His Quest for Raine

Changes

==========Kristin

==========

It’s fair to say that she’s most likely the reason this coffee place stays in business. If she could swing it, she would live there. It was such a low key, comforting space as it was originally someone’s living room. It housed its own library, which the town donated to. Even aspiring authors were given their starts there where they signed what they created before putting it on the shelf. 

Aggie Shaffer, the original owner, worked tirelessly until she was forced to retire several years before the event took people. It was better that way. Her health was failing and at least she could see it live on before going off into the great unknown. 

The people “own” it now. Townsfolk that have disappeared had become donors of perishable goods to keep the eateries going, as enforced by the guard. Pushback was nearly nonexistent given their numbers and knowing full well that they would be able to reclaim the town and it’s staples if they decided it was in the nation’s best interest to remove them from the equation. It was simply better to listen. 

As the people banded together, coffee and other groceries were split between establishments, which meant that they would be forcing people out of their homes to eat at every meal. It was a way to count them, she figured. The fact that they were sickened her. There weren’t any more freak outs, no more claiming wild prophecies… instead people watched out for each other. They went along with their daily routines. They showed up for their meals as if that was a normal thing to do anywhere else. They were on the alert each time a change in their schedule was made, whether it was for grocery deliveries or a guard changed his positioning in their shifts. 

Some took on the friendlier banter, dying for any type of socialization relief, while others, like herself, kept her nose down in her books or looked off in any direction to daydream in the chaos of their own minds. 

Kristin folded herself over her steaming hot coffee, nearly as blonde as she used to be, while she took in the steam that soothed her past her most recent changes. The busboy today was a youngster she used to babysit for Ethan, who was a troublemaker from the start, always busting her for something, simply slid her napkin off of her coffee which splashed just enough to tinge her papers below. Deep down she knew he was looking for anything to report on, but she left her doodles open to interpretation. 

She wants to ask if he found what he was looking for, but he beat her to the punch before she had a chance to respond. 

“Interesting choice,” Ethan said nodding at the color of her hair. 

“Is it?” she asked, curiously. 

“I mean,” his voice seemed to c***k as he spoke now. “With the whole town avoiding black, you would think you would have gotten the memo.”

Kristin grimaced at the thought but in all honesty, it was to hold onto one of the people she wished she got closer to when they had a chance. Peter was charming and nice to her and she didn’t really try to understand why. She figured he was nice to everyone, equally; that she didn’t really hold a flame to his. He just deserved more than she could give, or at least that’s how she felt back then… back when the town openly exiled him for not changing. 

He still got fed but at different times than the rest of them. He still got to live at home, in the same one he grew up in, but if he came out like the rest of them, he would be cited and returned to his place of origin with force.

“I don’t see how brown hair should affect you enough to bring it up,” she challenged. 

“It’s not brown,” he countered, bringing more attention to the table.

“Bleach burns and I’m not about to change my hair just because you can’t see brown,” Kristin muttered. 

She knew it was dark. The box said brown but she can’t be held accountable if the dye was dark, or if she purposely added food coloring to it to darken it, right? She wasn’t harboring the pain of change in a hair color, was she? Nah that's nonsense. She just… really liked the color brown, that was it. It had nothing to do with holding on to Peter or pretending he was near just because of that. 

It would make her seem crazy. 

Crazy enough to take. 

Kristin swallowed at the very fact. 

“It’s not just me,” he sighed. “Just hope it washes out before they become concerned and remove you just to be on the safe side.”

His message came grimly as if she knew it would be over soon. They’d claim another person. Free another space… 

“Well I just did it, so…” Kristen replied, allowing her implication to slide away from her, as if she was tipping the boy for cleaning up. 

By the time the boy turned away from her she realized what his name was, Joseph. Her memory jogged back to the easier days where dropping a bowl of cereal or stopping him and his sister from their screaming matches was considered hard. Joseph, though, as snarky as he could be, was alright. He worked since he was able. His height didn’t seem to help him stock the shelves that the shop kept in plain sight against the wall by what used to be the main check out. Since the siege, it was primarily used as a bar to serve those quick spots. People like her didn’t bother sitting there, ever. She had too much stuff and hoped to remain in her spot as long as she could, rather than going home. 

Being out in the open meant she had a better chance to catch a change, even if it was a passing shower or even see Peter, just for the briefest of moments, pass by or even come in. She used to dream of the day he’d make eye contact with her again. Maybe even see him smile. 

Kristin frowned at that. Smiling seemed to be a thing of the past too. People were hardened now in a way that when they were present, no one knew how to respond. 

It was sad, the thought, then carefully rested her fingertips around her mug, before looking back up to set her sights back out through the window. 

=======

Raine

=======

Raine stood in the doorway still wondering whether or not she should move from it. 

What were those soldiers doing here? What happened to this place? Is the difference she felt in Nerranne what had happened here? 

Raine places her hands on her cheeks as an effort to try to focus. It’s a small victory that she’s even on the ground after that welcome wagon. She reminds herself that she’s not really human or otherwise and that it would have been fine, but too much has happened, too close together, and all she wants to do is cry. 

What if Melchoir was right? What if she never gets to see them again? What if she’s lost here in this mess?

Her stress claws its way through her chest, nearly as panicked as she feels. The thought is simply too intense to bear, and so she settles herself, sliding her back down against the door she rests on. There she huddles up in a small ball and rubs her temples on either side of her head methodically with her middle fingers. 

It used to be something she would watch Peter do and wonder if it was helpful at all. 

In this case, it only felt like more pressure which ended her administrations before she really started them. 

Raine wondered idly if Nerranne did this. If it had the outreach past its borders to ruin the surrounding areas. She wondered if it was poisoning her home, if the people were alright… she frowned at herself wondering just where everyone was exactly. 

Her hometown was usually bustling at all times of year. While it was small, it was unified. People were out and about all the time, well into the night and started up again early in the morning. They had ranches to run on the outskirts, farms, lots of loading ground, plenty of movement all the time that the quietness around her made the energy just under her skin surge. It felt just as off as being here did. 

She sighed heavily and pushed back up to her feet to realize where she was specifically to gain her whereabouts before reaching out for the nearest powerline, disappearing into the night.