Herakles (dontcallmeherc) wrote in olympian_rewind, @ 2009-08-29 08:52:00 |
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Entry tags: | alana kellings, gregory lyon, herakles, trystan jube, zeus |
Who: Herk, Alana, and then Alana and Zeus.
What: Wait, betting pool?
Where: The hotel
When: BACKDATED Aug 18th-ish
Warnings: none
While the Jube Hotel chain was now a vast-reaching and ever popular business, with hundreds of people from all over the world coming in and out of their doors, there was still such a thing as 'down time'. Even in Miami.
And it was boring as the pits of Hades. Well, parts of it anyway.
"When you said golden apples, I thought you were serious," Greg said, leaning over Alana's desk, fruit in his palm. Funny, he remembered apples being... smaller. But, then, up until recently, his hands had been bigger. But in any case, he was clearly disappointed in the food item. "These are yellow."
"Clearly, you don't know apples very well." Alana grabbed the apple from his hand and began to toss it back and forth between her own, then paused to hold it like it was a great treasure. "This, is a Golden Delicious. Not to be confused with Red Delicious. And thus, is a golden apple." She smirked and took a bite out of it, chewing only a small amount before speaking again. "They're softer than some of the other types. Not tart, like the Granny Smith either."
The god-hero shook his head. "I've seen real golden apples. Ate them, too! Damn tasty..." He paused to take a bite out of the apple Alana had handed him, and added, "Mmm. These are good, though. Needs peanut butter."
She rolled her eyes. "Can't you just eat an apple and enjoy it as an apple? There's enough fucking varieties that I'm sure ya can find one that doesn't appear ta need anything else with it." She took another bite of her own apple again.
He flicked a finger at her shoulder teasingly, and stuck his tongue out for good measure. No one said just 'cause you were a fabled hero of immeasurable strength and wits meant you had to be an adult. "I like apples! I lived in a day and age where peanut butter didn't even exist." Pause, bite, chew. "I just like to take advantage of genius inventions." Mmm. But talking about peanut butter reminded him of food, which made him even more hungry. Gah! To get off the subject, "So you have no idea who left 'em?"
"No one's taken the credit for it. I figure it's one of my neighbors. The couple 'cross the street from me is the type ta do it. Brought me over a bottle of wine when I first moved in and everything." She shrugged, examining the apple in her hand. "Who knows? Maybe I just happened ta have a secret admirer." Alana snorted after the phrase. Right. She doubted there was anyone making a secret of it if they had attentions toward her.
Admirer? Yes. Not so secret? No. Even just the faint redness in his cheeks gave him away. "I can promise they weren't from me," he said. "Didn't even know ya liked apples." The thought gave him pause, though. Could there be someone? Well, apples were kind of a silly courting gift.
...But, then, not all ladies got dogs from men who liked them.
He thought on it, a little resentfully, and chewed on his apple some more. It was considerably less sweet.
Her eyebrows went up as she watched his face, before reaching forward to give him a pat as if to be comforting. "They're apples, Giant. Not gold coins. I'd almost guarantee you that they just came from a neighbor. Or Tannia, trying ta fuck with my head." She paused and considered that for a moment, then pulled out her phone to send off a quick message. It was just the kind of stunt that Tannia would pull, with much giggling along the way.
Greg blinked down at her in momentary confusion before her words dawned on him. "Am I that obvious?"
"You have admitted as much quite bluntly, if you recall," she pointed out as she sent the message, before putting the phone away and reaching back for her apple and another bite. After a moment of though, she pulled out her Leatherman tool, freed the sharp knife blade, wiped it off, and cut off the next slice.
Hm, that left a rather awkward silence. He blinked at her again and, after a moment of consideration, said, "Hey, how would you like to go--"
"Mr. Lyon, we have a situation on floor number six!" called a teeny voice from the aparatus on his belt. In swift action, he picked up the walky-talky and pressed down the button as he asked, "What's going on?"
"We have a disruptive customer, I think he found out about the 'free' part of the mini-bar."
Oh, joy. "I'll be right there," he said and tucked the talky back into its notch. "Wanna come along?"
"You're seriously asking?" she questioned as she already started to move, pushing the chair back and standing to join him. She licked the blade free of juices before folding it up and sticking it away. She'd wash it off later.
