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Topic: Witchcraft: Stare into the Night
Subject: Milk, tuna, shaving cream... Janelle...
The frantic flickering of the girl's essence prompted Alex to wince a bit and, like that first encounter with the sun this morning, urged him to put his shades back on. He also couldn't help but smile at her return greeting,
Mr. Sharpe, he chuckled inwardly. "You can call me, Alex," he reminded her. Of course, any of the times he had accompanied Rosie to any of her meets, or tournaments, or demonstrations, or whatever the term was where it applied to her fencing team, she had always introduced him to others as ‘my friend, Mr Sharpe' so, despite the reminder, he figured that he'd probably remain Mr Sharpe for the duration.
His smile brightened a bit and he offered a faint nod when she accepted his offer of a ride home,
"Oh, yes, if you don't mind. A ride would be nice... I can't run quite so fast if I'm carrying groceries anyway," she chattered in reply a she snatched a carton of milk, seemingly at random, from the shelf, "Besides, you still bring your cat with you everywhere, right? I should say hi to her at least, and I like petting her... she's very soft."
,and Alex's smile broadened even more at that. "Yeah," he answered, "Smoke's waitin' in the car, in fact. I'm sure she'd love it if you said hello, she won't give up the front seat," he added with a chuckle, "but she'll be happy to..."
The smile had suddenly faded from Rosie's face, having been replaced by a rather nervous expression; "Um, your watch,"
Crap! Alex hadn't even thought about his watch when he noticed Janelle raiding the dairy case. If he had, the thing would have already been stowed away, deep in a pocket and out of the girl's sight.
", you still don't have a digital one yet? I thought we had picked you out one a couple of weeks ago, and you said you were going to order it... Noon is only half an hour away after all..."
"Uh," Alex faltered for a second, simultaneously sorting his hangover-addled thoughts and tugging at his sleeve in an attempt to cover the analog face of his watch "no, Rosie, not yet, I, uh, had to get the phone bill paid and all that and,"
"I, I could draw up a ward for it in the meantime," she suggested, her hand already for the ever-present sketchbook.
"Yeah," he conceded, noticing the bead of sweat that had formed near her left ear, "okay, kid. Sure.
How about I take this," Alex tried a reassuring grin as he took her milk and added it to his own groceries, "so you've got two free hands. I'll go settle up our bill and meet you at the car, okay? I'm right outside."
~*~*~*~
A few minutes later, with Rosie's "ward" securely wrapped around his watch, Alex stepped back out onto the street, several bags of groceries in hand. Rosie was already in the backseat of the old Chevelle, leaning over the front seat to pet and chatter with Smoke. The sight warmed his heart, of course - in the past few months he had come to love the nagging bast and the odd little Asian girl like family - but at the same time he couldn't help but think; Lord and Lady! You've become the creepy, old guy with a cat! You kinda do need to get a life, Sharpe!
Chuckling to himself, Alex crossed the sidewalk and deposited the grocery bags in the backseat through the open window. "Look who I found, Smoke," Alex grinned, nodding at Rosie and nestling a cigarette in the corner of his mouth as he opened the driver's door and slid in, "Made me a ward for my watch and everything."
There isn't anythin' wrong with this life, he told himself as he lit his smoke with one hand and started the car with the other. Better than plain ol' booze and bonfires, anyway, he tried to assure himself as he pulled away from the curb and aimed the car in the direction of Rosie's apartment building.
"So, you are headed home, right, Rosie," he asked, flicking a glance at her via the rearview mirror, "got any plans besides grocery shoppin' for the day?"
Posted on 2009-09-11 at 14:00:33.
Edited on 2016-03-07 at 06:43:58 by Eol Fefalas
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Topic: Auguries of Destruction: The Clock Tower Q&A
Subject: WooHoo!
Yes is my favorite answer!
Posted on 2009-09-10 at 22:54:24.
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Topic: The One Word Game
Subject: D'oh!
Bing!
Posted on 2009-09-10 at 19:52:07.
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Topic: Auguries of Destruction: The Clock Tower Q&A
Subject: Okie dinkle!
