Hey, guys, do you know the concept of inertia?
It's that random thing that your physics teacher drilled into your brain as much as that tidbit about cells and powerhouses- yeah, that one?
Do you wanna see a live demonstration of it?
No?
Good! 'Cause the feeling's mutual-
"Bridger, I'm going to hurl..." Our normally chipper client interrupted, her eyes spinning just as much as the devious contraption we were on.
"Fable, please... I'm trying to distract myself with an inner monologue. Shut up..." I blurted out, holding back something from the depths of my stomach with each word.
Returning to my current coping mechanism, have you ever seen those images of humans designed for car crashes? The grotesque form they take to survive such conditions is quite the sight and one that, if seen in real life, would make most vomit-
Okay, let's not use that word. It might trigger something...
...Anyway, as such, we can infer that high-speed movements are not exactly conducive to the human experience, with rigorous training and conditioning being required to withstand such forces for even a short amount of time.
With all of this in mind, who in their right mind designed this death machine we currently find ourselves on?
The masochistic ventures of humanity will never cease to elude me.
What we were riding was a pendulum ride, fashioned to resemble a pirate ship, a commendable feat as they even managed to include seasickness in the experience.
Beyond my blurred vision and slurred thoughts, it was a genuine mess of flailing arms and grating shrieks, all accented by the cold air striking my face as we enjoyed, or more fittingly survived, the commercialized whiplash machine.
Oh God...That's enough descriptors. If I even try to look at anything other than the horizon, I might spill my stomach...
"No more, please..." Fable begged for a God who would not answer, the two of us sharing the feeling of sinking dread and rising nausea.
"Come on, Gale, while the camera's still steady." But even amidst my overwhelmed senses, a cold yet familiar voice rang through, unfazed and composed.
"Oh? Sure, lemme just..." Similarly, the young man casually straightened his sweater and leaned into the frame, photo-ready and unbothered, "My hair still looks fine, right?" He asked with not even a single strand displaced.
Now you guys are just defying physics...
And with a quaint click, the pair managed to blind us as they immortalized the scene.
"Oops, forgot to turn off the flash," Myla noted, cheerfully looking through her album with an unapologetic smile.
"I don't even have the will to get mad, so please just be a little more considerate..."
"Aww, sure thing, partner." She replied, a sugary sweetness lining her sharp sarcasm, "Oh, just got a message. Alex says he wishes he could be here."
"Well, we don't!" And as we cried out in unison, the ride began to slow, overcoming the trial with still full bellies but a renewed fear of grandfather clocks.
The swinging...Everything is still swinging...
Moving on, for a change of pace, the next spot we chose gave us complete control over our thrill, letting our fingers hold onto what fate and the laws of motion were earlier steering.
Speaking of...
I made a sharp turn, pushing my arms to twist the wheel and force the vehicle into a halting drift as its side now directly faced our opposition - sparks, and dust shooting from the friction of the maneuver.
Obligatory pop-culture reference done! Now, let's actually tell a proper story.
The arena was covered in flickering lights of ruby reds, sapphire blues, and amethyst violets that danced along the voltaic floor to the tune of high-octane music that reverberated throughout the halls and within my bones - the scene lighting up my senses that were dulled by the cold weather.
I gripped the steering wheel tight, my fingers slick with sweat and my blood boiling as I felt my temperature spike at the thought of being allowed to let loose on such a battlefield - my breaths keeping pace with the tempo of the songs.
"Wait, I thought Myla was your driver? Do you even know how to handle a car?" Pulling me from my ecstasy, Gale worriedly asked as he cautiously held on to the sides of the vehicle.
"Firstly, these are bumper cars. Second," I kicked the thing into high gear, placing a heavy foot onto the pedal and turning us around to face our opposing pair head-on, "Not having a license never stopped me from goofing around with my friends' cars when I was younger."
"Please don't say that out loud..."
But such pleads were useless as when my gaze met the amber orbs of my dance partner, all else faded away, and one thought remained in my mind - clash.
Myla's eyes narrowed, and with a quick flick of the wheel, she directly faced me as well, "Oh, you're on." And with that line as our starting pistol, she accelerated, power surging from the grid and into the dynamo of her iron steed - her passenger cheering on as she kept herself from flying off.
