Who: Kenna and Drake What: An accidental meet over coffee. Where: Reliquary When: A few days ago. Warnings: None!
Kenna was installed in the back of Reliquary at one of the tables against the wall. Eli’s enthusiasm for getting people together to talk at a table notwithstanding, all she wanted was some quiet, her coffee, and the crumbling antique book she was poring over.
She had a bizarre sort of reading philosophy. There were some books she liked, true, that she read in whatever slivers of spare time she could find, but most of her reading was what she truly felt was research. Even if the things they came across in their work were generally only perceived to be supernatural by the people around them, it was still always helpful to have a supernatural explanation for the humans harmed by its effects. It was more than that, though. There was something about reading evidence of supernatural occurrences in the past, theorizing what might have caused them and how Creations could have been behind them. There were one or two she was fairly sure she could say definitively had to have been caused by Creations because of the strength of evidence, and once or twice she’d pondered writing something up on it, even though no one could ever see it. She’d thought about trying to go back to school, maybe getting a degree in cryptozoology or history with an emphasis on mythology and the supernatural, but all of that would take away from her time working on EIT, so she dismissed it yet again, pushing it off settling for just learning as much as she could, at her own pace. She’d never been much good with a structured school system anyway.
She wasn’t smoking, shocker, because she wasn’t allowed to in the shop and the day was as icy as a witch’s tit, so she was sticking with her black coffee sweetened with honey and her book. The day was cloudy and grey, and she’d shucked her coat and her scarf behind her, grateful for the close warmth of the coffee shop.
Drake didn’t really mesh very well with chain stores like Starbucks, mainly because he wasn’t a fan of coffee with names that were six words long and ordered by picky people who threw hissy fits if there wasn’t enough of this or there was too much of that; by the time they were done with it what they were drinking wasn’t even coffee anymore. It was an abomination. He also suspected that most people only went to places like Starbucks so they could be seen, sitting at a table with their MacBook and fancy coffee like it somehow made them ‘cool’. Maybe it was an unfair generalization, but he had a tendency to generalize a lot of things without a second thought.
Reliquary wasn’t exactly his usual haunt of choice either, but at least it offered quality product and he knew the owner even if they weren’t the best of friends or anything ridiculous like that. Never having been much of a reader unless it was for research purposes, he only had his coffee in hand as he surveyed the empty tables in an attempt to pick the one most strategically placed to avoid unwanted conversation with a stranger. Drake was hardly a social outcast, but he preferred to be the one to initiate conversation on his own terms instead of having it forced upon him. Most of the time he had the same consideration for other people, but familiar faces were an exception since there were a select few he saw on a fairly regular basis these days - so when he caught sight of a familiar redhead seated along the back of the shop he didn’t give much thought to whether his presence would be unwelcome or not.
He pulled up a chair without hesitation and sat, tilting his head to get a look at the book Kenna was reading before flashing a quick smile of greeting as though he hadn’t just invited himself to sit at her table. “Anything interesting?” He took a sip of coffee, raising his eyebrows questioningly.
When the chair scraped out Kenna’s head lifted quickly, startled out of concentrated reading, but she relaxed as soon as she saw him. “ ‘Documented Cases of Vampirism From the Sixteenth Century,’” she said, lifting the book, heavy and leather bound, its binding crumbling. “A little light reading. You’re already in town?” She had heard he might be settling in Seattle, same as she just had, but she hadn’t realized it had already happened. She went for the coffee in lieu of her missing cigarette, stirring the honey at the bottom before drinking.
A perfect example of why he occasionally didn’t mind reading for the sake of research. Drake didn’t believe in the supernatural, not in the sense that most did - Creations with dangerous or unstable powers wouldn’t be considered a ‘rational’ explanation by most, but they were a far cry from undead bloodsuckers or evil spirits come back for revenge - but it still made for an interesting read. It was too bad they’d never read anything like that back when he was in school, or maybe his attendance record wouldn’t have been so terrible. “Of course. You’ll have to show me what your idea of heavy reading is sometime.” It hadn’t yet crossed his mind that he didn’t mention having made the decision to actually stay in Seattle, since he wasn’t used to settling down or having anyone to tell about it. “Yeah, I figured it’s about time I give settling down a shot. Where better than here, right in the middle of the action?” The city definitely wasn’t what it had been eight years ago, back when he first crossed over - but in their line of work it meant increased business.
