Marina Andrieski (andrieski) wrote in thedisplaced, @ 2018-09-18 23:55:00 |
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Marina was trying to branch out. She knew it was easy to stick to her small circle of Julia and the stray cat that had taken up residence outside their house, but she didn’t really feel like that worked for her. She supposed there were others in her circle, but she didn’t really spend much time with them. There were a few people she could have reached out to. There was Kenzi and Wynonna. Still, she’d gone for someone that mostly existed for her at work. She thought about things people had said to her about getting to know people and she’d decided to try. She didn’t figure that it would be anything particularly uncomfortable. If it was, the alcohol would take off the edge. Perching on the end of the bed, Marina eyed Ethan quietly as she sipped at her drink. “So, Mr. Pre-20th Century, besides your very serious work at the club, what do you get up to?” Despite the nickname - one that probably wouldn’t stick (it was too long) - she found it wasn’t a sarcastic question or one she asked for the sake of asking. At least not entirely. It was a simple question, one that didn’t delve too deep or require her to immediately return the favor of answering a serious question. It was calculated enough. Ethan had taken a seat on the couch that usually rested against the foot of the bed but had been pulled back to put a few feet between it and the mattress. This allowed for him to sit upon it and face his guest. It also allowed for them to be able to pass the bottle should it be requested. He had apprehended two glasses from down below and brought them upstairs prior to Marina's arrival. Ice had also been hastily purchased from the close convenience store when he knew she was getting close, and now sat in a deep bowl for them to snatch pieces of should they want. He liked the luxury of a cool drink. He sat with his glass held between both hands, slung between his legs as he leaned forward, in rather bad posture but comfortable enough for him. He gave a huff of a laugh. "Work for those portal folks down at the Bureau," he responded, simply enough. He worked more in this century then he ever had his own. Work kept his mind occupied. "Exciting, I know," he then added, with a smirk, as he lifted the glass to take a drink. Marina arched an eyebrow at his comment as she took a sip of her drink. That didn’t sound particularly exciting to her. She’d have wanted to do something less boring. But she didn’t say anything about it right away. “I’m beginning to think I’ve suddenly become the more interesting of the two of us, but it is admittedly a somewhat biased understanding.” She didn’t do too much, but then she did more than she had been. It was difficult to do less. “But if that’s truly all you do…” She trailed off with a pointed look. She didn’t really care if it was all he did. She just found it was easier to tease people than anything else or just be casual with them, without really sharing. “I’ve been teaching. Magic lessons. This month is a little unorthodox.” In that the subject was unlocking locks and a hint of stealing. They hadn’t gotten to the stealing part, though. It was probably better not to mention it. “But there’s been a few parties and things to go to.” "It is essentially all I do," he informed her. He made certain to keep busy. If he didn't keep busy, his mind wandered. And when his mind wandered, it was back in London of the past, visiting the familiar regrets and demons of his past. He gave an idle shrug to match the casual tone of their conversation. "I've been reading on days I don't work." Victor and Vanessa were the ones who took to poetry. Ethan was more interested in the adventure novels that seemed to have gained popularity after his pull from time. At present, H. G. Wells was cherished. "That sounds as though it has significantly more value than anything I have been doing." He brought his glass to his lips and took another swig of the amber liquid. "What makes your teaching style unorthodox?" As for parties, the corner of his lips turned up into a smirk at the suggestion. "I've yet to attend a modern party. I went to the one the Trickster threw. I am not certain I would call it modern." His choice of words were intentional. He was aware of Norse myth, and Loki's place in it, but he would not bring himself to speak of him as a God. And it had felt like a party for and by a Viking. Marina eyed him quietly for a moment. It was all he did. Except reading. She resisted the urge to sigh. She was going to have to get him to trying more things apparently. Otherwise she had a feeling he was going to be depressing before too long. Or maybe he just really liked being boring. She wasn’t sure. “We’re hedges, Ethan. The law’s always been more bendy for us.” Then again, she’d met a few Brakebills people who weren’t too bothered by the law, but there were usually Brakebills magicians protecting the law and certain places. She didn’t know the magicians from the 40th timeline terribly well, but they’d gone off saving elephants and the like, so she figured - despite the questionable legality of their methods - they were more interested in doing good. Julia was the only one she knew for sure didn’t really mind the issues with lawfulness. She was a hedge in her timeline, though. “So we’re showing people how to survive in situations where legality is questionable and you have to be able to live.” It was vague, but eh. “You should try a modern party.” The word modern seemed ridiculous to her, but he