I met her challenge with equal vigor, digging my heel into the pedal and preparing for the head-long impact.
"Brace for impact!" I shouted, my mouth curling into a wicked smile.
"Aye, captain!" My hostage- I mean passenger replied, readying himself for the blow.
...That was until a high-pitched and reverberating sound cut our joust short, whistling through the arena and halting our advance.
"Sir, ma'am..." An overworked employee in a colorful outfit that mismatched with his energy spoke, "No head-on collisions, please." He advised, pointing to the obvious sign stuck to the chainlink walls of the space.
"Oh." We all spoke simultaneously, our hype matching our speed as it went from one hundred to zero in the blink of an eye.
"Boop." The car in front of us moved, lightly bumping into ours as Fable concluded our battle.
Moving onto the last of the main attractions, we found ourselves once again surrounded by winding fences and awaiting visitors, lined up to experience one of the more popular attractions - the water ride.
While these tended to be more favored during the summer months, even during the winter, the allure of slowly drifting down a path to take in the colorful sights from way on high was quite prevalent among parkgoers no matter the season.
Luckily, there was a good amount of boats, in this case, modeled like large leaves floating down a river, meaning that we got through the lines at a brisk pace, finding ourselves at the front in no time.
As of now, the pair found themselves in front of us, taking pictures even before they had hitched a ride, with Gale admittedly looking a bit winded after being dragged around for the day.
"How's it gone so far? Good 'ya think-thunk?" I subtly typed into my phone, sending it as I eyed my partner's reply from over her shoulder.
"It seems that way. Good work being friendly." She quickly typed, sending it to me with a flick of her fingers.
I smiled slightly, appreciating the reassurance and returning my eyes to our clients as the line inched forward again. That was until I felt my phone vibrate in my hands.
Opening it, I read the message from the lock screen, "By the way..." it read, and instead of waiting for the following message, I stole another glance at her phone as she typed away.
"Are you having fun-" But before she could finish the text, she was suddenly pulled away, the sounds of wood creaking and water thrashing entering my ears faster than I could react.
Looking up, I was met with the equally confused expression of Gale as both his and my other half had gone missing.
"Sorry, Bridger! I'm stealing this one from you for a bit! Hope you don't get too jealous!" Shouting with plenty of vigor left in her system, the young woman waved her hands energetically at us as she drifted away - taking off her hat scarf and placing it onto the exasperated-looking face of my dear partner.
My phone vibrated again, just as they went through the dark tunnel and out of sight, "Never mind. See you on the other side." And while I couldn't fully read what she was typing earlier, I felt strangely upset.
Best not to pay it much mind. Remember, when faced with the opportunity to overthink, just don't think. That's my motto in life. Okay, it sounds a lot worse in my head. Wait, that usually goes some other way.
I shook myself awake from my thoughts, taking in a breath of the dry air and sighing to myself - the sound of my weariness lining up with the chime of our ride arriving to greet us - chipped green paint and a lightly discolored hull as it waded through the waters without pause.
"So, uhm..." The young man ahead of me spoke, placing a foot into the vessel as he gave me a hesitant look, "Let's go..?"
"It seems that way." I returned, stepping forward and placing myself comfortably next to him.
I kid. The seat's wet, it's cold, the boat feels like it'll fall apart any second, and I'm pretty sure the sides of this thing haven't been sanitized since last week. With that being said, onward, mighty steed of the waves!
We began our voyage on the concerningly murky tides with little but the sounds of parting waves and thematic music accompanying us. It was, after all, a ride where the earlier thrills and screams were absent, leaving nothing to distract us from the listless air that still covered mine and Gale's combined presence.
Hey, kids! Let's play everyone's favorite game, conflict avoidance! Guaranteed to give you unending fun and social anxiety!
My senses ignored the awkward atmosphere as my eyes began to scan the surrounding area in all its deteriorating glory. It was themed around a sort of jungle river expedition, with you and your shipmate traversing the lush wilderness on a verdant and buoyant leaf, whisked away to who knows where by the current as wildlife, clear skies, and the scent of petrichor all served your senses on the natural cruise.
I may jest that the place looks run down, but it still was well put together. The canopies of trees and painted ceilings within the tunnel were pleasing to the eyes if you didn't intentionally pick apart their quality - and the atmosphere created by the gentle rocking of the boat and soothing ambiance played on the many hidden speakers created an experience that would undoubtedly be quite memorable.
