InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "You give me something."

Erebos (the__dark__one) wrote in paxletalelogs,
@ 2011-09-18 20:07:00

Entry tags:

erebos, ereshkigal

TRUTH AT THE BOTTOM OF A GLASS [Fiona]
WHO: Elias + Fee
WHAT: Spooky Meeting!
WHERE: Beacon Pub
WHEN: 8:30 p.m., Tuesday, September 6th
STATUS: Complete

The table Elias chose was well in the back of the raucous establishment. For a Tuesday night, the place was exceptionally crowded. Noise was its own sort of privacy, however, and Elias found he did not fault Ms. Fee for her selection of this meeting place.

Rubbing his free hand through his hair in an uncharacteristic gesture of weariness, the dark, suit-clad man looked every bit out of place as he felt. The old-fashioned set of paper notes in a steno pad on the table in front of him and the fountain pen of nondescript branding pinched between his thumb and forefinger marked him as a strange sort of customer, one who was not looking for the sort of thing one sought at dives like this. The beverage he'd ordered -- scotch on ice -- remained untouched. And Elias looked positively exhausted. His skin was pale and there were smudges under his eyes that brought out the middle-aged lines creeping in the corners above them.

It had been a sleepless night and a difficult workday. His living situation was beginning to wear at him. And then there was the very uncomfortable necessity of leaving Ms. St. Giles at her apartment early this morning. It reminded him of many things - none of which were things he wanted in his mind or heart. But there was more. His clear desperation must have made it so difficult for him to walk out that door, lock it, and slide the key under the door again. Eying the glass on the table, he decided the worst thing he could do right now is drink.

In short, Elias was tired, distracted, and looked it. Every so often he checked the doorway to the pub, but he didn't know who he was looking for. The girl's message made her sound young.... perhaps in her mid twenties. And there seemed to be a tie between her and Karin, although he hadn't figured out what it was.

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ladyofaralu
2011-10-08 03:16 am UTC (link)

Fiona walked through the bar, the tap of her flats against the hardwood swallowed by the music playing inside, some appropriately classic modern rock. In her skinny jeans and fitted red t-shirt emblazoned with a close-up of a bright green Tyrannosaurus Rex in a comic-book panel, his jaws open wide in a smile that showed all his teeth.

She wended her way through the crowd expertly, shifting between bodies until she got to the back. Immediately, she felt something. She recognized it -- it seemed to happen all the time these days, at Pax, at work, even with Karin, all to varying degrees. That little prickling at the back of her neck, the little breath of almost-memory...

But it was different now. It kind of reminded her of Julian, but not at all. She looked at the man in black.

"202?" she asked.

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(DINOSAUR COMMIIICCS FTWWWW!!!)

the__dark__one
2011-10-13 03:17 am UTC (link)

He stood immediately - a gesture he was almost certain would be lost on this modern young lady. Her face and hands looked to belong to a woman of her mid twenties, confirming his previous supposition.

"Elias Sandoa," he responded. "May I assume that you are Fee? And may I offer you a drink?"

As he asked, it felt the most natural and easiest question to put to her -- and some twisted, sardonic part of him wondered just why it was not an easy question to put to Ms. St. Giles. His mouth dried at the remembrance of her, and restlessness rapped against his ribcage in time with the rhythm of his blood. Ms. St. Giles. Half his distraction tonight he attributeD to her and to her alone.

Twisting half around, Elias easily caught the bartender's attention, lifted two fingers, and tilted them once toward Fee. It was enough to get a nod, and a second later, the bartender was directing one of the cocktail waitresses in their direction.

"Thank you for coming," he said, waiting for her to sit before he took his own chair again.

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(:D:D:D:D:D:D)

ladyofaralu
2011-10-17 05:04 pm UTC (link)

"You may," she said, grinning at his formality. "And you definitely may."

She slid into the offered seat, crossing her legs as she looked up at him. Mid-thirties, suit, so formal that she probably should have been intimidated - but Fiona had never been smart enough to know when to be intimidated. Instead, he felt familiar to her, kind of like New York versus Chicago -- really different cities, but with enough similarities to make you think they might be related.

Not that she imagined she was related to this guy. Even if he did have the dark hair, light eyes thing going. What was with that around here?

Either way, it made her curious, and more open to him than she normally might have been.

"No problem," she said as the waitress came over. "Can I get a Guinness? Thanks."

She turned back to Elias.

"So, nice to meet you. Something's rotten in the state of Newport. What's up?"

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the__dark__one
2011-10-19 02:00 am UTC (link)

Elias waited until the cocktail waitress took her order before he opened the notes he'd meticulously created from his own observations and the interviews conducted with others. Smoothing a clean, fresh page down with the back of his hand, he set his pen across the base of the tightly curled wires, then folded his hands in front of him. There would be a time for notes. Not now.

He could have eased into the conversation, could have attended to the niceties of politesse, but he was exhausted. The truth was that Fee's clear extroversion was already taxing in his state. His lack of tolerance was no dispersion against her, but rather a reflection on his own personality. No, he had nothing against her. He wanted to speak with her. But he wanted to do it quickly.

And so with little more fanfare and no nonsense at all, he began.

"It seems to me that some of us were attacked the night of the blackout, but by whom and for what purpose yet remains a mystery -- a mystery I hoped you could help solve. Of everyone I've spoken with, each seemed to suffer a different ailment based on a single sense -- sight, hearing, touch, smell. This was true until last night, when I spoke with someone who mentioned you, someone who must be very close to you, although she never did tell me the connection. Might I inquire from you?"