was Ethan. “And Loki’s party was okay. I had to leave early for work, but it was entertaining enough before that.” "And hedges is a term in your community?" The Wiccans he'd associated with, out of necessity more than desire, hadn't ever used the term in his presence. He couldn't say if it was even a term they used at all. "Law's ought to be bendy for more folk," he commented, with a hint of a gruff, as he lowered the glass and the ice cubes clanked against the side of the glass. He had a bit of an opinion about legality. "Legality should be thrown to the wind when you've got to chose between it and survival," he added after she explained. "Far as I'm concerned, you're doing a service for your fellow brethren if that's the case." "I should, should I?" He asked, a hint of amusement crossing his features. "You be sure to alert me to the next instance and perhap I shall." As for work, he understood that. He'd had to do the same. "Sometimes we have to meet our obligations." “Hedge witches. Hedges for short. Sometimes we’re just called a hedge. It means we didn’t learn traditionally. Brakebills is considered the place to be.” She made a face, one that said she didn’t agree before she took another sip of her drink. Brakebills was shit. Okay, it had a lot of useful things, but it was also a pain in the ass. She could say it because she’d been there and she saw how they treated people they considered problems. She’d been one of those people. “Well, then I’m a bastion of good will and wonderful ethics.” She snorted lightly at the end of the sentence, rolling her eyes just slightly. “Back home I had to teach a whole hedge full of people. The few people we have now is practically nothing comparatively.” She missed having more hedges, more people, but there weren’t many that were there and the few that were were either children or acted like it. Or they were Alucard who...she didn’t really have a feeling about yet. There was a hint of a smile after he spoke. “I guess I’ll have to. Otherwise you might continue to bore me with your stories of solitude, work, and reading on your off days. Drinking buddies need better stories than that.” "Ah, an institution for the 'elite.'" It wasn't that he felt as though this school was for the better individuals or not. It just seemed as though perhaps those who had attended felt themselves as superior. He imagined Marina was just as talented and he imagined if she and her coven was putting in the effort to teach others, they had some merit. "Hedge," he repeated, finding amusement in the title. He would stash it away for future use. Then there was a hearty laugh. "Like hell you are," he burst out but it wasn't unkind. He liked that about her. "I've better drinking stories from back home. Here is dull." There was another shrug. "Weren't you supposed to be teaching me games of a sort tonight?" “The assumed elite,” she said after a moment. She felt the desire to tell him that she’d been there herself, but she didn’t. She’d get there eventually. Or she wouldn’t. It depended on how she felt later. She wrinkled her nose slightly before allowing herself to be more comfortable on the bed. She grinned a little at his laugh and the words that followed. She wasn’t serious about it anyway, so it hadn’t really upset her to be told she was full of shit. Vex had a habit of telling her she was full of shit when she didn’t want it. But she’d survived even that, which meant she was just fine. “I guess you should tell stories from home, then.” She paused when he mentioned drinking games before nodding. “You’ve probably never heard of it, but it’s called Never Have I Ever. You’re supposed to say something you’ve never done and then if you’ve done it, you have to drink. It works better with more people, but...oh well.” She shrugged slightly. She tried to think of a possible example. “An example is...never have I ever shot a gun. Cheating, but no one said I couldn’t. She stuck her tongue out slightly.” "That is usually true of any who claim to be," he noted, and hoped it carried the understanding that he didn't think she was less superior to her cohorts. The grin made him smile. It had been a long time since he had much in the way of friends. The ones he had gained last year either were gone or didn't remember him. He didn't fancy the idea of shoving himself into their lives just because they had once been friendly. So he was rather grateful toward Marina. "Perhaps I will." As for which stories he wasn't certain. Most would lead to Victor, Vanessa or Malcolm. His family that he missed dearly, even if one was technically here, and the other was long gone. "Oh, you are a dirty cheat," he commented before lifting his glass. He took a swig and when he lowered it from his lips, he pointed in her direction with the hand that was holding the glass. "Never have I ever taught magic." If she was going to cheat, he would cheat. She decided not to acknowledge his words because she didn’t want to acknowledge that she was pleased by them. Instead, she focused her attention on the prospect of stories and the look on his face as he called her a cheat. She looked particularly pleased with herself. His words hardly surprised her. Anyone would do the same. She took a sip of her drink, thinking for a moment. “Never have I ever...worn a hat.” She ever so slightly wrinkled her nose as if she minded. She didn’t mind, but she thought it entertaining that he was such a cowboy sometimes. She leaned back slightly, amusement showing in her eyes. “Let’s see how good you are at cheating, Ethan Chandler.” "I don't believe you," he said