A small shiver went up Herakles' spine. Sexy. But women aside, there was a job to do! Putting on his oh-so-official security cap, he walked with purpose towards the stairs. Elevators took too long. And before much time had passed, he was on the floor. The hallway was empty. Probably 'cause of the man standing around in his pineapple-covered boxers and "I'M WITH STUPID" T-shirt with a heavy wine bottle in hand, all the while swaying harder than a boat at high tide.
Herakles wrinkled his nose. Oh yeah. He'd found the mini-bar. "Sir, are you a guest?"
"Oh yeah, I'm a-a guesth," the man laughed. "So is this gal." He pointed to the bottle.
Alana's eyebrows rose at the sight of the guy, and she hooked her thumbs in the pockets of her pants. Note to self, see that the Old Man gets this on the security cameras. She didn't smile though, and kept an eye on other things around them. Hopefully it was just the one guy, and not a group of them, hiding behind some near by door.
---
Off somewhere in the hotel, an old, old man was having a good hard laugh.
Oh yes. Everything was on tape.
Everything.
---
"Now, fellah, could I ask you to return to your room?" asked Greg, taking a small step forward, and then another when the man didn't react. "I'm afraid you're disrupin' the other--"
He ducked swiftly as the bottle went flying past his head and into the wall. Ooh. For a fat drunk man, he actually had great aim.
Alana ducked as well when the bottle went flying, then shifted to take the other side of the way. Divide and conquer, right? She shook her head. "What a waste of wine. You got anything else good left?" she asked, actually sounding slightly serious. She'd blame D for that if anyone asked.
While the old gaffer guffawed, Greg rolled his eyes at him and moved forward. Really moved. "Please be calm, sir," he said as nonchalantly as possible as he managed to grip him by one hand, twisting it ever so gently behind his back with the other hand on his shoulders. Now the drunkard had about as much chance of getting away or hitting anyone as he had a chance to learn to fly. "What's your room number, sir, and I'll escort you back--"
"GET YER HANDS OFF MAH MAN, BOY."
And before he knew it, he was being beaten with... what felt alot like a rolling pin. Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow...
Immediately the mortal woman was coming to the god's aid. She'd been on the watch for others, and while she hadn't been close enough to stop the attack, she was close enough to rather quickly get a move in, slamming a fist into the attacking man's side. The surpise on his face was clear when he turned to notice the woman, who barely paused in grabbing his weapon away, and preparing to kick him where it'd count the most. "Back off, or we'll have you both arrested for assault." Time to call the cops? Yes, that would be the best plan...
Pfft. Cops. Greg gave Alana a smile before glancing back to his new friend. "If you don't cooperate, I'm afraid I'll have to call the police," he informed him. "Would you like to cooperate?"
Perhaps sobered by seeing his friend floored by a woman, the original drinker nodded hard. "Yes yes yes."
Greg nodded and released him. "Room number?"
"Uh... Sixty two. S-sorry, suh," he said, tripping over himself a bit to retreat back into his room. Restraining the urge to laugh, Greg nodded to Alana to let the other fellow go.
Seriously? They were going to let that stand? The look she gave Greg made it clear that she was expecting something more to be done. There would be damages, and reputations... But she backed off, giving space for them to go back into the room.
Watching the second man scurry back in the room, closing and locking the door behind him, Greg let loose with his laugh then. "Well. That was new."
"For you maybe. Makes me wish the only easy access booze was in the bar. Let someone at least keep an eye on 'em..." Grabbing her own radio, she called down to the front desk. "Situation on Floor Six has been handled, but let me know if there are any further reports of disturbance." The desk said they would, and Alana clipped her radio away. She stretched, and started to head back toward the stairs, now grinning as she glanced back toward Greg. "Though it was somethin' different."
He smiled, a bit relieved. Maybe she hadn't heard his rather sudden question. Probably way too early and abrupt anyway...
Whatever they had been talking about before was out of her mind. Mentally, Alana was tallying the possible damages in the room, and how she'd add it to their bill with an alert to contact her if the argued the costs. Most wouldn't be known until they checked out. Harsh. "Hey, ya wanna let house keeping or maintenance know about that broken glass? See if we can get it cleaned before we get sued."