They both had the same dark hair, the same pale skin -- but although Fee's eyes were light like Karin's, they didn't hold the haunted aspect that he'd seen from the lady last night. They could possibly be related. But their experiences must have been drastically different. Elias set his fingertips against the side of his pen but didn't yet pick it up.

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ladyofaralu
2011-10-19 02:13 am UTC (link)

Immediately, Fiona's posture changed, and she decided for what might have been the millionth time that all these laws prohibiting smoking in bars were stupid. Instead, she leaned back from the table, resting her elbow on the back of her chair.

"What gives you that idea?" she asked casually. It was one thing to be open with her own business, but he was most likely talking about Karin, and Karin changed the game. Fee wasn't about to just give over any information about her sister that Karin hadn't already. "I know lots of people, have lots of connections. I'm a bartender."

Well, it was almost true. Right now, it was just barbacking, but that'd change in a week.

"Anyway, no, I didn't suffer any 'ailments.' Though weird that a bunch of you did," she noted. "What'd everybody else say?"

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the__dark__one
2011-10-21 03:18 am UTC (link)

He was weary. He was uncomfortable. He was not in the best of spaces to abide games. Elias pushed the pen away from him with the backs of his fingers and sat back in his chair. He had a mind to apologize to Fee for having taken her time and to leave.

But there was the matter of Charlie. And her little man. If he had been the only one -- if it had been only himself and a handful of strangers, it would have been different. But it was Charlie. Why he felt so driven to protect the girl, he didn't know. But. He. Must. If that meant staying when he otherwise would have left, then so be it.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, he ignored Fee's challenge altogether. If she didn't want to talk about her connection to Karin, then he would not press. But the rest had to be addressed. Elias ground out softly, "The stories belong to those who gave them to me," he said. "And it is not for me to divulge their details any further than I have already. But I will tell you that they were all in the lobby that night." Dropping his hand, he looked across the table at Fee. "And as with Karin, I will tell you the things that I experienced myself. Flashes of memory that was not my own. Glances of an... entity... in the aftermath of my own visual attack.

"But you came here because you also have something to tell. What is it, Fee?"

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ladyofaralu
2011-10-22 06:04 pm UTC (link)

"OK," she shrugged. As relaxed as his posture was, it occurred to her that he could easily be a plant for the building, somebody wandering around and getting information from people. She'd already noticed not seeing a couple of people around who she'd seen around before, and after what she and Max and found in that closet, she couldn't help but think that there was something seriously shady going on. She'd thought that maybe this guy would be someone who could help, or who maybe at least could shed some light on what was going on, but it seemed to Fee that he was all take and no give -- asking questions about Karin, about what happened that night, when this information could threaten people's careers, or lives.

As far as the memory flashes, there were the dreams. But he could have heard that from anybody. She couldn't see any good reason to trust him completely, especially when he was acting so shady.

Her beer came and she smiled at the waitress. "Thanks, doll."

But she didn't touch the glass, and instead kept looking at Elias Sandoa.

"I came here because somebody's gathering information on weird shit happening in the place where I live," she corrected him. "But I don't feel particularly inclined to spill my guts to you. Mostly because I don't know you, so I don't trust you. But also because if there's some kind of shenanigans happening at Pax, I don't see who elected you point man, and why if there's something important enough for you to be conducting interviews for, you're being so secretive about it."

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the__dark__one
2011-10-26 03:20 am UTC (link)

Something behind his icy green eyes shifted, and his expression became both stony and cold -- but there was nothing in his face that had changed. He was too impatient for the games this young madam seemed hellbent on playing.

"Right," he bit out. The word carried finality - a period on a sentence. Drawing from the inside pocket of his suit jacket, he pulled out his wallet, tugged out a twenty and a five, and pinned the bills under the salt shaker. "You could have told me this in a message and saved us both the time."

It was uncharacteristically short of him, but if Fee wasn't satisfied with his own experiences and wanted him to betray the confidences of others, he would do without her insight. Collecting his things quickly, he stood. "I'm sorry to have bothered you."

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ladyofaralu
2011-10-29 02:13 am UTC (link)

She shrugged as he rose, a smile playing at the corners of her lips. This was almost too easy. Fee hadn't come here with the intention of picking a fight, but she wasn't impressed by the Mr. Mysterio act, or his fancy suit, or his stiffness. He was digging up information on her and hers, and without saying much for himself. In her mind, that made him not only someone she should think twice about trusting, but someone to poke at some, too.

"I didn't know it when I wrote the message. Now I do. But no worries," she said, raising her glass to him. "No big bother. Thanks for the beer."

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the__dark__one
2011-10-31 12:46 am UTC (link)

Irritated that he'd given her more information about himself - potentially compromising information - than she'd been willing to share herself, he did not respond to her other than to nod as he stepped away. There was nothing good about today -- nothing his exhaustion let him see, at least. And as he walked out of the bar and onto the street, the miniscule crunch of unidentified detritus under his heels, the only thoughts in his head were of women he had hardly met. Charlie. Catherine.

They were very important to him. Suddenly frustrated with the lack of logic behind what he was feeling, and the lack of assistance this Fee had been, he let the bar door close behind him harder than it should have. Perhaps tomorrow he would feel regret. Tonight, there was none.

He went home.

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