Hell, these places are also designed to be romantic - taking in the sights and sounds as you're delicately cradled through a hall of fantasy with the person you love does sound rather enticing for those out on a date, no?
Well, that is if you were actually with your significant other...
I silently sighed as I gave up on averting my eyes at the rather peculiar date I had sitting beside me.
The silence continued to loom over us until I could hear a sigh come from beside me, followed by my client seeming to relax his posture, "...Okay, yeah...We cannot do this." He declared with an almost comical exasperation.
I held back a laugh, making an audible pfft as I covered my crooked grin, "Oh, yeah, absolutely." And with my reply, we both let our bodies loosen as all the built-up tension and stress diluted into the water in one exchange.
"Fable set all this up, didn't she?"
"Yep, but as is probably evident, I was left blissfully uninformed," The young man explained, placing his elbow onto the edge of the vessel and leaning his weary head onto it, "So we can both thank her later for this little predicament." We shared a small chuckle before silence quickly covered up our cheers once again.
"..You know," A voice began, far less sarcastic than the one that echoed earlier, "I do wanna say sorry - for acting like that back at the studio." Sincerety lined his words, but his matte eyes avoided mine.
"Likewise, though I doubt any form of apology I can give will be of much recompense for my lack of professiona-"
"Yeah, yeah, you can reel back the corporate speak. That sort of thing sounds a lot better on your partner, y'know?" He halted me with a reserved tongue as I nodded in response.
Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.
"I get why you guys are so pushy about this. It's all 'cause of her, right?" The young man spoke, his eyes clouding with nostalgia, "Fable, I mean."
I didn't reply, letting him elaborate as I left my ears open to listen intently.
"Stop me if I start to overshare, but I never really had much of a plan when I first went to aiAI - or, well, when I first got out of high school." His voice remained soft but firm as he continued to recant, "I just wanted to complete the in-your-twenties-bingo-card, y'know?" He leaned back a bit, prompting me to do the opposite to show my intrigue without words.
"Here I was, fresh off the heels of high school, planning for college and getting my bearings on how to run a band...All that was left was to get a girlfriend and ride that high to wherever it'd take me." But upon that last line, he paused, the ideal he had created and illustrated for me disrupted by his next words, "Fable...Well, she kinda shattered that whole thing."
"...How so?" I finally sounded, my voice barely louder than the ripples made by the boat's course.
"She was different. Super different, at least from what I was expecting." He began, leaving my mind waiting for his elaborations, "Here was someone genuine, caring, and somehow so easygoing but overly aware of the people she loved." Continuing with a smile, he closed his eyes in thought as the warmth of his words contrasted the frigid air on my skin.
"Seriously," The young man opened his eyes, his golden locks not enough to hide the nostalgic beam in his dull eyes, "How the heck am I supposed to compete with that? Let alone think I'm worthy of it."
"...Yeah, I can understand that," I replied as those words echoed and reverberated in my thoughts - finding synchronicity in a version of myself from days past.
"Really? Then I hope you'll let me chew your ear out for a little longer." He quipped, a delicate tone emanating from his smirk, "It was like she was the universe's way of telling me, 'Hey, idiot! There's a lot more than just finding an ideal!' 'cause she made me want to preserve one - made me want to forever live in one."
And with those words, I became completely enamored by his perspective. Screw calling it a sense of familiarity - it felt like I was staring at a living, breathing reflection of my past self, ideologies and all.
In fairness, he's in better shape and has better-looking hair, so let's not get too ahead of ourselves.
"But lately, well..." He suddenly began, breaking my train of thought as his earlier wistfulness drifted off along the tides we left in our steady wake, "Fable's been worrying - about me, I think, but probably regarding a lot of things." And in its place came a visage of unease as his eyes lost their earlier sheen - now shining with what almost seemed like tears.
"But well, I don't know what to do except what I've been doing for as long as I can remember,"
"And that is?" I asked, entranced by the warmth of the kindred spirit beside me, even in the presence of the winter gales.
He faced me, finally letting our gazes meet as his lips began to part, "Loving her as much as I can." And with that, we neared the end of the stream, the cruise slowing to an even further crawl as if the world itself was giving me time to process his lyrics.
