She carefully smudged the black eyeliner with a cotton swab, dabbing more liner to create a darker smudge. She waved her hand above a collection of colors before plucking magenta. She deftly added small dots to the upper lid and outer corner.
She reached for a beautifully carved wooden brush with fine bristles. She paused as her fingers touched it, frowning at her reflection. She retracted her hand and pulled and fluffed her cropped hair with her fingers. Her frown deepened at the faded color marring the natural brown seeping through.
She dipped her pinky in a small, glass jar of oils and carefully dragged it from behind her left ear, down her neck, across the top of her strapless corset, back up her neck, and finished behind her right ear. Her cocked head at her reflection, pulling the corset up a smidge.
“Kalon.” Grams tapped on her door as she opened it. “Vern needs you to run to town.” She scanned her, eyes narrowing in suspicion. “You look lovelier than usual.”
“How so?” Kalon fluffed the long, dark skirt she wore. The front was butled up with two shining metallic belts to show off the red plaid heeled bootlets. “I’ve worn all this before together, and in combination with other things.”
Grams sniffed. “Not usually with your oils.”
“It’s getting hot. I’m preemptively combating the sweat.” She shut up the wardrobe. “You made mention of Gramps needing me? For what?”
“Errands in town.” She gazed at her from under her raised eyebrows. “Is there a problem?”
“No, Grams… not at all.”
---
The salon was busy with one man being attended to, one woman waiting, and a second woman under the dryer. Kalon took the unoccupied seat next to that woman and lazily flipped through a battered magazine with different haircuts.
“Why don’t you simply wait at the library if you are so concerned?”
“I didn’t say I was concerned, Strauss, don’t put such thoughts out there.”
Strauss rolled her eyes between deft snips of her shears.
“I saw that!”
“I meant you to.” She set down her scissors, leaning back to assess her work. “The tailor said they’d be finished by ten. You have enough of a time frame to go back to the library and wait for this guy to arrive.”
“I didn’t say I was waiting for him! I said he told me he would come back, and since I've always assisted, it makes the most sense for me–.”
“That’s waiting for him, Kalon.” Strauss began whipping some lather. “I am not saying anything you haven’t already. You’re the one becoming flustered over re-wordings.”
“Am not!”
She joined Strauss in a laugh, smiling sheepishly. She set the magazine aside and slouched down in the chair. She stretched out her right leg, hiking her skirt up to gander at her white calf.
“Maybe I should do tattoo on my legs? Like socks, but perhaps something floral or even a textile print?”
“You cannot remove it once you tire of it. You must absolutely be certain.”
Kalon felt her eyebrow. She did not put her bar in.
She tossed her skirt back over her leg. “Pattern stockings would hurt less.”
“This bloke of yours–”
“He is not–.”
“--he's friends with Bex, is he not? Is he as gorgeous?”
“He isn’t otherworldly like Bex. Much more human. Much more real.”
“No, then. Pity.”
Innit was not in the same realm as Bex was, true enough, but Kalon found Bex unapproachable. She had spoken to him several times and over the span of years, but there was a way he spoke, or looked at people, or walked; there was some sort of distance that never shrunk.
There were changes after Khoa began appearing, but more on the notion that Bex was capable of closing distances with only a select few. Kalon knew she was not one of them, and did not care enough to change that. She enjoyed the talks with him, looked forward to them to an extent, but believed even the jump from acquaintanceship to friendship would be too exhausting to bear.
“Is that not the mouthy boy that tags after Bex?”
Kalon snapped her head towards the window where Khoa was indeed storming by. She jumped up, fluffed her skirt, and hurried out.
“Khoa?”
Khoa jerked to a stop and rounded on her. “Oh, you.”
She squinted unsurely. “Kalon.” Her hands balled up at his indifferent shrug. “What are you doing stomping around alone?”
“Why don’t you tell me?” He stepped up to her, odd-eyes narrowed. “Why’s it that halfway to the library, Innit flips and bolts?” He clicked his tongue. “I ain’t even wantin’ to go. Actually…,” he looked her up and down, “what’re you doin’ out here? I thought you ain’t allowed to leave?”
“What? Of course I'm allowed to leave. Librarians aren't chained to their buildings.”
