Tobias (civilian) tries to deal music in an alleyway to Nathan (civi), which Lucius (Nu), Soren (clef), & Silas (clef) witnesses. Rachel & Aren (Elecs) meet in Mark (civi)'s bookstore to discuss gang history.
Michael (clef) sees Rye (Nu) crash his bike outside the clock shop where Gareth (civi) works.
Hearing Ryan's call to her made Alex stop just as she turned the handle. This was Neo's sister. Neo, who lost his life several years ago during the same time Rye was caught. Neo, who Alex had a crush on but never dared say a word because she was too embarrassed whenever she was around him.
Letting go of the handle and turning towards them, Alex looked at them both as Rye said he thought about letting her in tonight and then turned briefly to Leena before explaining to her how they first encountered each other. Books about gangs? She wondered slightly if Leena was reading books about the old gangs, the ones who were constantly in suits and performed full on gang wars several times. She was happy they didn't have such gangs today, because she would look bad in a suit, way too formal.
Taking another look at Leena, Alex quickly moved forward and embraced the younger girl in her arms "I am so sorry for your brother. I really am." She said before letting her go and turning to look at Ryan "I have no objections Rye, but we still need to give her the basic test, and also make sure she understands that currently, she will suffer while being inside."
Quickly turning her gaze to Leena, Alex gave her a reassuring smile "You won't suffer from the other people, they will most likely accept you without hesitation. It is the music you will suffer from, as long as you still possess that thing." She said. Turning her gaze towards Ryan once more, she waited to see if he has no problems with what she said. Just because she was the sibling of a former member did not mean she couldn't have become a clef, and despite the love she still felt towards Neo, it was the exact same love that made her wary about Leena. What if the younger girl was actually trying to take out the gang as revenge for her brother? Love made people do all sort of things.
Summary:
Alex embraces Leena before telling Ryan she has no problems with Leena entering the place, under a single term and ensuring she understands what she is going into. She also have concerns about Leena.
It was obvious that Nadia did not share her excitement. Rachel hid her disappointment with the ice pack and let the topic die. She sheepishly wondered if she was getting ahead of herself, plotting revenge to be carried out by someone she hadn't even vetted yet. She didn't reflect too deeply, however, as Nadia changed subjects, avoiding an awkward lull in their conversation.
"Depends how things go tonight. It's possible I'll be around," Rachel answered as her partner got ready to leave. "Hey, y'know. I think this'll be Jett's first time with an initiate. If you run across him, pep talk him? Or… I don't know." Rachel shrugged, uncertain what sort of comfort her or Nadia could realistically offer. The comfort in wailing on some stranger usually wasn't something you could impart to another through back pats and cliche poster encouragements. Still, Rachel didn't want the barbarism of the act to traumatize the few she cared about.
Once Nadia had left, Rachel went to lean against the hood of her car and checked her wristwatch. In the next fifteen minutes, the presentation that Grace had been giving would be wrapping up, giving Rachel a chance to recover her purse. After that, straight to the nearest urgent care center. While her face still ached, she figured waiting was better than risking another confrontation. Besides, last thing she wanted was to walk back into that room full of teachers, parents, and students. Having to face Grace was more than enough.
----
It was half past 9PM when Rachel pulled up to the club where her interviewee supposedly worked. As she zipped up her black jersey jacket, Rachel looked around. She had been to the Pig Out club once before, back in her early twenties. At the time, it'd been alluring in its potential for harboring danger. Now, it just seemed like a slum she'd rather avoid. She couldn't let something like class cloud her judgment, though. Besides, observing new recruits while they were on the clock for their "day" job was one of Rachel's favorite parts of the interview process.
The "fly on the wall" process did have one kink in it, and that was the large, white bandage taped across her nose. Rachel had worn her blonde hair down as an attempt to try to obscure the bandage, and it mostly worked unless someone was to glimpse at her from straight ahead. Aside from an awkward exchange while showing ID at the door, Rachel kept her head down after she got in and bee-lined for the women's restroom. Once there, she ducked into a stall and holed herself up, waiting for ten minutes to pass. She'd hoped that any attention her arrival might have drawn would quickly be forgotten in that span of time.
As she casually left the women's restroom, Rachel took a seat at an unattended table. An old fashioned glass full of ice had been left sitting on a soggy napkin at the table, and she picked it up as if it were her own. She idly swirled the glass as she focused in on a bartender with green streaks in his hair. So this is Aren, the guy who wants to be an Elec, she thought as she sized him up. Once she'd gotten a fair look at him, she turned her head away, so he was just barely present in her peripheral vision. She didn't intend to get caught staring when she was observing her interviewee from afar.
