Ari ♫ ♪ ♬ (gracenotes) wrote in emillion, @ 2013-10-17 00:17:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, !log, arielle chiaro, jareth monaco |
Who are you taking coffee no sugar? Who are you, echoing street signs...
Who: Ari & Jareth
What: Would you be... my neighbor? =D
Where: Theatre District
When: Thursday
Rating: PG-13 (language!)
Status: Complete
As the nights got longer and colder, Ari was more and more inclined to burrow under her blankets to emerge only in the afternoon. When she was lucky, there was a warm body in her bed; when she wasn’t, the down comforter was company enough to make the outside world look terribly unappealing. Rainy days were the worst; when there were no auditions or jobs at which she was meant to be present, the desire to stay in was only barely trumped by the fact that she began slowly but surely losing her mind if she stayed alone too long. Accordingly, rain or no rain, out she went, wrapped in a cloak (she had seen Aspel’s jacket in her closet -- still -- and had shaken her head with rueful amusement before taking the cloak), her mandolin case a lump under the garment. It seemed just the day for coffee and a scone at the Blue Wren. If Emeric was working, she would have the added benefit of all the latest theatre gossip to go with her meal -- she swore, that boy knew the casting news days before the actors themselves got the call, not to mention who was secretly sleeping with whom -- which thought was enough to lift her mood as she made her way down the stairs. She noted the hat first, with its cheap felt and wide brim clashing wildly with regulation armor. A moment later, she recognized the man leaving the building across the street and had to swallow a giggle. Apparently, for Jareth, fashion was secondary to function, and looking ridiculous was perfectly acceptable in favor of a dry head. She reached the bottom of the steps just as he reached the corner; with a smile, she called, “Good morning, neighbor.” And never mind that it was two in the afternoon. He had only grabbed the hat as a concession - the nagging of Lilith at the office and all of her Faram-damned health tips were starting to wear on what little nerves he had left. The hat had been one of the things left by the previous occupant, along with a pair of pants, a cup with a chipped lip, and about two ounces of marijuana. He’d gladly taken the marijuana as a welcome gift and had tossed everything else into a corner to deal with later. That had been two weeks ago. His hectic schedule had precluded any disposal that he would have done, but that meant he at least had the hat to keep his head dry. Well, as dry as a thin, worn felt hat would allow, at any rate. The pinging of the rain on his armor was annoying, so he attempted to duck under the awning of the costume shop his apartment was located above. The action was aborted when he heard the voice call out to him. Ari. He’d forgotten that she lived around here. Fuck. “Afternoon,” he replied gruffly, a poor attempt at a smile at the ready. Probably looked more like a grimace, but he was doing the best that he could under the circumstances. Which were unexpectedly running into Aspel’s…. whatever in the middle of the street in front of his apartment. “I am surprised,” and a bit relieved, “that we haven’t met in this very spot previously, but I suppose you do not keep… traditional Theatre District hours.” And really, the less she saw of peacekeepeers in her spare time, the better, but her carefully-cultivated facade was so clean that it shone, and so of course she would be friendly. Not that he was the most typical Knight of the Peace, she supposed. He already held one of her biggest secrets, and appeared trustworthy, to a point. Thanks to Aspel, perhaps, she did not anticipate it becoming a problem. “That is quite the lovely hat,” she added, her tone all pleasantry and politeness, though anyone with a single humorous cell in his body could tell it was in jest. That hat had never been in style. “Off to save the city from villainy, are you?” Got to have a fucking villain first he thought, shrugging. “Off to do something.” What that something was probably had more to do with paperwork than anything else, but no one else had to know that. “Off to…” He trailed off, trying to remember what it was she did. A Bard. They… sang and shit, right? “Sing?” It was a lame finish, but aside from Aspel and her big flaming pet - which he had kept quiet about, as promised - he didn’t really have much to talk to her about. Fuck, he didn’t have much to talk about with anyone most of the time. He couldn’t remember the last conversation he had that wasn’t with Li. Or Banes, he supposed, but he doubted talking about work counted. “Off to drink coffee and eat scones to distract myself from this gorgeous weather we’re having,” she said easily. She found him somewhat difficult to converse with on the network, it was true, and serious topics were right out, but this she could do -- chattering at someone who was largely quiet in response was something with which she had had a great deal of experience. “But best of luck with your heroics.” And that would have been that -- if the grunt she got in response was to be taken as a farewell -- but when they set off, it was in the same direction. After a few moments of silence, she shook her head under the deep cowl of her hood and said, “It seems we are fated to keep each other company today.” And she couldn’t deny she was a little curious -- there was some sort of history with him and Aspel, even if she couldn’t quite work out what kind. And the enigma that was Aspel was always a matter of interest lately. “I hope you don’t mind?” It was a good thing he wasn’t a gambler because luck and Jareth seemed to reside on different fucking continents. He managed not to sigh - a near thing, really - because her company wasn’t horrible. Just uncomfortable. And that was mostly because being a