- (sonrisa) wrote in doorslogs, @ 2012-09-17 21:24:00 |
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Entry tags: | harley quinn, renly baratheon |
Who: Bailey Tierney & Alexis Kron
What: A reunion
Where: The Wynn
When: Backdated: Early August, 2012
Warnings/Rating: None, really.
Some clock somewhere in the city was tolling the hour. He could hear it over the din of the hotel. It was one. On the dot. Smiling to himself as passed by the casino, its bright lights and sad, glassy-eyed men and women slumped over slot machines, Alexis pinched out the tip of his still-warm, half-burnt cigarette. Replacing it in his pants pocket, he ran a hand over his slicked back hair. In comparison to the Wynn’s normal polo-clad guest, the man cut a strange figure indeed. He’d covered his thin form in an old t-shirt with some silly, faded graphic, the sleeves cut off and ends fraying, and a pair of tight, holey grey jeans. A sheen of sweat covered him from head to foot - the walk had been brisk (he couldn’t risk being late, after all), and he had been involved in some very physical work beforehand. As he turned the corner toward the villas, Alexis pulled out both his personal phone and his work cell from his pants pocket to turn them both on vibrate. He ignored the messages that had piled up on their tiny screens. Bailey was excited to see Alexis again. She’d missed him quite a bit over the past few months but she’d distanced herself from most of her friends when Harley had appeared in her head. Nikolai had quickly taken over what free time she had between working and going through the door and that was just that. It was hard to believe that it had been almost five months already since Harley had shown up, which meant it had been at least four and half since she’d seen Lex last. Considering they’d been neighbors for nearly three years, not to mention the fact that she’d been a third for him on multiple occasions, four and a half months was an eternity. As much as she liked Jules, and she realized she hadn’t spoken to him in a while either, Alexis was probably the closest thing she had to a best friend and he had certainly been one of the few constants in her life. She woke up early that morning and shooed Nikolai out of the villa so she could get ready. Bailey actually wanted to impress Alexis, even though it would only give him reason to make fun of her. Dressed in a grey oversized sweater dress, she was more herself than she’d ever been before she met Nikolai. The villa itself was clean because the maid service had come in the day before, but she took it upon herself to attempt to make cookies. Her effort left her with bits of cookie dough stuck to her fingers and flour in her pale blonde hair, but she wasn’t too concerned about any of that when she heard the knock on her door. It took her barely any time at all to pull the door open and launch herself at Alexis. Part of her did it only to throw him off balance, but truly she was glad to see him and she was glad to finally be able to talk to her best friend. After a few long moments, Bailey pulled back and smirked. “Still the same as ever,” she tsked teasingly. She was right. He was still the same as ever. Little had changed in Alexis’ life in the past seven years he’d been in the city. Things did change of course, but not much. Bailey’s own move, from Avenue 8 to the Wynn, was one of the few things to cause something of a blip. It had been an adjustment to go from seeing each other every day - in a myriad of situations, personal and professional - to not at all. It had to have been at least four months. It wasn’t even that he was especially busy or that he didn’t especially want to see Bailey. Alexis just happened to be terrible at keeping in contact with people, despite the two cellphones in his pocket. It was much more his nature to receive calls, than to place them. Still he was glad he had run into Bailey over the... whatever it was - app. Seeing her reminded him how much he missed her. As her arms closed around him, he returned the hug, after being forced backward a good half a foot from the force of her embrace. He smiled as she drew back and gave her a shrug. “You, on the other hand, are different.” Speaking in his usual low, cool tone, the man quirked a brow. His eyes moved from the white puff of flour in Bailey’s hair to her decidedly happy face to the remarkably clean villa the open door revealed behind her. He thought he smelled cookies baking, too. It was all so... domestic. “Am I to call you Mrs. Putin now?” And there he went. She wondered just how long it was going to take for him to run out of names for Nikolai. The question made her remember the memory she’d gotten of his with his father, where he suggested marriage at some point. She wasn’t the type to marry, especially with someone as volatile as Harley Quinn in her head, but if she did...well, she could see herself with Nikolai. “Not even close,” she replied, dragging him inside with an eyeroll. “It’s weird enough that I’m monogamous. Let me adjust to one thing at a time, and I still haven’t really gotten past the insane asylum in my head.” Maybe she was adjusting, because there was no way she should have been so calm discussing Harley. That’s the nicest thing you’ve said about me shnookums, Harley piped up, and Bailey had to just shake her head. The door shut behind them and she pulled him into the kitchen, which was just next to the door and went to the fridge, immediately pulling out two beers. “Shut up about the cookies,” she warned, even though he hadn’t said anything about them specifically just yet. She knew him well enough to know that it would be the next thing out of his mouth, either before or after he started drinking. The dark beer wasn’t her favorite, but she knew it was his favorite. For as much as she might gripe or complain, Bailey really did want him to be happy for her. “Alright, come on. Tell me about your headcase and I’ll fill you in on mine. Hundred bucks says I’ve got you beat.” Allowing himself to be shown in, he smiled benignly down at his