At least an hour passed by, with Rachel's observation time only interrupted by short, planned trips to the restroom. Being a Monday night, the crowds had already started to thin out, leaving Rachel with very little entertainment. Eventually she grew bored, so she made her way up to the counter, grabbing a seat in one of the empty stools. The small glass she'd found when she first came in was still in her hand, and she rudely rapped the bottom of it on the counter a few times.
"Hey, barkeep, a rum and coke over here," she called out to Aren, not bothering to hide her face anymore. "Pretty dead in here, ain't it?"
@Shavynel Rachel picks up on Nadia's hesitation over the newbie. She says she might be in to HQ later that night, and asks Nadia to check on Jett if she gets the chance, talking about how it will be his first beat-in.
@Giltine13 Rachel tries to avoid suspicion by dressing down in old jeans, sneakers, and a jacket. She wears her hair down to obscure the large bandage on her nose. She sits and observes Aren for about an hour before growing bored. She bangs her glass on the counter and requests a drink from Aren, acting oblivious to her rudeness while trying to strike up conversation to see how he reacts.
Aren hardly could keep up with the incoming waves of the patrons when the work hours were over for most of the city's population. As hard as he tried, the bartender just couldn't get used to it nor keep away the panic building up in his chest. He took some medicine to ease his anxiety, sure, but they hardly helped at rush hours. Though, he was a good enough actor to keep it bubbling under the surface never reaching his facial features. Instead he donned a face of a calm and smooth bartender with a flirtish smirk directed at some of the female customers. Not that he found them any better than the pigs ordering drinks, but he thought it would suit this character he was creating.
It was utter bliss when the place cooled down once more, but Aren couldn't help dreading the upcoming Friday when some certain attractions open up to the already rowdy crowd. Those thoughts weren't very welcome; instead he focused on the faces coming in. One of them had to be his awaited guest. Not much caught his eye, though there was one quite lovely guy at some point, a rather too old for this geezer, a woman with a busted nose and a boy that couldn't have been older than 16, yet his documents proved otherwise. The woman holds his interest for much longer than the others, her strange behavior just stood out to him. Firstly she ran off to the restrooms, and then occupied an unattended table. This was sort of a self service bar, you had to come up to the counter for orders, the waiters only moved in for clean ups, yet she made no advances towards the bar. The bartender kept watching her from the corner of his watchful eye and almost blew his cover when he felt her stare on his back. Now this was getting interesting.
Aren continued to act as if she wasn't even there, busy with the glasses and orders, as rare as they were getting. He felt much better now and it helped to bring confidence to his character. It took the woman a bit over an hour to finally come and greet him, though he pretended he hadn't noticed her approach up until the harsh bangs of glass upon wood. Aren looks over to her disinterested, giving only a slight nod as he prepares the drink. He was quite proud of his newly found skills and he wasn't afraid to flaunt it before anyone who would bother to watch. This time the woman was the victim to his cocktail show. He presents the glass with absolute elegance, gracing it with a lime slice and a black straw.
"Here is your order," he said straight after, "And it does get kind of silent at this time. I do prefer it this way."
Aren made a pause as another patron asked for a drink and he quickly wiped it up, then took a glass to clean and came back to the woman, "Is there anything else I could help you with?"
Summary: [spoili]Aren continues with his work until he notices a strange woman. He keeps secretly watching her and latter attend to her order unaffected by her rudeness.[/spoili]
Despite having observed his talent in mixing drinks for the last hour, there was still something charming about watching him work from up close. Rachel grinned, equally amused by his nonchalance toward her shitty manners as she was with his show. She wondered how long he'd been working as a bartender to make all of his moves seem so natural and perfect. As he set the glass before her, Rachel dug a leather wallet out from her back pocket and started flipping through her cash, intent on tipping for the small amusement he'd provided.
"Really," she laughed at him in disbelief. She didn't have the chance to ask for further detail as he moved to assist his next customer. She kept the money she'd taken out of her wallet between her thumb and index finger, pondering the implications of a bartender who was indifferent over the slow times impacting his pay. No--not even just indifferent, but one who preferred them? He didn't seem the lazy type, nor the shy type, so...
She dropped the cash on the counter when he redirected his attention to her, having lost the chance to covertly stiff him.
"Just making conversation," she replied and took a polite sip of her drink. "Where'd you learn those mixing skills? How long you been in this kinda work? Bet you get the chance to meet with all sorts of interesting people."
@Giltine13
Rachel is surprised Aren prefers the quiet times at work. She pays and tips him, then asks about where he had learned his stuff/how long he'd worked/etc.
Aren shifted the glass to hold it alongside the rug in his right to take the money presented in front of him. He eyed it just for a second before hiding it somewhere beneath the counter and returned to polishing the glass at hand. He was a little surprised that the woman didn't just run off with her drink, rather she insisted on a conversation revolving around the bartender. Most women only did that to get a free drink or to hook up with him. Neither of the two interested Aren, so ignoring them was his go-to choice. However he had high hopes for this particular lady, namely because he assumed she was a gang member, thus the bartender chose to indulge her. Even if it was a delayed response.
