noli timere messorem (defyuntildeath) wrote in paxletalelogs, @ 2017-04-19 00:06:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | kali, loki |
Made a wrong turn, once or twice
Made a wrong turn, once or twice
Who:Nishka and Jayati
What: Nish is investigating Loki in a bookstore and runs into a familiar face.
Where: a local out-of-the-way bookstore
When: very backdated- Saturday, March 18, 2017, three days after Nish was released from hospital.
What: Prompt thread.
Nish spent the requisite few days moping around her apartment, spending long hours just laying in bed, stroking Bear’s fur and thinking about things. She and Loki had a few good conversations, mostly him trying to cheer her up, though depression was following her around like an old friend these days.
The hospital called her on Friday, letting her know that her outpatient therapy started Monday morning, so she decided she’d go into work briefly after the first session to see Jessica and put out what fires she could. In the meantime, she had a few days to herself to figure things out.
And one of those things on her list was Loki.
She’d heard the name before, of course, in stories. Her grandfather used to love telling her the old stories from where he grew up in Norway, and she’d loved listening to them. But after he died, there was no one left to tell them, and the stories faded into her subconscious. That was part of why she still felt, in some way, that the voice that called itself Loki may just be that...her subconscious digging up her past and making her inner voice into something it isn’t. But still, her curiosity was piqued, and she found herself at a local bookstore perusing the shelves for books on Norse mythology, pulling one out that looked promising and flipping through it.
Jayati didn’t own a laptop until just a few weeks before the bar became a reality. It wasn’t that she didn’t find them useful, or disliked technology, it was just that they cost too much for something that wasn’t a necessity. Having a business however had made one necessary, for financials, ordering new stock, etc., but it stayed at the bar locked up in a safe.
So out of habit, when she wanted to learn how to cook something new or try new recipes, traditional cookbooks were her go to. There was something better about being able to write notes in the margins, and the tangibility of old grease and sauce stains had a significance she couldn’t quite measure properly.
The local bookstore already knew her face, which she didn’t find as dismaying as she might have once. It was the best sort, small and family owned, they owner had a toddler that stayed there half the afternoons some days and a large fluffy cat that tolerated people in his store. Both were far too fond of Jayati, and that had endeared her to the owners some. However, today, a new familiar face caught her eye as she wandered the aisles, unabashed curiosity piqued, especially at the section her friend was in she made her way towards her, stepping over stacks of books along the way.
“Hello stranger.” She didn’t ask how she was doing, as it wasn’t really necessary with the disconnected number and the recent dramatics in their building (a bit of knowledge that had been stuck in her craw like a piece of stray bone).
Nish looked up from the book she was skimming and saw Jay looking at her, maneuvering her way through the stacks of books on the floor of the quaint little shop. She’d thought she’d go to a smaller bookstore, out of the way enough that she wouldn’t run into anyone she knew, but if she had to run into someone Jay wasn’t a bad choice.
She smiled, though it was subdued and didn’t reach her eyes. “Hey,” she greeted, turning a little, looking her friend over, and then turning her eyes to the store around them. “You didn’t strike me as the bookstore type,” she commented with a shrug, but then she’d never thought about it. She knew Jay as a bartender and business owner; presumably she had books, but she’d just assumed she’d ordered them online like she usually did.
Whether it was politeness or a dislike of getting involved in other people’s emotional states--especially when she wasn’t working--her mouth stayed shut on the topic of Nish’s subdued expression and greeting that was probably affected by recent events. Another thing that she was trying to stay away from, squabbles that couldn’t eventually be solved by violence were not her idea of a good time.
She flipped over the three books in her hands, a crockpot cookbook, one that specialized in sauces, marinades and making her own spices, and pies. It was an odd contradiction in her hands, but she shrugged, “I don’t like shopping online, I like to flip through things first.” She glanced at the shelves where Nish had been looking, “You don’t seem like the mythology type.”
Nish smiled slightly, glancing at the epic looking cover on the book she was reading. “It's..a dream I had a while ago. Remembering part of a story I heard when I was a kid. I wanted to see how it ended.” Funnily enough, she couldn't remember her grandfather ever telling her about Ragnarok, though she had been six at the time. She glanced at the books in Jay's hands. “Doing some cooking?” she asked. “I should probably invest in one of those...do they have a Cooking for Dummies or something?” She was trying to joke, but the laughter didn't come and the smile didn't reach her eyes. She was still weak from the hospital, her eyes a little sunken, her skin a little pale, her clothes a little looser. She was spending most of her time sleeping and eating takeout, and it showed.
Jayati glanced down at her books, shrugging minutely in the process, “It’s the little things that keep you sane.” Her eyes raked over Nish’s form then, taking stock in the changes there since last she had seen her friend looking a bit too much like she was analyzing an opponent in a fight, though it could be hard for her to toggle between modes as it were.
“Did someone hurt you?” She ignored the weak joke and jumped to the point, both a talent and a flaw of her’s.
Nish’s eyes flew up to meet Jay’s, slightly alarmed at the directness of the question, though with Jay she should hardly be surprised. She considered what to tell her, keenly aware that they were in public and could easily be overheard. But it wasn't like their whole building didn't already know.