friend as she rolled her eyes. The villa was spacious and open, artfully decorated, and, as noted before, surprisingly spotless. Altogether unlike Bailey’s previous home, as he remembered it. The Avenue 8 Studios were nice, considering their price, and had plenty of natural light, wood flooring, &c., but they didn’t compare to the Wynn. How could they? Fords are nice enough cars, but they don’t quite stack up next to a Porsche. His glimpse of the villa was cut short as Bailey continued her unorthodox tour and dragged him into the kitchen. “Monogamous,” he repeated slowly. “I can’t even imagine.” Alexis stood to the side, leaning against the island in the middle of the room as Bay fetched up a pair of beers from the fridge. It was warm in the kitchen, and the scent of freshly baked cookies pervaded the entire space, filling up every nook, cranny, and crack. It was lovely, but reminded Alexis a little too much of his mother’s kitchen. He offered his friend a sly smile at her preemptive ‘shut up’ and accepted the cold bottle of beer with a small thanks. In a smooth motion, he plucked a cheap, pink lighter from his front pocket and had the cap off of the beer bottle in a manner of seconds. Alexis put the lighter away and set the serrated little cap on the island between himself and Bailey. After a healthy slug and the back of a hand across his lips, he smiled again, fixing his friend with a long look. “Got me beat on what count?” He arched a brow at the woman, and held out his hand, in case she wanted him to open her beer bottle. She seemed happy, if domestic. “I doubt yours is gayer than mine.” “Unfathomable to you, I know,” Bailey teased warmly. “I still can’t believe it most days but...” she shrugged. “I’m not questioning it too closely. I guess that’s the trick.” She grinned as he uncapped the bottle in such a smooth motion. Everything he did was fluid and graceful it seemed and she was jealous of that. It had taken quite a bit of practice to be just as graceful in high heels and short skirts but the end result was sexy in its own right. Sure, everyone seemed to criticize her heavy eye makeup, but that was the look she’d chosen as a teenager and it certainly didn’t stop her from finding someone in her bed whenever she wanted. So they could all just suck it, as far as she was concerned. She handed over the bottle easily instead of searching for a bottle opener. Bay propped her arms up on the counter and leaned forward, replying, “On the crazy count.” She smirked and added, “She’s got a thing for Poison Ivy actually, but she’s not immune to poisons like she is in some other versions.” Harley didn’t like that and Bailey glared, though it was really Harley glaring. Bailey blinked once she was back in the driver’s seat and then shook her head slightly. She’d never get used to the little moments. “I’ve got Harley Quinn in my head, from DC Comics. Joker’s girlfriend?” Harley didn’t like that either, but it seemed her response was to just withdraw from the conversation completely. “She’s...dangerous. I don’t know about yours, but Harley just takes over whenever she wants. It’s...unnerving.” Alexis uncapped Bailey’s beer as he had his own, then handed the bottle back. The fluid quality of his movements only adding to his languid demeanor. He almost always gave off the impression of amused apathy, and was the epitome of understatement. It wasn’t something he had perfected - it was just how he was. Bailey’s balance in towering heels was much better than his own, however. But the times the man was openly confused, or showing any manner of strong emotion, were few and far between. It didn’t look like he was the paranoid gambler, playing his cards close to his chest - it looked natural and graceful, reserved. It served him well in his line of work. There was a split second glare on Bailey’s face that was somewhat disconcerting, but Alexis let it slide. He simply continued to sip his beer and stand, listening to her as she spoke about her headmate. Harley Quinn. He knew who that was, even if the knowledge was cursory. Of course, his own cartoon/comic consumption was limited, as his parents had been rather strict about the media their children were exposed to. Still he knew Harley Quinn to be the somewhat unbalanced girlfriend of the Joker’s, who wore black lipstick and a motley getup. “You win that round,” conceded the man with a small smile and a shrug. “But I’m glad for it. - So far mine has made no move to control me. We’re both trying to acclimate, more than anything.” “Thanks,” she said, taking the beer back, though she didn’t take a sip. It had been a while since she’d last had beer just because they tended to drink the harder stuff whenever she was drinking with Nikolai. It was always fun trying to match each other because they both had such high tolerances. Seeing Lex again was starting to make her realize just how much she’d wrapped herself up in Nikolai. Harley took up the majority of her free time but she still had a life outside of all that. Didn’t she? That was something she was going to have to work on when she had the time. “Hopefully whoever it is wont try. I can’t do much without her knowing,” Bailey admitted, tapping her temple. “She’s gone now. Guess I pissed her off, but it doesn’t happen often.” She shrugged, all too used to it by now. Finally, she took a sip of her beer and moved around the counter to sit next to him. “Whatever. It was more a just so you know cause she might try to kill you. More likely she’ll threaten you to get me to do what she wants.” All of it was said with such nonchalance that even she could believe that Harley wasn’t someone to be worried about. “How’ve you been? Not getting into too much trouble? Or rather...the bad kind of trouble,” she teased. It was interesting to learn about the varying relationships others had with their voices or whatever they were. Alexis vaguely wondered what Bailey meant by Harley being 'gone,' but again, chose not to pursue it. He raised his eyebrows politely at the mention that the crazy cartoon clown might try