DID YOU SAY, BEETLES???

It wouldn’t be hard to mistake the girl’s question for judgement in place of what it truly was, curiosity; an interest in people that bordered on unhealthy and often times presented itself in the wrong way. It’s only with his blush that her lips curl in show that she has no ill intent. “Lucky for him it’s not mung. The other cats would surely bully him for that.” At least, they might if the animals were part of an animated film directed towards children, a world that didn’t exist in this reality, a reality that it often times seemed Lyra herself might not exist within. “Ah…let me guess…he looked like a shoe when you found him?”

“Eh— yeah, and he was in one.” It was winter, snow was falling and people became even bigger obstacles to shove past with their large jackets. Nabeel had enjoyed the weather more than the unbearable summers — especially when their electricity got turned off — but he couldn't say the same about his siblings. The twins had begged to go with Nabeel to the bodega, saying that their orders are never right; even when they were (he always made sure of it). But when it came to those two, it's best to just let them have it their way. “My siblings found him just before we climbed the fire escape, ” A thing oddly easy to say. “ poor thing climbed into a boot that was wayyy too small for him… It took me an hour and a couple of scratches before he was free. And when you’re against a dozen siblings about the name, Shoe stuck...”

perhaps they weren’t so different . striker’s boots had never graced the concrete city — before roswell he had only left tennessee once for texas , a blind and sprawling attempt at finding somewhere safe for his brothers , and so his toes were more at home within sun-bleached grass and dying corn . nevertheless , his buddy in the passenger side seemed to nod along to his crazed sentences , his scenarios plucked straight from a western movie ; maybe striker and new york wasn’t such a strange mix after all . perhaps , if he ever won the lottery or stumbled across a crank-dealer’s stash , he would be able to up and leave the deserts behind , kissing goodbye dirt roads and sand and nestling himself among rat-lined streets , bright lights , and beautiful women .

“Mm.” He squints, hesitantly reaching his hand toward the large creature. The tension is was obvious with the way the limb faintly trembled and his slightly retracted head. “Er- yo, Bertha. How's it going?” The ‘city’ accent peaks as he closes an eye, trying to prepare his mind and body for whatever was going to happen. Being told something is totally different than doing it. That's why most say ‘I’ll take your word’ when it comes down to fears or crazy shit. Not like this was particularly crazy but it's new, which is enough to bring the man ready to hop around like some roach was scurrying around. "’ima pray you don't knock me on my ass.”

“The best of two worlds,” Patrick commented with a smile. “It’s similar with these two – Meadow here,” he nodded at his Samoyed, “she’s younger and definitely a lot more independent. She likes to do things her own way but Jet is older and more settled. We figured that maybe she could learn from him,” Patrick added before he blinked and shook his head immediately at the proposal. “Oh god – no, you really don’t have to do that unless I disturb you all,” he told him. “It’s not like I own this place. We come here every now and then. I don’t really stick to a plan or a schedule. I just see how active they are and whether or not it’s worth it to take the trip.”

“I’m Nabeel, by the way. I'm not sure if I introduced myself or not, been a couple of busy weeks so everything is disorganized...” He shakes his right hand out of his jacket, revealing all the patchwork of tattoos on the skin. Some, of which were done by his left. The wobbly lines and funky, emoticon sort of smiles are his proof. “Hopefully we haven't met before either or that would— be even more awkward.”

the thought of living at tripp’s sent a shiver down ender’s spine , a cold draught from the crack in an open door . no amount of decorating could fix a raggedy old trailer , a bathroom that barely fit her makeup bag — she wondered whether it was necessity or desire that had landed nabeel in such a situation . attempting to hide her distain ( and not doing a particularly good job at it ) she translated her sneer into a smile as they walked . “ well , i’m sure you’ve made it … nice in there . moonbeam gardens is roswell’s answer to the hamptons , ” and it was where she was sure she belonged .

“That sounds nice, very nice... ” He looks away for a moment, thinking about what something like that would look like in a home, or even in his old office. The only reason why it ever looked so homey was due to his natural need to create a scenery of safety. The colors not awfully bright or too dark and the furniture was paired with some plants that a friend gifted him. “And very expensive. I don't think I would ever get it even if I had the money... No matter how much I train my cats they don't stop using everything as their scratch post. I definitely would admire it in someone else though.” While he isn't exactly a designer, he knows how to enjoy. Whether it be the art through books or creations such as furniture, he's struck. Finding some way to involve the aspects of nature in it later. “I hope you are able to get a place there soon though! It’ll be exciting, new homes always are. ”

