Post by Deleted on Dec 3, 2017 8:07:30 GMT -8
Things still wouldn't click into place and he wasn't sure that they ever would. That was the strange thing about memory loss.
You didn't know when or if the memories would ever surge back, and if they did? Who said you would get them all back at once? Some people were tortured by only bits and pieces of the person that they once were, but Rhafiel had experienced none of that.
To a point.
He was fairly certain he may have broken Damian initially, but... things were looking up. Rhafiel wouldn't have figured out that he had had a penthouse in Faraday if it weren't for Damian and after doing some more digging, Rhafiel had located the landlord of the building and had dropped by to ask about the location of his belongings. It took a moment for the landlord to compose himself.
"You're supposed to be missing..."
"...I'm taking care of that today."
"Where did you go?"
"Honestly? I have no idea. I'm sorry, I don't even recognize you, either."
"Amnesia?"
"The worst."
"Uhhh... well. I'll take you to your things then?"
"That would be lovely."
The landlord was a little younger than Rhafiel. Maybe in his late twenties early thirties. He silently wondered if this was a family business or if he simply got stuck with an odd college job. Or post-college job. That was an option too.
He didn't get to speculate for very long, however, because the landlord lead him to a large storage unit and slipped the key into Rhafiel's hand. "Everything should be in there. I've piled all of your mail into a box on the table near the front. I took the liberty of sorting all of the junk ads and such from everything that looked important, so there shouldn't be as much to sort through."
Rhafiel stared at the man with a furrowed brow. "Uh, thanks," he said lightly, glancing down at the key. Moving to the storm door on the side of the storage unit, Rhafiel pressed the key into the lock and turned it, listening to the deadbolt click. For some reason he took pause, breathing out slowly with his eyes closed. Why was he so unsure of setting foot in here?
What would he find?
What if he was some sort of ax murderer and he had no idea?
Wouldn't Damian have told him that, though?
And why wouldn't Damian have been dead if he was?
'That's a really stupid fear, Rhafiel. Just open the damn door,' he chastised himself lightly, his brow furrowed.
Turning the knob, he pushed the door open, breathing out slowly as he flicked the light on. Perfectly normal furniture and things packed neatly into boxes. The landlord had been careful and considerate. Was it so unusual for him to disappear that the man would have held onto all of this stuff for him?
Rhafiel reminded himself that he should thank the landlord later.
For a while, Rhafiel sifted through the things he could probably take back with him to Damian's. Things like clothes, some of his books, his laptop that had been lovingly packed away. He'd have to come back for it later in the day due to a few errands, but he piled everything he needed by the door of the unit.
Figuring it would be a good idea to sort through his mail, Rhafiel sat himself on the table with the box of mail, dumping it out beside him. He sorted things out by size, flipping through all of the mail and finding every vital piece that he'd take with him back to Damian's. A lot of it wasn't so vital that he had to open it right then and there. However, one of the letters was a large manila envelope.
The envelope had landed face down on the table and he hadn't thought anything of it at the time. He'd wanted to sort through the smaller pieces of mail before digging through the larger pieces that were more likely to be junk.
He froze when he flipped the envelope over, staring down at the insignia on the front. It was heavy. There wasn't just a letter inside.
'The University?'
Carefully slipping his finger under the flap of the envelope, it opened relatively easily. Rhafiel extracted the letter on the very top slowly, leaving the softer object inside while he surveyed the words. Confusion settled in his chest as his eyes trailed across the page. His heart rate picked up. He could hardly comprehend what the words on the page said and after a few seconds he just gave up.
Rhafiel snatched up the envelope, pulling out the object. It was rectangular and it appeared to open like a notebook. The name of the University was printed on the front. Rhafiel swallowed hard, slowly flipping it open and removing the small piece of protective tissue paper.
It was his...
His doctorate diploma?
His hands started to tremble slightly, his eyes fixed on the page. Out of everything that he could have forgotten, this had to be one of the worst things. He didn't even remember submitting his final dissertation... but he remembered everything he had ever learned about his major.
He would work this. He had a direction now.
He'd worked for Interpol, but that had meant absolutely nothing to him when he'd been told. He didn't... feel anything. This, though... this changed everything.
This was honestly the best thing he had figured out about himself in the few days since Damian had explained everything to him. He could feel a weight lifting, the tension relieving slightly from his shoulders.
It wasn't much, but it was a start.
Clearing his throat, Rhafiel slipped off the table, closing the case and gathering up the mail he was taking with him. He carefully slipped all of it into the same case as his laptop and left the unit, locking the door behind him. His next stop was Interpol, though he supposed it should have probably been his first stop in Faraday.
It was time to show them that he wasn't dead or missing.
But that was the very least of it all.
There was much that would need to be discussed.
Meeting Nyx outside the unit, he sighed lightly and patted her head gently. "Let's go to Interpol. Can you lead me there, Nyx?" he asked softly. Purring lightly, Nyx nudged his hand in confirmation and started to lead them back toward the sidewalk. Rhafiel slipped the storage unit key into his pocket and fished out his phone, sending Damian a text as they walked.