Alex's post is all but done... Bas is in the hopper after that... and, if I don't get "missing" posts for SOTM by this evening *shrugs* I'll be tacking on a new bounce for that as well.
P.S. Sib is still with us, right?
Posted on 2009-09-10 at 19:50:42.
Edited on 2009-09-10 at 19:51:11 by Eol Fefalas
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Topic: Auguries of Destruction: The Clock Tower Q&A
Subject: *Big ol' grin*
I second that!
Town it is... dunno about following anyone but Bas is headed that way, regardless. 
I'm guessing the town is pretty much of the ghost town variety (as far as any of us can tell, atm, anyway) once we're actually out of the station and looking directly at it, Rer?
Posted on 2009-09-10 at 19:38:11.
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Topic: The One Word Game
Subject: Or, what one does across that divide...
gander
Posted on 2009-09-10 at 16:29:15.
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Topic: ^ < V game
Subject: Ms Scarlett, actually
^ Frankly, my dear
< Dear Frank
V Frankfurter
Posted on 2009-09-10 at 15:48:35.
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Topic: The One Word Game
Subject: bah-cluck!
Chickens
Mooooooo
Posted on 2009-09-10 at 15:45:58.
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Topic: Who Owns Rusty Dull Swords? (W.O.R.D.S.)
Subject: o.O
So... that leaves me with "supper"?
Silly Users Perpetually Post Eccentric Rants
Ha!
I dood it!
Posted on 2009-09-10 at 15:43:09.
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Topic: Auguries of Destruction: The Clock Tower Q&A
Subject: *le bump*
Just cuz I could move Meri's misplaced post but couldn't figger out how to change the Last 5 Updated doomaflotchy!
Posted on 2009-09-10 at 14:51:19.
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Topic: The Spores of Itanlok - Second Attempt
Subject: Say it ain't so, Joe!!!
Dunno that it's died as much as Almerin's been busy-busy-busy here of late and has simply succumbed to that cruel mistress we all know as Real Life... *shudders*
I'm hoping it's not dead, anyway... I need to atone for my lengthy absence, don't ya know?
Posted on 2009-09-09 at 21:55:59.
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Topic: Auguries of Destruction - The Clock Tower
Subject: Yes, I can. Looong overdue. ;)
The explosions and their preceding pressure waves had spurred Bas’ survival instincts even before his mind had registered them and, moving with preternatural speed and grace, the Feral’s body turned and twisted as he sprang across the platform in his efforts to avoid the flying shrapnel. A decidedly inhuman growl rumbled up from deep in his chest as he landed in a ready crouch several yards away from the rest and his narrowed eyes glowed with an animalistic rage as he surveyed the destruction and suffering that had resulted from the blasts. His body veritably rippled, the urge to change, to let the beast be free, manifesting physically as much as mentally in response to the perceived assault… and the coppery tang of spilled blood that now hung in the air. His lips curled back, revealing gleaming, white incisors that seemed to be lengthening by the second, as the growl reached his throat… a growl that could very well have evolved into a howl if he let himself go.
There was another scent in the air, though. One that tickled his senses and piqued his curiosity even more than the smell of blood… Tainted essence, his mind registered as he tipped his head back and sampled the air again, the leftovers of a curse, maybe… He expelled the bitter tang from his with an aggravated chuff as he rose from his crouch and, finally, thought to inspect his own wounds. His fingers found and tested each injury for severity, irritated snarls punctuating the exploration of those that were worse than scratches, before he tore away his shirt and began to fashion bandages from it. After tending his wounds and discarding the remains of the t-shirt Bas finally stalked towards the remainder of the group, licking the blood from his fingers as he approached.
The odd little girl in the oversized hoody was busy tending to the crippled womanand her mangled husband… Doesn’t smell dead. Might be better off if he was… She had apparently already managed her own injuries.