Khoa’s gaze stayed on her, turning hard. “I think I’m gettin’ it.”
Kalon stepped back as Khoa stepped even closer, bearing down on her as much as their minor height difference allowed. He seemed much larger at that moment.
“You leave Innit alone.”
“I don’t know–.”
Khoa grabbed her arm, squeezing it. “He’s got enough goin’ on, and he don’t need you playin’ with him. There ain’t a thing you get out of it.”
“You’re hurting–.”
“Are you listenin’ to me? He ain’t got money, or connections, or anything. And if you’re doin’ it just for sport… I’ll kill you.”
She could not tell if Khoa threw her, or if she tripped on her bootlets trying to pull away, but Kalon found herself on the hard ground. Her hip and hand ached from the pavement. She flinched as Khoa moved above her, holding her breath until he moved away.
She cringed as her scuffed palm rubbed against her skirt as she brushed it upon standing. The scrape was not worrying, but it was oozing. She leaned against the nearest building, picking at the torn skin.
She wandered off towards the tailor, still bothering with her palm. Her heartbeat was starting to settle, but would skip as she replayed her interaction with Khoa over. Her throat was dry.
Kalon halted as the noises of Khoa's voice drifted among the buildings. She could not make out the specifics, but the tone was angry. She ducked into a doorway, heart once more pounding wildly.
“--me and quit runnin’ around like a psycho! I know this town better than you do!”
“I don’t need your help, Khoa! I can find the car alone.”
“Now you want to be alone.” Khoa scoffed. “Sure. When you drag me all the way out here. You plannin’ on just drivin’ off and leavin’ me here? What am I supposed to do, Innit? Walk home?”
There was a lengthy pause.
“How insane are you?”
“I was thinkin’! Not about ditchin’ you. Quit jumpin’ down my throat.”
“Quit being defensive. I’m tryna stop you from being nuts.”
“Quit callin’ me crazy, Khoa!”
“You’ve been nothing but crazy since you turned up on Bex’s doorstep!”
Kalon tried to shrink as they stopped in front of her hiding spot. She held her breath as Khoa’s sharp eyes fell on her. She gulped as Innit’s sky eyes followed suit, widening slightly.
“Kalon… right?” He stepped back. “You’re outside?”
“Yes?” She stepped out of the doorway. “I’m not a prisoner. I can come and go as I please.” She gestured down the street. “Going to the tailor.”
“Oh. Cool. Clothes.” Innit looked at the cobbles. “Something came up. I ain’t goin’ to the library today.”
“I understand. Things come up.”
“Okay.”
Innit had darker circles under his eyes than yesterday, but his hair lacked the grease from the previous visits which suggested a recent washing. The faint scent of musky bodywash drifted from him.
“Are we leavin’ or y’all just going to stand there tryna not make eye contact?”
“That’s not–! Shut up, Khoa!” Innit’s face reddened. “Let’s go.” He paused. “I… like your skirt… if you don’t mind me noticin’.”
“Thank you. I thought you might.” She cleared her throat. “Notice. I thought you might notice. Ha, unfortunate tickle there.” She bowed her head. “I should go pick up Gramps’s jacket.”
Innit opened his mouth, closed it, and nodded. He kept his head ducked as he strode off; Khoa right on his heels.
Kalon slowly mosied forward, stealing glances over her shoulder, suppressing a smile.
---
The call that she had someone waiting for her in the entry had Kalon speeding up the stairs. She played with her now fully brown hair, fingertips brushing the soft sides of her skulls, the hair having grown beyond the stubble phase.
Her nearly black maroon lips fell from their giddy grin.
Bex was ridgid, jaw set firm and shoulders back. His usually carefully groomed hair had a shag to it, the darkening roots indicating it was autumn.
“You don’t appear thrilled to see me.”
“Oh.” Kalon smushed her cheeks. “Sorry about that, Bex. It was a long night. What may I assist with? It has been quite awhile.”
Kalon escorted Bex to his usual alcove on the second floor balcony. She stared off at the direction they had come as he settled into a chair.
“Yes, I did come here alone.”