It seemed that Gale didn't just know there was a problem - he was probably the first to realize it.
When you build up an ideal, whatever it may be, it stands on nothing more than pillars of glass. It cracks easily, incredibly so, and when it does, each broken line juts out glaringly.
And while one can do their best to ignore these splinters, one fracture can turn into two, two into ten, and ten into an innumerable amount. Such is the case for glass houses built upon ideals as a foundation.
But that's not to fault Gale, not at all. One of the most human attributes we have is how readily we hold onto something and how afraid we become of letting go of it. He created a self-imposed future based on the past he lived - the one he came to love.
Of course, he'd be afraid of losing that - of losing Fable.
Who could blame him for wanting to cling to that and push through everything thrown his way to keep it afloat?
Well, in most cases, that'd be rhetorical, but this time, it isn't.
The answer is me.
It had to be me.
Who better than someone whose hands were still scarred from their own shattered home?
"Oh, our stop is here." My thoughts disturbed, I felt the steady rocking of the boat cease as Gale got up from his seat - his footfalls landing on unmoving land.
"Ah, sorry about that," I replied, joining him as our ride drifted off, "Let's find the other two then?"
"If Fable hasn't dragged your partner off too far, sure." And with that, we went to find our other halves amid the calm snowfall.
With that, my long-winded recollection can come to an end.
To recant, I found myself leaning back on a hardwood bench, my hands kissed by the cold steel of the armrests as I took a moment's rest amidst the warm atmosphere of the park bathed by the faint rays of the winter sun. The cool air carried an enticing energy from hustle and bustle that sang along with the chords of whimsical songs that echoed across the multicolored expanse.
Indeed, it was quite an amusing little spot I found myself in.
Oh? We're back here? Isn't that a neat little spin?
"Bridger!" I could hear a voice prick my ear, overpowering the crowd's murmurs as I turned to the women cloaked in layers of white and adorning a quaint hat scarf, "The place is about to close soon - have you spotted Myla anywhere?"
"Ah, she drifted off a while ago. I can go find her. You guys should wait at the exit before it gets bottlenecked by the rest of the visitors." The pair nodded in response as I battled the flow of the crowd, going deeper into the park to search for my dear lost partner.
I traversed the winding paths and colorful sights, each passing by as snowflakes landed upon my bare face - the snowflake I had the displeasure of calling mine still nowhere in sight.
That was until a familiar mane of silver strands caught my eye in one particular alley of stalls - her shimmering but colorless hair a sharp contrast upon the multicolored backdrops.
I began walking towards the booth only to realize Myla was completely focused on the game she was playing, with a tense posture and concentrated gaze as she held steady the faux firearm.
An audible pop shot through the air, followed by a hearty laugh from the man running the stall, "Yikes! Another miss from the fair lady! She's on quite the streak here, folks!" He heckled, inviting further chagrin from my partner as she clicked her tongue and recentered her sights.
The objective was simple. Multiple rows of balloons were stuck to a wall, and you were given an air gun to pop them from a distance. Reading the plastered signs, you had to pay every five shots and had to land three in a row for your choice of plush prize, and judging by the man's grin and Myla's furrowed brows, it seems she's been at it for a while.
"I know you're a tad underdressed, but there's plenty of other ways to warm up other than getting worked up over a carnival game." I joked as I made my way beside my dear partner, her eyes not moving an inch from her target.
"Ever the inquisitive one," She paused, taking and missing another shot as it struck the wooden wall, "Bridger." A voice cold as ice desperately tried to keep its composure as frustration only continued to mount.
"For someone with incredibly observant and sharp eyes, I've gotta say, Myla, your aim is horrendous."
Managing to land a shot this time, she popped a balloon, but her arms began to stagger upon choosing the next, "Oh, hush. Tell me that when you..." And as she pulled the trigger, another wayward shot was sent on its way straight to the wall, "Try the damned thing yourself..." She finished with a defeated voice, exhaling an abrupt sigh and dropping the gun on the table.
It was unlike the queen of frozen composure to be frustrated, let alone be stumped to the point of utter indignation. Contrastly, it would be very much like me to pick on her blunders, finding endless entertainment from her ire.
Well...I guess there are other ways to have fun.