to kill him and took a drink of his beer. Perhaps he was lucky in having Renly. It definitely could be much worse. "Thank you." The man nodded coolly, as if conversations such as this were as mundane as chatting about the weather. At the very least it was nice to have a warning that his death was imminent, he supposed. "I'm never in the bad kind of trouble, love. I am nothing if not angelic." Of course Alexis had had his brushes with the law. He'd been arrested. He'd had to stay a few nights in an uncomfortable room with twenty strangers (nothing new there). But he always got off. The LVPD had bigger fish to fry, for which he was quite glad. That said, the past few months he hadn't seen Bailey had been uneventful. "I'm fine. But I'm not the one who moved in with her Russian boyfriend, so." He shrugged. At least he didn’t bolt for the door. Not that she expected him to, because that wasn’t really Alexis’ style, but Harley had taught her to be somewhat afraid of how people would react to this insane situation. Maybe she should’ve talked to him earlier, but there was no point in thinking about it now. It wasn’t like she could go back in time. Should’ve, could’ve, would’ve wasn’t really her style. That wasn’t about to change now. “Uh huh. How many times have you been arrested in the past four months? My guess is...” She considered as she took a sip of her beer. “Four?” There was a teasing tone to her voice, but then there usually was where he was concerned. She’d lost some of that over the past month and a half but maybe he was just what she needed to snap back to reality. Of course, he turned the conversation right back around to her and she just rolled her eyes. “This really has you stumped, doesn’t it? It’s fantastic sex, he’s amazing, and have you seen this place? It’s fucking perfect. You should’ve been here for my birthday. He basically rented out the entire hotel and the whole day was just one big party. Did I mention the sex? He doesn’t ask questions, doesn’t pry. He’s one of the few good things in my life, sad as that might be.” Bailey took another sip from her beer before turning it back to him. “Anyone else you know got one of these voices? And we’re going out soon. Not tonight because I’ve got to get over to the hotel, but when I get back, we’ll go out. It’s not optional either.” “It’s not sad,” said Alexis in an even tone, looking placidly at his friend over the top of his beer bottle. After taking another swallow, he managed another cool smile. The domestic life was mysterious to the man. But he had no desire to decode it. No part of him wanted a relationship like the one Bailey was describing, though it was likely just fine for her and most others. Alexis enjoyed the sex he had, most of the time, and developed friendships with or a fondness for certain customers, but the inclination to date - to delve deeper into any one person - never hit him. “That sounds nice.” He decided he wouldn’t pry any further about his friend’s Russian ...benefactor, and instead, raised his eyebrows at her estimate of the trouble he’d gotten up to. The man merely shook his head. He actually hadn’t been arrested in recent months, but that was hardly interesting information. That topic was passed on, as well. “No, I don’t think so. Just you so far.” The whole having-another-person-in-your-head thing was still novel to Alexis. He spent much of his time on the newly appeared app, just reading in on others’ conversations, trying to glean information on what exactly was happening - what it all meant. Truth be told, however, the man was likely one of the better choices for a fictional character to take up residence in. There wasn’t much that phased him - nor much that he held in contempt or felt particularly strongly about. There had been a moment or two of silence as he stood and thought. Alexis cocked his head to the side, surveying Bailey once again over the rim of his drink. “I’m not paying you to give me orders,” he said with a grin. It was downright pathetic for who she’d been with Alexis. How many times had she seen couples in love and went “Pft. Not for me. Fuck that.”? Every goddamn time. One man changed all of that and Harley was giving her every reason to take it back. Seeing Alexis again made her miss her old life a little bit but she couldn’t give up Nikolai. He was everything now and if she screwed that up, what was left? Bailey frowned and upended her bottle, drinking half of it in one go to try and stop her train of thought. Melancholy didn’t suit her. “Just me? How lucky. Everyone on the journals has someone locked in their head. Just be careful who you go spouting yours out to. Whatever happens over there, it’ll carry over here. And if they don’t want you over there, who’s to say they won't confine you over here?” Maybe it was cynical of her to think so, but it was also practical. He changed directions pretty quick though and Bailey grinned. “You’re paying me now? Well hot damn. I live to serve,” she mocked, curtseying in the most obnoxious way she could handle. She finished off her beer and grabbed her purse. “Come on, my liege. I could do with an escort and you’re just the man for the job.” Boy had she missed him. Alexis, his eyes downcast as he listened to Bailey's advice, set his nearly empty bottle of beer on the countertop. He had spent a good amount of time simply watching the little entries that appeared on the app - enough to eventually have figured out everyone was suffering the same fate as him. It was an easy enough theme to pick up on, after all. Still, no other names had really stood out, as of yet. The man shifted on his feet, finally smiling again when Bailey dropped an overblown curtsey. "Don't tempt me," he said in response to her mention of 'living to serve.' Those were dangerous words, after all. Alexis was a bit surprised at his friend's sudden movement - she fetched up her purse, but he regained his composure quickly enough. Apparently, they were going somewhere. He could do that easily enough. Alexis looped his arm through Bailey's. "Lead the way." |