"My father knew this craft very well and I ended picking it up. Although, I only recently started working in this field, after I lost my previous job. It seemed like the quickest way to get back on my feet, I suppose," Aren answered melancholically with a lie he had told more times than he bothered to count by now. But he couldn't help mentally frowning at his deadpan voice - he really needed to work on putting some emotion into his dialogue. And he was soundlessly tapping his foot again, what an annoying habit. At least no one could see it behind the counter, but it will get troublesome if he does ends up in a gang.. The barkeeper took a deep breath to prevent his thoughts from going further astray.
"You would win that bet, yes. Just working on the morning shift allows you to meet a bunch of colorful people. However, if you get a go through all the shifts.." Aren put some emphasis just to shake things up, "There really isn't much left to surprise you anymore." He finished with another sigh. He decided that was enough rubbing for a single glass, his manager might think he's avoiding work or something as ridiculous. So he stashed it away on the shelves and took a bigger rug out to clean the tabletop since he wanted to continue with the little chit-chat.
"What would you say to an equivalent exchange? What is it that you do for a living?" Aren questioned mildly going around her with the cloth through the already clean counter.
Summary: [spoili]Aren keeps the conversation going by answering the questions and giving one of his own to the woman @Chatoyante
[/spoili]
[BCOLOR=transparent]"I mean if you wanted, of course. I just assumed, with all the books about gangs and stuff, that that's what you wanted. Do you know how it works already?" Before Leena could answer Ryan's question, he shifted his attention towards Alex and told her about the books she checked out of the library that day. [/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]"Um... Actually, I never got the chance to read those. Though, I don't think it could be that bad...?"[/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]Leena was a bit surprised on how quickly she was offered the option of joining the gang. She guessed that being the little sister of a former member and friend, gave her an advantage. However, she had heard rumors on how the initiating process was conducted and that filled her with a sense of fear and dread. Her brother never told her what he did to join the group and only talked about the great things he did together with his friends. [/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]Her hands trembling in nervousness and still lost in her thoughts, Leena almost did not feel the arms embracing her and hear the words filled with sorrow and pain coming from the brunette girl. "I am so sorry for your brother. I really am." [/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]Feeling the sweet and comforting embrace, Leena's eyes watered a bit. At least she got confirmation that these people really cared for her brother. That they were actually like family and looked after each other, yet she still held a bit of resentment against them. If her brother had not involved himself with these strangers, he would still be alive today. However, if that had happened she would have never connected with her brother they way they did, so she owed them at least a thank you. [/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]Before she could return the hug, the girl let go of her and continued talking. "I have no objections Rye, but we still need to give her the basic test, and also make sure she understands that currently, she will suffer while being inside."[/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]Changing her gaze to Leena, the girl, Alex gave her a reassuring smile "You won't suffer from the other people, they will most likely accept you without hesitation. It is the music you will suffer from, as long as you still possess that thing."Leena raised her eyebrows in wonder at how friendly Alex was being with her, and a smile formed on her own face.[/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]"You mean the Tie? I know... Neo would always tell me the same thing, yet he still forced me to hear his songs. I grew accustomed to the pain, after I ran out on him crying a few times." Leena let out a small chuckle and tucked a strand of loose hair behind her ear as a small blush of embarrassment appeared on her cheeks.[/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]"I guess hearing the faith he had in my strength made me want to keep listening and block out the pain. Or maybe, I...just...didn't want to disappoint him, actually." Giving both Ryan and Alex a sad smile she averted her gaze from them to the guitar standing against the wall, as a small tear ran down her face while the memories of her brother flooded her mind. [/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]Bzz. Bzz. Bzz. [/BCOLOR][BCOLOR=transparent]Leena was brought back from her memories by her phone vibrating inside of her pocket. Wiping the few stray tears off her face, she took her phone out and checked it. 'A new message?... Wait! It's from that number again...' Quickly opening the new text message, she confirmed it was from the same number that send the other one. [/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]"Did you find what you were looking for?" [/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]'Who could it be?' With that question in mind, she quickly replied, forgetting for a bit about Ryan and Alex's presence. [/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]"Yes, I did. Thank you... Whoever you are." [/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]
Leena is surprised by how fast she was given an opportunity to join NuMetal by Ryan (@Vardoger ). Though she heard rumors about the initiation process, she actually doesn't know the actual "ritual". She also feels a bit resentful of them, yet seeing how much Ryan and Alex (@Nim ) cared about her brother and the way they made her brother and her connect through music, also makes her feel grateful towards them. Yet, something bothers her and it has to do with those anonymous text messages. (@Lost-and-Bewildered )
Sometimes I feel the fear of the uncertainty stinging clear
And I can't help but ask myself how much I'll let the fear take the wheel and steer
It's driven me before, and it seems to have a vague
Haunting mass appeal
Lately I'm beginning to find that I should be the one behind the wheel
Whatever tomorrow brings, I'll be there
With open arms and open eyes, yeah
Whatever tomorrow brings, I'll be there, I'll be there
So if I decide to waiver my chance to be one of the hive
Will I choose water over wine and hold my own and drive, oh oh
It's driven me before, and it seems to be the way
That everyone else gets around
Lately, I'm beginning to find that when I drive myself, my light is found
Whatever tomorrow brings, I'll be there
With open arms and open eyes, yeah
Whatever tomorrow brings, I'll be there, I'll be there
Would you choose water over wine... hold the wheel and drive?