The female with the blood-colored hair, too, was busy tending her own wounds but was quick to catch Crowkiller’s attentions when she got to her feet. “So,” she said, gingerly testing her weight on an injured leg, “I’m not really planning on staying around for someone to come help us. Anyone need anything? Cause if not, I’m getting out of here…”
The ghost of a smile played on his lips as he turned his lupine eyes in her direction. “And where will you go, little rabbit,” he asked, eyeing her curiously. “Deeper into the town where this hunt leads,” he nodded faintly in the direction of the clocktower that had recently tolled out the destruction that had been visited upon them, “or, maybe,” his eyes ticked to where the train tracks disappeared into the night, “away from destiny and into some perceived escape from what we are?”
((OOC: Okay… it’s not much but I think I’m getting back into ol’ Sebastian’s head with this one.  EDIT: Oops! Carrie's the one in the wheel chair, not the hubby! Fixed.))
Posted on 2009-09-09 at 18:53:52.
Edited on 2009-09-09 at 19:45:25 by Eol Fefalas
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Topic: Straight On Til Morning Q&A
Subject: Posting our move forward
Tomorrow for sure. If there's anything anyone wants to add before that, today's your day.
Posted on 2009-09-09 at 15:43:43.
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Topic: Stare into the Night Q&A
Subject: Hey! Looky what I found!
I knew I had this handy somewhere... just had to remember where I put it, I guess. Anyway, for your reference: the original character description/history for Alex... don't think too much has changed since this write up... maybe a few subtle details but still pretty much good.
General Description: Alex is 5’10” and weighs between 160 and 165 lbs. He’s got a rather shaggy mop of brown hair that has just started showing signs of gray (it used to be cut close and kept much neater before Emily was killed and he left the police force but, these days, doesn’t look as if it’s been properly cut since shortly after her funeral) and, more often than not, several days growth of beard the same color. His eyes are gray and frequently give away when he’s had a bit much to drink. Typical clothing for Alex is a pair of relaxed fit Levi’s, a rumpled, button-down shirt (sometimes with a t-shirt or undershirt worn underneath, other times not), a battered leather coat, and a pair of Timberland chukkas or boots. (Pic attached for a general idea of Alex’s standard look). Although Emily’s been dead for three years or more, Alex still wears his wedding ring and a pentacle necklace/amulet that belonged to her. Additionally, Alex bears a multitude of notable scars including what appear to be burn scars on his hands and forearms (the result of getting a little ‘crazy’ with Elemental Fire) – these would be the most likely to be noticed – others that are typically hidden from most folks are numerous scars on his chest and abdomen that look as if someone tried to carve some sort of symbols into him at some point.
Character History: Alex’s parents, Avery and Isabelle Sharpe, were both members of a Wicce coven and, as such, Alex himself was raised and nurtured with Wicce Theology as his ‘religion.’ While he understood the precepts, tenets, and other aspects of the faith as a youngster, Alex, as most rebellious young men are wont to do and despite his natural Gift, didn’t embrace the Covenant of his parents beliefs and philosophies and, for a long time, aside from writing ‘wiccan,’ on forms and such that requested a religious affiliation, had very little involvement with the craft. Of course, he would attend rites with his family and, on occasion, study half-heartedly. Other than that, though, Alex stayed away from overt practice of the Craft, himself, throughout the majority of his young life.
He did take a slightly more active interest in the Wicce Covenant in his late teens and early twenties, though. He was studying Law and Criminal Justice at the University of Chicago when he met Emily Lenox, a Gifted young woman from a long line of Wicce in Vermont, who was studying Humanities and Psychology at the University. The two dated, fell desperately in love, and eventually married. Despite his relationship with Emily, though, and even though she’d brought him closer to the Wicce covenant as a whole, Alex still wasn’t what any would have called a devout practitioner. After college, Alex joined the Chicago Police Department while Emily (after working a series of ‘unfulfilling’ jobs in Social Services agencies and the like) eventually opened an ‘occult bookstore’ on the first floor of the greystone building that they had purchased in the Old Town neighborhood of Chicago (which often served as a regular meeting place for Emily’s coven). Alex eventually attained the rank of Detective Sergeant on the force (working in both Homicide and Vice units at different times) and Emily enjoyed the modest but comfortable success of the bookshop (which she preferred to think of as a Wicce library and/or outreach center).
