WHO: Wrath and Jacob Grimm talking to Lewis Carroll. WHAT: Overhearing vital information about certain dead angels WHEN: Friday afternoon WHERE: Diogenes Club NOTES: Welcome to the ONE character in my head atm, goddammit. :|
The idea of a place that was reserved only for immortals like her seemed like a strange idea, but Wrath was willing to believe it existed. Hell, Patrick had said so and he hadn't lied so far. If he ever did, Patrick would be well aware Wrath might rip his hair out anyway, so she had reason to believe he was telling the truth.
She had the address written down on a crinkled up sheet of paper in the pocket of her new and very expensive jeans she had purchased with the help of her sisters. Sure she had gotten some fancy clothes too, but she was still Wrath and she still loved to dress down. And least now she was doing it in a designer brand.
The address was hard to read, but Wrath knew from half a block away that she had found the right spot. If she had passed it without knowing it was there she would have been drawn in. The place felt immortal. It just radiated energy.
She passed through the front of the building which Patrick had informed her was for mortals as well. Past the bar was a man standing in front of a door that read 'Members Only'. It was the door to the immortals' section and she knew there would be someone guarding the way who could sense whether or not she belonged.
She passed through the door without hassle and ordered a drink. It was midday and a few people were gathered for lunchtime drinks. Wrath just wanted a quiet place to sit where she wasn't surrounded by humans. She wasn't used to spending so much time around them when she had to play nice. Having a job was a pain in the ass. Here, she could say she was Wrath and likely people would back the fuck off.
She sat down behind an occupied table and sipped her Jack and Coke. On the other side of the booth from her, a lively conversation was going in which she inadvertently caught snippets of.
"-Clio wants to travel which I think is really wonderful, actually. I hope she gets the chance."
"Travel does give one an opportunity to clear away the everyday things and knuckle down-"
Wrath sniffed and leaned in to her drink, trying to block out the conversation she didn't really want to hear. The two men sounded so cheerful and friendly and she really just wanted to scream that they were boring and unimportant, but she didn't think George would like that.
"-city is so full of stories. I loved living in Chicago though. It's different everywhere."
"You're absolutely right, Charles. I have been settled here for awhile, but I do take the opportunity to get out when I can. There are so many stories out there. What I really love is travelling South. The mythology is so rich and layered."
"Yes!" The reply was so cheerful Wrath had to ball her hands into fists and sit on them to keep from turning around and throwing her drink in the excited man's face.
"-story about the centre of the States?"
"No! Tell me a story, Mister Grimm."
The man laughed and then he started in. "I heard that there's a place in Lebanon, Kansas which is said to be the very centre of the United States. There's a park and a tiny, mobile church but not much else. It should be a tourist draw, but it isn't really. It's just out there in the middle of nothing. Now those of us who had strayed there say there's a good reason for that. The place just feels off, you see? And they also say people like us...gods and goddesses and monsters alike, all of us lose our powers when we stray into the very centre."
The other man whistled and then he said, "how true do you think that is?"
"I have never been brave enough to find out! If you want to try, be my guess, Charles! Report back! Not being actual creatures of myth, I worried it would be...troublesome for us. A god...say, Zeus...could go there and find himself stripped of the power to wield his lightning bolts. He would be absolutely mortal. Now my theory is that the only real power you or I possess is the power to simply still be. We died centuries ago now, and yet here we are. Inexplicable. If we ventured into that centre, would we cease to be? And what if, once we ventured in, we couldn't venture out again. What if we stayed dead? Unlikely, sure, but just as possible ans anything else-"
Wrath stood up so suddenly that her drink topped and slid off the table, crashing to the floor. The bar was silenced and she turned bright red and then the colour drained from her face until she was staring at them all, stark white.
"Oh fuck me," she hissed, and then glared at the starers. "Not you assholes, you can fuck yourselves." And then she ran for the door and didn't return to work. She went home.