Whatever tomorrow brings, I'll be there
With open arms and open eyes, yeah
Whatever tomorrow brings, I'll be there, I'll be there
I never got the chance to read them. "Oh." Rye responded in a sort of stunned silence. He must've really been off his game. Of course she hadn't read them yet, she had only gotten them a few hours ago! What was he thinking?
He wasn't thinking, he surmised. That seemed to be par for the course for him lately. He didn't know what he would do without Alex steering him in the right direction all the time. Sometimes he wondered why he didn't just make her the leader. She'd probably do a much better job. It was a thought that was re-affirmed when Alex hugged Leena.
Ryan's eyelids lowered and he looked away, shoving his heands in his pockets and leaning back a bit as the girls conversed. It made him feel a bit bad about the whole tradition of the beat-in.
They used to not do it, as Nausicaa, but then one bad apple changed his views on it and he and Rachel decided it was the best deterrent to people who weren't serious about membership and clefs. Though, he wondered if some clefs hadn't gone for it anyway.
Beating someone in was a shared experience. It sucked, and it brought everyone in the gang together. Without it, there weren't as strong familial bonds. But in the same vein, surely the esprit de corps could be achieved some other way.
His head popped up when he heard Leena's phone vibrate, however. He pulled his hands from his pockets and crossed them over his chest instead, watching her text back whoever it was while she was in front of them. Rye's first thought was that it was a bit rude, but his mind wandered to the fact that it was possible Leena was after joining a gang for another reason. There was no guarantee she didn't work for the clefs, afterall.
Once he thought Leena was done texting, he cocked his head to the side as he began to explain. "It's a beat-in. The tradition is that in order to join a gang, you have to show your loyalty by not fighting back while a few of us hit you. It isn't fun and it is very hard. It hurts a lot. Are you up for that?"
tl;dr:
Rye watches @Nim and @CaribbeanGirl and is a bit introspective. Then the dialogue.
As Aren explained how he'd picked up his particular talent, Rae nodded along, listening for any inconsistencies or interesting facts that might make him an asset. He mentioned meeting all sorts of interesting people, day or night. She wondered who these sorts were, and if a place like this would benefit the gang. Soren used to be her go-to guy for those types of connections with his work at the docks, but since he'd left they'd been struggling to keep those kind of business relationships going. Stealing glances around the darkly lit bar, she tried to get a feeling for the clientele Aren handled. Her attention was pulled back to the conversation when Aren tried to make it about her.
"I'm just a glorified middleman," she laughed, not wanting to divulge too much personal information just in case things didn't go well. "I'm sorry to hear about your previous job--what did you say it was?--but you seem to fit in well here."
Stealing glances around the darkly lit bar, she tried to get a feeling for the clientele Aren handled. Unfortunately, with it being late at night on a Monday, she didn't have many people to observe. Maybe a few regulars and a couple groups of young adults, but nothing that struck her as a replacement to the transient dock workers that would smuggle instruments for them.
"So, tell me more. What kind of interesting sorts do you get to meet here?" She went to take another sip from her glass, but thought better of it and quickly added on, "And just what sort of person did you father raise you to be?"
Those two questions would possibly give Rae enough to go off of--to see if she could trust this new guy enough to be upfront with him. He didn't seem dumb or naive, but Rae couldn't tell if he was aware that she was the one sent to interview him. If he was aware, he'd so far played things off pretty well.
Aren watched the woman out of the corner of his eye at all time, though he still couldn't understand why she was looking around so much. At least she kept her attention on their conversation. Not that it helped him much; she seemed quite tight-lipped and too cautious to give him any ground. Was she suspecting him or someone else in the bar? The bartender glanced around just to check, but the bar was almost empty except for a few familiar faces that he knew didn't work tomorrow.
Suddenly, Aren froze completely thrown off by her innocent comment. 'Fit in? FIT IN? From all the places in this world I fit in here? With these drunkards that can't even stay true to their wives? With these women doing drugs, because they refused to go out there and face their problems?' Aren just gaped like a fish for a moment, completely stunned by the blunt statement. It stung his pride, it hurt his self-esteem far more than anything he could remember right now. At this point he was sure the woman must have noticed his surprise and he wasn't even going to try to cover it, but he wouldn't explain it ether, "I-I used to work at a museum as a tour guide.. I always found history quite attractive.."