A few years ago, Emily’s coven became aware of a ‘dark coven’ in the area that had come to serve, if not outright worship, the demon Azazel. Realizing that Azazel’s influence would certainly not bode well in a city like Chicago (where corruption, vice, and violence was easily found almost anywhere one might care to look), it became a major goal of Emily’s coven to work against and, if possible, stop this ‘Cult of Azazel’ before they became powerful enough to actually summon the demon. The Azazelites, unfortunately, were already more powerful than Emily’s coven had initially thought and, as a result, the two groups became embroiled in a fairly intense conflict… a metaphysical punch-counterpunch sort of thing with rites and rituals performed on both sides in hopes of diminishing or destroying the other. As the conflict grew, so too did Azazel’s cult. Emily’s coven, on the other hand, had difficulties maintaining any more than thirteen practicing members and, in a lot of cases, fewer than that number attended meetings let alone any of the rituals that the coven performed in their battle against the Azazelites. Eventually, of course, the conflict between the groups came to a head and culminated in the one event that would bring Detective Alex Sharpe closer to the Covenant than anything else in his entire history.
Emily’s coven came to the realization that the dark coven had grown in power and numbers and, as such, were dangerously close to being able to actually summon the ancient demon. Thus, while they knew they hadn’t the metaphysical resources among them to match that which the cult could bring to bear, they made the decision to perform a ritual that, if it worked, would bind the Azazelites and, possibly, Azazel himself in a manner of speaking. Emily had managed to secure promises from all thirteen members of her coven that each would be there to join the circle when the time came – such an attempt to bind a demon or even its human devotees with any fewer than 13 in the circle would have been folly – and having done so, began preparations for the ritual to be conducted in coincidence with the next full moon. Alex, of course, was aware of the plans and, while he questioned Emily’s readiness for such an undertaking even with a full circle of thirteen, he supported her (as he always had) and her coven as best he knew how… even offering to help by, maybe, running some of the cultists in on any sort of charges he might be able to come up with on them. She assured him, though, that as long as all thirteen members of her own coven stayed true to their word and participated in the ritual, that the worst that could happen would be that the incantations would simply fail and flatten with little effect for better or worse (other than having exhausted parties on both sides and, perhaps, sapping available power from both groups for a time). Unfortunately, on the night that the ritual was to be performed, only ten of the thirteen members of Emily’s coven showed, leaving them short of both available essence and the mystical strength associated with the number thirteen. As the Azazelites power had grown in recent days, though, and despite not having the numbers they would have wished, the coven decided to proceed with the ritual with nine members in the circle (the remaining member was to stand watch ‘just in case’) because, to do otherwise was risking the cult growing powerful enough to be beyond any intervention of which they might be capable. Even more unfortunately, the Azazelites were better prepared (and more powerful) than any in Emily’s coven suspected or even imagined. During the ritual, Emily’s coven was overrun and, for lack of a better or more fitting term, slaughtered by Azazelite minions (both gifted, mundane, and purely supernatural).
On the night of the ritual, Alex was in the midst of working a crime scene on the city’s South Side when he received a call on his cell phone from a number he didn’t recognize (he would learn later on that the number belonged to the member of Emily’s coven who had been assigned ‘watch duty’ during the ritual). He knew exactly what the call was about, though, when he lifted the phone to his ear and heard the gods-awful sounds that came through it… screams of pain, the sick gibbering laughter and merciless howls of carnage and destruction, all the sickening sounds of something gone horribly wrong. Alex abandoned his partner at the crime scene without a word and raced for the location where Emily had told him the ritual would take place. He arrived too late. When he entered the old warehouse (selected because it had been built over an ancient place of power) the slaughter was all but complete. Aside from the blood and bodies the only living things that Alex found were four ‘lesser members’ of the Cult of Azazel who had been tasked, apparently, with hanging each of the members of Emily’s coven from the ceiling (directly above the positions in which they had stood outside the circle) and opening them up from neck to navel and letting their innards fall into the ring of salt below. Alex shot one of them before thy noticed he was there and managed to get off several more shots (despite the sickening pain in his heart and the tears that clouded his vision) before the other three managed to subdue him… staring at Emily’s defiled body, he lost consciousness (hoping that he’d soon be seeing his wife again) well before the Azazelites torture reached it’s height. He remembered awaking briefly, still on the floor of the warehouse and still alive. The cultists were gone, Emily and her coven still hung from the ceiling in a mockery of the circle they had created, and a man (a Vampyre, actually, as Alex would learn sometime later) was standing over him telling him that the essence here was horribly tainted and, also, that help would be coming.
