pullmeoutalive | Ramey

[ It’s easy to see how Red Rocks Park gets its name. Trails, a museum, a restaurant, and an amphitheatre all sit nestled among natural formations of red stone, jutting out of the hills to the west of Denver. It’s a popular concert venue, to be sure, but it’s also just far enough away from the city that, at the right hour, the stars really shine.

Charlie’s been here a few times for various things, but it never ceases to amaze him just how cool this place is. He hopes it at least makes up for the car ride, during which Charlie apologized profusely for wedging Alke into his tiny car.

It seems to, anyway, and Charlie grins. ]

Yeah? I think so, too.

[He stoops a final time, to haul his bag out of the back of the car, and slings it over one shoulder. He packed food and - given that he doesn't know what to expect of this climate - a couple extra sweaters and a blanket. He shuts the car door gingerly, and scrubs a hand through his curly hair, mussed by constantly bumping his head against the top of the car's interior.

It's been a long time since he's hiked anywhere. It almost feels strange, to do this without Mirian and Safa and a contingent of soldiers at their back. He keeps compensating for a machine gun he's not carrying, little shifts of his balance on the left side.]

Makes for a good adventure. Would you like to lead the way?

[ The mussed work kind of works for Alke, Charlie decides. Good job, tiny car. ]

Sure. I figure we can head towards the top of the amphitheatre area. That’s where the best view is.

[ It’s a bit of a hike from the parking lot, but once they get to the amphitheatre proper, it’s all concrete steps leading to the top. He moves to walk alongside Alke, then, observing him as they go. ]

Used to carrying something else?

[ He’s always been a bit too perceptive for his own good. ]

[He keeps his stride short, obviously he's used to travelling alongside people who aren't quite so damnably tall. But at Charlie's question, he gives him a sort of sideways look. Alke never has liked lying, and he thinks he owes honesty to a man that's been nothing but kind.]

I was a machine gunner. They are-- ah, sixty pounds without the tripod base. Usually they are broken down and carried between two soldiers.

[He never bothered. The longer the war wore on, the more important it became to be battle ready at all times. The brass were the only ones who ever got on his case about it, and their tune usually changed after they'd seen a battle or two.]

I assume that you never bothered taking yours apart, what with you being built like a mountain and all.

[ He grins a little. ]

Is everyone like that where you’re from? Built like mountains, I mean.

[That gets a bit of a laugh.]

No, to both.

[Though he regrets carrying the gun a little these days. He's all of twenty-eight, and there are already mornings where he wakes up and his knee is locked, a late protestation of carrying the extra load.]

I am from a small farming village. Fewer than five hundred people. I was always bigger than the others.

[Which lead to amusing situations and circumstances like being rattled out of bed in the early hours of the morning to help with some farming disaster. Overturned tractors, cows or sheep trapped in crevasses, people relied on his strength well before the war. It didn't bother him. That was the point of community, and when his family had disasters of their own, there were always helping hands in excess.]

We’re opposites that way, I guess. I was always one of the little guys. Got into my fair share of fights because of it too.

[ His parents would always be livid- That is not how a Maxwell should conduct himself, they’d say. The nurse they kept on staff at the estate eventually taught him how to patch himself up to avoid confrontations with his father. One of the gardeners taught him how to throw a punch, and how to take one. After that, the fighting became much less frequent. ]

And I have also never set foot on a farm in my life.

I am sorry to hear that. Fighting is not a pleasant thing.

[His brow creases, in something like concern. He never has been good about standing other people's hardships. It's why he went to war.]

And, ah. I enjoy it, but farming is not for everyone. It is also largely becoming obsolete at the level I operate.

[A little patch of acreage and enough cows to turn a modest profit becomes harder to maintain each year. The government is keen on driving them out.]

[ That concern is actually a little startling, leading Charlie to amend, ] Just schoolyard scraps. Nothing serious.

You’ll have to excuse this poor ignorant city boy, but what do you mean by “at the level you operate”?