“It might just kill you thinking about it,” she said, sipping her coffee, voice rolling along deadpan as usual with its smoke-tinged edges. “I was talking to Eli the other day, and he said something like both of us settling down and having permanent residences had to be a harbinger of the apocalypse.”
She leaned back in her chair. Her posture wasn’t really the best - curled over a book or slumped back, in this case into a comfortable armchair, positions adopted from primarily male company and never dropped. She picked up a sugar packet from the table and stuck it inside the book as a bookmark. “”Where better is right,” she said. “There’ll be enough here to keep you busy. I’ve got a case lined up for this weekend, and someone’s supposed to be meeting with me on Monday. Plus, I mean, read the paper. We’re going to be getting plenty of work straight out of the news, the way things have been.”
He raised his eyebrows at her over the coffee mug, skimming over the subject of her reading material and barely managing to keep back a snicker at the apocalypse remark. “I’d take that as a compliment. Being a harbinger of the apocalypse sounds pretty damn cool.” There was a faint memory of Revelation or whatever it was from his teenage years, but since he’d purposely never paid much attention to anything the monks said it was easily dismissed. “‘Permanent’ is getting a little ahead of himself, though. We’ve just decided to settle. Once we make it past the six-month mark the word ‘permanent’ can start being thrown around.”
Drake had a bad habit of leaning too far back whenever he sat in a chair, something that most people would classify as ‘immature’ for someone his age yet somehow worked for him. “Yeah, I’ve been playing catch-up with the Seattle news. This place just keeps getting crazier with time.” The cops seemed to be at odds with the vigilantes, while the number of strange occurrences just kept going up - and of course the cops were keeping quiet about it. What were they supposed to say when they couldn’t even explain what was going on anymore? “So, what’s this weekend case about?”
“He said something like that too,” she mused. “Basically that it doesn’t count until we hit an anniversary. I’m keen to do it now just to prove him wrong.”
“Definitely. I’ve been here a few times in the last year, but I guess it’s not the same as living in the eye of the storm. I didn’t realize how bad it had gotten until I started talking to people on the boards.” People randomly losing their inhibitions, and then there was that whole thing where they’d shared each other’s memories, right after she moved into town. “Not sure precisely. The client seemed nervous, told me that there were odd noises in his apartment, knocking and blood dripping down the walls, classic haunted house stuff. Sounds like a fake, which is why he’s paying for a consultation before I do the inspection, not after. I’m not doing this to give people an excuse to charge money for tickets to come see their fake haunts.”
He smirked at the thought of proving Eli wrong, which sadly enough seemed like a fairly good reason to stick out living in Seattle long-term. It wasn’t like he had family or even a lot of friends to keep him in the area, unless he wasn’t aware of them yet. “So am I. Seeing the look on his face would be satisfying enough.”
The forums had proved to be more entertaining than most of what was on TV half the time, especially once he’d done a little digging on events that happened before he showed up. “I haven’t lived in too many places that had forums like that, but I guess it makes sense since we’re all Creations or whatever the hell we’re being called.” Drake was actually looking forward to experiencing some of the craziness for himself, at the very least to get a better idea of what kind of stuff went down and what it felt like. “Knocking and blood?” His attention was caught by Kenna’s description of the supposed haunting, and his skepticism was evident in his expression. “Definitely sounds like a bad horror movie. If we’re going to have our time wasted, might as well get paid for it.” Not that he wouldn’t give the guy hell if it was a fake even with payment - the money would just tone down his annoyance a little.
She smiled faintly. “Someone watched Paranormal Activities one too many times. He claims to have tape to show me.” She shrugged, draining what was left of the coffee. “He’s paying. That’s money that covers us for a pro bono case where people can’t pay and really need our help. That being the case, I’ll sit there for an hour and watch a bad home movie of the wind from an open window blowing papers off a table any day of the week.” She set the coffee aside. “You never know, though. I’ve gone into cases before with that attitude and gotten knocked on my ass, so I’ll go prepared even though it sounds like a fake. No clue what the consultation next week wants. If it’s anything interesting you’re free to tag along.” It had been a while since Kenna brought Drake along on a case. He was a little quick to act for her liking, but his instincts were generally good - it was why she’d hired him on. She did people the courtesy of not asking them what their stories were and how they’d come by their skills, and expected they’d do the same for her.