Alex Sharpe spent several days thereafter in the hospital recovering from the wounds to both his body and his psyche. His body healed quicker than his mind though and he found himself plagued by recurring nightmares of the phone call and finding his wife in that hellish place and what the Azazelites had done to him… to her… to all of them. Along with the nightmares came guilt, depression, and soon enough, the thirst for revenge against those (human or otherwise) who had taken Emily from him. He managed to stay employed with the Chicago PD for a time and was able to use the resources available to him as a result to help in finding some of the cultists but soon realized that ordinary, mundane police work wouldn’t ever be enough to get the results he wanted… also, his obsession with exacting revenge on the Azazelites (which often ‘Distracted Detective Sharpe from the actual cases he had been assigned’) coupled with the facts that a) he had started drinking and smoking quite heavily and b) had started demonstrating a particularly cruel streak when dealing with suspects, led to him being referred first to a department shrink and, finally, to the Internal Affairs bureau, convinced him that it was well past time to put the Chicago PD behind him. Shortly after making the decision (within hours, in fact) Alex Sharpe tendered his resignation and spent the next several months fully immersed in the study and practice of the magical arts and, having built a modicum of power and a decent arsenal of incantations, spells, and other workings of the Craft, began hunting the Azazelites.
Posted on 2009-09-08 at 19:26:49.
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Topic: Stare into the Night Q&A
Subject: Nice!
Wheeeee! Shouldn't be long now and the fit will really hit the shan, huh?
No... Alex surely wouldn't have figured out the times that really bug Janelle the most, yet, I don't think... one or two of them, maybe (like the aforementioned 12 and 6), but by no means all of them... good call on the watch, too... perfect spot to pick up.
Posted on 2009-09-08 at 18:32:16.
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Topic: Add On Story. Fill in 3 words!
Subject: ???
...didn't read the...
Posted on 2009-09-07 at 19:04:19.
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Topic: Stare into the Night Q&A
Subject: Tag! Rosie's it!
Figured I'd let Reralae pick it up, there... I can only imagine what might happen given the time and, fer the luv o' Petey, it's just so fun when Rer freaks out!
Glad that my "inner vision" is so close on the characters... makes the movie a lot easier to watch when the characters are consistent, you know... popcorn? 
Hmmm... the links are moving pretty well from here... I'll look into it, though.
L ving the posts all around, gang! I don't even thinks there are words to express how much fun I'm having with this already. I owe each of you a beer... or glass of wine... or Capri-sun... whatever your drink of choice might be.
Posted on 2009-09-07 at 18:12:14.
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Topic: Witchcraft: Stare into the Night
Subject: Well. Fancy meetin' you here.
