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[[ WV: Clyde ]]

For Event IV:  Moving Forward



Clyde stared into his closet in silence; stared at the moving boxes that hadn’t been opened once since he had moved in his current apartment.

There weren’t too many of them stashed away in his most spacious closet. When he had moved in, he had emptied the boxes that had contained all the necessary everyday items. Clothes, bed sheets, kitchen utensils, so on and so forth. The rest of his belongings had been labeled ‘a project for tomorrow’.

That ‘tomorrow’ had never come - a fact that was made obvious by the thin, undisturbed layer of dust that had gathered on top of the topmost boxes. Clyde brought his hand on top of the box closest to him, drawing a line in the dust by following the taped seam between its lapels with his index finger. Looking at the gap he had created, he realized he wasn’t even completely sure what some of the boxes contained anymore. Peering deeper in the closet, he could see a word ‘Misc.’ scribbled on one of them with a faded marker. Not an exactly informative label. Sighing, Clyde wiped the dust on his finger to the seam of his pants. At least having some of his belongings already packed would make moving that much easier.

If he was to move at all, that was.

Clyde took a step back from the closet and thought back to what Alec Bolton, the leader of White Veils had said.

“I'd greatly appreciate if some of you were willing to consider moving closer to the resource center, maybe even in the same city.”

In Opelucid City.

Not only was it a whole new city, it was in a whole another region. It was a big move to make - and yet, when Clyde had heard the news, his first instinct had been to heed to the leader’s word and get to it. To pack his things and go. To follow an order like he had been trained to do.

However, as soon as that first spark had died down and he had sat down to truly think about moving, doubts had started flowing in.

The first one was a rather rational and obvious one: money. Moving to a whole another region wouldn’t be cheap by any means. Plane tickets, transferring his belongings or buying new ones, possible deposit for a new apartment… the list went on, and his wallet was glaring at him as it was. He hadn’t even been able to visit Opelucid yet due to both, financial and time restrictions - so how on Earth would he be able to pay for moving there?

Realizing the monetary problems had lead to another quite concrete worry: the search for a new job. It had taken Clyde a forever and plenty of drifting from one odd job to another before he had been able to find his current job that had turned into a keeper. It wasn’t that well-paid, but it was something he was able to do from day to day and even enjoyed to some degree. Leaving that behind and possibly returning to the pit of unemployment while trying to search for a new job in a city like Opelucid wasn’t exactly a tempting idea. Even if he somehow managed to scrape together enough money for moving, what good would that do if he failed to get a job and a stable income once in Opelucid?

At that point, the doubts Clyde was feeling started to grow into something worse.

What if he ended up stuck in the vicious cycle of odd jobs and fear of losing the roof over his head again? His life relied heavily on clear, stable structures. Each day had the same, easy schedule to follow: get up, go to work, come home, take care of necessities such as feeding and walking Kai, pass out. Rinse and repeat the following day and the day after it. It was the framework that kept his life together - or at least held up the illusion of it. If he was able to do long work days and keep his life in check outside of it, it wasn’t possible that he had any problems, right?

Moving to Opelucid would trample that supporting structure on the ground and force Clyde to start building it again from the scratch. It had taken him years to get the first one together, to get his life in a shape well enough to pass for normal. How long would it take to achieve that in a place like Opelucid, a bit, busy city full of people, full of action?

He had no idea, and it terrified him.

He didn’t want to go back to the square one. He needed his support beams, no matter if they were only a facade of a life being kept together. He needed that fix of make believe.

Did he need it more than the White Veils needed him in Opelucid?

He would’ve wanted to say no. Hoped he could’ve said it.

Instead, he pushed the closet door shut and left the moving boxes in their dusty oblivion.



words: 855

Moving forward is impossible if you are stuck in the past.

all I wanted to do was a quick piece to feature Clyde's thoughts on moving to Opelucid
then my brain went 'hey what if we tried that painting thing again' at 8am and bam here we are

Clyde, writing, art (c) me
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April 3, 2016
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