"There's a broom closet round here somewhere..." He started to head for it but not at a more distracted pace. But, well, her friend had said that two-by-four comment. And it'd been weeks now! Months even. It wasn't as if he was diving in again...
Turning around on his heel, he looked down at her, and the one word stuck in his head popped out: "Dinner?"
She blinked, then glanced at her watch. "I think it's a bit early yet. You hungry already?"
"Yes," he replied before realizing it. Er. "Wait. I mean, yeah, but that's not what I meant."
"Okay... then what'd you mean?" Becuase he was not making much sense to her at the moment. She continued moving toward the closet, realizing what it was he intended to do.
"I mean... you know, dinner. Would you wanna go sometime?" He asked, sticking his hands down into his pockets as he waited for a reply. "Ain't gotta be nothing... fancy or whatever. But, you know."
"Sometime?" Wait, what? Alana had confusion, but it quickly went away as she realized what he meant. Well, what she thought he meant. She wasn't fully sure. "We've had meals together before, Giant. I don't think it's somethin' that takes massive planning."
"... I mean in more of a date kinda thing," he clarified with a clearing of this throat.
Nope. It meant what she thought it meant. And somehow, she managed to not instinctively cringe. It had little to do with the person asking, more to do with the idea of going on a date. So she stalled. Going to the closet and opening it up, she began to search for a few things that would make cleaning up glass easiest. Vacuum would be good. Bucket for the big shards. Jokingly, she grinned at him. "You really wanna feed inta those rumor mills? Far as some of the staff is concerned I'm already in you and Jube's bed. Sometimes at the same time even."
"Haven't heard that one," he admitted, taking the vacuum and unraveling its cord. "But people talk anyway. Might as well give them something to talk about?"
"I'd rather give 'em the rumor of holding a knife on someone, personally." Her personal life was her personal life. Why would she want to go flashing that around? She grabbed a pair of tongs with the bucket and went to grab the bigger pieces of glass.
"Ah." Greg said nothing else as he went about plugging in the vacuum, using it to vacuum up any smaller pieces that escaped the tongs. But once they were done and there was nothing else to distract themselves with... "So that's a no, then?"
Alana used the time of cleaning everything up to consider. Did she really want to go on a date? With someone she worked with? She was silent for a moment or two after his question, then ran a hand through her hair before looking at him. "It can be a 'sure', but on one condition."
"Name it."
"No expectations." He knew she wasn't thrilled on the idea of dating anyone. The condition should really be a no brainer.
"Ah." He knew that, but decided he wanted a bit of clarification. Herakles lived by the rules he had to set himself by -- when you could bench press people, they were more than a requirement -- so he asked, "And what would expectations be?"
"Just short of everything. You can expect me ta be more normal self, but even if we do call it a date, I wouldn't expect it to feel like a date." And if that didn't make sense to him, it did to Alana. Dates you expected kisses at the end and flirting and hand holding. Or, whatever it was most did on the first date. She didn't count herself an expect by any stretch.
He nodded, hoping he understood what she meant. "Okay. I promise. Anywhere you wanna go in particular? Or time?"
She shrugged, heading back toward the stairs so she could get back to her desk, mostly expecting him to follow. "Not really. Schedule is fairly open."
"Hm," he said aloud to himself, following along behind since he didn't really have a desk to return to. "Well, how about Friday then?"
A mental check that there weren't any plans currently in place and up the stairs she started. "Works for me. Gonna pick me up from home and everything?" she teased.
Herk blinked at her, not catching on the sarcasm. Was she joking? Wait, did that fit in the 'expectations' bit? Aw shit. "Well, yeah, that's what I'm supposed to do."
"Works for me. What times ya wanna shoot for?" Hey, one car was easier to take and park then two. She wondered if she should invite him to bring his dog over to keep Pirate company as well or not. The two didn't cause too much damage together.
Sounded like a job for Doggysitter.
"Well, how about eight-ish. That'll give us enough time if we wanna go anywhere else and still get back home before it gets too late," he suggested. "That just leaves the place. I know a pretty good Chinese place, open buffet and stuff?"