Moving through the store, Alex tried not to think about anything more than the list of items that he had come here to pick up - a few cans of tuna, maybe some salmon for a change, detergent and fabric softener, milk, how about some real coffee; no crystals, - but it wasn't easy. Joe's visit earlier in the morning (and the events that had precipitated it) kept running through his mind, as did Smoke's freely offered thoughts and admonitions on the whole situation, and, as a result, he couldn't help but wonder what Emily might have thought about all of it, about where his life had gone in these past years,
Of course, if Em was still alive, he thought as he dropped a few cans of tuna, mackerel, and salmon into his basket, I don't guess I'd have to think about it at all, would I? If I'd have just gone to the ritual like she'd asked me to,
He shook his head as if to physically shake the thoughts free. "You damn well know she wouldn't want you blaming yourself," he muttered following a heavy sigh as he moved along up the aisle, Wish that made it easier not to, He wanted a smoke all of the sudden and a drink, too, in spite of his still-protesting head and stomach. ,If I'd have been there, Another shake of his head to try and dispel the inner argument that he'd been having with himself on an almost daily basis for the past three years and Alex found himself pointed at the dairy case. The inner discussion had turned to the subject of how, if anything, Emily was still doing everything she could to help him move on, Even with all the rotten crap you've done, despite the rotten crap that you've become, Smoke came your way so you'd have someone to care about you; Rosie plopped into your life so you'd have someone besides yourself to watch out for. If that ain't Emily tryin' to tell you somethin',
"Rosie?" Alex blinked and finally took his sunglasses off just to make sure that he was seeing properly. The milk racks were a mess, the various cartons and bottles all shoved this way and that, and in the midst of the chaos was little Miss Janelle Hirta.
"Em, baby," Alex mumbled, his eyes ticking upward, "if this is you tryin' to help, it ain't funny." He stuffed his sunglasses into his pocket, then, and returned his gaze to Janelle's almost manic search of the dairy case. A grin had started tugging at the corners of his mouth as he approached. The grin faltered a little when, for whatever reason, he consulted his Blackberry for the time.
11:27, the hairs on the back of his neck prickled and the grin shifted into an almost nervous pursing of the lips, Crap! How'd that friggin' poem go again? Rosie had serious issues with time. Freaky-serious. Those issues, coupled with the fact that the girl packed enough untapped essence in her tiny frame to attract the attention of some really nasty boogens from the supernatural underground, were what had driven Alex to develop his ‘big brother' complex for the quirky Asian girl and, also, what had finally led him to start paying attention to that weird poem she was always reciting and trying to figure out what the precise times to look out for might be. For some reason, 11:27 didn't seem as if it was one of the better picks.
"Hey, Rosie," Alex smiled, reaffixing the grin so as not to tip her off to the time, "looks like the whole world runs out of milk at the same time, huh?" He snagged a carton of whole milk and a carton of cream from the shelves and dropped them into his basket before they got swept away in Janelle's searching. "You gonna need a ride back home or anything?"
Posted on 2009-09-07 at 18:07:36.
Edited on 2016-03-07 at 06:38:22 by Eol Fefalas
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Topic: dead computer
Subject: Well...
...nice to see you back... old computer or otherwise.
Posted on 2009-09-06 at 14:34:09.
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Topic: Stare into the Night Q&A
Subject: Since I'm a bit slow...
...with the drawings I've been working on, and due to the fact that I've kind of got a vision in my head of what our characters might look like... (not to mention, I'm just a wee bit bored at this very moment)... I decided that I'd claim a spot in this thread to "cast" our little tale with actors/actresses that I think are at least a bit close to what I "see" when I'm writing for this thing....
First up - Alex:
When Meri and I first started discussing Alex and Smoke, she mentioned to me that Alex rather reminded her of Guy Pearce in Memento... ... I kind of thought, "Well, yeah, the idea's a bit along those same lines and, hey, Guy does look a bit like what I figured Alex might look like... Sooooo.... Guy Pearce as Alex Sharpe. So close to what I actually envision Alex looking like that it's almost scary.
Next, for some reason, the very first time I read Rer's descritpion of Janelle, I came up with Zhang Ziyi. Am I close?
Penelope Rosa? Geez! I can't help but think Penelope Cruz. How'd that happen?
Smoke... well, Meri's got a very definite idea of Smoke's appearance and she even linked me to a photo of the exact kitty in question... unfortunately, I can't seem to find that url at the moment. 
NPCs
Brendan Gleeson as Joe Kelly.
Sarah Chalke as Emily Sharpe. (Not that she's liable to actually show up, mind you, but Alex has got pictures of her all over the durn place.)
Armand Assante as Lucius Macaire Le Deschamps (no pic yet... sorry.)
Posted on 2009-09-05 at 21:55:36.
Edited on 2009-09-07 at 15:39:02 by Eol Fefalas
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Topic: Straight On Til Morning Q&A
Subject: One down....