striker liked to pride himself on being an open book , perhaps too open in the eyes of some people . he would divulge stomach-churning information regarding his sex life , his strange scars and bruises , his tennessee upbringing to anybody that would listen — as he towered above the now-seated nabeel , his crudely tattooed arms knitted in a cross against his chest . proudly , with a tip of his jaw , the male announced : “ i ain’t never had one . learned how t’ drive a tractor and a combine when i was a boy and that’s done me well all this time . my licence ain’t really my licence — i’m lucky my brothers are a dab hand when it comes to that new-fangled technology , “

just as he was an open book , he was also a raging technophobe . any phone without buttons terrified him , and so striker was much more at home among the farmyard equipment he had grown up around , the machinery that had remained unchanged throughout technological advancements . striker could navigate his way around a tailgate but when it came to anything compact , white and shiny , he would recoil in horror . “ they stuck a photo of myself over an old card an’ i ain’t never been questioned since , “ although many an evening had ended with a sleepover beside the sheriff . he would promise that would be the last time upon every discharge , but striker wasn’t one for keeping ahold of promises .

“ That’s what I’m here for. ” Nabeel composes himself, offering a smile as the pat seemed to pry him further into a comfortable state. “ ‘M just hoping Bertha isn’t want to toss me around. ” He chuckles as he slinks off the ground, his hands quick to work on dusting his clothes from dust. “ I gotta lot of trust in you right now and I hope that doesn't backfire on me. ” He had no thought that Striker was intentionally putting him in harm's way. Of course, that's a bit questionable with the rollercoaster of a drive but compared to the way he talks about the cow – especially when corresponded with Mr. Mean – there was a clear difference from the blundering man. “...She won't bite me, right? I can barely handle when my cats bite at me so I don't think I can handle– a cow, biting me. ” He squints at the other with a raised brow.

“ That’s what I’m here for. ” Nabeel composes himself, offering a smile as the pat seemed to pry him further into a comfortable state. “ ‘M just hoping Bertha isn’t want to toss me around. ” He chuckles as he slinks off the ground, his hands quick to work on dusting his clothes from dust. “ I gotta lot of trust in you right now and I hope that doesn't backfire on me. ” He had no thought that Striker was intentionally putting him in harm's way. Of course, that's a bit questionable with the rollercoaster of a drive but compared to the way he talks about the cow – especially when corresponded with Mr. Mean – there was a clear difference from the blundering man. “...She won't bite me, right? I can barely handle when my cats bite at me so I don't think I can handle– a cow, biting me. ” He squints at the other with a raised brow.

“Garbanzo?” Her eyes inspect him as he inspects the food, an act perhaps too intimate for mere strangers, though social norms were clearly not her forte. “You named your cat after a bean?” Yet another strike were anyone keeping a count; a judgement call that’s certainly not hers to make not only because it shouldn’t matter, but because she herself had never had a pet of any form in her lifetime, clueless as to what was deemed acceptable and what wasn’t, as if such stipulations even existed.

“ It’s uh, one of my favorite types of beans… It was hard to control myself from giving him that name when I found him. ” He scratches the back of his neck with a flush. A twinge of embarrassment pressed against his skin with such childish indulgence. “ With how small he was, he really looked like one. Then I brought him home and gave him a bath—and he just fluffed up… But the name stuck so— yeah, I named my cat after a bean. ” Nabeel breathes, feeling a little lighter with the silly confession. It wasn't that big of a deal in hindsight, but still something different than what he was used to. “ I mean, the other one is named Shoe. ”

she understood — conversation was exhausting at her waitressing job . she wished there was something she could do that kept her away from mediocre small talk , but whenever the woman attempted an escape she was ushered back onto the linoleum and told by her boss to keep her chin raised with a fake smile . “ it’s not draining for me . it’s made a dull chore turn into something exciting — well , as exciting as going to get cat food can possibly be , “ they were hardly bungee jumping or skydiving , but the painted smile across her lips belonged to nabeel and his slightly timid interactions . holding the plastic bags in the crooks of her elbows , they continued onto the high street in step . 

If it hadn't been for working overtime and compensation, Nabeel would have never been able to pay for housing in general. Along with the help from his aunt, who popped out of thin air when he needed it the most. “ I don’t know if I could ever live in a house like that. The size makes me overwhelmed. I wouldn't stop spending stuff to fill it up. ” He frowns at the mere thought. “ And I’m no good interior designer— so that wouldn't be the prettiest sight. ”

for striker his driving couldn’t be faulted . it got him from point A to point B , which was more than enough for him — what more could be expected , being raised on tractors and combine harvesters ?? those poor , worn tires of the pickup — long overdue a service from sanders’ autobody — screeched against tarmac as they sped through the town and made the janky , clumsy transition to dirt roads and succulent-lined pathways . throughout the journey his screeching tennessee drawl rung out over the radio for nabeel’s entertainment ( or , more likely , to his dismay ) ; striker would be winning no karaoke competitions with those lungs , and yet it would take a lot more than a severe lack of talent to stop him trying . such a sentiment carried him throughout his life — the eldest cannon may not have been talented at , well , just about anything , but he sure as hell tried his best .

