𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 / 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓.

Time: 4:39PM Date: 02/2021 Setting: Jin’s Domain, the kitchen

He took cooking lessons from her. Ruslan wanted to be a better cook so he could impress the women he appreciated and also so he could make food for his dog, Kodiak, but today, he had a different issue to work through with her. He looked down at the magical potato in his hands. It was a cursed object, received through the mail, and he still had no clue about how to handle it properly. Even though he was older than most, he had never encountered such a magical tuber before. But if someone knew about these things then it had to be one of the greatest chefs in the world. When he saw her, Ruslan gently smiled and held up the starchy lump. “What can I do with a magic potato?”

@jinslora​

It was astounding, really, when she realized how many immortal begins didn’t know how to cook properly. Whether it be the old-fashioned way or with cooking. Jin did find that witches had the basics down, but after that, they really didn’t have a clue. That’s where Jin came into play. Holding mostly baking lessons at The Sweet Spot after the shop had closed down for the day and cooking lessons at her own home. These lessons were private, more one on one, and tonight was her favourite student, Ruslan. He tried his best and he was attentive. That’s all Jin could ask for. The chef was coming to greet him while tying her apron at her back when she saw the large man hold up a potato. She stops short and looks at the food to Ruslan with her usual, semi-expressionless features, if it weren’t for the fact that she was silently judging him. “The fact that you have to ask means it’s all too advanced for you.” With one last tough knot tied at the back, Jin takes the food into her own hand, and studies Ruslan for a moment before giving a sigh. “Fine. We’ll cook with the magic potato today. Come.” Is her order as she turns to head back into the kitchen.

“Didn’t handle it, I did, but that’s sufficient enough for now,” he replies with a roll of his eyes. He knows her type. The prickly ones who can only speak in challenges are a difficulty that he finds almost entertaining if Wesley weren’t so damn tired. “With a town like this, you’d think that would be a catcher. Met a lot of dead people on my travels, the lot of them are lost and might find this place to be a salvation.” He shrugs, not altogether sure what to make of the town still beyond a minor intrigue, and he watches her to gauge her own reaction. Her opinion doesn’t matter so much as what she’ll say and the prickly ones almost always say the truth. The town is probably made up of people like her, now that he thinks about it. A bunch of hurt people drowning their sorrows in something, and now Wesley is one of them, too. He doesn’t like this place and the way it makes him feel. Her retort takes him by surprise enough that he chuckles genuinely even when something sparks at the back of his mind at the obvious lie. Well, yeah, that’s how sarcasm works. “I’ll take your word on that one, I’m sure you’ll have people lining up on your doorstep.” The smile is strange, the kind that doesn’t reach her eyes, and he’s a little amused at how obviously fake it is. “Lich as well. Can’t say I’ve run into many of us before, I’ve just seen two others.” Wesley gives her a frown, confused about what to make of her words. “What, you think everyone is just empty? How’d you come to that conclusion?”

Emmett couldn’t help but to laugh a little, mostly because of the wording. And she wasn’t wrong. Kids really liked to hit stuff. “You know what? I really like that idea actually. I have never thought of that before, but kids would enjoy that. And honestly, making pinata’s is pretty fun. It makes a big mess, which the kids will go crazy for.” He clambered to his feet and held out his hand with a friendly smile. “No, that’s great, thank you. I’m Emmett, by the way, I run a child care center here.”

Hugh realizes his mistake as soon as the woman replies. Unfortunately, it is his instinct to go “you are excused” jokingly when somebody says ‘excuse me’. The curse of having an identical twin who loves to bicker. He raises a brow as she drops a wallet that horribly resembles his on the table. Several thoughts– suspicions, mostly– cross his mind and dissipate. He could have misplaced his wallet. She could have picked it up to return it. Sure, she could have swiped it off his table, but it does not make any sense that she did not walk away after stealing his wallet. “Want is a strong word, but I suppose a thank you is in order.” He replies perfunctorily, before quickly scanning her face and going through the list of inhabitants in his head. He soon recalls her name, J. Slora, lich, with a daughter. “Thank you, and I apologize for the misunderstanding. Not many frequent this place in 4 am.”