Okay, so I just heard from Loki and he's unfortunately going to be dropping.
I'll be seeing what I can do about finding someone to take over the role or replace with a new character in the near future. In the meantime, I'll be NPCing Ken.
Posted on 2009-09-05 at 18:40:12.
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Topic: Straight On Til Morning Q&A
Subject: Forward momentum
Okay, so Ayrn's informed me that he'll be away again thru the 8th of September (and will likely post around the 9th or so). We've got a couple of posts from the rest of you getting to/arriving at Bazrans that I can work with and, in order to keep this thing moving forward, I'm thinking that I may just go ahead and post my next in the coming days (by Monday evening, most likely).
That said, if any of you who haven't posted your character's reaction to their message from QWuentin's office and/or arrival to the reading of the will, you've got a couple of days to do so... If not done by the time I post, no worries... backposts are always good.
Posted on 2009-09-05 at 15:54:38.
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Topic: Stare into the Night Q&A
Subject: Finally!
There it is... all tied up in a nice little bow.
Following the trip to the store, Alex and Smoke are likely bound back for home... Putting away groceries, maybe doing some laundry at long last, and who knows maybe even checking the answering machine and seeing what Alex might be able to do about taking on some real (read: mundane) cases.
Until something else comes along, anyway. 
Posted on 2009-09-05 at 14:02:40.
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Topic: Witchcraft: Stare into the Night
Subject: Part the Second
Well at least you smell half way decent now, Smoke chided when Alex finally emerged from the lavatory and stepped over her on his way to the bedroom, Make sure you find clean clothes so you stay that way, if there are any clean clothes.
"I'm sure I'll find something," he smirked, sending the potpourri bag she had been toying with down the hall with a quick flick of his foot. "You out here to make sure I didn't fall down in the shower again?"
Someone's got to keep an eye on you, Alex, Smoke replied, bounding down the hall after the makeshift ball, since you won't do it yourself.
You didn't shave? It was more accusation than question.
"Thought about it for a minute," he shrugged, reaching for the nearly empty pack of cigarettes before rummaging through the closet and dresser to find the aforementioned clean garb, "couldn't find the shave cream."
You didn't drink it, did you?
"Not that I remember," Alex laughed softly, "brat."
He managed to find one clean pair of jeans, still folded neatly on the shelf in the closet, and a clean albeit un-ironed shirt hanging in there, as well. Tossing the towel aside and adding laundry detergent and fabric softener to his mental grocery list, he got dressed as quickly as his still throbbing head would allow, then checked himself in the mirror that topped Emily's dressing table, finger-combing his hair before shrugging into his jacket and stepping out into the hall. "Smoke? You ready?"
Aren't I always?
"Yes you are," Alex conceded following her down the steps. He paused at the still cluttered desk long enough to put Em's picture back in its proper place, snatch up his Blackberry, and tuck the flask he'd emptied last night into his pocket - he didn't bother making a side trip to the kitchen to refill it, though.
Once the front door was open, Smoke sashayed out onto the walk as if she owned the neighborhood and prowled in impatient little circles next to the '66 Chevelle that sat at the curb while Alex locked up the shop and muttered the quick incantation that brought up the wards that protected the place. Stepping out onto the walk himself, Alex winced at the cruel brightness of the daylight and tugged a pair of sunglasses from one pocket while fishing the car keys out of another. With the shades shielding his eyes, now, he unlocked the primer gray passenger door and held it open for the bast; "Your chariot awaits, m'lady," he snarked, smiling a little as she leapt up into the seat and set about kneading the sweater that waited there into an acceptable state.
You sobered up, yet, Smoke asked as he settled in behind the wheel and turned the engine over.
"Meh,"
Good, she interrupted, Now then, Last night was close. Too close for my comfort,
He felt her eyes on him as he pulled away from the curb and roared up the street. Do you even remember last night?
Alex was about to answer; "Yeah, unfortunately, I do," but, true to her nature, Smoke continued without waiting for his response, again.
