. 'Ah it's fine mate.' Said Ryan in his heavy English accent even though he had lived here for many years. 'I'm sorry mate? you're not from round here are you?'

Ryan was quite puzzled, he didn't have a clue what this guy had just said or where he was from or if he was even allowed into this country legally. 'Is everything okay? You looked a bit dodgy back then when you were walking up.'

[dimitri axel sakalov]

Dimitri nodded several times, wondering if it were true - did cigarettes help any with stress? He immediately crushed the momentary urge. As if he didn't have enough addictions. The one obviously didn't originate from America, but then, it was hard to tell. Americans did have rather funny accents, and he hadn't quite gotten through all of them.

"Yes, I'm fine." He hadn't talked about anything since he had arrived in a America. After all, Alex had been born and raised in this country. Not to say Russia didn't have its loonies, rather ... Dimitri's mind had cracked. Agitated, Dimitri sat down, feeling by standing with his nervous movements he would only draw more attention to himself. The smoke from the cigarette smelled rather odd, but nothing he hadn't ... smelt? before.

"Dodgy?" Dimitri repeated, taking a moment to understand. Wouldn't this be fun, two goofs, neither understanding the other. Then he nodded. "Is nothing. I apologize," he repeated. "I am not from here. Russia, I move here few time ago."

He already knew he'd butchered the language, but what did he care? For a moment he wanted to tell someone, anyone, just to get the whole thing out. It hadn't amused him, although it had his family, to find a small article in a large American paper about his captivity. But that'd been a while ago, the picture old. He sat with one leg under him, glancing around nervously, and looked at the guitar again. The boy acknowledged it with a nod of his head.

"You play?" he asked again, curious. Perhaps it would act as a distraction for this person to talk. It wasn't like Dimitri to sit down with a total stranger but ... he needed some sort of distraction. And quick.

[ryan david harrison]

Ryan listened to this man very carefully as his accent was very heavy. 'Ah Russia hey? Didnt like it there i guess then?' Ryan wasnt too sure why he was making conversation with this stranger, he most likely didnt understand a word he was saying. The cigarette was raised to Ryan's lips once more and another long drag was taken. Ryan reached into his pocket and pulled out the tobacco. 'Do you want one?' he said, offering it to the Russian man.

'I'm Ryan by the way, whats your name?' As Ryan said this he reached out his arm in a gesture of a handshake. Ryan smiled as the man asked him if he played guitar. 'I play yeah, do you?'

Leaning back against the bench again Ryan stared up at the sky, not a cloud in sight, a few birds flying around but apart from that the sky was as clear as it could be.

'Beautiful day, isn't it?' said Ryan trying to make a conversation with the man. He looked down in between his fingers, his cigarette was slowly coming to an end, he took one last drag out of it and dropped it on the ground making sure it was put out he lifted his large Doc Marten boots and let them come crashing back down on top of it.

[dimitri axel sakalov]

"Нет." Dimitri shook his head and repeated in English. "No, I miss Russia." Having spent a lot of time in his house - if the battered apartment could pass for a thing - he'd spoken mostly Russian. It had been Alex who had taught him English, and Alex he wanted to forget.

As Ryan reached out, Dimitri jumped. Noticeably. He scolded himself, taking the hand with reluctance. Couldn't people hide knives on wrist sheaths? What was he thinking? He shook the hand and pulled back, thinking of how many American customs he had picked up and wondered how many of them were from Alex. He needed to change his train of thought, and quickly.

Before he did something really abnormal. Dimitri smiled and held his hands out to the side, fingers spread. "I live here now, not so bad, eh?" He let out a short, joyless laugh. For a moment Dimitri considered taking the cigarette, but then shook his head again, hands falling to the grass at his side.

"No, thank you." His accent wasn't as thick as he became more adjusted, less fearful of everything that moved. A bird churred, reminding him he was outside in far, open space. Not some dark, dank little room...Остановите это, he scolded himself. Stop that. Forcing a smile he looked up. "No, I not play, but .. it look .. " He had to think again. "Interesting, you say?" Dimitri had never been musically inclined. Most of his school years were spent studying. He didn't really care much for dramatics, music, etc, but ... it would keep the conversation going.

A thought made Dimitri laugh. "Not so cold here, in 'Merica. Russia." He mimed shivering. "Brah! Его холод! Cold!"

[ryan david harrison]

'Yeah, i guess you could call it 'Interesting' i find it fun and its a good way to pass the time.' Ryan picked up his guitar and just started to strum out a few random chords to lighten the atmosphere. 'Do you like music?'

He laughed as he spoke Russian to him. 'I'm sorry mate, I've not got a clue what that means, but i'm guessing it means fucking cold?' A large smile randomly came across Ryan's face leaving him looking somewhat like the Cheshire cat from Alice In Wonderland. 'I'm Sorry, I'm just in a good mood for some reason.'

