#thecryptsleepers

" --- oh, shit- Halia! what's up?" [ he nearly asks if she's okay, but thinks better of it- taking in her general appearance tells him clearly enough that, no, she's not okay. nothing that makes it seem like there's an emergency, she just looks... a bit frazzled. and pissed off. he's still got his drumsticks in hand, still a little out of breath. he's been at it for hours now, and hadn't even realized- now he begins to wonder if he's missed something. wouldn't be the first time he's been so entranced in his drum practice that he completely blocked out the rest of the world. maybe that's why she's here. ]

[ she explains that she's locked out of her house, asks to use his phone. he nods, mumbles a breathless 'yeah, sure-' moving aside so she can come in. he's vaguely aware of the state of his living room- there's clothes piled up on the couch, but at least they're clean. ]

" --- it's in the kitchen. on the wall next to the fridge." [ he tosses the drumsticks onto the couch and follows, but not to eavesdrop- he's parched, and starving. all the energy expended in his practice is catching up to him now. doesn't help that he hasn't fed for a few days. there's a new song he's been hellbent on getting right before his gig this weekend. ]

" --- sorry, lemme just-" [ he squeezes past her to get to the fridge, snagging a bottle of water. he leans against the counter and chugs it- gods, there's nothing like ice-cold water when you really need it. he glances at her, then- they've never really been in the same space like this before. their conversations up to this point have all been outside, either her stoop or his. he reaches for an apple from the bowl beside the sink, takes a bite- then it hits him. ]

" --- oh, y'know what- it might not be plugged in. i forgot." [ he says between chews. his friend Jace had been over the day before- the wolf always unplugs it and this time Jack had forgotten to plug it back in when he left. it started as a prank, and turned into a habit. the demon cranes his neck, points to where the cord dangles on the wall behind the receiver. ]

[eyes glowing] yes. julie literally loves being in the water at all times. i don't write it a lot, but she feels a pull to it at almost all times!!! in my brain she has a pretty keen sense for the water distribution system in new york city and chicago, and the huge pipes are very noticeable to her. very distracting, like rivers and the ocean and stuff. i think she could lose hours and hours and hours watching water.

The Wytch grinned in amusement, watching the other male fumble into action to accommodate his unexpected company by graciously making room on the bench. His cigarette smoke never came near Mylo, but the smell lingered -- it was no bother to him. Centuries of burning incense and candles tended to make him nose blind with strong aromas. "Sorry," he laughed, settling down on the bench with one leg under the other before dropping his backpack upon the ground. With how beautiful the weather was today, he decided to venture outside on his break and see what the world had to offer. "I tend to have a bad habit of sneaking up on people..." One part of being a Wytch was their ability to move around quietly, but it often had the unfortunate downside of startling people.

[ he's been to more funerals than he'd care to admit. but this is the first one he's ever attended outside of Haventown. it isn't for anyone he knows, even- it's for a friend of Elmira's, but she couldn't come., so she sent him and Jack in her stead. she didn't say why, and he hadn't asked- when it comes to Jack and Elmira, when the witch tells him to do something, he'll do it. simple as that. and so of course Frankie followed suit. ]

[ he's never been comfortable attending funerals, or wakes, or any of it. it isn't death that unsettles him. it's how the living react to it. the things they do in the name of the dead that really have nothing to do with the dead at all. he's mulling over this, sat outside the funeral home that had prepared the body. Jack said there was a friend there he wanted to visit, that he had some questions from Elmira for the funeral director. so Frankie is sat outside, back against the cool wall of the building, when he hears someone approach. he looks up- it's not Jack. he smiles anyways. ]

hello.

please give me noir detective halia and assistant julieeeeeeeee i need it. lowkey i think julie would love being an intake person for a private investigator because she gets to hear the gossip without actually involving herself in it. the person is like "i think this mf is cheating on me! go get them!" and julie's like "yeah halia go get them!!!" like i think halia would think that julie were just in it for the love of the game, without thinking of any real consequences. ditz julie. and she might be right.

side note if not noir, in a modern day halia could be like a process server that julie calls on when matt murdock harvestshope needs to serve docs on the courts? as a defense lawyer she'd really only be sending documents to the feds so they'd be easy to find. BUT STILL! halia… process server…

this is also slightly off the beaten path but lowkey i think xeno and halia should be friends. (hello @inrovina river who is an amazing writer, this is @thecryptsleepers hal, a long time friend who is also an amazing writer!!!!) REASONS: there's an au where xeno and julie are siblings, and both are "immortal" in a sense, but julie reincarnates and xeno doesn't. and they try to find each other for every reincarnation. halia is immortal and long living like xeno. THEY SHOULD BE FRIENDS and halia should be able to see a reincarnated julie and be like XENO I FOUND HERRRRRRR and then also drama should ensue between xeno and halia. thank you for coming to my meet-a-friend-and-plot talk.

( @thecryptsleepers )

" --- yeah, sure. that's fair." [ he shakes his head with an unobtrusive laugh. he is awfully curious about her. but where to begin? ]

She doesn't even want anything more than that.

Thank you. I'm sorry.

Every day for almost a decade, she'd open her eyes and give vehement thanks for the stupidest things — for not being dropped into the fiery pit, for a zealot's wisdom, for her miserable, pig-shit existence — and end each night crawling in the dirt, apologizing for those same stupid things.

Either he's not trying hard enough, or he enjoys the penance.

Millie finishes the calculus of his debt. Lifts three fingers. "You owe me three."

Don't check her work on that.

"The least of which is a thank you or an I'm sorry."