I chuckled at her exasperation as I unburdened myself of my heavy coat and placed it onto her shoulders, "Oh, Myla, I'd much rather let something else do the talking." And with a confident remark, I took out my wallet and ordered some shots.
I picked up the gun, fiddling with it a bit to get a feel for it. It was lightweight but felt sturdy enough with a residual warmth on its grip.
Huh, here I thought she was cold-blooded.
The two eyed me with anticipation, one with a devious smirk and the other with doubtful intrigue.
If I recall, it goes a little something like...
I raised the gun and placed its stock against my shoulder, pressing my cheek against the cold maple wood to steady its sights. Fun fact, trained shooters are instructed to fire with both eyes open, but for something like this, there was no harm in closing one of them to get a better focus on things. I held firm the handle and readied the tip of my finger on the trigger, selecting a balloon among the bunch as I slowed my breathing.
Pop!
And as if in synch with my exhale, the sound of a pop rang through the alley, immediately followed by two more.
"Oop, I didn't think I'd get it first try," I said, placing the gun down with some surprise, "Ain't that lucky?" But as I faced the other two, it seemed they were far more taken aback.
"Uhm, I'll just uh..." I grabbed the stick from beside the dealer, raising it to one of the plushes and yanking it towards me, "Be taking this then?" And in my arms now sat a plump and fluff snowy fox.
"Oh, shoot, I forgot to ask what you wanted, but," I realized as I handed Myla the toy, its white fur almost like an extension of her ashen braids, "It fits, dont'cha think?"
She outstretched her arms as she looked at the plush, surprise turning into a slight irritation as she gave me a reserved mhm, "Well, it's not as if I can complain." Pulling it in, she held it close, placing her chin atop its floof, "Thank you."
Okay, that's kinda cute.
"Don't mention it," I said, clearing my throat along with my thoughts before facing her again, "This was an act of pity, after all," I added with a mischievous smile but was happy to see her gratefulness.
"Though I am surprised, I didn't know you had it in you to do...well, that."
"Oh? I guess I forgot to tell you guys, but this isn't the first time I've been here," I began leaning back on the counter as I stared off into the sky, "I used to go here with Amanda a lot, so I've got a bit of practice." Speaking as I reminisced, my words were lined with gentleness.
"Is that so?" She spoke in her usual cold voice, but the tone felt strangely sharp.
"Yep, every December or so - we practically became regulars and this was one of her favorite spo-"
"I'll earn one by myself then." Interrupting me with words like blades, she threw the toy into me and swapped the coat on her shoulders for the gun on the counter.
"Huh? What the- Why?"
Myla remained silent as she placed the weapon shoulder-level and furrowed her brow in both annoyance and to aim, "...Pride." A single word was the only elaboration I received before she returned to her earlier Sisyphean dance.
I was left puzzled, cuddling the toy whose earlier warmth was stolen away and replaced with an icy touch. I eyed my partner as shots began to ring out before my peripheries spotted the clerk with a particularly disappointed expression - something that did little to temper my confusion.
"Yikes..." He whispered with a hand to his forehead, "That's the worst missed shot I've seen in my career..."
I could only react with my half-agape mouth before my attention was stolen away by the continued sounds of compressed air without the reply of popped balloons.
It had become quite clear Myla's annoyance was reaching its peak. From her pale skin slowly gaining a rosy hue or her constant but subtle grumbling, her mood, and aim remained unsteady as she thoughtlessly sent lead down range - no helium and rubber innards spilled by her hand.
Ever the busybody when I make a mistake but then she gets all like this without even trying to change a thing in her strategy…How hopeless..?
I sighed to cleanse my disbelief while stepping back from the stall and walking behind my partner's slim figure.
"For crying out loud," I began dismayed, reaching out my arms toward her, "You do it like this." And with my hands placed firmly on her still swaying hands, I leaned in to aid in her currently fruitless endeavor.
"Seriously, at some point, you've gotta realize you're practically shooting away your funds…" She seemed to understand what I meant, keeping still and awaiting my next advice.
While still being a touch impractical for the current weather, Myla's ensemble brought with it a useful little quirk for today's lesson - her boots.