“A tape,” he repeated with clear disbelief. “Hell. At the very least it might be entertaining.” Laughing at clients wasn’t very good for business, but when they were paying beforehand and their supposed ‘haunting’ was a load of crap anyway they kind of had it coming. Of course, there always was the rare exception that Kenna pointed out. “Yeah, true. Those are the best kind of surprises,” he added dryly, regarding his near-empty coffee mug with a tilt of his head. Drake didn’t mind taking on cases for free, not when it was a legitimate problem that needed to be dealt with, but everyone needed money to survive and he was no exception. The EIT wasn’t a volunteer position or charity work for most of them - it was an actual job. “I live for the interesting ones. Thanks.” He’d spent most of his life on his own, playing by his own rules, but before that he’d gotten used to taking orders from his father; so while he found it tricky to balance his own instincts with following Kenna’s lead, most of the time he didn’t have too many problems. It helped that she was a better boss than most people had in their lifetime.
She smiled a little. “They’ll keep you on your toes, at least,” she said. “Better prepared than dead.” It was a joke, but at the same time it wasn’t - in their line of work, danger was always a distinct possibility.
She raised an eyebrow ever so slightly. “Just the interesting ones?” It was an interesting statement to make, and he might have meant it flippantly, but she couldn’t help but notice it. She wondered that about Drake on occasion. She admired his commitment to the job, but she never expected anyone else to do what she did, eschewing things like steady relationships for the work. EIT was her focus, was really all she had. It was more than enough to keep her busy, but in that way, it was something she lived for, the work they did, the helping people. Drake seemed to be framing it more in the context of the excitement or the danger itself, which was interesting in its own right.
Better prepared than dead. Drake would have laughed if it wouldn’t have been so tricky to explain why. “Wise words,” he said with a nod. It was the sort of thing his dad used to say, and the shock value of it had long since worn away. What he did now wasn’t as dangerous as other things he’d done, but it came with its fair share of risk all the same.
He seemed briefly surprised that she’d caught on to the ‘interesting’ part when most people would have passed it over without thinking much of it, but he recovered quickly. Like everyone else he had his own reasons for what he did, and admittedly not all of them were as selfless as some. Drake had spent his entire life doing one thing, the only thing he thought he knew how to do, and when it wasn’t an option anymore he’d gone looking for something else. Putting down roots, nabbing a normal job, falling into a routine; none of that was who he was. Stumbling upon the EIT had been chance but the fact that it was different appealed to him, and there was a certain level of danger and risk involved - both of which had always given him a thrill he couldn’t find anywhere else. It was an alternate way to help people than what he was used to, but most importantly it was something he was actually suited to. He was good at it. Not too admirable, but then again he never pretended to be a saint or even a good person.
The interesting ones simply had the most potential. He liked being occupied and keeping busy, and it was much more satisfying when it was by something exciting. “Any case you need me on, I’m there,” he said after a belated pause. “But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t like the exciting ones. There’s a kind of thrill to it. Boredom and I don’t work so well together.”
The carefully worded answer made her smile. "Wasn't a trick question Drake, promise." It wasn't that she thought he wouldn't come along on the boring missions, just a touch of curiosity about what exactly he was living for. "I don't think anybody likes to be bored, but boredom and danger are pretty wide extremes." She reached for her book again. "I'd be lying if I said I didn't look forward to the danger during the boredom, but during the danger I look forward to being bored again. Grass is always greener." She tapped the book. "I should finish this before I get fined for another day. Promise me that I'll get to see your miraculous new permanent apartment when you're done moving in?"
He suddenly felt a lot like a kid who’d just given a long-winded answer in class to a question that really only required a couple of words, which was strangely funny since he’d never actually been that kid when he could be bothered to attend class. “Right. ‘Course not,” he said flippantly, trying to brush off his too-careful answer. Trying to explain his near need for danger wouldn’t have been fun, and he was glad Kenna didn’t ask that particular question. Drake was usually too caught up in the adrenaline rush of danger to think about what came after, but he knew that his preference for risks probably wasn’t healthy. Oh well. “Can’t have your reputation ruined by a fine,” he nodded, smirking. “Yeah, once the boxes are gone and it starts resembling something habitable you’ll be the first to see it.” He stood with the same casual ease he’d had when he sat down, switching his empty coffee mug from one hand to the other. “Happy reading.”