It didn’t help when she responded to her name, only confirming that what he was seeing was real. The copious amount of dreams of their reunion didn’t remotely prepare him for this moment. It also didn’t help that she didn’t match him in shock, almost as if she had known he was here this entire time. Had he not been so surprised, his blood would have been boiling. The pain and guilt that consumed him for years for leaving her without saying anything, to protect her from him and anything like him, was only a waste. She had fell prey to what he wanted to save her from, declaring his difficult decision was pointless. Just hearing her voice was enough to make him want to run out of the bakery, to leave his unspoken feelings there for her to pick up again. But he was still unable to move his feet. He would have classified his emotions and physicality as numb, but the pain and heaviness of his heart currently would only contradict that notion. Funeral. Alive. “How are you here?” By the time he had asked it, the detective had already found his answer. 

“I’m sorry.” If he could shout that a million more times, he would, but questions and the inability to say the right thing was stopping him from expressing his true feelings from the past 135 years. While her harsh words felt like a knife scraping across his skin, he let them leave a scar, fully cognizant of his own deserving. “You’re not supposed to be here.” He was finally able to move, shaking his head in denial that she was right in front of him. “You’re supposed to grow old, be human. Not be around all of this.” At that point, Elyas was trying to keep his voice down, his anger at himself and at the world now seeping through his tone that was controlled through gritted teeth. “How did you die?” 

Jinny gives a short laugh as a response to Elyas apology. “I used to fantasize about this moment.” She wets her lips slowly in thought. In frustration. Her eyes narrow, more in thought than anything else as she stares at her ex-fiance with an unyielding stare. Learning that he was here when she and Zi arrived was something Jinny needed to wrap her head around. Learning that he has been here for quite some time felt like a slap in the face. What has he been doing for all these years? Being comfortable and happy and starting a new life. Did he have a new family? Jin felt her heart wretch at the thought. “Fantasized about rejecting your apologies. A day I never thought would come…” Jinny didn’t have a clue as to what could have happened to him. All she understood was that he was with her one night and had disappeared the next without a note, without any caution, without any trace as to where he could have gone. It was as if he never existed. “Your apology means nothing to me, Elyas. Keep it.”  

Elyas’ mornings were routine – quickly grab a coffee and head to work. The vampire drank coffee more for the taste than the effects, which weren’t even applicable to him. However, to celebrate his team for closing the recent case, he dropped by the bakery to pick up some pastries for breakfast for them. His plans of buying them and leaving to arrive at the station on time backfired when a certain employee had caught his attention. His feet were glued to the floor, unable to move. He had a take a second look at first to make sure he wasn’t going insane, which was common these days. But the striking features were hard to dismiss. No way, kept repeating in his head, over and over again as the detective tried to make sense to what his eyes were seeing. Even though scenarios like this was common in his dreams, each dream came with a wave of surprise and shock, similar to what he was feeling right there. Eyes were widened, his features resembled someone who had just seen a ghost. The blood pounded in his ears so loudly he couldn’t hear the other employee asked him what he wanted. The chatter of store faded away, with his attention settled on one and only one person. “Jingyi.” The name snaked from his mouth as soon as he was able to suck in breathes to finally speak, not sure if he wanted the girl to respond to the name or not. If vampires were real, why can’t doppelgängers be as well? 

@jinslora 

It was funny seeing someone’s reaction when they realized that Jinny was a lich working in a bakery. The woman couldn’t smell or taste the food, and she goes asked similar questions all of the time. Mostly all in the same vein as: ‘ How can you cook or have a job like this when you don’t have any senses? ’ It was almost insulting, really. With a question like that, she would point to whichever baked good they had in their hand, tell them to take a bite, and seeing the look on their faces, responding to how good the food was, Jin would answer: ‘ Just like that. ’ The lich was going through this exact scenario when a familiar figure from her peripheral caught her eye. She didn’t look his way right then. Instead, she continued helping the customer she was with pick out a few more items. ‘Jingyi, ’ She hears him say. Her name that hasn’t been used in a long number of years. Unintentionally, dark orbs flicker over to meet his. Keeping calm, which was fairly easy to do, Jin told the customer that she needed to excuse herself and that she would get another employee to help. When she stands beside the other employee, she tells them that she’ll help with Elyas and that they can help the person she was just with.