their journey was nothing short of a whirlwind , but after ten minutes lined with terror wheels turned and rolled up the gravel drive to the farmhouse . puhlman’s was a rundown working ranch , with grazing cattle and corn grown chin-high as far as the eye could see ; the crops were far from perfect , the buildings had seen better days , but it was as close to home as striker had seen in two decades , and so beggars couldn’t be choosers . tugging the gearstick back the male parked up ( almost diagonally , having never learned how to paralell park correctly ) , glancing over at nabeel with his grey-flecked brows furrowed as if to ask : what the hell is wrong with you ??

“I hope you don't mind me asking, ” Nabeel mumbles as he sits on the ground, not trusting his stumbling feet to hold for long. “but when is the last time you renewed your driver's license??” Or should he have asked if Striker even had one? I mean, when someone told Nabeel that the police weren't quite active in this town, he didn't expect it to be to this extent. “No offense or anything! Just, surprised. If you were driving like that somewhere else you wouldn't even get a warning.”

With the decade or so that Nabeel has been driving, he's never gotten a ticket. The papers of yellow — and sometimes cream or pink — were only known of due to his friends, who often didn't care for speed limits on highways. A common occurrence that most young drivers tend to be speeders, especially when they're escaping from a city that has streets of metal, gas-eating snails.

“You’re really good at this, you know,” she commented with a wider smile, everything the man was saying only serving to bolster her confidence to a degree that hadn’t previously been there. “It’s definitely not easy, but I hope…I hope it all works out. You’re right, I really just have to put my mind to it and work hard. It may take awhile, but I think…I think I have to make it work. I don’t want to go back to what I was doing and I’m sure there are other careers out there, but I want this.” Esmeray didn’t know what it was about the other man that made it easy to open up about her insecurities revolving around her job situation. Maybe because he was a stranger, maybe because his advice was exactly what she needed to hear. “I’ll have to remember to come find you next time I need a pep talk.”

“ I would hope so, or that decade of studying psychiatry would have been for nothing. ” He shrugs, smiling with a new delight at the comment. Nabeel has always struggled with communication, especially with strangers and their random talks about emotions. Which was quite a predicament as he always wanted to be able to help others before knowing them, as talking to strangers about your troubles is a bit— easier. “ Already with the positive thinking, that’s great !! ” It only takes a couple of minutes to help people push away the thoughts of the worse. “ I’m always available for a pep talk. It’d definitely be a nice change from talking to the cats all the time… Don’t get me wrong, I love them and all but — ” He looks over at Garbanzo, watching as the cat aggressively air-swats at an afar squirrel. “ our communication isn't as efficient. ” It took years for Nabeel to even understand which pitch of meows mean ‘outside.’ And now, with all that experience, he still struggles differentiating the ‘food meow’ and ‘attention meow.’

Patrick wasn't too much of a social being these days, usually keeping to himself, it wasn't in his nature to talk so openly to strangers but in a way, he craved that kind of contact, so he was thankful for a moment of human interaction. "Oh - no, those two are fine around cats. They've known other animals growing up, it's not a problem at all," he assured, giving a nod to confirm that it would be fine and he couldn't help but let out another small laugh at the sight. "Well, you weren't lying about that." He watched Meadow for a moment, petting behind her ears as he praised her being good despite so many exciting things happening. "It must be nice not to have a care in the world," he joked, looking down at their pets. "Meadow here is younger than Jet," Patrick went on, gesturing at the black lab who seemed pretty unaffected by the overall situation. "So she's a little more temperamental but we - I was hoping his personality would rub off on her a little as she grew up but I guess, just like us, she has a mind of her own. Which is good - for the most part. Keeps me on my toes."

“ Shoe is my sassy youngster, Garbanzo is my Mr. Wise. ” He kneels down, giving a small ‘hello’ to the dogs before smothering Shoe with a comforting hand. “ Do you three walk out here often?? I just started creating a schedule and if you’d like, I can change it up to not bother you… I know a lot of people like to walk into the woods for some personal time. ” To keep his anxiety low, Nabeel had maintained a proper schedule all his life. The altercation of change always makes him emotional and overfilled with stress, but he's gotten calmer throughout the years. Finding random things to do throughout the day to expose him to the fears helped a lot too.

“ holy shit! ” Sprawling out his limbs like a spider clinging to a web, he tries his best to maintain some sort of balance in this new perdition. The claws of his buddy poked into his chest as it maintains somewhat still in the closed-off jacket that he managed to nestle into seconds before the gates of hell were open. What another — lively, way to bring some excitement to someone’s already so active morning, right??

