Sunshine and Sand

When you need to talk… "I’ll listen," she whispered. I’m not much, but I won’t ever… B-E-T-R-A-Y your trust. She fingerspelled the one word that she couldn’t call to mind, a little nervous to be so honest, and so… raw, out loud. Something about her promise made her feel vulnerable, even though she was the one that was promising integrity. 

Wanting to say more, but not knowing what or how, Prilla’s hands stilled. But her smile remained, stronger now. To think that such a short time ago, she couldn’t force a smile if she tried.

I will call you if I ever need to talk, Sanford smiled meekly as he signed, the entire concept of him calling anyone was amusing to the masseuse. Thank you, you have my unwavering trust. Sanford’s signs were strong, as if by using the word unwavering, his actions had themselves become that. You are so much more than you think. He then formed a P and held it at over his heart, moving in a circular pattern, before pointing at the young woman seated on the bench with him.

Prilla.  

Pointing the kid in Barrel’s direction, not even knowing where his friend had stored the power tool after their last carpentry project, he looked over to see that the man was still standing there, looking at his shoes. “So you aren’t a tech?” Zane asked, eyebrow quirking. Any techie he’d come across so far would be off on their next project as soon as one was finished. “Are you? It’s a shame, we can always use more hands.”

Sanford shook his head no, but followed it with a rapid smile. He pointed to himself, the middle of his chest and then used his hands to sign. A fist on an open palm, bringing both out towards Zane. He knew that the young man would not get it immediately, but he was unsure if the tech knew that he did not speak yet. Sanford shrugged, tilting his head to the side, wishing there was a clear way for him to offer himself as a second set of hands.  

Placing the paper and pen on the counter, he looked at the man, offering a polite, though brief smile. “If you need any help, or want to order,” he glanced down at the pad, then back to the man, “You can write it down?” It was an idea. And it was worth a try. Hopefully the man was literate. There was no reason not to be, even if one was a mute.

Something strong, caffeine. Whatever you would recommend. Thank you. 

Handing the notepad to the man, Sanford offered a smile with it, although the muscles in his face were a bit sluggish to respond. The normally active and lively man had been taken down a few notches. 

That was Cyril’s current predicament, a muscle in his back sore and bothering him. And according to the few sources he’d checked, other than rest and relaxation, which he hadn’t the time for, a massage supposedly would help a lot. So he’d called a masseuse in town, maybe the only one, he’d called the first number he saw and didn’t put much thought into it, deciding he’d visit after his daily work out. He might not be able to lift weights today, but there were other muscle groups he didn’t want to neglect.

It was shortly after three o’clock when he’d gotten to the masseuse, walking in to see a man sitting there, seeming to expect him. “I called earlier,” Cyril said, assuming the man remembered.

Standing and nodding, Sanford motioned to the table, showing his client that this was his space to unwind. He pinched at his own shirt and then pointed to a small end table, the place where people usually folded and placed their clothing before the massage. He then gave a slight bow, excusing himself out of the room so that his client could undress and lay down on the table.

No, she definitely heard it that time. Some sort of skittering. “Hello? I think someone else is in here…” still seeing mostly blackness, Abril turned backwards, towards the sound. “Hey… is there someone there? Are you okay?” she swallowed. When did her mucus become so thick? It was coating her throat, making her voice hoarse. “Com… come this way, if you can? I can’t see you.” the young woman’s heart was pounding in her chest, reverberating all the way to her throat and stomach. 

I… can’t… see. 

Kyrie was thankful that the bathroom wasn’t large. It was spacious, yes. But in terms of room it wasn’t nearly the size of the ballroom or the others rooms. She waited a moment, letting her eyes adjust to the new light. Keeping it down, so it wouldn’t hurt the eyes of the other two. She looked over the floor, ensuring it was just rubble she was walking past and made her way towards the woman she could now tell to be a redhead. 

At the beckoning of the woman, Sanford stood up, his knees shaky. His whole body shaky, as if the earthquake was still happening below his unsteady feet.