The woman just kept going like nothing happened and for a second Aren wondered if she was too dense to note his tiny slip up. He quickly dismissed the idea as too unlikely - she probably just pretended to keep his defenses down. But he knew better than that. Her questions seemed to concern not just him, apparently his work place also had a part in the grand scheme, he just couldn't figure out why. Did she think he had a dangerously close connection to this kind of public? Did she believe he could tell on them to people like these? Or perhaps she wanted to gain something from his access to such crowds?
"Most customers in here aren't the type of people you would want to meet. Not because they are dangerous or anything, but because they don't know their own limits and drink till they can't stand. The more decent ones come by in the morning or at lunch time, since we also serve some food, and that's about it," Aren explained back in his monotone, since he wasn't completely over the insult, "I believe, my father raised a mannered son that keeps away from trouble and can hold his mouth shut."
It was quite a simple statement, yet it brought some of his confidence back and he event met the woman's stare with his own serious one. He had no more to say to her, not until she offered something in return. Aren had no more reason to trust her, than she did him. Though, by now he was absolutely certain she was the gang member to question him, there really wasn't anyone else who would bother to get to know him better, yet keep him in the dark.
Summary:[spoili]Aren answers the woman's questions, though one of her statements insults him. He tries to guess her motives and decided not to budge any further until he gets some answers. [/spoili]
Rae nodded--a mannered son who kept his mouth shut? While that might just be a description he thought she wanted to hear, it really did seem to follow. Aren had been pleasant enough to indulge her in conversation despite her rudeness earlier, and any explanations he did give quickly got to the point. She'd interviewed prospective members before, and many suffered diarrhea of the mouth, as if the more they said the more likely they'd be accepted. Aren kept his answers focused, which Rae liked. As for keeping away from trouble…
"Ah, then your father must've warned you about people like me," she joked and disengaged from his eye contact, giving the nearly empty room one last look. Yeah, this would work--she'd make this work. "I'm not going to ask you to shit where you eat. You're not part of this yet. But I've liked what I've heard, and if you're serious about this…"
Rae dug into her jacket pocket, procuring a pen and a small, crumpled slip of paper. She tore it in half, then wrote down a cell number on one of the slips of paper. She pushed the two pieces of paper and the pen toward Aren.
"My name is Rae. That's my cell. When are you off the clock tonight? We can talk in-depth then. You pick the place, as a show of good faith. Just write down the address and I'll meet you there?"
She hoped he'd take the offer. As much as it was true that she didn't like putting those she interviewed in danger of losing their job, she also didn't like putting herself at risk of being overheard by their customers and employers.
Ryan, NuMetal leader and librarian at Musica Central, wakes up late after trying (and failing) to plan a Jack. NuMetal's inventory is running precariously low.
Rachel, Electronica leader and assistant to Lotario (the County Treasurer), has to give a presentation for a youth financial literacy outreach program at Musica Central. She begins just as Ryan arrives late to work.
In a highly convenient sequence of events, Akira (NuMetal and daycare worker), Fritz (highschooler), Nadia (Elec and legal intern), and Alex (Nu and kindergarten aid) all arrive at the library at approximately the same time.
Alex had gone to the library to return an overdue book, which Rye forgave earlier. She left promptly when she spotted a bunch of kids and another Nu. On her way out, she dissed Rae and Nadia.
Once seeing the Nus, Nadia flips them the bird, which ends up starting a fight due to Rye's short temper. Rye leads the lost student Fritz to Rachel, publicly embarrassing her by stealing her hairtie before going to help Akira deal with Nadia, who is concurrently pissing off small innocent children. A frustrated Rachel follows Ryan, who is also followed shortly thereafter by Fritz. Fritz recognizes Nadia from school and deducts that the people fighting are gang members.
After a most grievous insult given by Rachel, Ryan punches her in the face in retaliation, breaking her nose.
Amara, an undercover clef in NuMetal, has a fake daytime job as a nanny. She goes to the library for some children's books and arrives in the middle of the gang fight. She manages to defuse the situation just as a clef, Lawrence Faulkner, comes in. He plays ignorant that the situation is handled, but in reality he recognizes Amara and decides to stay out of it. Amara and Nadia go outside to help Rae take care of her nose while Lawrence leaves and gets chinese takeout for himself. Fritz says he will see Nadia in school.
About this time, Leena gets a mysterious text to check out the library. She witnesses the end of the fight and tries to get Rye away by rudely asking to check out some books about gangs. Rye recognizes her and writes a secret note to her telling her to come to NuMetal HQ later.