“I hurt me,” she sighed, glancing away with the admission.
Her head tilted to the side, eyes still narrow with focus and intent on Nish, and almost felt back into the old hand signs of the NY Triad to ask if the other person was bugged. But it most likely wasn’t that sort of trouble, or at least her gut didn’t tell her that.
“That’s vague.” It wasn’t that she meant to be unsympathetic or snappish, but she didn’t really have the compassion needed to gently draw out answers either. So her mind back tracked, to the last time she had seen Nish looking normal, either around the building or at the bar, and what could have happened in that time frame.
“Oh. Is this about someone reenacting Mean Girls on the bulletin board in the lobby of Pax?” She hadn’t really read them, only glanced at the sheets long enough to know it wasn’t something she gave two shits about or cared enough to get involved in. But she also hadn’t realized who had been implicated in them, “If someone is writing nasty shit about you for the public to see I think that is more embarrassing for them than you.” It was her weird way of trying to be reassuring.
Nish closed the book she’d been reading, holding it protectively over her chest, crossing her arms over it. “It was my diary,” she told her quietly, feeling her throat tighten with emotion but swallowing to keep it at bay. “He...stole my diary and published it. Writing lies in my handwriting to make me look horrible to my friends and…” she stopped then, having to pause to hold back a tear that was forming. Those fucking pills making her fucking emotionally weak. “I couldn’t deal. I had no one.”
There was a protective tendency in Jayati that she suppressed with possibly more vehemence than the bloodthirsty side. It was a weakness, it made her vulnerable and made the people she felt protective towards be more vulnerable. Besides, Nishka was a grown ass woman. The closest thing probably she had to an actual friend these days, but still, grown.
Alas, logic and reason had never stopped her before and it didn’t stop her in that moment from pulling her shoulders back and lifting her lips in a snarl, a spark of her old self rearing it’s head in her narrowed eyes and posture that suddenly saidready. But she tamped it down, and it stayed an ember instead of anything worse.
“Do you want me to hurt them?” It would have been more severe had she been harmed physically, but a reputation was an important thing and they must have broken into her apartment. You don’t invade someone’s space.
Yes was her immediate reaction. She wanted Abel to suffer, she wanted him to hurt, like she did. But she’d been thinking about it ever since she woke up in the hospital, that it wouldn’t matter to him. She was sure that regular things wouldn’t bother him like they do other people. Sociopaths don’t feel emotional pain like other people do, after all...and ironically he’d probably be the first person to point that out.
“I don’t want you in trouble,” she said instead. Not quite an answer, but it was true all the same. She knew Jay, she knew she could take care of herself, but she wouldn’t wish Abel on anyone.
Now that brought a twitch of a grin, a shark’s smile and a snort of amusement. She could see the indecision on Nish’s face, knew that she was tempted and far more affected by this whole situation than she wanted to let on. It was hard to blame her, had this happened to Jay--or something similar, as she did not keep a diary--she would not have wanted assistance, though she would have definitely wanted retribution.
But she wouldn’t push, wouldn’t take the right of getting her own hits in from Nishka unless she was asked, or if whoever this was ever put hands on her, “I’m a professional, even when I’m working as a friend.” That was all that would be said about that, she wasn’t the sort to list her experiences or qualifications, especially in the middle of a bookstore, “But if you need help, even just with cleanup, let me know.”
Nish thought about it, seriously thought about it. It would be so easy to turn Jay loose on Abel. She didn’t know...exactly...what Jay would do to him, but she had been the one to secure the woman a new identity. It was obviously not just to turn over a new leaf. There was something in her past...something toxic...that she was hiding from. And that something had left her with skills she was now willing to use to help her.
She chewed on her lip, thinking it over, and then nodded, tucking the information into the back of her brain for later. “Thanks,” she said with a weak smile. She took a deep breath, feeling her heart skipping a few beats as a result, suddenly feeling exhausted. She knew she was breaking the rules, orders from her doctor at the hospital had been to rest, to stay in bed as much as possible, start doing things slowly. So the first chance she got she went out to a bookstore? Driving was a big no-no right now, with her heart as unstable as it was, but she’d done it anyway. Now she was feeling too tired to get back home.
“Jay...would you...I know it’s not far, but...could you take me home?” One hand was steadying her against the bookshelf, but she was still clutching her chosen book in her other hand. She wanted to buy it, and then she wanted to sleep.
Jayati considered herself a fairly straight forward person, if she didn’t like you then you knew it, but in the same vein if she was fond of you then you tended to be well in the know of that as well and she wasn’t afraid to show either unless work inhibited her.
So if someone was in her circle, she didn’t hesitate to help them, even if they were in the outer edges of said circle (but that was all she had these days). So she nodded and gestured towards the counter, “If you don’t mind a motorcycle I’ll take you anywhere you need to go.”
Nish managed a weak, grateful smile and followed Jay to the counter, purchasing the book in her hands and following her outside. She'd worry about getting her car later, after she'd had a good long rest.