“What?” Kalon played with the tassels on her jacket sleeve. “Sorry, I was just…. I don’t believe you’ve come alone since Khoa…. Well, joined you isn’t the exact term I would use, but you understand what I mean.”
“Who am I to argue with your memory?”
She smiled wryly. “That only applies to things I’ve read, and you know that.”
Bex nodded, smirking. “He opted to stay home. Claimed it was a migraine, but I cannot say if that is so.”
“Why would he lie about his head hurting?”
“It could hurt. I would believe it to be more psychosomatic than genuine with how he’s been worrying over his friend the last few weeks.” Bex slowly lowered into a wooden chair next to a window. “What I’m here for is more detailed maps of the area I live. I’ve tried finding the area on your grand globe, but it isn’t too specific. And quite worn.”
“Sure. Of course. Right away.” Kalon did not move, still fiddling with her tassels. “Sorry, but why would Khoa be worried over Innit?”
Bex’s mockingbird eggshell eyes narrowed as confusion crossed his face, soon replaced with dawning. “That’s right, you’ve met him.” He laughed. “I had forgotten his name.”
“You said Khoa was worrying himself sick over him?”
The laughter immediately sapped from his face. He leaned back in his chair, draping his arm over the back. A coldness descended upon the alcove. His carefully trimmed fingernails followed the woodgrain of the table absentmindedly as he kept his eyes on her.
“You know next to everything. I am quite certain you know about my… hobby.”
“I would not describe riling people into burning down their own buildings as a hobby.”
“They aren’t burning their buildings. They’re burning the lands belonging–.” Bex stopped, taking a frustrated breath. “You disapprove, but you still always point me to exactly the manuscript I need.”
“My job is to protect these stories, not to bar you from them. What you do with what information you gain here is all on you.”
The smile returned to Bex’s handsome face. “I do appreciate your conviction and rationale, Kalon. So, what can I help you learn? Khoa being upset over Innit, yes?” His posture relaxed. “I mention my hobby because it was how I ended up with Khoa. And that led to Innit’s brief stay. Very brief, actually. Khoa dragged him off here immediately.”
“They were staying here? Why not with you?”
“Personal reasons that don’t need expanding upon. What I’m trying to tell you is that Innit has ties to…. Wait, I should have asked if you knew of Arios Washington rather than just assume.”
The summary that had consumed Grams for so much longer than others–to Kalon’s memory–was about Arios Washington. It was a fantastical tale of the return of a lost prince, but on the day of his return he was felled.
“Yes, I read of him. Characters that die twice are a memorable rarity.” Her green eyes widened. “Wait a tick, are you saying Innit knew him? In what context? Surely something casual, yeah?”
“Unfortunately, no. Khoa says they were friends. For a number of years too, not recently. As he relayed to me, Innit had been with him since escaping–.”
Bex locked his jaw. The golden light that seemed to radiate from him dimmed as he paled. He cleared his throat, blamed dust, and asked for maps of France and Switzerland with coolness and detachment.
She went to the atlas section on autopilot. The information was too much, too varied, and would be better processed if it was written down. There was a creeping sensation down her spine at Bex’s abruptness. Escape was too specific a word; one she understood too well.
-------------
I was originally going in chronological order, so the start of the next one is what was first written down. I also have an unfinished scene where Kalon and Bex are introduced, but that goes into the 'character study but not that deep' part I mentioned in the comments. Kalon's friend Strauss was also first written in that unfinished scene too, now that I think about it. The gist of it was Kalon getting her eyebrow pierced, and her and Strauss oogling Bex as he walks by the salon, and then Kalon getting scolded by Grams (Pistachio) for ruining her face, and then Gramps introducing Kalon to Bex and explaining how Kalon's "ability" works to him. Which is just a form of photographic memory. She can remember everything she's ever read, but more as summaries. So, if she read a book on the American Revolution, she could summarize the whole thing and tell you what pages specifically talked about crossing the Delaware, but wouldn't be able to say in the exact words written down. The flip side to this is she's much more absentminded with everything else around her, forgetting names, people's faces, ect. more easily. (Tried to show that a bit with Khoa getting annoyed with her last posting. And it's usually Khoa calling her out for it in the whole thing because he's more hyperobservant to his surroundings.)
