Pepper is the sword-arm of crazy (pickledpepper) wrote in blurred_lines, @ 2008-07-25 18:24:00 |
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Entry tags: | ! [1979-07] july, adelaide quinn, octavius pepper |
Who: Riley and Pepper
Where: A coffee shop half a block north of The World's End, Camden, London
When: Thursday evening
What: Pepper is attempting to get in before the mail to break the news to Riley properly.
Rating: PG-13 for sad and probably swearing
Status: Complete
It was probably a pity that Pepper was completely oblivious to all the locational irony that had been happening lately - what with commenting to Dorcas about his neighbours screaming, unaware that it had been her, and now trying to think of somewhere he could meet Riley when she was sitting just across the street from him, it was a little bit like the entire universe was in Camden. As he was oblivious though, he was unable to reflect on this as he threw on a light summer jacket, settling Cleo around his neck as he headed down the stairs of his building to walk down the street to the cafe he'd be meeting her at. He didn't really want to do this in public, but hopefully it would be relatively empty, and quite frankly anything was better than an owl.
Despite it being summer, the weather was clouded over, and he found himself appreciating the slight warmth of lizard against the skin of his neck, reaching up to pet her absently. His walk was fairly brisk and it didn't take him long to reach the coffee shop; he breathed a sigh of relief as he did, noting that it was, indeed, almost deserted. Riley wasn't there yet, so he decided to take the liberty of ordering them both drinks - coffee, black, and if it turned out she didn't like coffee he'd damn well drink it himself. He really wasn't in the mood to dick around with anything else, not when he was this close to just requesting a syringe so he could mainline it directly.
The note left to her by Pepper was rather strange -- Riley could not begin to imagine why he of all people should desire a conversation with her. Was he trying to poke fun? She didn't understand, but perhaps the shock itself was enough to bring her on her feet and take her down the stairs (what posessed her to actually accept the invitation was certainly another question to ponder upon). Was it perhaps boredom? Emmeline was pleasant company, certainly, but only pleasant company when she was actually around, and so the quill that had so dutifully accepted Pepper's invitation ran quickly across the cool parchment, leaving a note to Emmeline about her whereabouts. After all, if this meeting proved to be her downfall, someone should know.
The notion of being stalked did pop up in her brain, however -- their meeting place was eerily close to her current residence. This was perhaps a lucky coincidence -- after all, apparating into a muggle pub was never the most normal of things -- but the strange perfection of the meeting place being only a block away was a bit too eerie -- No. She cleared (or at least attempted to clear) herself of such thoughts -- Emmeline would never sell her out. Right? Regardless, her thoughts were enough to occupy her brain while her feet took her to the meeting point (almost too occupying -- she walked a couple steps past the door to the shop before realizing she had past it and turned around) and soon she found herself facing Pepper, a queerly quirked eyebrow as she regarded him apprehensively. "Hello," she said, for the lack of anything better to say. "So.. why'd you call me?" Getting straight to the point was much easier.
Pepper had been staring idly out the window while waiting for a) the coffees and b) Riley to arrive, so he'd seen her slight lapse in concentration and had to smother an amused expression at it. She did tend to strike him as a bit absent minded sometimes, though all too often "absent minded" stretched into something far less palatable, and it was probably very justified of her to wonder why it was that he suddenly wanted to talk to her. He nodded in greeting just as the barista finished with his order and for a moment he was tied up in paying, a couple of Muggle pound notes and then dealing with the change and two cups and re-locating everything to one of the tables sitting quietly by the wall. "Black coffee, you can ask for milk or sugar if you want." Not exactly the most pointful opener, really, but he was hardly going to just blurt out the reasons for the meeting. Coffee first, then a gentle start, something like, "Have you been reading the journals the last day or two? Aside from my note, I mean, obviously." He gave a bit of a rueful smile at that oversight, an attempt to subtly put himself down as an ice breaker, followed by a sip of the coffee. Oh, god, heavenly coffee.
Pepper's apparent cordiality rang warning tones in Riley's mind -- Oh Merlin -- was he really out here to lure her out and drug her and take her to God knows where and drown her and stick her out a window and set the nargles on her and everything? A slight nerve in her temple pulsed -- there was no denying that she was rather confused by this whole situation. "Yes," she answered slowly, her mind flashing back to all that she had seen -- major highlights included, of course, the deaths of her best mates' families -- both eyes shut closed as if trying to shut out the image, an action entirely counterproductive for it only heightened the intensity of the picture in her mind. She shook her head, rubbing a temple as she took a sip of coffee, another action that upon later reflection she somewhat regretted -- if he were out to kill her, wouldn't he drug the drink? Did it even matter? She had already been fired -- it couldn't get much worse than this. "I'm sorry," she said with another slow shake of the head. "I suspect you already know? Working for the DMLE and all -- y'know, deaths and whatnot."