in response to the claim she'd just made, even though he was lifting his tumbler up to his mouth to take a swig. He drained it now and shifted to lean forward and grab the bottle. He topped it off and set it back down. "What's the rules when I don't believe you?" “There’s not rules for that. And you have no way to prove otherwise.” She grinned at that, leaning forward again slightly. “I guess you’ll have to use your limited knowledge of me to get me to drink. She had, in fact, worn snow hats in the winter when she was younger, when she actually played in the snow. She didn’t count that, however. Also she was cheating and she refused to admit, in that moment, that she had lied. She’d eventually figure out more as she went along. She’d have to learn things about him eventually and there was no better way than starting here. “So get to cheating, Cowboy.” "You're telling me you're Mama never put you in one of those baby bonnets? I've seen them. They are still in fashion," he commented, calling her out. He did highly doubt she was being honest but it wasn't a huge deal. He just enjoyed pointing out her almost obvious lie. But, letting it go, he thought for a moment. "Never have I ever pulled my hair back into a band." He didn't exactly know the modern term for 'ponytail.' “I don’t know what she did, but we weren’t really a baby pictures kind of family, so life’s a mystery in that department.” She made a face at him that was meant as an ‘oh well’ sort of expression. Her expression shifted slightly and she arched an eyebrow. “It’s called a ponytail and it’s been a while since I’ve needed to.” She took a sip all the same. “My hair used to be longer, but I guess cutting it shorter and not curling it was a lot easier when everyone was dying.” She shrugged and took another drink to get past that one. “Never have I everrrr...taken something that didn’t belong to me.” That was definitely a lie and he already knew it, so she drank anyway. She was curious to see if he had, though. She was curious about most of what happened, which was unusual, but felt less threatening than the fact that she was curious about Holland. She wasn’t sure why, though. "Mhm." There was a smirk on his lips as he said that but he didn't push it any further. The smirk remained when she took the drink. "Well, learn something new every day. 'Ponytail,'" he repeated before nodding his head. "Sounds to me like you're pretty certain on that fact." He shifted, moving to recline a bit more comfortably on the sofa. "Mine was cut by a US Marshall," he didn't look to her when he said this, his eyes now up towards the ceiling. "Cut it practically to the scalp when they shoved me on a boat," he added. He was giving her a free glimpse into his past. He wasn't exactly certain as to why. Then he huffed a bit of a laugh. He knew that was a lie and his gaze shifted to her. As she lifted her glass, he lifted his own and took a swig. "Never have I ever rode in an airplane." He'd learned the word last year, rather embarrassingly, when he'd asked what the devil was that contraption. Marina arched an eyebrow at the mention of the US Marshall. Clearly he’d done something that warranted the US Marshalls to get involved. She pulled her phone out to look it up to make sure her mind was understanding the situation as it was. “I can’t imagine you with short hair,” she said after a moment. “I still did my eyeliner and lipstick.” She shrugged a little at that. “There wasn’t really anyone to impress, I guess, but some things never die…” She stilled a moment, noting the wording before deciding to act like it didn’t matter. “I like the way it looks.” She sighed and took a drink from her glass. It was a fair comment. It had been a while, though. “So what was the US Marshall about? What kind of trouble did you get yourself into?” She knew this was the middle of a game, but she figured she could ask anyway. “And never have I ever rode a horse.” She wasn’t sure if he had, but he was from the past and the west, so it was definitely possible. "It's not a favored look," he commented with an idle shrug of his shoulders. He'd let his hair grow back to it's normal length in the months since Vanessa's passing. It wasn't necessarily a conscious effort. He'd just not given much will power to it one way or another. He quirked an eyebrow toward her. "I do not believe I can recall ever seeing you without either." He wondered just how that might look. He imagined she would still look quite as appealing to the eye as she usually did. As for not needing anyone to impress, he nodded, understanding that far too well. He tilted his head, noting her phone, and then gave a soft smile. "I suppose it was alright." He ran his thumb along the edge of his glass. That was an answer that would be a level of trust he'd not given any in this realm. He drew in a breath. "I killed my commanding officer." There was no shame in that death for Ethan. Not in the way he felt shame for all the others that preceded it that day. As for the game, he lifted his drink, though slower, and took a larger swallow. “No. I can’t imagine it is.” She smiled just a little. “Well, I’m not being hunted down by some crazy person, so doing my hair and make up’s back on the list of things I feel the need to do every day. Mostly the hair is the unusual part.” Because she’d liked her hair, she’d like the style of it and the way she dressed, the way she looked all put together. It was why she didn’t like to give in the the Texas heat when it came to clothes. The response was definitely something. If she’d been exactly the girl she was