Thankfully she was going up the stairs, taking her time, and could hope he wouldn't catch the face she made. Open buffet Chinese just didn't sound right to her. "Got a second choice?"
Think think think. "Well. There's a Taco Bell down the street from my house. An Olive Garden near here. And there's always the restaurant here."
"Alright, no Taco Bell. If we wanted to do that we could just stay in with a movie and make the food ourselves. Olive Garden would work." She was not coming back to work for dinner unless it was because he boss was covering the bill.
"Olive Garden and back home for a movie?" Sounded good. And hey, he could possibly get her to go to his house, in a date type situation, without her thinking he was going to pounce her like a hound. Progress!
"Works for me. Not like I gotta anywhere ta go the next mornin'." She smirked as they reached the floor of the meeting halls and her desk, with the boss's double doors just by it. The set up alone made her feel like a glorified secretary. Which she was. Didn't mean she liked the image.
"Kay. Well--"
"Mister Lyon, could you come help us out, we got some teenagers in the pool again," declared the walky-talky on the belt pleadingly.
"Again?"
"Again."
He sighed a bit but in an amused tone. "Okay, I'm gonna go take care of this. But, I'll come back later, if ya like," he offered, "keep ya company?"
"Long as the boss doesn't think you're keeping me from actual work," she smiled. "And be good on the teens. Not like swimmin' is against the rules."
"Says the gal who slams around old drunk men!" teased Herk but he'd already turned around and started down the hall. That way, if she threw anything, it'd only hit his back and not his face. See, he was learning.
She stuck out her tongue at him and headed for her desk, poking through the papers and picking up the earlier dismissed apple to finish it off. Glancing at one of the pages, she sighed, and went to the double doors, giving them a brief knock in warning before turning the handle and stepping inside.
The office was empty, though the lights were on. The window was open behind the desk, making the curtains sail in the light breeze and the stacks upon stacks of papers on his desk rustle.
Staying near the door, Alana's eyes shifted about to do a quick scan of the place before walking toward the window. "Hey, boss, you about?" She carefully kept an eye out as she neared, making sure she wasn't about to trip over some ichor dripping covered body.
A hand suddenly landed on her shoulder. Thankfully, though, it was still attached to the arm it belonged to.
"So, thirty dollars is the stake if you send him off after dinner without a kiss," said Zeus with a slightly amused grin on his face. Wait, not even slightly. It was completely amused. "But William in housecare is willing to bet forty that Greg wins you over."
Alana managed to not completely jump at the sudden contact on her shoulder, and twisted to look at her boss, casting him a brief glare for the offense of trying to surprise her before he started to speak. It only made her roll her eyes though. "For fuck's sake, why does anyone if give a shit? And how'd they find out so quick? Did someone broadcast it over the radios when I wasn't listenin'?" And why only forty bucks? Clearly they had more faith in her being a cold hearted bitch. Good to know.
Because Zeus was stingy with his money unless it related to important matters -- at least important to him -- and William was... well, a maid. "Because everyone loves a good romance," he replied, moving around her to go sit back down in his chair. "And the two of you are as easy to read as a neon hotel sign at midnight."
She glared at him. How could they be that easy to read? "You mean Greg's that easy to read. I see him as a friend, as anyone who's act'ly payin' attention would know. And speakin' of payin' attention, what's the deal with you lately?" Deflect? More like, distract.
"I mean you both," he said calmly, but her last question made him tilt his head curiously. "Oh?"
She decided to let the comment go for now. She'd find out what he meant later. "I thought you were payin' me pretty pennies because I could be a confidant if ya needed one. Somethin's been off lately, but you haven't been bugging me to earn all those pretty pennies."
"Some things even a confidante should not know."
Alana arched an eyebrow at him. Oh really now? "Isn't that the point of havin' one?"
"Ah, but sometimes, it's for their own good," said Zeus and he looked down to some papers, reaching over for a pen. Clearly that part of the conversation was over. "He's going to be paying for dinner, right? I pay you a good amount, but not that good."
