|Judas (faithtraitor) wrote in nevermore_logs,|
@ 2012-07-23 14:57:00
|Entry tags:||delilah, judas iscariot|
Who: Judas Iscariot, and Delilah
What: Chance meeting
When: Monday Lunchtime, 26/9/11
Where: a food court
Judas took his tray from the counter and turned around, and sighed inwardly at the expanse of humanity crammed into one tiny food court. Mothers with pre-school aged children shared coffees while their toddlers shrieked, high school students lurked, giggling about cutting school, salespeople sat and ate quietly, ignoring everyone around them while they could. Judas despised the mass of people sometimes, but it at least wasn't having to eat lunch with the men from his bank, and everyone would leave him alone.
Judas found an empty table on the edge of the floor moments before an older couple carrying coffee did, and he turned his back on them as he sat down to eat. Life was so tedious. He wanted to speak to an equal, someone who knew, but he was too afraid to look for them. Instead he ate his burger and wondered if anyone at work would notice if he came back from lunch stoned. It was tempting, and who was Judas to deny temptation?
Normally, a food court wasn't her usual spot to have lunch. High end restaurants, on someone else's money, were her choice but a client had canceled (something about a wife who was getting suspicious. Like she cared) and she did like the cinnamon rolls here.
Having no one to dress up for, she'd picked a nice pair of jeans and a comfortable shirt. She wasn't planning on advertising what her profession was. With a sigh she had begun picking at the roll before the familiar sensation of immortal crept along her skin. Despite having turned her back on the religion that had made her flesh and bones, she could always tell when it was one of them. She glanced around, not spotting anyone familiar before her eyes rested on the man the sensation came from.
For a moment she debated if it was worth it, she ignored Hell and Heaven as much as possible, before taking her tray and walking to him. "Afternoon. A stranger that I seem to find familiar."
Judas looked up at her, teeth snapping on the end of a chip. She felt immortal. Judas felt a little edgy, but she didn't seem threatening. "And you are?" he said bluntly after a moment, having watched her sit down. If she looked to be more trouble than she was worth, he was out of there.
"Delilah," she gave a smile. She'd long decided she hardly cared for the opinions of those who had labeled her and made her what she was now. If he was one of those who blamed her, she'd enjoy trying to get under his skin.
"Of Sorek," she added, in case her name didn't ring a bell. She wasn't the only one they'd used to show the evil of her gender. "And yourself?"
Oh, Delilah. Judas knew of her. He relaxed a bit and gave her a wry smile. If she thought he'd be judging her for what she did, she was sorely mistaken, and if she wanted to find blame with him, she was a hypocrite. He laughed softly, mostly at his own expense, and picked up his burger again. "Judas," he replied in a gravelly voice, ruined by centuries of smoking, and took a bite of his burger, watching her reaction.
Her eyebrows raised for a moment before she gave an actual smile. "A pleasure then." She relaxed a bit. At least she wouldn't get the infinite amounts of 'why could you' here. She wondered if he understood the whole sense of aggravation she had about the whole mess at times. Not having your own fate in your own hands wasn't always fun.
She nibbled on the roll as she studied him, "been here long?" She paused for a moment, "because this city crawls with our types."
Judas frowned at that. He didn't want to be running into anyone he'd run into before. Especially Mary. That bitch carried a grudge. "A little while. I keep my head down," he replied. "I lost my job after the crash and managed to get a new one here. It's not much, but it keeps me in booze. What are you doing here?" He didn't really care an awful lot, but it was polite, and it had been a long time since he'd last had a proper conversation with someone who wasn't his dealer.
"I go where the money is, and Washington is too obvious. Besides even a girl like me has standards, and politicians are not it." Businessmen were easier, and knew how to keep their mouths shut. She saw too many politicians in the news with their affairs, and she wasn't planning on having her name be in the papers. It'd cost her too many clients.
She wondered if he'd guess what she did so she just shrugged, "old habits you know. For some, company is a matter of what's in their wallets. Still, continue with your head down. I manage, but I have pissed fewer people off."
A sneer flitted across Judas' face when she mentioned she'd pissed fewer people off, but it was at himself, not her. "I work with money. I know how it is." He knew enough of his colleagues and superiors who hired hookers. He couldn't really afford it very often, but he had been there himself in the past. He liked the ones who would smoke with him before. And after. "Everyone still hates me, only this time it wasn't my fault. I know family men who work at the bank and got abused for it." He shrugged a shoulder. "Doesn't bother me so much."
