Richard Angevin

Guinevere shrugged.  “Wise… or learned the hard way.  I suppose they are rather the same, aren’t they?” She watched him struggle and blink, and she frowned.  “You do not remember?  I have never been to your home, so I don’t know.  But I do know a way to find out.  You have a brother here, John.  Do you mind if I ask him?”  She looked over his clothing.  “You have indeed.  You are usually well-dressed.” 

Richard pulled his eyes away from the tears in his clothes, eyebrows twitching curiously with the revelation. “A brother? Well, I don’t see the harm in it. I would imagine he knows me far better than anyone else in this town,” he mused with a brief nod.

“That is true,” she acknowledged. Where she was treading a bit lightly and Richard didn’t seem to be quite himself, she didn’t disclose that most of the fault in the marriage had been hers. “So long, I suppose, as long as we provide an honest accounting of our own, at least to ourselves.”

Originally posted by celoewe

“A wise evaluation,” he smiled with a fraction of a nod. “So, I-” He blinked through the darkness to faint glow of city light on the horizon. “Which way is it to my home. I assume I have a home that is. Only, it’s a little cold out and I think,” he fingered a hold in his shirt, “I have been better dressed.”

He still seemed off about the two of them, but it wasn’t like she could go back and change what they had done together.  Nor would she want to.  He had been a good time, and she knew she had been for him.  They were two consenting adults, so she had no reason to feel ashamed for what they did.  He didn’t either, but it wasn’t like she could control how he felt.  She sighed at his question, offered as close to a smile as she could before suggesting, “Should I just walk you there?  I have nothing else to do, and I’d rather you not get lost.”

“I’ll take the offer. Can’t say no to a personal tour guide,” he smiled, thankful for the offer. Richard had spent far too much tie recently getting lost than was good for him. Especially given his career. Of course, he’d had time off to assimilate to his injury - if it was an injury at all. But the days upon his return had been a struggle to say the least and he hadn’t sunk an deals yet. Likely because you had to find a house before you sold it to anyone.

“Yeah, it’s in… Berk, I think,” she told him.  Her eyes rolled at his last comment, her hand reaching into her purse to pull out her notepad and pen.  “If ‘nice’ becomes too boring for you, give me a call,” she offered, writing her number down, ripping the page out, and handing it to him.  “Or if you need help with anything else.  I’m trying this whole ‘be nicer’ thing, so even if it’s not for a booty call, I’m your girl.”  Sure, things between her and Richard had mostly been physical, but if she didn’t want to end up completely alone, making friends and creating relationships that weren’t solely based on sex was a good start to preventing that.

“Oh,” he hummed, glancing down at the note and taking it anyway. Perhaps it wasn’t executed in gentlest of forms but he had to admit that that offer was kind, in its own way. At least, the second half of the offer. Not the part where she seemed to be proposing intercourse. As much as he- No. No.

“I’ll definitely keep it with me. Thank you. And-” He glanced down the street. It was taking rather a lot of time to regain his bearings in the town. “Which way is Berk?”

“In my case, mostly with my ex-husband.  I’m not sure he’s transitioning to life here all that well.  But he basically hates my living, breathing guts.” 

“Oh. That’s sad to her. But I suppose one can’t hold themselves accountable for another’s failings.” Now,  that was something he felt in his core. Though he wasn’t sure who or what he was, something in bones knew it for certain.

Her brow remained raised when he sounded almost disappointed to find out they had slept together.  “You enjoyed yourself, if I remember correctly.  I mean, sure it didn’t last between us, but I’m pretty sure that was mostly because you were involved with someone else at the time.  Honestly, it was so long ago, the details are a bit foggy, but it wasn’t like we didn’t have a good time together,” she told him, assuming it would help.  “Lottie, yeah.  She’s always coming around Tiana’s to chat with her friend - my boss.  Pretty sure she works at a hotel now though?  She’s got nice shoes, but that’s usually all I really pay attention to when she comes in.  She’s too… bubbly for me.  Seems nice enough, but I’m not entirely sure what you see in her.”

His lips pressed awkwardly apart. This certainly didn’t seem to be painting him in a good light, if anything they wrote in the bible he kept on him was anything to go by. But then, perhaps he was not the sort of person to care. Though raised the question of why he owned the things at all.

Though, equally, he wondered if this might have been the second chance for a sinner. If he’d caved to temptation before - after all, she was certainly tempting; a veritable feast for the eyes - this may have been his route to redemption.

“The hotel?” That couldn’t be too hard to find. He offered a thankful smile and nodded. “Nice is good enough for me.”

She smiled, even wrinkling her nose at him.  “Do you believe so?  Because I have some experience where attempts to help actually worsened a situation.” 

He tilted his head and offered a slight shrug. It didn’t quite line up with the dictionary definition of ‘help’ as he understood it, but perhaps that was how things worked in reality. “Really? Such as?”

G had no idea what had happened to him, but it was becoming more obvious by the second it was something drastic.  He was so different from the person she’d known him to be.  “Perhaps you can hold off on the accolades until I figure out what the something might be.  It’s entirely possible my efforts to help are misguided or insincere.” 