before, she might have considered how she could use it, but there wasn’t really anything to use it for when she had both magic and far more money than previously expected. Also she liked Ethan, strange as that knowledge felt to her. She liked Julia, too. She was fairly certain that she liked Kenzi, but it was hard to be entirely certain. They had fun anyway. “I kidnapped two people and meant to set them up to be...whatever it was the Beast that was Julia’s unimpressive friend before wanted to do to them.” She shrugged slightly. “All it did was end up getting Josh killed. Not that I missed him when there was another one right there, but…” She took a drink, letting the game fall away for the moment. “All of the people worth anything were already dead by then.” Yep, she needed more drinks for this. He was reclining still against the sofa when she made that admission and his gaze turned back in her direction. The tumbler was rested against his chest and he was silent for a moment. He didn't know what the Beast was but he wasn't a slow man. It was easy to put two and two together. She'd kidnapped individuals for bait and she'd lost one of them in the process. The fact that there was another of him, Josh, didn't quite make sense to Ethan just now but it made sense to her so he wasn't going to question it. He frowned. "I've not gotten to the point of all of them, but the best of them have," he offered up from his own experiences. Mutual grief. He lifted and took another drink. There was a silence before he found it too uncomfortable and turned his gaze back to her. "Never have I ever been to Florida." It was hard to explain to people who didn’t already have an ingrained knowledge of there being multiple timelines and Marina didn’t always think to tell people about the forty timelines that existed. She knew the outcome of two timelines only. The past timelines were a mystery to her and the ones between hers and the fortieth were the same. She wondered how many times she’d died, how many times everyone else did. She’d learned the price of helping others. At least helping them in a way that wasn’t just … providing spells, teaching. She didn’t want to find the price hers to pay again and the feeling of it lingering in the future was difficult to cope with at the best of times, so she did what any sane and normal person would do: she ignored it and buried it so deep she couldn’t feel it anymore. The alcohol both served to numb her to it, but bring it back to a place where she recognized it. She was grateful for the game to come back and very nearly smiled, taking a quick drink. It had been a while, but… “Never have I ever broken a bone.” It was another lie, but she waited to see if he would drink before drinking. "You'll have to tell me about that someday. Every time I hear people in this era speak of it, they mention a kingdom," he commented, because she'd taken a drink which clearly meant she had gone. He didn't understand what kingdom could possibly be in part of the United States. That was the point of the Country after all. To get away from all of that. Then he lifted his glass and took a drink. He sucked in a breath once he had and dragged his arm across his lips. "That a situation where you take a drink for each or just once will suffice?" There was a smirk with the question. He was giving her more pieces of himself but...he seemed alright with the idea. “Disney World? Never been there. The Disney princess thing doesn’t really do it for me. Who wants to limit themselves by getting married to a prince so they can live happily ever after?” She scrunched up her nose. “I guess the songs are catchy, but the overall theme is you need to find love and be married and blah blah blah. It’s not realistic.” She had gone for the parties when she was in college the first time. She hadn’t really been back since. At least she couldn’t say she lived there. “It’s an amusement park.” She considered it. “Well, how many sips would it be? We can always just have you down a whole glass if it’s too many.” She herself really only had the one to speak of. She’d fallen out of a tree when she was younger and broken an arm. It wasn’t serious and it hadn’t affected her after that. "Is that the same? I thought it was a Kingdom. Though, if you are mentioning Princesses…" he mused with a shrug of his shoulders. He made a slight 'mmm' noise in response to the rest of her statement. He didn't suppose there was anything wrong with marrying a Prince if it was providing you with what you wanted. He didn't reckon most in that position ever did it for love. It was more of a business arrangement. "Can't speak ill at the notion of love. Don't know so much about the songs." He tilted his head to look at her. "Amusement for monarchs?" "Can't say. At least three?" Another shrug. He had been rough on himself as a child. Paul hadn't helped matters. He shifted and instead of picking up his tumbler, he took the whole bottle and drew a long drink from it before pulling it away to set back down upon the ground. Marina gave him one of her patented looks before sighing. “You really are a pre-20th century boy.” She took a drink. “It’s not a kingdom for starters. Not like they used to have. Monarchs are basically not a thing anymore. Even in England, they’re just there for show. Practically.” She paused for a moment. “It’s a place where kids and sometimes also adults go to go on rides specific to certain movies or whatever. There’s a place where you can go see animals and a place where they try to represent different countries. They have a castle, but it’s not a real