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((For reoccurring NPC's, I would write some snapshot of their lives to remind me of them. I tried to sum up their essence in a few paragraphs. Sometimes, it worked.))
Snapshot: Girl Walking on Street
Gwen walks north on Milwaukee Avenue from the bus stop. She wonders if she could have taken a cab, but dismisses the thought. Taking the bus always gives insight into the changing world around her. She also wonders if she should have gone to class this afternoon. Really, what could a bunch of stuffy professors teach her about entropy? She pauses for a moment to look at an antique chair on display in a shop window. Her reflection reveals a small young woman, with a round face, surrounded by short, spiky, black hair. Her black turtleneck creeps out from a white, silk scarf, and the navy blue pea coat she bought at the Army/Navy surplus on Belmont. Her jeans tuck into short black lace up boots. Black turtleneck and jeans, the Euthanatos uniform, a friend in the tradition had once chided her. She cradles a black leather pool cue case in her arms.
She's stopped each day at this window since the store proprietor placed the chair there. She even went in to sit on it the day before last. She remembers the feeling of the aged, supple leather under the skin of her palms. The affect of change on different materials. Loved and cared for, the chair improved with age, growing more comfortable with every passing year. Left alone, even such a fine piece of workmanship would have crumbled, suffered. Gwen mulls it over, entropy increased, but attention and patience diverted its flow.
She never had a space in her small apartment for a chair like that. She certainly could not take it with her to the variety of crash pads she had used over the last months. Maybe now, with her new warehouse space, she could continue caring for that chair in the way of its old owner. Maybe some out-of-towner would show up at Chris' and she could hustle for the cash. The past had been kind to the chair, but chance would play a part in its future. Gwen stomps her feet to shake off the cold November chill and continues north on Milwaukee, smiling. She didn't mind leaving it to chance. Chance and Gwen were good friends.
Gwen continues down the street, entering the stairway leading to Chris's Billiards. In '86, Martin Scorsese filmed some scene for the his movie "The Color of Money" here, saying it reminded him of an old pool hall from his native Philadelphia. Even though Chris sold the place a few years ago, it still draws serious talent from all over Chicagoland and the occasional professional tournament. Gwen discovered the place while still in high school and has spent more time there than any other single place since then. She might have to head to one of the yuppie bars to drum up money for the chair, but a few hours at Chris' would warm her up.
She climbs the long stairway to the second floor pool hall, passing photographs of billiard greats. She awakened playing a game of nine-ball in the basement of a friend's North Shore home. She can remember the moment in crystal clarity; the moment she looked across the table, the mental click when infinity opened its possibilities to her. She ran the table, seemingly in a trace, then collapsed in a coma that lasted six weeks.
Pool appeals to her the same way as that chair. Entropy seems to increase with disorder as the game progresses. Gwen sees her actions as a shooter increasing order, as balls fall in the pockets, down the rails, to rest in the tray. Entropy may always increase, but adding energy to the system will direct that change. It just requires looking at the system, deciding where to apply the energy for the desired affect. Striking the cue ball, cleaning a leather chair, rolling a seven, it's all a matter of applying the energy the right way.
She assembles her cue. Ronnie, another regular, gestures towards an open table. Cue in hand, "Styx", approaches the felt. A few hours with Ronnie, then a trip back to Teddy's. She'll try on that little black dress she found in the back of one of the Cultist's closet, that one she plans to wear at the housewarming party. Warmed up from Ronnie, wearing a little black dress, hitting some of the bars in Lincoln Park; she could bring in enough money, easy. It was almost like… almost like leaving nothing to chance.
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