The burst of light in the bathroom, while blinding, filled the mute man with such hope. He glanced around at his surroundings, watching the monsters of his nightmares jump backwards, burned by the light. A cell phone flashlight was a better weapon to Sanford than a sharpened blade.

Sanford obeyed the order, not too keen on testing his ability to walk and happy to remain in the light, away from his worst fear. 

A few minutes later, he was done, and stepped away, just a few centimeters really, as there wasn’t much room on the scaffold deck. Looking over, he saw that the man was still there, and his eyebrow quirked, “Um, you can go down, man. I usually just take care of lights myself, I’m a crap teacher, and I sincerely doubt you get how this works, unless you have credentials or something. But then there’s other stuff you can be doing, this really is a one man job, for the most part.”

When everything was done, Sanford supposed that Zane was surprised that he stuck around on the narrow space of the scaffolding. He formed an O with his mouth before backing up to climb down. He did not have the credentials. He did not even have a job here. He was probably overstaying his welcome, and he did not know what other things he could be doing.

Once down on the ground again, Sanford looked at his shoes and waiting for Zane to join him. He wanted to at least thank the man and say goodbye before going on his way.  

After a few more moments, Sanford realized that his silence was unnerving to the man, or at the very least, concerning. The mute did his usual spiel to explain his silence; it was an extravagant expression involving pointing to his mouth and shaking his head no, followed by some brief, pointless sign language. People tended to get uncomfortable with sign language. It was not his intention to make anyone uncomfortable, but he did not want people to get frustrated with his lack of speaking either. 

Sanford Mann || 35 || Masseuse || TAKEN

Character: ”Sandy” Sandman | Rise of the Guardians

Personality:

→ Good Listener, Selfless, Kind

→ Quiet, Easy to Overlook, Trusting

Background:

For as long as anyone can remember, Sanford has never muttered a word. Most thought he was simply deaf, but it becomes clear that he can hear everything around him. Sanford suffers from selective mutism, a curse he has been stuck with since the curse began. It doesn’t bother Sanford much, he finds actions are louder than words, but people around him often misunderstand him. He use to talk often, namely with one Malakai Pitchiner. He was full of wisdom and wonderful words, and the two would often meet to share the stories of their days. But ever since the suspected murder of Malakai’s family, and his sudden change in character, Sanford hasn’t had much to say, or anyone to say it to.

Sanford is a masseuse, and his clients tend not to care whether he talks or not, as long as he can listen. He treasures dreams over anything else, something he and Malakai use to share. A good nights rest and an active dream life can cure just about any bad mood. He just wished Malakai was as easy to ‘cure’. Sanford found new friend, in his fellow guardians from his past life. He is also aware of Malakai’s influence on the young boy Jack, and is determined not to let the boy fall onto the same road as his past friend. Sanford is noble and would sacrifice himself for the good of others. He’s selfless, and happy to listen, as long as you can understand his ‘language’.

Sanford has no memories of his past life, but his dreams are clear as day. Clearer, sometimes. And every so often, he’ll dream images of grand creatures crafted from golden sand.

Relationships:

Nicolas Nordic - Friend

E. Aster Raymond - Friend

Trudy Halina - Friend

Jack Overland - Friend, Wishes to Protect Him

Malakai Pitchiner - Once Dear Old Friend

Especially so when his next sentences registered. How alone he was, it saddened Prilla far beyond the effect of her own plight. He didn’t deserve to be alone. He was warm, like Brooke, or Treven. And though she wasn’t sensitive to the nuances of people’s characters in the way that he was, Prilla could tell enough to know that her new friend deserved to be heard, too.

I can’t imagine not feeling happy, with you. she admitted. I am happy now. You made me happy. Though it might have seemed strange to say so with tear tracks still on her cheeks and a mouth that was too exhausted to remember to smile, something inside of her felt lighter, just to know that someone else understood her. That maybe she’d be okay.