functioning part of society was something he’d thrown away years ago. “Seems like it,” he agreed with a shrug. Even if he did mind, there wasn’t anything to be done for it; it wasn’t like he could veer off and wait for her to disappear before continuing on. That would just be a waste of fucking time, and at least if he was with Ari and some bullshit attack happened, he could make sure she didn’t get hurt. Not that he thought she needed it. Having a big flaming whatever at her beck and call pretty much mean that things needed protecting from her. “Weather’s not so bad,” he added after a moment. “No?” she asked, a bit incredulously. Another shake of her head was followed by a laugh, then the inevitable statement: “You’re Kerwonian, aren’t you?” The continent was nearly famed for its miserable weather, though part of that was likely to be anecdotal. She had seen the sun out in Kerwon, on her visits there. Once or twice, anyway. He nodded. “More or less.” He’d grown up there, had lived there for as long as he could remember before breaking with the Guard, but there was no sure way to know that he was originally from there. Most likely - after all, the place he had lived wasn’t attractive to tourists - but there was still that smidgen of uncertainty. Not that Ari needed to know that; the less she knew about him, the better. “This kind of rain is just an annoyance.” That more or less was very clearly meant as, and don’t bother asking any further questions. The man was, to put it mildly, not personable. She couldn’t help being curious, though -- though he did not sound exactly like the Cassuls when he spoke, she doubted it could be a simple coincidence, all things considered. So, a mystery. If she didn’t know that asking, so, how long have you known Aspel? would yield exactly nothing, she might have tried it. Instead she shrugged under her cloak and said, “A cold annoyance. But, be that as it may, I suppose we are not in Ordalia, and such cannot be helped in the autumn. It will make my coffee all the more enjoyable at any rate.” Before the silence could stretch on, she changed the topic to something -- hopefully -- neutral enough to get him talking, at least a little. “Have you settled in well, then? Grown accustomed to the drunken revels in the street at all hours?” Jareth cracked a small smile. “Not much different from where I was in the Tenements,” he replied honestly. Except that it wasn’t drug addicts and violence keeping him awake; the first few nights he’d stayed up just to listen to the different sounds, to get accustomed to them. He was a light sleeper to begin with, but if he could acclimate a bit, learn to expect certain things, he could sleep through them. Small talk was frustrating, but it wasn’t like he could just ask her anything about Aspel that he wanted. And he didn’t know nearly enough about her to ask her about whatever it was she did. Maybe he really did need to take a class on interacting with humes outside of move it and grunting. Oh, fuck it. “Seen Aspel lately?” Well, all right then. Ari gave him a curious look from under her hood and said, “Once or twice recently -- our paths cross fairly often.” She wondered it he knew about Aspel’s recent injuries, but did not volunteer the information. After all, he was no friend of hers, and she had no concept of his motivations. If he wished a specific answer, he would ask a specific question. And since he had asked first… “And yourself?” He shook his head. “Mostly only talk to her on the network,” he said, voice neutral. The last time he had seen her had been the fight in the Tenements. The sight of her with her hammer had brought back more memories than he’d cared to remember. He saw Li with more regularity than he did Aspel. “No point in bothering her.” At least his mood was now starting to match the weather. There was very little she could say to that. She knew that she was, perhaps, a bit unusual in that Aspel held her in particularly high regard -- it was entirely possible that a visit from the peacekeeper would in fact be bothersome to the older woman. She simply couldn’t know. And a platitude -- she is quite friendly and very accessible within your guild; if you want to see her, there is little to stop you -- seemed inappropriate for the moment. So she only said, “When I see her next, I will give her your regards.” That seemed the best answer all around. Aspel’s problems, such as they were, were not hers, she reminded herself. And Aspel’s past, with its many secrets, was not hers to pry at, either. She let the silence descend for awhile after that as they walked before a thought came to her. “How late would you be with a stop?” She offered a smile that was small, but not insincere. “I do believe I still owe you a cup of proper coffee. I hadn’t forgotten.” And she always repaid her favors. It was tempting; he hadn’t had a good cup of coffee in ages. The shit that they tried to pass off at the guildhall was crap and not worthy of his time. Plus, if he had to grimace drinking it down, it better be alcoholic. He pulled out his comm device, shot off a quick message to Banes, and turned to Ari. “I can spare about an hour.” Everyone had been telling him to take some time off, anyway. And it wasn’t like he wouldn’t make up the hour in spades. Fuck, if he didn’t end up staying at least two hours past shift’s end, he may as well actually be sick. The conversation, she reflected, would be stilted and awkward. With an inner sigh, she said good-bye to her hopes of backstage gossip with Emeric. She supposed it was to be very cautious talking around the subject of Aspel Cassul instead. Well, in the end, the backstage gossip would still be there another day. “In which case,” she said, “this is our turn. One of the benefits to living in the Theatre District, really. Follow me.” With practiced and valiant attempts to keep the (somewhat one-sided) conversation going, she led him to the Blue Wren Café. |