#thread005

As if she didn’t have enough on her plate with work and her unstable romantic feelings for her best friend; she had recently received a call from Frannie, who was going to pay a visit to the city. Naturally, she was going to stay at her sister’s place during her one-week-city-getaway. The only problem with her plan was that the eldest Fabray sister thought Quinn and Sam were living together, the way happy couples who were about to tie the knot do. Desperate times did call for desperate measures, so Quinn didn’t have any choice but call Sam and explain the situation. Being the kindest person she had ever had the chance to meet, Sam of course did not reject her when she was in need. They were going to play pretend as they usually did around any one of Quinn’s family members, in addition to living together for a week. Given their recent situation, Quinn had been praying she wouldn’t lose all the self-control she obtained through years and start kissing Sam abruptly once again. 

Which was exactly why she was startled when Sam walked in the kitchen, where she was grabbing three bottles of beer from the fridge and looking for some snacks for her, Frannie and Sam. About ten minutes ago, she had left him and her sister in her living room, where they were chatting about God knows what pretentious topic Frannie picked for the day. As she heard Sam’s footsteps, Quinn closed the door of the fridge and turned around, all too quickly for her own good because the moment she shifted her body towards the door, she walked right into Sam. Her head bumped into his chest and the familiar scent embraced her. For a moment there, it was very difficult to force herself to pull away. “Sorry, I’m uh-a bit clumsy.” She mumbled quickly as she raised her head to meet Sam’s eye.  

Atlas: So I've been wondering something.

Atlas: The day after turning into a wolf and back to a human...

Atlas: Do you have the worst shits of your life?

Atlas: Like whatever you eat as a wolf has to come out right?

Atlas: What if you ate a moose? Those things are huge. Do you just poop out an antler at a time?

Feeble smile for him. Fresh witness-- plucked minutes a block from a wealthy community gate after the de-activated alarm system alerted its parent company, which alerted the police. 

This man had been swiftly ruled out as the thief. A quick sweep of the crime scene suggested months, even years’ worth of planning to scale the acres of territory, dash past finely hidden systems, and work downright magic on Sweden-imported safes. Break-in skills that would have taken a lifetime, kicked up with gallons of talent, to master. 

This one in front of xer, supplied with office coffee and an extra danish xe scrounged up-- couldn’t be it. Not so much gut feeling as sheer disbelief. Since when would criminals get that honed and look so-- look so-- 

It was just a man. 

Maya drummed an anxious, soft beat against the fold-out table. Hell of a time it took to convince him that he was just going to be asked a couple of questions. Witnesses got scared. Worried that a crime scene would falsely implicate them as suspect. 

“Between us. I need your help. Just you and me here-- half the people hanging around couldn’t care less.” Sound off with less rue, Maya. 

“It’s just you and me here. It-- matters to me. Hearing you out. Can you tell me anything about the scene? Any details whatsoever?” 

Even with all lights, Maya’s vision went wading. Too many long shifts. Xer styrofoam cup wasn’t so much as ringed with spittle. Xe’d been slugging back caffeine all day and the crash was coming to collect. Thumb pad brushed against the hot base, shaking.  

So much of the force invoked their excuses, turned in early. Complicit. How many of them would smile indulgently if Maya let this witness depart now?

Xe almost wondered if it was a completely arbitrary decision to decide from the start that xe thought he couldn’t be guilty at all. To see if xer co-workers would be proper and contradict naivete. 

To see if they wanted xer naivete. 

Now it wasn’t “Could the police support the Organization?” but “How much of it?”

Look him in the eye. Breathe. Focus.

“Please.”

The Lady Carmella was about as 'aesthetic' as coffee shops got, but that was only to be expected of West End. It was spacious but lively, colorful in a brown-and-red-and-gold kind of way that projected the aura of a hunting lodge (blessedly without any decorative taxidermy), and lined with comfortable, cushioned benches and classic wood tables-- all the greatest hits-- but, as nice as it was inside, the outside was nicer. 

Mother nature could do more for atmosphere than all the money in the world-- a cruel reality, but one that could be exploited even in noisy, polluted London. Felix reclined into the sun, flipping a pair of dark sunglasses up into his hairline so he could make eye-contact with a member of waitstaff as she handed him something extremely caffeinated (and possibly slightly alcoholic). It smelled very good and looked better, all deep aroma and sculpted foam; so when he thanked her it was with unusual candor. 

The weather was perfect up on the rooftop, the clearness of the day best viewed from an altitude that excluded the sooty mass of work-bound Londonites. Felix had to admit, vain though he was, that he was somewhat grateful to have the kind of wealth that afforded lazy weekends. It was a perk that the same benefits seemed to carry over into the political sphere as well.

The Broker glanced up at the woman across the table from him, shot her a warm smile and glanced sheepishly at his drink, thus far untouched. He made a policy not to eat until everyone’s food had arrived-- it fostered trust, and professional etiquette had been effectively trained into him.

“They’re catching the coffee beans right now, I’m sure.”

Aoba was enjoying a day out, actually it was more like a week out. Before he had met up with Koujaku, he took mail around to a few different cities to hopefully learn more about the world he was in as well as potentially meet some people that might be in need of a healer. If only he kenw what was in store for him over the next week or so, he might have reconsidered these prospects entirely. Ah well, it was far too late for that now.

After dropping off the mail at the post office, Aoba secured himself a room at the Yala inn with the money he earned, making sure to save enough for the carriage ride back to somewhere. Maybe Estaria, apparently the capital was buzzing with adventurers and work. Still, until that happened he had the rest of the day at the very least to himself. Congratulating himself on a job well done, the blue haired man proceeded to change into his casual wear, as there were far less adventurers in this city and, at least it seemed at the moment, far less danger.

Unlike most men in Pyli who opted for large leather clothing or baggy thick pieces, the blue haired man instead opted for a muck slimmer fitting beige cotton tunic and tight fitting dark blue linen pants. It certainly was nothing like what he wore back home, a large brown leather belt sitting snugly above his hips to keep his coin purse close at hand instead of his puffy ridiculous jacket. Not wearing bright blue and yellow gave Aoba's hair a stark contrast between his head and shoulders, perhaps drawing more attention to him than he even warranted back at home. After all... most of these people seemed to have brown or black hair...

You enter the boarding house, heading up to your room. The door is unlocked, you note. You had been out and about since you arrived a few days ago, not even needing that much sleep. And now that you did, you would get the first chance to meet your roommate for the first time. Delightful.

Opening the door you see a red haired young man, probably no older than you, sitting on his bed. It wasn't late, only about four o'clock, but you had been up for two days straight and were thinking about the desperate need to crash. Still, not saying anything and immediately flopping onto your bed before passing out might be considered rude.

He hadn't the slightest idea of how long they had been at the bar, the only thing he could really notice was the fact that Pisti had finally began to slow down in her drinking, and he was pretty sure that the moment he stood up, he'd go falling over.

They had gone out, and Sharrkan had offered to buy her her drinks for the night as an apology for making her cry. Of course, she accepted.

He briefly wonders if all the generals, besides a select few, have a drinking problem. Most of them didn't even hesitate when the words alcohol was mentioned. Well, at least they still got their work done.

He waved his hand over at the server and asked for two more, well it wasn't like he had to work tomorrow anyways. Besides, he was able to catch up with the blonde girl.

"Pistiiii."

Ahh.

Was he already drunk?

He hadn't thought he was but he was pretty sure that a slur in his words was finally starting to come out.