She chuckled, "well we're both in professions that people aren't exactly keen on. They blame your sort for putting the country in debt, and mine for luring those gentlemen away from their wives. And while my vanity sure likes that reasoning, men cheat because they want to. It has little to do with appearances." She finished her treat and set her hands on the table, "what bank?"
Judas waved a vague hand in that direction. "You know. Down from the Starbucks. Bank of America at the moment." He finished his burger and silently offered Delilah some fries. "Men are cheats. I know this for a fact. Don't trust anyone. All men are morally bankrupt, what difference does it make if they pay for sex or drugs?"
She nodded, "I might take my business there then," it wasn't pity or sympathy, just then if her money vanished she'd have someone to blame. Smiling she took the fries, nibbling on them, "oh honey I've known that all my life. It just amuses me when they blame everyone but themselves. You know you're the only one who will agree with me on that. It's refreshing."
A little surprised by that, Judas sat up a little straighter. Then he slumped again, his usual self-hatred taking hold again. "I'm not exactly an example to live by," he said, tearing open a packet of sauce to draw patterns in with his fries. "I am well aware of the failings of men. Paying for what you want done isn't a new concept. And I've watched that Penn & Teller show. It is all bullshit."
She rolled her eyes, not having to pretend around him. He wasn't a client, nor would he judge, "And what, I am? We share some similarities. You open peoples wallets, I their legs. We both fuck them," she smirked. "I believe in getting things done on my own. It's touchy, asking my matron to do anything." She laughed then, "then why are we here? There's a reason I suppose."
Judas pulled a face. "If I knew why we were here, I would do something about it and move on. I don't want to fuck people over, but it's the only job I seem to be able to do. This world is nothing but sin and vice. Nothing has been bright since..." He stopped, lips twitching with emotion. Way to scare off the only person in his life who was being nice to him for no reason. He realised he'd been drawing a cross in the sauce, bright red and glistening, and instantly lost his appetite.
She watched him, not too sure what to say. Her moments of guilt were there, but she pushed past them. She'd betrayed as well, for her own reasons. "My apologies then. I see things a different way. Past, is past, to me." She shrugged. "I'm not very good with comfort, all I can say is that our fate was never in our own hands. We were puppets. I prefer to blame the puppeteer rather then myself." For a brief moment her fingers touched his wrist, "but I'm not you. I can't help but I can understand a little."
Judas opened his mouth to reply, but closed it just as quickly and gave her a weak smile, biting back bitter words. "Great Puppet Master be damned," he said at last, splaying his fingers on the table. "I guess I'm not so good at moving on, but that's no reason to rant at you. This is why I don't make many friends." He shrugged, fumbling in his pocket for a cigarette. "Do you want to walk outside? I need a smoke."
She smiled, "feel free, I've gotten very good at listening. Or at least pretending I am." Smiling she nodded, gathering her things and waiting for him, before following. "we're all different though. But I don't always make many friends amongst those like us either."
Judas walked out of the mall in silence, digesting her words. Upon reaching the outside world and going around the side away from the door a bit, Judas lit up his cigarette and took a deep inhale, before offering it to Delilah. "So do you smoke or drink much?" he asked, scuffing his shoe on the concrete.
She held up her hand to the offering, "no thank you. I don't smoke cigarettes. When I do smoke tobacco, it's usually with a hooka. I drink when the occasion calls for it. I do more then spread my legs. I go to dinners, hang off arms." She waved her hand to suggest other things. "Funny story, back before everything what I did was sacred to a goddess. I still hold to that." She glanced out to the parking lot and watched the people.
Judas shrugged a shoulder. "More for me then," he said, drawing in a lungful of smoke. "Fuck sacred. If the gods wanted us to worship them, they'd have been kinder to us." He glanced skyward and exhaled disdainfully at it.
She smiled and shrugged, "Gods are not supposed to be kind, but everyone to their own." So many had tried to convert her, or try and 'redeem' her. She didn't need either so she hardly pressed when someone decided to walk away from it all.
But standing like this and listening to noise made life almost peaceful.