After everyone is settled down, Alex goes to NuMetal HQ. Rye follows after closing the library. Amara also goes via public transport, leaving her car at the library. Once Rye arrives, he tries to research the jack again, but decides to procrastinate instead and go outside to play guitar. Alex chastises his carelessness just as Leena arrives. They have a short discussion about her dead brother, Neo, who was Rye's best friend in Nausicaa. Neo died while Rye was in prison.
Aren, an undercover clef, moonlights as a worker at a club. He meets with someone he knows is a gang member to hopefully be inducted into Electronica. That person ends up being Rachel.
Olympia sleeps in and misses classes and the whole library debacle. When she wakes up, she goes to the Mean Bean for coffee. She arrives just as Nadia does for the same reason. Nadia and Jett (an Elec who works at the Mean Bean and was tasked to do the beat-in for Aren) talk over coffee.
I keep a close watch on this heart of mine
I keep my eyes wide open all the time
I keep the ends out for the tie that binds
Because you're mine, I walk the line
I find it very, very easy to be true
I find myself alone when each day is through
Yes, I'll admit that I'm a fool for you
Because you're mine, I walk the line
Because you're mine, I walk the line
You've got a way to keep me on your side
You give me cause for love that I can't hide
For you I know I'd even try to turn the tide
Because you're mine, I walk the line
Because you're mine, I walk the line
Because you're mine, I walk the line
Because you're mine, I walk the line
Because you're mine, I walk the line
It was a few years ago.
Soren was a customs inspector at one of the docks.
His job was simple:
Go through ship manifests and figure out which ones seemed suspicious. Then, after a few promotions, he also led inspections of the suspicious ships.
One day, a woman approached him. That woman changed his life. Her name was Rachel, and she thought Soren was an easy to please idiot. Lucky for her, he was.
But that was then.
It started out as a simple bribe. It wasn't anything special on the surface. Plenty of people had tried to bribe him before. But her cargo was different. A bunch of furniture, the manifest had said. But it was so much more. Pianos, tubas, harps, big musical instruments which were undoubtedly hard to hide. It piqued his interest. He stayed quiet about her affairs. She got her supplies.
But then he started to wonder: Why?
The shipments went on. When other customs inspectors were on shift, he'd warn her, and she could correctly time her shipments. His curiosity got the better of him, though. Who has a use for so many instruments? Why even bother with them? Music was annoying even if it weren't illegal. So he wanted in. And because of his important role with the gang, he didn't suffer through the beat-in.
Soren knew he was special. He stuck to Rachel, and it was no surprise when he realized he had to make her his.
As a member of Electronica (and quite high-ranking, he pictured himself), he was privileged with plenty of information. Information that made him incredibly angry with the NuMetals, and Ryan specifically.
To him, it seemed as if Rye was a petulant child with a crush, trying to get Rachel's attention by picking on her. Even make a whole rival gang because he was too stupid to just come out and admit Rachel was the woman he loved. Eventually, Soren grew tired of what seemed like the endless complaining about "The Rye Problem." He suggested the only sane thing: kill him.
They were rival gangs. Gangs got violent. There was no reason it couldn't be done. People died all the time. It was quick, it was easy, it would solve the Rye Problem and probably dissolve the NuMetals. It'd pull the thorn out of the Elecs' side once and for all.
But Rachel would not have it.
Soren continued to try and convince her, but eventually she got frustrated and booted him out of the gang. Just like that. She wouldn't even go to the dock to bribe him anymore. Soren thought it was all a bit ridiculous. Maybe Rachel actually liked playing cat and mouse with the NuMetal idiot? Maybe she still had feelings for him?
That just would not do.
Soren continued to watch Rachel for a while. He had to keep tabs on her. Keep her safe. Eventually he recognized he had been right all along, and the only way to keep Rachel safe, safe from herself even, and get her to accept him, would be to do what he had suggested countless times before: kill Ryan.
But he had to do it in a certain way. If he just did it, Rachel would never forgive him. But if he did it the right way, surely she would see the light, the clouds would part her confusion, and she'd run into his arms, recognizing Soren knew best.
Rachel had been wrong all along: he was not dumb. He was not a simple man.
He'd been bored. Customs inspections were trying. Rachel was the light he needed to get the gears in his head working again. He'd somehow turned his brain off. Had no passion. But Rachel and her rivalry with Rye was the switch needed to turn his brain back on. Bring his passion and motivation back.
That was why he didn't take the easy way out and inform the clefs or turn any of the gang members in. No. He was neck-deep in this, and he was going to pull himself, and Rachel, out of all of it. Completely legally. And what better way to do that than become a clef himself?
Cut to now.
He'd gone through the academy and passed with flying colors. He was what every newbie wished they could be: perfect. Well, he didn't like to brag about himself, but he had accolades, and for all intents and purposes, he was a cut, well-read, fully able clef rookie that everyone assumed would climb the ranks quickly. Soren had been a well-to-do customs inspector who decided he needed some excitement in his life. No one knew of his involvement in the Elecs or his one true goal once he procured his license to kill.