She stood a tiny bit taller than usual, making things a little bit easier on my end. My hands held hers, one clenched onto the grip and the other below the fore-stock. Her fingers were slim but long and were also smooth to the touch - like ice but with the softness of velvet, though I dared not do more than steady them from their earlier shaking. She always possessed an aura that matched the late months, but her snowdrop scent of violas added to that existing trait - clinging to the dry air as I stood by her. And while she had tied her hair up into a bundle, some wayward strands of silver silk tangled onto me as I kept close behind her.
Oh, right, the lesson.
"Firstly, let's fix that nasty shaking off yours, okay?" I guided with a far more delicate and accommodating voice, keeping her grip firm on the rifle with my hands, "It's all on your breathing, don't tense yourself up and control your breaths, m'kay?" She nodded quietly, her aim undisturbed as she put my advice to work.
"Good, now breathe in and out, take your shot right as you exhale." I continued, taking note of her intuition as she followed my words to the letter, "Finally, align the sight with your target and pull the trigger with the tip of your finger - firm but collected." With that last string of words, silence befell the space as if the world awaited her next move.
Pop!
And right on time, we received a sonorous reply in a single note.
"Ah, there you go." I praised cooly, still not changing my inflections, "Good work, now recenter your sights and do it again, alright?" Guiding her hands with my own, we placed the barrel toward another balloon.
Pop!
Repeating like a song's chorus, the second note sounded through the air as I felt a smile creep up on my face.
"Well then, always knew you learned quick but..." I took a moment to admire her handiwork, not noticing I'd leaned in quite close now as I could glance at her still-concentrating eyes, "Attagirl." And with the rare compliment given, I awaited her next and hopefully final shot.
...That was if not for the silence that took that note's spot in the musical sheet of this little debacle.
"Uhm, Myla? Are you gonna take the shot or..?"
"Oh, right." She finally spoke, her concentration breaking as I could feel the grip from her fingers loosen, "I think I can do this on my own now, Bridger, so, uhm..." My partner voiced, icy but lacking its stern, blade-like edge.
"Ah, right. Go on ahead." Taken aback by her tonal shift, I released my grasp on her hands and quickly created some distance between us as I tried to hide my embarrassment.
It still feels a little...warm?
I shook my head vigorously to lose any mortal thoughts before being brought back to reality with a loud and triumphant pop! sounding from beside me.
"Well, I'll be damned." I cleared my throat, turning to face my dear partner who placed the gun down - a hand to her waist as she stood proud.
She faced me, a slight redness on her ivory face, "If only you were." And with her usual brand of endearing quip, she smirked and pointed to one of the prizes, the disgruntled owner reluctantly awarding her one.
She kinda resembles a child who's overly pleased with herself...Best not to ruin her fun.
"How's that pride of yours doing now?" I asked as she received the toy - pink and plush.
"Oh, that?" Throwing her amber gaze to the sky, she took a moment to think before extending her arms towards me along with the stuffed animal, "A bit better, seeing as we're even." Taking it into my arms, its fluff held a familiar warmth as it gazed into me with a dopey smile.
What's with all the cozy descriptives in these paragraphs? I thought it was winter? God, I think I'm getting sick...
"It fits, does it not?" Myla commented as she eyed me holding the witless-looking plush, grabbing the snowy fox from the counter as she did.
"Likewise." And with that, it seemed we both managed to snag each other something to remember the day by.
Hopefully, aiAI lets us keep them in the car.
We returned to the entrance of the park as daylight burned through the last of its wax and stars began to slowly rain from the darkening winter sky. At the gate awaited our clientele pair, both with weary smiles decorating their well-layered silhouettes.
"Ohoho? D'you two enjoy yourselves while we were gone?" Fable teased, her hands together behind her back as she eyed us with a scheming grin.
"When adventuring leave only footprints, take only memories..." Myla began, caressing the spotless white fluff of her plush as my coat hung from her shoulders.
"...And a few souvenirs if circumstances permit." Continuing her thought, I gently patted the pink blob in my hands.
"Adorable as ever you two." The young lass commented, rather fond of the show we put on for her amusement, "But that aside..."
"We talked a bit on what to do next, and we wanna hear you guys' thoughts on it." In a similar manner, Gale finished the words of his other half with confidence, the pair providing us with assured expressions.
Wild guess but this one won't be a literal walk in the park this time, eh?