'Deaths and whatnot'. Well, at least if she already knew about her own family she wouldn't be this calm, not after that post she'd made upon getting fired. You couldn't be that pissed about getting fired for something that was your own damn fault and then refer to something like this as 'deaths and whatnot'. It was a relief, because at least he'd be able to get to one of them - Jo's comment flashed in the back of his mind and he shooed it away in annoyance - but it did mean he was going to have to, again, tell someone that someone close to them was dead. No one enjoyed that. "Yeah, that. It's been a bit chaotic, really." He paused to take another drink, then decided he couldn't really stall over this for too long. "I'm afraid I have some bad news for you."
Wait for a reaction, or continue on? He eyed her for a moment, then decided to keep going. The important thing was that she knew and that she could ask questions and react, which was not something you got from a fucking piece of paper. "It's-- your family. They were targeted in the attacks. Your parents and brother, all three of them, were killed. I'm so sorry." The emphasis might have made the last sentence sarcastic, but it was anything but; the short speech was delivered in a low, sympathetic tone, because as little as he cared about those people, and as much as Riley was anything but his friend, it was hard to not be sympathetic when you were giving news like this. He knew that from long experience; hit wizards were probably right up there with Healers as people who had to do this the most.
"Yeah, no kidding," she answered his comments about chaos -- her words were punctuated with a bit of a half laugh, a nervous sort of laughter that was more a cough than a laugh, and she pressed her lips together firmly to keep herself from saying more. She was not one for showing her depression, especially not to strangers, and so she supported her forehead with her index and middle finger while she looked down, distinctly avoiding Pepper's eyes.
There was no avoiding, however, at his "bad news." The moment he said it her eyes looked up sharply, her face reforming that quizzical expression that it had previously shown prior to their meeting. Her expression spoke volumes, yet she felt the need to enunciate it anyways -- "What? What the fuck is wrong with my family?" she said, before Pepper dropped the bomb. Her expression bore not much change aside from the slight increase of height her eyebrows were on her forehead and the slight opening of her mouth, but in all with her slouched back, body slouched over the table, and one hand sinking two fingers into her temple as if it could just press away misfortunes while the other idly rubbing the edge of her coffee cup, her entire body yelled sulking disbelief. Only a stupidly blind person would think that this was her knee-jerk reaction -- neutral soberness -- to the knowledge of familial death, and in truth it certainly was not -- but these words coming from someone entirely detached from her -- her skeptical reaction could not really be blamed, nor helped.
Perhaps surprisingly, depending on the average observer's past experience with this sort of situation, Pepper had dealt with this kind of disbelief before. News of a change so abrupt and unexpected in a person's life could be difficult to process - bloody difficult to process - especially when there was no physical proof, not even any evidence, in front of them, and it was really not uncommon for the brain to simply deny what it was being told. Death? In my life? Not possible. So clearly it had to be a lie, or some kind of sick prank, anything but what it seemed. "I know it's hard to believe, but I'm telling you the truth," he continued, voice in the same soothing, you can trust me tone as before. It was a mask, like a lot of the rest of his social behaviours, but a convincing one. As he spoke he reached up to unwrap Cleo from around his shoulders, pulling her into his lap so he could pet her, the motion calming him, especially at her pleased clucks. "From what we've gathered a single Death Eater broke in and surprised them. I can say that at least it was quick," he lied; there was no need to tell her the truth, that they'd been tortured, no one needed to hear that, "they probably didn't suffer much."
"You're not hard to believe, you goddamn bastard, you're fucking fooling with me. Now tell me what the fuck is going on before I leave," she spat out to him. This couldn't be happening -- it couldn't. Why would the Death Eaters target her family anyways? She shook her head -- the tone Pepper so carefully gave was wasted on her. She refused to believe.
"And--" she added, upon careful contemplation, "your story doesn't check out. Death Eaters -- known tormentors? If -- and I highly emphasize that if there -- If they by the off chance did decide to visit my family, they would've tortured them. Secondly -- why the fuck would the Death Eaters target me anyways. I'm not some crazy threat or anything, I don't even talk to them, and hell if I know one." The second admission she said with bitter spite -- to say that it was difficult to admit this, to Pepper, of all people, would be the understatement of the year. "You're a crazy fuck, Octavius Pepper -- what are you doing here anyways?"