They needed to talk.
You didn't know when or if the memories would ever surge back, and if they did? Who said you would get them all back at once? Some people were tortured by only bits and pieces of the person that they once were, but Rhafiel had experienced none of that.
To a point.
He was fairly certain he may have broken Damian initially, but... things were looking up. Rhafiel wouldn't have figured out that he had had a penthouse in Faraday if it weren't for Damian and after doing some more digging, Rhafiel had located the landlord of the building and had dropped by to ask about the location of his belongings. It took a moment for the landlord to compose himself.
"You're supposed to be missing..."
"...I'm taking care of that today."
"Where did you go?"
"Honestly? I have no idea. I'm sorry, I don't even recognize you, either."
"Amnesia?"
"The worst."
"Uhhh... well. I'll take you to your things then?"
"That would be lovely."
The landlord was a little younger than Rhafiel. Maybe in his late twenties early thirties. He silently wondered if this was a family business or if he simply got stuck with an odd college job. Or post-college job. That was an option too.
He didn't get to speculate for very long, however, because the landlord lead him to a large storage unit and slipped the key into Rhafiel's hand. "Everything should be in there. I've piled all of your mail into a box on the table near the front. I took the liberty of sorting all of the junk ads and such from everything that looked important, so there shouldn't be as much to sort through."
Rhafiel stared at the man with a furrowed brow. "Uh, thanks," he said lightly, glancing down at the key. Moving to the storm door on the side of the storage unit, Rhafiel pressed the key into the lock and turned it, listening to the deadbolt click. For some reason he took pause, breathing out slowly with his eyes closed. Why was he so unsure of setting foot in here?
What would he find?
What if he was some sort of ax murderer and he had no idea?
Wouldn't Damian have told him that, though?
And why wouldn't Damian have been dead if he was?
'That's a really stupid fear, Rhafiel. Just open the damn door,' he chastised himself lightly, his brow furrowed.
Turning the knob, he pushed the door open, breathing out slowly as he flicked the light on. Perfectly normal furniture and things packed neatly into boxes. The landlord had been careful and considerate. Was it so unusual for him to disappear that the man would have held onto all of this stuff for him?
Rhafiel reminded himself that he should thank the landlord later.
For a while, Rhafiel sifted through the things he could probably take back with him to Damian's. Things like clothes, some of his books, his laptop that had been lovingly packed away. He'd have to come back for it later in the day due to a few errands, but he piled everything he needed by the door of the unit.
Figuring it would be a good idea to sort through his mail, Rhafiel sat himself on the table with the box of mail, dumping it out beside him. He sorted things out by size, flipping through all of the mail and finding every vital piece that he'd take with him back to Damian's. A lot of it wasn't so vital that he had to open it right then and there. However, one of the letters was a large manila envelope.
The envelope had landed face down on the table and he hadn't thought anything of it at the time. He'd wanted to sort through the smaller pieces of mail before digging through the larger pieces that were more likely to be junk.
He froze when he flipped the envelope over, staring down at the insignia on the front. It was heavy. There wasn't just a letter inside.
'The University?'
Carefully slipping his finger under the flap of the envelope, it opened relatively easily. Rhafiel extracted the letter on the very top slowly, leaving the softer object inside while he surveyed the words. Confusion settled in his chest as his eyes trailed across the page. His heart rate picked up. He could hardly comprehend what the words on the page said and after a few seconds he just gave up.
Rhafiel snatched up the envelope, pulling out the object. It was rectangular and it appeared to open like a notebook. The name of the University was printed on the front. Rhafiel swallowed hard, slowly flipping it open and removing the small piece of protective tissue paper.
It was his...
His doctorate diploma?
His hands started to tremble slightly, his eyes fixed on the page. Out of everything that he could have forgotten, this had to be one of the worst things. He didn't even remember submitting his final dissertation... but he remembered everything he had ever learned about his major.
He would work this. He had a direction now.
He'd worked for Interpol, but that had meant absolutely nothing to him when he'd been told. He didn't... feel anything. This, though... this changed everything.
This was honestly the best thing he had figured out about himself in the few days since Damian had explained everything to him. He could feel a weight lifting, the tension relieving slightly from his shoulders.
It wasn't much, but it was a start.
Clearing his throat, Rhafiel slipped off the table, closing the case and gathering up the mail he was taking with him. He carefully slipped all of it into the same case as his laptop and left the unit, locking the door behind him. His next stop was Interpol, though he supposed it should have probably been his first stop in Faraday.
It was time to show them that he wasn't dead or missing.
But that was the very least of it all.
There was much that would need to be discussed.
Meeting Nyx outside the unit, he sighed lightly and patted her head gently. "Let's go to Interpol. Can you lead me there, Nyx?" he asked softly. Purring lightly, Nyx nudged his hand in confirmation and started to lead them back toward the sidewalk. Rhafiel slipped the storage unit key into his pocket and fished out his phone, sending Damian a text as they walked.
They needed to talk.
1105, ONESHOT, NO MUSIC