Before he could yell out for some possible mercy, the music blasts— successfully silencing him further into absolute chaos. The streets and what he could only assume were the figures of people on the sidewalk, zoomed past his frantic vision. The warmth of his body accelerating by the second like the sun had just hit its all-time high, and the truck was absorbing all the heat. The music blasting made it even worse and reminded him of the sleepless nights he had when he stayed at a friend's apartment. Their tiny home just beside the street where you could hear the whole performance of the city ( aka screaming, crying, honking, etc ).

“ a name says a lot about a person , “ which is why she had asked . a name was the first glimpse into a soul , the first thing you read on a page , the first indicator of a human … however nabeel had acquired his , whether it was a familial pattern or plucked from a baby-name book , it was interesting to her . ender was interested in a lot of things , her brain a constant trough of information — every fact , figure and obscure tidbit was fused into her memory like a cattle brand . “ and how you wear it says a lot about a person , too . i’m an ender , you’re a nabeel . you see what i mean ?? “ she spoke as though the meaning of her words were transparent , that he was on the same wavelength . ender hoped , to some extent , that he was , or perhaps that was her mind trailing off ahead of her better judgement once again . 

“ Actually... yeah, pretty much. It's nice to talk-talk to someone. Usually, when I talk to others it can be, draining, for them. ” He shrugs, pinching at the gold packaging with the thought. In no way was he complaining about his work— it’s just rare for him to actually converse with people outside of it. “ Probably. I might take the cats on a walk before home, just to tire them out. ” He offers a comforting smile, letting the remaining stress fly away with a steep exhale. He's heard about the woods nearby, he’ll strap them in their glow-in-the-dark harnesses and collars and let them explore a bit. They won't go too far either, the cats constantly making sure Nabeel is following them as if he's the one going on the walk.

“ I doubt that you’ll have to use the other plan. I mean, you've already planned on what you want to do and you're taking the steps to exceed that. All it takes now patience and the right networking. ” He admires nature for a wavering second, letting the memories flood over his vision. The small talks from years ago caused a smile to embrace his lips and compliment his admiring eyes. “ But, if something does happen, there's a variety of other things to do instead of pursuing medical. After all, there are a dozen and one types of careers that’ll fit your interests. It might be difficult changing the profession or trying to be flexible but— to me, you seem like you can do anything you put your mind to… That’s just what I believe though. ”

"Meadow - no!" He scolded, glad that he'd done the work when she was still a puppy and she was quick to settle next to him again. "God, no, you're fine! It's just that she saw a squirrel and thought we were going to play," Patrick explained, holding on to his dogs' leashes a little tighter, glad that they hadn't been roaming free, just to make sure this would be the last of it. "No, no. I'm not hurt but I'm terribly sorry about this, I didn't mean to scare you all," he told the other, an awkward laugh threatening to escape at the overall situation - as if he was part of some slapstick sketch and the laugh track would go off at any given second. "They know that cats are friends and honestly, they think everyone is which makes for situations like these...I don't think those two will ever learn that not everyone likes a friendly game of catch."

“ Shoe just likes causing problems with dogs. ” Nabeel faintly smiles, sharing an awkward mortification. While the training shows with the older cat, it's growing painfully obvious that the younger one is going to need a bit more time. “ I understand. Shoe will go after anyone for love— who isn't a dog. Garbanzo likes dogs though, if you don't mind him being curious. ” On cue, like a release command, Garbanzo shoves his face against the dog. A loud purr erupted soon after the contact. “ Awkward for us but just another day for them I guess. ”

Once exchanged, he shoves his wallet back into the depths of the jeans. A challenge he’ll struggle with later, again. “ It’s great that you are investing your interests into a business. Once it picks up I don't think it’ll ease either, which is a good thing for great income! ” Nabeel over his near, if not actual decade of working as a psychiatrist, has heard many talk about the dreams of their own business. Whether it be custom clothing, jewelry, or something equally as creative as this dungeons and dragons stuff, it's always been something he's endorsed. It’s like he's a cheerleader, heavily supported no matter what the outcome results are. After all, things take time! All you need to get through it is some practice and— y’know, a cheerleader.

Smiling to himself, he focuses on the array of cat food. The variety stored in bags for dry all the way up to the expensive-looking cans of wet. “ Don’t tell them it passed your mind though. Garbanzo isn't as understanding. ” With being a couple years older than his brother, the cat showed the difference in personality and wisdom in interesting ways. Whether it be through showing the struggling Shoe how to go through a cat door or getting Nabeel’s attention when he isn't looking, Garbanzo was the source. That also meant his personality was far more developed. And his owner's forgetfulness shows that with irritated glares and side eyes. The ‘anger’ never sticks for long, he just wants you to know he isn't the happiest with you then.