Okay, admittedly this was going a little further than the usual disbelief did. But, well, you know, he'd dealt with angry people before. And crazy people. And angry crazy people. There had been one guy in particular who'd-- well, he didn't like to think about it very much, but suffice to say he wasn't particularly fond of water pistols anymore, particularly water pistols that did not, in fact, contain water. And he supposed being caught in a lie didn't really particularly help, though it was possible... he remembered that the three year old, Holly (somehow he never forgot the names of the really young ones), had died quickly. "I didn't say it wasn't messy," he said, drawing on that memory. "There was--" No, he didn't need to say that. She'd look back on this later, she didn't need gory details. "It was messy, but fast. And I don't know in particular why they would target you. They aren't always rational. They don't take out physical threats, they target people like-- Dedalus and Lily Potter and Dorcas Meadowes. People who speak against them. They're trying to hit our morale, make us too scared to even say what we think. And you, you definitely say what you think. Maybe that does threaten them."
God, what else was he supposed to say? This was not how he'd expected things to go down. He'd been worried about-- fucking crying in public, and weepy girls, not being accused of being some kind of fucking sicko who got off on making this sort of shit up. Though looking at her, he knew not to take it personally. She was in shut down mode, probably clutching at any kind of explanation that would let her stay in denial. That... actually kind of just made him feel more sorry for her. "The reason I told you not to read your mail is that Crouch decided to notify everyone by owl. You'll see when you get home. I do this for a living, Riley, and there is no way I can stand for informing someone of something like this by owl. I don't mind if you don't believe me now, or think I'm playing some kind of twisted joke on you. This is exactly why you needed to be told in person, so you'd have someone to react to, with whatever reaction you had. And I mean it when I say I'm sorry."
Wait -- Dedalus? The list seemed to have one thing in common -- deaths in the family. Lily, Dorcas -- they both had murders in the family, but Dedalus? She waved a hand at Pepper, clearly distracted by this new development. "Dedalus? Why are you mentioning Dee? I mean -- Lily and Dorrie -- they both had..." She gulped, as if trying to force the words back down her throat (if she didn't say it, it couldn't possibly be true, could it?). "--Had recent tragedies--" She could only manage a euphemism -- "but Dee? He's fine, right? He's safe, right?" Her voice had a sort of strange desperation in it -- nothing possibly could have happened to Dee, right? He and Emmeline were the only two shining lights left -- nothing could happen to them -- nothing should happen to them.
Her thoughts drifted back to the owl notice sitting on the coffee table -- the untouched parchment, crisp and clean, with the DMLE's official seal. She imagined the cold, thin parchment with the words printed on -- was she lucky enough to even merit a handwritten owl? -- a carbon copy letter, the words the same to everyone -- no, she was exaggerating. Surely Bartemius Crouch was not so indecent and insensitive to notify everyone of their familial deaths using such cold manners. Then again.. Pepper did mention that Crouch only used owls. She took a silent gulp, sipping another sip of her too bland and too cold and too black and too damn strange coffee in a too damn strange place -- "..Who?" she quietly asked, completely unwilling to ask more.
That was an open-ended question. Who else had been targeted? Who had done it? Who had investigated it? He had a feeling it was linked to her questions about Dedalus though, still more focused on external factors than her own loss. Even if she was calming down, she still didn't believe it, it hadn't had time to sink in properly yet. "I'm not sure exactly. I think the same, parents, siblings. Alastor Gumboil might know, or Elle, Gummy said Dedalus was with them last night. He's safe himself, he wasn't there, but... I imagine he's very upset, understandably." He studied her a moment, trying to gauge her mood; she seemed to have started closing in on herself. That wasn't very good, really. He wasn't going to be able to leave her alone like this. "You should be with someone. Are you staying alone, or do you have a flatmate, someone to talk to...?"
This couldn't be happening -- this shouldn't be happening. Were her parents really dead? And her brothers? Aidan? Cassidy? How were they -- were they really dead? Pepper had to have been lying -- there was no logical reason for them to be targeted. It didn't make any sense. "My parents -- Dedalus, Cassidy, Aidan on occasion -- they are all quiet, peace loving people. There is no reason for them to be attacked." Every word emphasized, every word enunciated -- Riley was on the verge of a mental collapse.
Yet Riley was not one to admit such weaknesses -- she had already fulfilled her quota for the day for destruction of pride with her earlier admission. She swallowed -- her mouth was dry and bitter with the aftertaste of too black coffee -- she drank -- the searing heat scorched her tongue and only caused her to choke. "And?" she said quietly. "Of my family? --If" -- she was quick to amend her own words -- "of course, they really are dead, which ones are?"
Oh, that who. He'd sort of assumed she'd only had the two parents and one brother, which admittedly was probably a bad assumption to make. Pepper thought of Meaghan's anger over Kirley being left unaware with the nanny and winced mentally at his own lapse in thought, but then he'd been at home when he'd had the conversation at Jo, it wasn't as though he could quickly look up Riley's file to see who all her family members were. Yes, that was a good excuse, never mind that it only covered half his arse. "Seamus, Aiden, Mary-Elizabeth." He remembered those names. He'd probably forget them soon enough - there were too many to keep track of, he'd done this too many times, over the last three years - but for now, he remembered them. "Both parents. One brother."