thing. It’s just...people like to pretend to be princesses and all that. So no. Amusement for regular people like you and I. Though, the jury is still out on calling you a regular person. Amusement for monarchs.” She snorted lightly. She watched him drink and took a sip herself before holding her glass out for more alcohol. She supposed they could share bottles. She wouldn’t care. She just figured if they were going to drink from the bottle for multiple drinks, she might as well keep to the cup for her simple ones. “Your turn.” "1891," he stated in immediate response, with something of a smug look upon his face. Typically his prior year of residence was a hindrance but in this moment it brought him some amusement, if only because he rather liked the way she'd toss looks, and he knew that would warrant one. Then there was a huff. "That's not all too unfamiliar of a notion in my time either, you know. Figure heads." There was a light shrug but then he shifted so that he could listen to her explanation more. "I'd say the folks who aren't like us would have a bit of a debate as to whether you were considered regular yourself. We're all pretty little stories for them to consume," he pointed out before shifting to pour some more alcohol into her glass. "Ah, it is, isn't it?" He drew in a breath. "Never have I ever been married." Marina did, in fact, give him a look. 1891. She was so glad she wasn’t from that time. She guessed she wouldn’t care if she’d been from then, but having been from this time in New York? Yeah, she didn’t want to travel back in time. “Excuse you, but I’m perfectly regular.” She knew it wasn’t true and she prided herself on not being the same as everyone else. The amusement disappeared from her expression for a moment as she thought about being something that people watched. Her life was something people probably talked about. She didn’t want to think about it. So she took a sip of her drink instead. “Thank god I can’t say that.” Her expression shifted once again to something more entertained. “Never have I ever...had sex in a church.” It wasn’t that she wouldn’t, but she just hadn’t. In Ethan's mind, Marina was fairly normal, but he'd been in Tumbleweed long enough this time and the prior year to know that not all would agree with his viewpoint. The supernatural wasn't part of the routine for most and that had been the way in his world, too. She'd have been just like him in his time. Relegated to the shadows and keeping a low profile. He caught the shift in her expression, however, and there was a light frown. He didn't comment on it and instead took a drink from his own glass in suit. There was a chuckle and he took another drink at her statement. "My Mama would have tanned my hide." Though, truth be told, he didn't think he could swear he all together wouldn't dependent on circumstances. Marina snorted slightly. “Your Mama. I don’t think my mom much cares what I do.” And she wasn’t concerned about it either. She wondered if her mom knew what had happened at all since magic was lost or if her parents even knew about what happened in the 40th timeline. Another line of thought she wanted to avoid. “Be real. You’d have sex in a church if you wanted to fuck someone enough.” It was possible that wasn’t true, but she was perfectly fine assuming otherwise. She was quiet for a moment. “So explain your drinking game. It’s really so simple as ‘don’t drink with your dominant hand’?” He didn't comment on that but there was a quiet thought to himself about how much his Mother would have cared about what he'd done. He cleared his throat and though they were between questions, took another drink. But he was pulled from thoughts of the Talbot family and gave a laugh, before nodding his head, "I do not deny." "Mmm? Ah, yes. Buffalo." He shifted, sitting up properly and hanging the glass down between his legs. "It's a matter of catching someone off guard. It's essentially a game you never stop playing. Better for surprise rounds, when they don't realize you are paying attention, and you call them out. It's...much more of a long game than this." She smirked when he agreed. It wasn’t a very serious victory, but it was something all the same. “I like being right on occasion.” Try all the time, but she would feign modesty for the moment. “Oh. It sounds a lot more boring this way. Do you have any fun drinking games? I can teach you flip cup. Or basically any of the other college drinking games.” There was a pause. “Or we could each take a bottle and see who can drink more than the other and you will probably win, but I will put up an impressive fight and then you can sleep on the floor.” "Just on occasion?" He questioned but it didn't sounded as though there was judgement about it. More like he knew better and didn't seem to mind. He gave a warm smile before shaking his head. "Unfortunately not. Perhaps we can save flip cup for another night and just proceed with me drinking you under the table? I await my victory." He gave a challenging smirk. "Floor? No, no. My nice little couch here." He patted the chair at the edge of the bed lovingly. She shrugged slightly. “Maybe all the time.” She’d just tried a dash of modesty. “Whatever.” Instead of lingering for too long on that, however, she held out her hand for a bottle. “It’s not really losing if I’m drunk since that was the point of tonight.” She did her best haughty expression. Maybe she’d regret this in the morning, but for now, she was willing to ignore the future and what came with it. “Floor, couch. Same difference. Either way, I’m commandeering your bed.” |