Of Loss and Tragedy, On Gain and Dreams [Ele/Trident]

The autumn is signaled by the fresh chill of the salty sea breeze from Four’s oceans. People are starting to wear more coverage than usually, which just meant maybe a pair of pants and some shirts with sleeves, but otherwise there is no considerable change in the surroundings of Curse’s hometown. However stable and unmoving Four’s environment appeared to be, its citizens are anything but. Curse feels that he is a great example as he moved out to his own place and got a job in one of the huge fishing warehouses. He’s been enjoying life on his own, setting his own rules, making whatever he wants, getting to do things his way. He feels in control of his life, even if he struggles to pay the bills some months and eats cheap, crappy fish and bread that’s only about a dollar a meal. This all feels surreal to him sometimes and he thinks that he’s going to wake up in his old childhood room, on his way to the doctor’s again for probably another mono infection. Yet he wakes up every morning in his bare studio, on his somewhat decent bed, and to his otherwise “cheap” appliances, like today.

They aren’t the greatest by any means of technology, and his parents openly showed their disgust when they saw the place that one time they came, but he loves them. He knows that they were built to last, and they still work, which is perfectly fine by him, and even though he doesn’t have much he enjoys it. He was able to keep his high tech bed, which has this sort of foam that contours to his body which he greatly appreciates after the long grueling hours of the warehouse. His first job is a basic entry level job, hauling around crates of fish and helping out trying the boats back to the dock. It’s all grunt work, but it’s fine by him, he doesn’t go to his Training as much anymore so it’s a great way to stay in shape. Even though his life may seem like an awesome new bachelor’s life he feels like he has become estranged to his family.

He begins contemplating this as he begins carrying a crate of fish to the market in his brawny arms. Ever since he moved out his family began to act like he didn’t exist. They ignored his messages barely visit him, and they avoid Curse in public. They only came to his house warming party, and only then they only stayed for ten minutes. Apparently a person only needs ten minutes to show how disgusted they are at people that they once called blood though. Apparently back stabbing comes easy to family full of careers, which Curse should have expected, not that he thinks about it. It’s what people like him were trained to do, yet he never expected to be shut out from his family, who has all but disappeared from his life.

Why don’t they ever call me, or at least come and visit? I know it’s not glamourous but it’s a stable house. Plus the bathroom is separated and has walls around it, it’s not like everything is exposed. Maybe they do hate me.
This spiraling train of self-deprecating thought keeps on going and going, until the point to where Curse isn’t even paying attention to where he’s walking. The crate is already big enough as it is there’s no point to get lost in a swirl of negativity as well. It’s a perfect recipe to fall and get hurt, which is exactly what Curse does in his clumsy fashion. He didn’t see the tall thin boy as he crashed into him almost breaking his load. Luckily he is able to break the crate’s fall with his own body as he twists to side and lands on his shoulder, Career training in use. After checking the box and making sure that it’s ok he went over to the boy saying,

“Hey man I’m sorry I wasn’t paying attention, here let me help you up.” He pulls the boy up and then continues on, “I’m Curse Jinx, by the way. Again man I’m really sorry.”