"Since ya seem ta have such a vested interest in it, why don't you pay? Or take up a pool for the 'help Greg get a date' fund," she mentioned, dropping the papers she had in her hands back onto his desk. "Might wanna take another look at those papers before I act'ly process them. Since you haven't been tellin' me whatever the fuck is goin' on, I'm gonna have ta assume you didn't suddenly think that servin' rum with the hotel breakfast is a good idea. Case you couldn't guess from some of the misspellings, Giggles is the one who drafted that breakfast proposal."
"Who the hell nicknamed my chef 'Giggles'," the god grumbled as he put on his glasses and looked the papers over. "Why haven't I fired him yet. And wouldn't that be 'help Alana get a date' fund? I've never seen him have a problem picking up women. Or men."
"And yet, he seems stuck on the idea of takin' me out. And for the record, I don't have any trouble, just no interest." She watched him for a moment, wondering for the thousandth time why he bothered with glasses. She didn't have them. There were many people who didn't. He wasn't Clark Kent. "And have you heard him? The nick name almost came tattooed to his forehead."
It was all about image, really. "Have you ever considered that he may actually like you?" Zeus asked without looking up from the text, using a big red pen to cross things out. And clearly he didn't mean the cook.
"I know he does. Had a talk 'bout it and everythin'." Grabbing one of his desk ornaments, she examined it to have something to do with her hands, then set it back down. "But if you ain't sharing your personal life with me, no reason for me to share it with you. I got work." She turned to start heading back to her desk.
Zues considered that. And, quite calmly said, "I'm fairly sure someone wants to kill me, and in the near future." Ta-da.
That brought Alana to a stop, turning to look at him, as if questioning if he was serious.
The god stared up at her with a completely serious expression. No joke.
"Why?" Why do you think that, and why would they want to. She wasn't sure which why she wanted to know more.
"A number of different reasons," he said. "Most of which I am not at liberty to say." His eyes strayed around the room, as if looking for something. Hephaestus had begun his de-bugging of the hotel, starting with the office, but... "But simply to say, they do not like me, and I do not like them. And this is not our first meeting."
"Just means I get ta be more stingy 'bout who I let near your office," she mentioned, shrugging before she hooked her thumbs in her pockets. Not like there was anything she could really do to help. She wasn't a body guard. "Anything I can do ta help?"
"Doubtful. They're powerful, technologically-advanced, and appear to be doing it in the name of the greater good. Meaning, they're foolish and dangerous."
"The foolish often are dangerous. Ya can't predict them. I don't see the greater good though. Unless they got somethin' against hotels..." Tech advanced? Didn't he have a son that was better than them for those kinds of things?
"Immortals," he corrected, waving the pen in her direction. It gave him the appearance of a principal of sorts.
Her eyebrows went up slightly. What was she? A high schooler? There was no way she was voicing that thought aloud though. He'd enjoy the imagery too much. "Why don't they attack God and the church then?"
"No idea yet. Perhaps they only seek to strike when they have a greater chance of not being struck where they stand." In short, cowards, in Zeus' opinion.
"Stupid. Strike big, get the rest to cower under ya, go after those who don't conform. Best way to fight back is let all know what's goin' on so they can't sneak 'bout and turn people against one another and so ya can mass forces bigger than theirs." Right? Right. Well, sounded right. At least to Alana. It was probably something best said to Athena though.
"Only it is not that simple. It was in the past, but not anymore. Now gods are limited, and humans have technology," he said somberly. "And there are more dangers to both sides. But don't fret. I will handle it."
"That might be the part that makes me fret..." Great. People going after the gods. Because people going after other people wasn't screwed up enough. "Let me know if there's anythin' I can do, or anythin' I should be on the watch for." She turned to start heading back to her desk once more.
Zeus looked up, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Thank you," he called after her just before she got to the door. "I do appreciate it."
Alana shrugged, turning back to glance at him, then smirked. "Not like I'm gonna find another high payin' job so easily." A small lie. She could probably make some good money if she went about to being an all around handyman.
The god returned the smirk. "No, you're not. Now go tell Giggles if he ever puts rum of that quality on the menu himself, I'll flay his hide." A joking little threat. Kind of.
"Will do." Turning, she left the office to return to her duties, and see what could be done about that betting pool.
Summary: Greg and Alana are hanging out together on a particularly slow day, Greg pops a question -- no, not THE question -- and she discusses it with Zeus. Well, kinda.