'Sorry pal, i didn't catch your name, what is it?' If there was one thing Ryan had noticed about this man, apart from the fact he was foreign, it's that something was wrong with him, whether or not it was to do with him being under the influence of something or he was just a bit nuts, either way, Ryan kept his wits about him just in case anything happened.

'You sure everything's alright? You seem a bit weird man, you had a few drinks or something?' Ryan was determined to get information out of this guy, even if he had to get a Russian translator, he hated to see people in this kind of state and not being able to do anything about it.

[dimitri axel sakalov]

He gave another fake shudder and nodded fiercely, glad he'd gotten something across. "Yes, cold. Very," he said, looking almost grimly serious. It probably looked amused - the Russian wouldn't know. "Music, is good, sometimes. Sometimes ... " He made a face and laughed. "Not so good."

Dimitri managed a goofy smile that looked certainly more real than the others he'd tried, miming taking a drink from a mug. "Na, no drink yet. Maybe sometime. Drinks make bad music, yes?" How did one explain one was feeling edgy from withdrawal of a created drug? They'd confiscated whatever it was Alex had used, and he'd been informed later Alex had made it himself, by mixing various other medicines and other ... items. Frankly, they were surprised it hadn't killed him.

"Dimitri," the Russian said finally. "My name, Dimitri. Ryan, yes." He had never met a Ryan. Dimitri Sakalov tapped the side of his head, trying not too look to creepy in general. He wasn't exactly sure how to word what he was about to say. Perhaps ... "How say, there are ... wires. Kind of. Loose up here. Lots of things happen." He turned solemn, frowning. "Bad people in world."

He disliked spilling this to a random stranger, but it was clear Ryan wasn't going to back off. Dimitri frowned, made a few other faces that probably didn't help the whole situation. "Friend, not friend. He um. He come from here, he come to Russia to learn. But. Something wrong with him."

Dimitri shook his head. "Is nothing. Fine, I'm fine." But he wasn't. His hands shook and he finally seized clumps of grass to steady himself, looking away. The Russian didn't want to look the other in the eye.

[ryan david harrison]

Ryan sat and listened to Dimitri intensely as he told him about this 'friend' 'It's Nice to meet you Dimitri, it's fine if you dont want to tell me what's happened, i understand, after all, we've just met, i cant expect you to spill all your secrets to a stranger hey.' Ryan shifted himself so he was in a comfortable position to play guitar. He adjusted his fingers and began to strum a very recognizable riff which was every guitarists trademark riff. after a few moments he began to sing along with the guitar.

'Back beat, the word is on the street that the fire in your heart is out, i'm sure you've heard it all before but you never really had a doubt, i don't believe that anybody, feels the way i do, about you now.'

Music always made things seem better for Ryan, it helped him get through his fathers overdose, his parents divorce, his move to Trenton and now a slightly awkward situation with a Russian lunatic.

'Do you know that song, Dimitri?' Asked Ryan attempting to keep a stable conversation going in hope to befriend this guy. As anxious as Ryan was about Dimitri there was something about him that he liked, of course Ryan is just friendly to everyone but for some reason he wanted to try and get along with this guy as much as he could

[dimitri axel sakalov]

To the stream of words Dimitri simply nodded and muttered a quiet thanks. He seemed to have slipped away, at least momentarily. (ooc: SLIGHTLY AWKWARD LOLOL) The words were unfamiliar, but he remained quiet until Ryan had finished playing. It had a nice sound. Rather calming. Maybe I should get one, he thought, chewing his lip. What ever bit of insanity that had been present for the last few minutes seemed to have faded. He looked remarkably sane.

But for how long?

A breeze rustled, making him shiver. Alive, alive. "S'good song, but I not know it. Not much music I know here," Dimitri said. It was probably the clearest thing he'd said since he had gotten here, but ... Ryan still seemed to get confused a lot. The Russian would work on his English later, perhaps. "Heh, the clubs, they play loud music. Makes it hard to hear, yes?"

He thought it immensely funny that people went to these clubs to socialize, but then they couldn't hear a damn thing. One had to shout to be heard over the pounding music. Sometimes they wrote back and forth on napkins, but Dimitri's writing was only slightly better than his speaking.

"You go to the school here?" Dimitri turned his head to look across the park. There. Standing under a cluster of trees and figure in a black hoodie stared across at them. He blinked and it was gone. Seeing things again. The boy realized he had tensed up at the mirage, and tried to force himself to relax. What an oxymoronic sentence.

A squirrel made him jump as it darted past and up the tree, just a small start compared to the crap he had been pulling. A beat later there was a sharp crack, and something pricked his hand. Dimitri let out a stream of swears, all in his native tongue and scrambled away.

It was a stick. Just a stick. A nervous laugh bubbled in his throat. "So stupid," he murmured, throwing it away. the squirrel must have broken it.