He frowned a moment and nodded, though he was wasn’t entirely certain he agreed. Sure, it could go badly. But so could a lot of things. “Some help is always better than none, though.”

Her brows shot up at his admission, her eyes scanning him over, as if there might be something about him that would explain why he couldn’t remember her.  “I’m Chel.  We’ve slept together, but that’s about as far as it went.  Last I heard, you were dating my boss’s best friend.  Lottie, I think her name is.  Not too sure you made the right choice when I was an option, but to each their own,” she shrugged, crossing her arms over her chest.  “So what actually happened to you?  Or do you not remember that either?”

His eyebrows knotted together. “Oh,” he said quietly. Slept together. He might have lost his memories but he wasn’t naive enough to not know what that meant. There was a picture of himself building around him and, honestly, as an outside observer, he wasn’t sure if he liked it much. Though he had to admit the girl before him was nothing short of stunning and perhaps, if given the chance again, he wouldn’t mind-... He remembered the little bible in his pocket and pushed away the thought, lingering now on the thought of a young woman who might be other there looking for him.

“I- Not a clue. But, er, who was this woman again? This Lottie?”

“No, that’s true, and I like to think I am capable of good deeds and being helpful regardless of my faith.  However, that is not necessarily in accordance with the preacher who runs the church.  It seemed best to part ways and for me to find another manner of helping the world.” 

“Well, I commend you for it,” he smiled softly. Perhaps, if all the souls in town were just as nice, he’d be back to normal in no time. He hoped.... whatever normal was.

She wasn’t entirely sure she’d heard him say thank you in the entire time she’d known him.  It almost made her frown, but she had more composure than that, and she kept her expression neutral as she watched him work through things.  He was still quick, still sounded the same as far as his voice, still looked the same.  He lacked the certain swagger of a man perpetually about to get laid, but otherwise… this was a tame version of the same Richard.  She very nearly had herself convinced. 

“You work in real estate, I believe.  As for me… I recently left my job as a social coordinator at the church in town.  I’m trying to find something where the boss is less alarming and the job more palatable. I’m not the most faithful person.” 

Now, the church he knew of. In his heart he knew it meant only good things. That the good got blessed and the bad punished. He wasn’t sure how not knowing who or what you were fell onto that spectrum. And though she admitted she’d left and was not of a faith herself, he still saw as an agent of this force of good.

Real estate on the other hand was something he was slightly less aware of.

“You don’t need faith to do good deeds.”

The way he acted threw her even more off.  She was expecting some flirtation and inappropriate touching, but instead, she noticed him reach for something in his pocket instead.  A laugh escaped her at his question, her hand reaching over to playfully smacking his arm before replying, “Very funny.  You hit your head or something?”

His nails picked at the seam of his pocket. He was growing to hate this, all the uncertainty, all the potential friendships his mind had built a wall between. He’d hoped to find his mystery brother by now, to guide him through the worst but even there he was at a blanket. “I...” He let out a hard breath. “Something like that.”

The worst part was possibly not knowing what happened and why. A hit head sounded like he best explanation for now.

Chel let out a startled noise when he nearly dropped her, her feet finding the ground quickly before he faced her.  “Yeah, I’m sorry if I scared you.  How’ve you been, hermoso?” she asked, looking at him curiously.  Something about him seemed off, but she couldn’t figure out what.

“No problem,” he hummed eyes searching the ground for a moment, a little scared to look up. Over the weeks, he could almost anticipate the expectant eyes of someone who thought they knew him and he was growing to fear the look of disappointment when they realised he didn’t know them. He grasped at the miniature bible in his breast pocket for comfort. “I’ve been... good? What was your name again?”

She watched him absorb the precious little she’d offered, and she recommitted to handling him with care.  He was very clearly affected by something that undermined his usual brash, cocky nature.  “My name is Guinevere, but because it is a mouthful and carries some notoriety, you may call me G.” 

That name sounded familiar. It all sounded familiar, like he’d heard it all before. Like the word that sat on the tip of your tongue, wanting to come forward. You were sure it had an M in it somewhere but it just wouldn’t quite budge. “Thank you, G.” He thought about introducing himself, but it wouldn’t have been very successful and she probably knew more than him already. “What do you do, G?...  What do I do, G?”

She leaned close to peer at him, humming in consideration. “No, you are an entirely ordinary person, unfortunately. Why are you all the way out here?”

“I.... don’t know,” he sighed. It felt like that was becoming a phrase he was saying rather too much at the moment. And, if he could help it, he wouldn’t. There was something of a dictionary of definitions in his mind. But past that, it was blank.

Guinevere shook her head.  She thought perhaps it best he guide their conversation and ask what he was wondering, without her volunteering too much information.  He wasn’t quite himself and the last thing she wanted to do, while they were alone in the woods, was to overwhelm him.  

“No, this isn’t the start.  I cannot say for certain where your start was, for I’ve only known you here.  I don’t know how you came to be here.  You and I met when I dated your brother, John.  You are called Richard.” 

Richard. A brother. That was a start at least. Something in his heart said families were not always as they seemed. Though he ignored it. His blood was out there somewhere and it almost served as a reassurance. “And what was your name again?”