He didn't need a mentor to show him the ropes, but all the same, the clef organization deemed it important he shadowed someone for at least the first day on the job. And today, as it so happened, was Soren's first actual day on duty. Dressed in a sharp black vest, trousers, and a white undershirt rolled up just above his elbows, the 24 year old was introduced to his mentor for the day and possibly for the foreseeable future.
"You are Silas Morales?" Soren asked, his brows raising as his eyes looked through his thick rimmed glasses and down his nose at the older man.
While they both were dressed impeccably, Silas's hair was a mess. An antithesis to Soren's, which was expertly slicked back. Already forming negative opinions of the officer in his mind, he continued on.
"I'm the rookie assigned to you. They said you're one of the best?" Only the best in the org for the best of the academy, he thought. But already he was assuming that if Morales was really the best, then it wouldn't be long til Soren surpassed him.
Summary
Soren was a customs inspector for the docks. He fell in love with Rachel when she bribed him and he spent a brief time in the Elecs before being thrown out for insisting he kill Ryan. He still stalks Rachel sometimes, but ultimately joined the clefs so he could kill Rye "the right way" and make Rachel fall in love with him. He's assigned to shadow Silas (@Phi Chisym) after graduating the academy with honors. He was told Morales was one of the best. Soren so far doesn't think too highly of Morales, based on his hair.
This isn't me.
This isn't my country.
And I am not real.
Man isn't that something?
I'm not an American soldier.
And I don't feel a need to control her.
But I'm stronger now.
There are consequences
to my vision.
Just don't count on my indecision
This isn't a curse.
This isn't a feeling.
A thin coat of paint
just isn't concealing.
And you're finding out
life is more than mediocre ambition
and colour television.
I'm not
going undercover.
'Cause I do
electrically love her.
But we're not
American soldiers:
Top secret
killer destroyers.
But I'm stronger now.
There are consequences
to my vision.
Just don't count on my indecision.
Have you got the time?
This isn't my voice
asking you if
I'm feeling fine.
Leena's eyes widened before narrowing quickly, watching Ryan. "You're not serious, right?"
They had been acting so supportive before. Alex had even hugged her and told her she wasn't going to be hurt by them. And now Ryan was saying they were going to beat her up in order to join the gang? "Why?"
Rye crossed his arms over his chest, his head leaning a bit to the side. He was slowly becoming more business-like. The excitement over her and her brother had passed. He'd gotten a little too into his thoughts, why they had beat-ins, why the gang even existed at all, to just let this ritual go. "Unfortunately, I'm dead serious. A few of us rough you up a bit to make sure you're dedicated to the gang. We figure it scares off most people and a lot of Clefs. You're not allowed to fight back. You just have to trust that we won't kill you. Once you can't take any more-- and it's us who decides that-- you're considered in our family, the NuMetals. We protect eachother, and help spread music around. Really, it's a small price to pay."
Leena frowned, looking to the ground and clutching her bag tightly. She was quiet for a while as she considered her options.
"You can walk away now, and we won't hurt you," Ryan interrupted her thoughts quietly.
"No," Leena responded finally, committed. "I think if I can listen to music with a Tie then a few punches shouldn't be so hard."
Rye almost laughed, proud of how confident she was. He managed to hide it and forced a shrug. "You're ready now? We can always do it later."
His gaze moved behind Leena, far off into the distance at the edge of the tree line, where he spotted Amara watching them from afar.
"Yes. I can do it now," Leena stood up straight, mentally preparing herself.
Rye looked back to Leena, heaving a sarcastic sigh. "If you insist." He was unable to hide his smirk for a precious few miliseconds before his attention turned to Amara again. He made a big motion with his arms for her to come over.
"I'm gonna have Amara beat you in," he said. "She needs the practice."
Amara was pretty close to a pacifist. He knew she would disapprove entirely, but he had seen her go off with Rachel earlier... He was feeling tired, and getting Amara to punch a girl a few times would help ease his anxiety involving the incident at the library. It was a two birds one stone situation, he figured.
"Rye," Alex put her hand on Ryan's shoulder, whispering into his ears, "Are you sure that's wise?"
Rye shrugged her off, "It'll be fine."
If he did manage to convince Amara to beat-in Leena, he knew she'd go easy on the girl. Ryan wasn't particularly against the idea of giving Leena an easy go of it.
In any case, Amara did finally come up, and it took some conjoling, but he did manage to convince her to give a few punches. They were not hard, as Rye expected, but they were more than hard enough to put Leena down on the ground. It was apparent Neo's sister had never been hurt before. Amara kept giving pleading looks to Ryan in between punches, but Ryan kept pushing her on. "Make her bleed, Amara," he instructed, trying to be emotionless as possible about the situation.