She’s not a tiny wisp of a thing by any means, but he’s still surprised by the strength she has to rip away from him with nary a flinch. He’s not tiny nor weak, but he’s also not hear to hold someone against their will. “Thank you is suffice, or even a ‘I can handle it’ does the the trick, people have no way of knowing if you’ve got something to splatter or not,” he replies with some stoniness, his eyes narrowing a fraction. He doesn’t deserve her ire, if that’s what it is, but the annoyance gives way to genuine confusion at the remarks. His hand touches his own chest, where nothing beats, and figures that its just his luck to run into another one like him. Or… the other type, a vampire he thinks, though he has no way of knowing about their hearts. “Lot of dead people in this town,” he murmurs, more to himself, but uncaring if she picks it up. He drops his hand, shaking his head at her shouting to the car. Either the person doesn’t care or didn’t hear because there’s no retort to her sharpness. “Well, you’re in the negative on friends I’m afraid.” The driver is a subtraction, he’s sure. “Its easier to make enemies than friends, at any rate. You’re a new one in town? Lich or vampire? I don’t know who else is hollow, if vampires even are.”

Time: Saturday, 11:15 AM Location: Irving Plaza Status: Open

His back leaned against the tree as he stared down at the notebook leaning against his thighs with a frown. The worst part of his job, he had decided a long time ago, was trying to figure out crafts. It was the after-school crafts that were hard, of course; preschoolers only needed paper and crayons and they were pretty happy. That might be understating it (in fact, he knew it was), but their crafts were still much simpler than the older kids required. 

Emmett groaned and tilted his head back against the bark, his eyes catching on somebody nearby. “Any suggestions for crafts? For bigger kids. Under 12 or so, but older than 5. I am all out of ideas.”

Jinny wasn’t much of a wanderer. Normally, she had a destination in mind. A plan to execute, a route to take. That’s why it was so easy for her and Zi to skip from town to town, city to city. And it was usually always busy so she never had any downtime at work. It was always go, go, go. Things were very different here that was in Lethe. Even though she’s heard from a few people already that the town is rapidly growing in size and population, The Sweet Spot had a steady stream of customers and orders, but it was nothing like the hustle and bustle of constantly throwing ingredients around like say in New York or Tokyo.

Date: August 2020 Time: 4:32 AM Location: the Fifth Corner (24-Hour Diner)

There are not many diners in Lethe, let alone ones that are open 24 hours. Lucky (or perhaps unfortunately) for Hugh, the Fifth Corner indulges a workaholic like him with coffee refills and secluded corner booths even at 4 am. Hugh couldn’t sleep– or rather, he slept for a few hours only to wake up covered in sweat. Apparently being murdered repeatedly in your dreams is exhausting. But who needs sleep, anyway?  

Hugh types rapidly into his laptop, drafting a report nobody asked for. As someone approaches his corner booth, he responds reflexively “thanks, but I’m still finishing this one,” assuming that it was the night shift waiter checking in on him for a refill. 

Jinny did this often. Or, at least when she had the time. Since arriving in Lethe a few weeks ago, she hadn’t found a proper opening to commence one of her favourite hobbies in a new town: simply sit in a booth of a dinner at an ungodly hour. As a one hundred and sixty-eight-year-old lich, one needed to find ways to pass the time. Finishing newspaper crosswords, sipping on cold, crappy coffee that she wasn’t able to taste and watching who comes in was Jin’s ‘me time,’ and it has been for the last fifty-plus years.

Folding the paper that she was done with and taking the half-empty mug to the counter, Jin passed the man who was fever lightly typing on a computer, but she stopped short when she saw a wallet was on the ground. Actually, she noticed it the moment it dropped, but she didn’t feel like pointing it out right then. Lethe apparently had its weird occurrences, but the crime rate for robbery was one of the lowest on this side of the U.S. Jin found that hilarious.