Sanford, she carefully formed his sign name, You… "are kind.” she whispered that last, though her hands still moved with her voice. “I hope… you aren’t lonely.” You don’t deserve to feel lonely…

There were times when Sanford found himself in a similar situation. But, with no one to talk to and his friends busy with their own tragedies, he found himself alone in that situation. Lonely.

Lonely. The word rang in Sanford’s head as the girl on the bench with him spoke aloud. He was lonely a lot. It didn’t matter if he deserved it or not, he was. But, silence was a friend that never betrayed.

I – Sanford pointed to himself, wondering if he should lie, focus on Prilla. But, if he could finally talk to someone, without actually talking, what did it mean if he chose to use his precious few words in deception. I am lonely a lot. But, I am not lonely now. With you. You make me happy too. 

"I’m Zane," he smiled, offering his hand, deciding that the light could wait a few minutes while he introduced himself. In his experience, the tech crew were nice people, so why not make friends. "Nice to meet you. Are you new here? Or did someone get you to help out?"

And with that, Sanford shook the hand that was extended to him, a light smile on his face. While he may not be employed here, the masseuse was good with his hands, and with tools, and he would help out whatever way he could; maybe learn a thing or two along the way. That was exciting to the mute man. 

Zane was up in the scaffold, trying to focus stage lights, yet again. Usually it only had to be done once, but someone had thought it smart to send the new kid up, without anyone who knew how to do it, and though the lights seemed okay, when they were all on at once, individually the focus was a mess. And to make it worse, they’d tried to focus the lights with the handle in the back, a huge no-no, as that was only for taking off the bulb, and they’d quickly learned that those break, easily. 

But he was the resident lighting expert, apparently, and after doing lights for more than a dozen shows, at that point, he was doing pretty well fixing them. The only problem was that one of the knobs on the lights, the one he needed in order to loosen the part of the fixture that would need focusing, was stuck. And there was only so much strength even a techie could apply.

"Hey!" he stuck his head over the edge of the scaffold, looking down at whoever was on the stage below, "Can someone grab a pair of pliers and bring it up here?"

Sanford had no idea what he was doing here. He met someone here to buy a piece for his motorcycle, which had broken down again. The masseuse did not so much mind the labor of fixing his bike, but his mode of transportation was beginning to become a costly transaction. At least when all the pieces that broke were particular, and not to be found in the local junkyard. But what he was doing handing around the stage well after he had what he came for, that was what he did not know. Maybe he was curious about the work being done. Maybe he was bored.

But at least he could be useful. He grabbed the pliers out of a nearby toolbox and scaled the scaffolding to hand the electrical technician the tool. 

Nick was in charge of opening today. It was true that Hayden was in the back, but with him busy cooking, and Nick manning the customers, they didn’t see each other. His brother may as well not have been there. There was no one else working the morning shift today, and though he usually wouldn’t have minded working early, or on his own, but he hadn’t slept all of the night before. Nightmares haunted Nick from time to time, of that day at the altar, the horrible memory never quite erasing itself from the back of his mind. Some days it was worse than others, but the previous night it had kept him awake for hours.

Shaking his head slightly, trying to avoid thinking about it, he looked at the coffee by his hand, thanking whoever had come up with caffeinated beverages wholeheartedly, and taking a long sip. That was when he noticed someone standing right in front of him, someone he had somehow managed to ignore. “How can I help you?” he grumbled, too tired to fake enthusiasm and politeness at that moment.

Last night, Sanford woke to find that his nightlight had burnt out; in that moment, he swore he saw those hellhounds, with black, dripping saliva, ready to tear his heart from his chest.

Needless to say, the score was Nightmares 2, Sanford 0.

The masseuse had a long day ahead of him. While that was a good thing for his bank account, his stomach had that empty ache after a sleepless night, the one that followed you like a ghost and left you feeling hollow. His answer was coffee; thick black caffeine. He stood, staring blankly up at the board of choices, as his mind was stuck in limbo between sleep and decision.

The voice of the man shook him from his daze and Sanford just gave a weary, confused glance, not sure what type of coffee to choose as he usually brewed his own tea.