[THAT DOES NOT REASSURE HIM, CHARLIE. But he accepts the answer with a nod and continues,]

Small farms, run by families. What is enough to make a living for a small group is not profitable enough for a corporation or in the eyes of a government.

Ohhh. Gotcha. I get that, to an extent, considering I run a small business.

What are you guys gonna do?

[He knocks aside a small rock with the toe of his boot and gives Charlie a rather wry look.]

We are on a date, and you wish to discuss agricultural politics?

[ You can practically hear the record scratch in Charlie’s brain. It’s been so long since they agreed to come out here that the word “date” hadn’t crossed his mind in a long while.

Ah, right. Alke had called him attractive, hadn’t he? ]

I, ah-- Sorry.

[um.]

Did I assume incorrectly?

What? Oh, no. No no no. [ He puts his hands up. ] I just… it hadn’t really occurred to me, I guess. I’m not objecting at all, trust me.

[It gets a flickering smile, there-and-gone.]

Sorry. It's-- been a while, for me. American conventions are not quite in line with what I know.

It's fine. Not like I would have said no, anyway. I mean, you've seen you, right?

[He opens his mouth. Closes it. After a moment he rubs at the back of his neck.]

Thank you. I think.

[Wryly,]

I'm not very good with compliments.

[ He lets out an amused snort ] Yeah, I noticed.

[ At this point, they crest the top of the stairs and enter the amphitheater proper- rows of wooden benches leading down to the darkened stage below. From this vantage point, they can see the city sprawled out in the distance, and the stars sprawled out above them. ]

[It seems a strange thing to have outside of a city. It's obviously not a ruin, and this world is not at war, but he finds himself looking a little too intently at their surroundings rather than above them.

Nothing moves in the shadows. He can't smell blood in the air. Rationally, he knows this. It still takes him the span of several too-long seconds to pry his attention upwards. The stars, as ever, settle him.

He makes a faint nose, sort of a 'hm' and slides his pack from his shoulders until it thumps against the ground. By his calculations, his home planet should be in the north-eastern quadrant of the sky.]

Do you do this often? Stargaze.

Not really. [ He looks up, following Alke's gaze. ] My apartment's in the city, and I don't come out here too often.

[He gestures to a bench, and once they're seated he pulls a thermos out of his rucksack. Tea, for the discerning nose. He pours a capful of it and hands it to Charlie first.]

So, you are a book-keeper that grew up in the city, a man in possession of a very small car [a bit of a smile] who is kind to strangers. [He curls his hands around the outside of the thermos absent-mindedly.] What about you? What has your life been like?

[ Charlie is more of a coffee person, but he’s not one to turn down a good cup of tea. Especially not when it’s being offered by an extremely handsome man. The thermos seems to have done its job in keeping it hot, but not too hot. He takes a couple of sips, and regards the surface of the tea quietly for a moment and Alke’s question. ]

My life? It’s been… it’s been an adventure. Not all of it good. [ Without thinking, he brings a hand to his own chest, presses it over the scar there, hidden just beneath his shirt. ] But I wouldn’t have gotten where I am today without the good and the bad, and I’ve learned to accept that.

Also, I’m a very small person, so my very small car suits me just fine, thank you. I wasn’t expecting to be taking a mountain out on a date when I bought it.

[As philosophies go, it's a sound one. Each life has pain, and each one has value. At length, he pours himself a cup of tea. The spices are from his home, and he has not yet found an equivalent mixture here, but he supposes it tastes faintly of ginger, cinnamon and turmeric spice.]

It was-- [he begins in a speculative tone, it turns playful and teasing,] an observation. Not so much a criticism.

[That smile is back, he hides it with a drink of tea. More seriously,]

I'm sorry for what you have suffered. It takes a strong person to acknowledge how it forged them.

Thank you. It took me a long time to get there, trust me.

[ He smiles, the expression soft and contemplative, but it brightens after a moment. ]

But there I go, being a downer again. How’d things go with your sister?

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