Oh never mind... it doesn't matter what you remember, except that you nearly got yourself in deep s^*! with a detective. Although I must say I think he believed you on the whole 'you're too drunk to actually accomplish a killing' act...
Sure he did, Alex thought without bothering to vocalize the reply, He is,was, my partner and best friend for years. He'd never expect me to lie to him. Especially about something like that. Cop or not, he's gotta be having a tough time figuring that I'd do something like that, Can't really believe it myself, sometimes, I, guess,
He remained silent, both mentally and vocally, during the rest of Smoke's ‘lecture' and, despite the cat's claims to the contrary, actually listened to every word she said. He nodded his agreement from time to time, especially when there was no doubt that the bast was right, and shot her the occasional sidelong glance during the ‘why don't you sober up' bit - he knew he had a problem without having to be reminded of it, didn't like to have it pointed out even when it was done out of care and concern, tried not to remind himself of it when he could manage it,
Did you ever manage to pay the phone bill last month, Smoke asked as if to underscore the point she was making, They were threatening to cut off service if you didn't. Not that I'd care, I hate that thing... but you get good tips from it, oh and real jobs sometimes, you know... those things you get -paid- for to do...
"Yes, Mom," Alex grinned faintly, "I paid the bill. Coupla goth kids came in thinking the store was still open, Had no clue what they really wanted and I'm pretty sure they'll never be able to make any use of the stuff they picked up, but I managed to sell ‘em enough that I could cover the phone,"
You know maybe that's the ticket. Find yourself some real jobs... even if it's not real police work, even if it's just taking dirty pictures of some guy cheating on his wife... those things pay the bills. And hell maybe you'll get lucky and the wife will be lonely and you can get laid again. Even your cop friend would agree you need that.
His grin cracked into a full-blown smile at that. Then the smile erupted into an almost embarrassed laugh as he peered at her over the top of his sunglasses. "All right," he chuckled, "Geez! I'm with you on the jobs, Smoke. You're right, okay? No point in having the license if I don't take the cases and, yeah, we could definitely use the money, but, damn, get laid? I dunno, I just, Wow!"
Still laughing, he returned his eyes to the road ahead. The wedding ring that he still wore on the hand that was clutching the steering wheel glinted in the periphery of his vision. His free hand reached across the street and stroked the little fluffball as he guided the car off the street and parked in front of the grocery. "Here we are, sweetheart," he said, a little relieved that the store had appeared when it did as he just didn't know what to say or even think about the cat's suggestion. The truth of it was that, yes, like anyone else, he had those wants and needs but had never acted on them, he was still married to Emily, as far as he was concerned, and likely would have felt like he was cheating on her if he ever acted on any of those urges. "I'll be back in just a few minutes."
And love... Smoke's golden eyes lifted to meet his own as he shut the car down and opened the door, Whole milk... I'm not on a diet...
"You got it," he chuckled, scruffing her head again, before sliding out of the car, "maybe even some salmon or something, too, huh?"
He walked around the front of the Chevelle and started across the walk to the entrance but stopped suddenly looking back at her through the passenger door window. Hey, Ellgawen? he thought in her direction,
Yes, love?
Thanks, you know, for, everything.
He didn't wait for her to acknowledge it, of course, and she'd probably pick at him for having actually acknowledging her efforts as he just had, but he felt that he owed her at least that.
"Get laid, she says," he chuckled softly as he turned again and headed into the store, "Crazy cat..."
Posted on 2009-09-05 at 13:57:59.
Edited on 2016-03-07 at 06:30:42 by Eol Fefalas
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Topic: Stare into the Night Q&A
Subject: Oops!
Stoopid html tags and my not paying attention.
Bold is fixed... I think i did the colors on purpose to differentiate the "memory" from the "current" times... If it's too distracting i can fix with no problem... guess I do have the *** in there, huh?
Yep... The ES carved into Alex's pec stands for Eddie Stevens... most folks that might've seen it in the time since it was cut there probably thought it was a 'self inflicted homage' to Emily Sharpe but nooooooo.
Posted on 2009-09-04 at 19:16:18.
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