log: Marta and Tim in the City Who: Marta and Tim What: A meeting in the city Where: The Capital When: Now-ish, Early Morning Warnings/Rating: Usual Marta warnings
It'd been a long night at work. She'd been tired enough to fall asleep on the bus ride into the city, and the hours of sex and blood hadn't helped her feel any livlier. She thought about what Aedan had said, something about iron, and she wondered if he was right. She hadn't looked it up because it was just easier to ignore it and pretend everything was okay. And if it got to weighing too much on her mind, she had a couple of sure-fire ways to stop thinking too much about anything. Harry might have left town, but she still thanked him in her mind for helping her to find a way to cope with things. Or to not cope with them. Whatever. She didn't have to worry about it. She just had to worry about getting back to her apartment in the Capital when, like that night, it was too much of a challenge to find her way back to Repose. Plus, with the days getting cooler again, the apartment in the city was guaranteed to be warmer than the single-room studio over the tattoo shop.
She had no issue getting into the building itself, wandering through the small open area on the first floor that could probably be called a lobby. It made her think of hotels she'd seen on TV, with someone always sitting behind a counter where residents could find help if needed. The same guy was always there after Marta finished up work, some sort of quiet third shift in the hours just following dawn. Sometimes she smiled at him, sometimes she purposely ignored him, and sometimes she was just too out of it to react to him at all. It was one of those nights - more customers than usual and payday in the form of pills instead of cash - and whether he was silent or said something as she passed through the lobby, she couldn't have told someone if they'd asked. She just focused on putting one foot in front of the other on the way to her apartment.
But once she got to the familiar door, her key wouldn't turn in the lock. A second look at the number confirmed that she was trying the right apartment, and the key slid in fine. It just wouldn't turn. She tried both directions even, but nothing. So she went back downstairs. The guy watched with a frown as she approached again, focusing as best she could on describing the problem. But when he gave his response to her issue, the words of his reply didn't make sense to her at first. She blinked at him a few times until he repeated himself, and the words didn't change. They finally made sense. Sort of.
The rent hadn't been paid, so they'd changed the locks. She couldn't get inside any longer, and if she wanted to claim anything left behind (his expression saying clearly enough that there wasn't anything left behind that anyone should want to claim), she could contact the building's higher management during the work day. A card was slid over with an office number, and then he asked (in the way that wasn't a request) that she leave the building.
She couldn't even argue. She wasn't the one paying the rent, and she didn't even know how to get ahold of the person who was. She didn't even know their name. She could try on the forum again, but she knew there was the chance they weren't even around anymore. Wouldn't that explain the lack of rent payments? Either that, or they got sick of paying it (just like she'd thought would happen from the beginning), and her contacting them wouldn't change anything. The final straw could've picked a better night, but she wasn't surprised. She just had to stay focused enough to get back to her apartment in Repose.
Fitted jacket, too-high heels, and bare legs, she made her way toward the closest bus stop with almost-steady clicks of shoes against concrete. Her path wasn't always straight, veering just a bit from time to time. She made it without incident to the bus stop and gratefully perched on the single bar provided instead of a bench. She hated that it wasn't an actual seat, but even the slight bit of relief was welcome. She didn't know the time without digging out her phone, and that seemed too much effort for the moment, so she just locked her knees and closed her eyes and let herself drift, knowing that the bus would be by eventually.
She didn't know how much time had passed, but the engine that finally came to idle in front of the bus stop wasn't loud or deep enough to be the bus. It sounded like a car, and (when she opened her eyes) a expensively new one at that. The passenger's side window was down, and she could see at least two people in the vehicle - driver and passenger - both male, both white, both grinning like they were in on a joke she hadn't heard. "Hey! Lookin' for a ride? We can give you a ride." The passenger hooked his arm out the window and gestured her over, unsubtle about his meaning. But Marta was tired. Moreso even than usual. So she shook her head.