She did sound like she was starting to accept it though, and that could only be a good thing. In the long term at least. For now it could mean the tears and weeping he'd steeled himself for, and undoubtably she'd prefer the denial, but for her own sake, she needed to accept it. Hopefully soon so he could go home and hex things some more, and he didn't care if that sounded callous, there was no one in his own head to hear it and care. This was not supposed to be his responsibility.
Riley's eyes widened as she heard his words -- each name settling into the pit of her stomach, bringing her further and further down, weighing her down with the inevitable guilt and depression. What did she think earlier? There was not much worser than being fired?
Wrong. Wrong fucking wrong as hell. Her parents were dead. Aidan was dead. Cassidy -- was spared, but no where to be found. Her eyes dropped from his face to a swirling patch of dark brown and brown on the table, her widened eyes focusing in and out on nothing in particular. Hands that had previously been politely folded in her lap crept to the edges of the chair, holding on to the sides as if for dear life -- she knew the need to stop herself. There was an uncontrollable rage surging -- a need for revenge -- or at least for a piece of furniture to take her anger out on. "Get out," she said, her throat dry, her tone a low snarl. "Go back and do your other hitwizardly things."
And there it was. What was it? Denial, anger, bargaining, grief, acceptance? Well Riley had damn well hit anger now, and he wondered if maybe he should have left Cleo at home - he couldn't leave her here like this, and he didn't want the lizard getting hurt in the crossfire. Carefully he picked her up to place her around his neck again, but made no move to get up. "I'm off-duty," he replied calmly. "And I can't leave you alone like this. Is anyone home where you live?" Please, please let her say yes. Even if she said no he could at least get her there safely, though-- it was entirely possible she'd refuse to let him know where she lived. Bloody fucking paranoid-- well, not that he could speak there. There were still only four people who knew where he lived.
Pepper's words barely processed in Riley's mind -- instead, she continued her spiteful rampage -- "Go! Go deliver more news to everyone, go write your stupid form letters and your stupid investigations and your stupid useless investigations. Go run your stupid autopsy on my parents' bodies -- go falsify your sympathy to every damn person you meet, go--" her voice broke and she looked away, allowing the hair that flew through the air land on the side of her face -- a barrier between her and her.. companion (or should it be antagonist?). She wouldn't cry -- no, she should never cry in front of others. "Yes, there's someone at home. J-just.. just get out, okay?"
The barista was looking at them but Pepper couldn't much care about that right now, not when he was having a slight internal moral crisis. He really sort of wanted to do what she said and just leave, but if he was doing this thing, he really ought to do it properly, and that meant making sure she wouldn't do anything utterly and completely stupid, anything like. Well. Fabian. Probably that part was fueled a little bit by lingering guilt that he hadn't stopped Fabian, though logically he was quite sure that nothing he could have done could have prevented it. Oh, fuck it. He'd had a fucking shite week and now he'd reminded himself of that again and as much as he had all these noble intentions - fucking hell Jo and her opinions - he really did not want to be here with this angry, grief-stricken, possibly starting to cry girl that he didn't even like. "Alright. Just-- please go home. You need to be in familiar surroundings." It sounded stupid, but it was true, familiar just tended to be synonymous with comfort for most people. He drained his coffee cup and rose to his feet, standing stupidly tall over her when she was hunched up in her seat like that, and for a moment he hesitated before placing a hand comfortingly (he hoped) on her shoulder for a brief moment. Touch. They always said touch was important. Make them feel like they're still connected to humanity. Whatever the fuck bullshit.
None of his words processed in her brain -- all that ran through her brain was images of her parents, of her brother. There was a price to having such perfected memorization skills such as Riley's -- nothing could be forgotten. Everything would be remembered as bright as day -- ten years ago when Aidan got his first bike and crashed into the wall and oh their mum was so desperately worried and even though the bike was totalled they never threw it out for sentimental value -- all sorts of pointless, seemingly disjointed memories began to flood her brain. His touch made her jump, however, and she hopped slightly in her seat, before she softly pushed his hand off her shoulder. "Thanks," she said, the faintest trace of a desperate, false smile on her face. "For the coffee -- I appreciate it."
Well, she was clinging to something, at least, and that was... something. God. He wasn't cut out for this. Playing counsellor had never been what had attracted him to the job, the least of it, and you would have to be a twisted fuck to actually enjoy something like this. There wasn't much else he could do, not without a huge time and emotion commitment, and he was inclined towards neither of those. "No problem," he replied. Probably she just needed to sit by herself for a bit and then go home. She'd be fine, and he could go on with his life.
The bell over the door tinkled as he left the cafe, the sky darker now, and he folded his arms tightly across his body as though he were protecting himself from the cold or overly-physical relatives. Maybe if he went and hid at home, the world would just leave him alone for a while.