Amara's posture signalled defeat, and she looked back to Leena, who was currently on her hands and knees, gritting her teeth with her hands curled into fists while trying not to cry out. Amara gave a swift, precisely aimed, kick under Leena's chin, resulting in the girl biting her lip and causing it to bleed without too much force.
Leena couldn't resist the tears anymore after being knocked, and Amara glared at Ryan again, waiting for his approval. "Good enough for me," the gang leader noted.
Amara kneeled down and helped the girl up, hugging her. "I'm so sorry," she whispered. "It'll be okay."
She let go of Leena and hunted through her purse, grabbing a few tissues and handing them to the girl, whose face was already beginning to swell up. Amara had concentrated most of the hits to her gut in order to save Leena's face, but the hit to the chin was all she could think of in the moment to get blood with the least bit of effort.
Leena wiped her tears and eyes with the tissues first before she moved it to her chin and lip. This was awful. But it was quick, and not as bad as she had expected. Her teary eyes went from Amara to Alex, who had just stood by and watched.
"Welcome to the NuMetals, Little River." Rye forced a smile, stealing Leena's attention away from Alex. He only seldom enjoyed beating up people, but this was not one of those times.
He turned and escorted them all inside the HQ, telling Amara to show Leena around and to explain how her new life was going to work.
Once they were out of earshot, he turned to Alex and gave a genuine sigh, his cheerful facade leaving him.
"I need help," he admitted. "We're almost out of inventory and I got no leads for a jack."
He started walking to his office, expecting Lexii to follow. Once they were inside and he closed the door, he continued. "We're also almost out of money. I don't know what to do, Lexii. If we don't get more stuff, more clients, more members, anything. We're done for."
Maybe that was why he had been so careless lately.
Summary
Leena becomes a Nu. Rye forces Amara (@InnocentThorns) to do the beat-in. He tells Amara to go show Leena around, then confesses to Alex (@Nim) that the gang is on its deathbed if something doesn't happen soon.
Last Friday, Mark had met with a law firm to discuss the disgusting problem he was having with a certain reality TV star stealing his shit. Living on the border of the Dream Chord was both a blessing and a curse. His property was loomed over by the towering mansions of the idols of society, but he got to have a fair bit of his own land. He'd lived there his whole life. His family was born and died there. It was pretty much a shack by now, but he'd built a nice greenhouse in the back and he'd been importing some pretty neat plants to go into it that he looked after.
His immediate neighbor was a 100 acre landowner. It was maybe her second property or something, because she wasn't around often. The land was taken care of well enough with hired help, but he knew when the real owner was in because she brought with her paparazzi, whose cameras and questions he could see and hear over the flat land for miles. She was Lynda Cardigan, third generation millionaire of Chasing the Cardigans fame. And over the past 10 or so years, when Mark had taken up the botanist hobby, she hadn't been any trouble. Hell, they'd never even met for as long as they'd both lived there.
But recently, his plants were disappearing from his green house. What, did she think he wouldn't notice? That he wouldn't care? Those plants were his babies. His incredibly rare, expensive, babies. And some bitch who didn't even know how to water plants (probably) was ripping them out of his green house. There were so many questions, but the predominate one was: WHY?
So he'd gone to the law firm to discuss suing her. Of course, at first, they didn't believe him. Why would someone want to sue a Cardigan? Why would a Cardigan steal plants (the golden question, really)? Why would some old man even have anything to do with Cardigans at all? But eventually, after he proved where he lived, and where her property was, it all came together. But the law office had to "look into it." And it was Friday afternoon, so obviously, this "looking" wouldn't even begin to happen until Monday.
Well Monday came and went, and Mark received no phone call. Now it was Tuesday and he was sitting in his bookstore, Lydian Ledgers & Tomes, his old combat boots propped up against the ancient cash register and a TV remote in his hand. He flipped through channels on the tiny set on the side counter, trying to find something to get his mind off his frustration. As he was flipping through, he stopped briefly on some re-run of the show, featuring- you guessed it- Lynda fucking Cardigan, Lynda the Looter, stealer of his Purple Speckled Pom Pom trees.
He dropped his boots to the floor with a scowl, turning the TV off and tossing the remote on the counter, signing to the TV "Bitch" quickly, his right hand in a B shape going from his chin toward the TV before walking over to the middle of the store and deciding to empty the trash from the reading/hangout area. He always put that off because teenagers would inevitably throw away their coffees from Mean Bean, still half full. Who threw away liquid? Honestly?! It was always a pain.
It was a sort of annoyance that normally he'd take as a price for dealing with the wonders of learning new things (which he generally enjoyed), but today he was already pissed off about the whole Thieving Lynda situation.
Not only his babies, and expensive, and rare, and hard to get, but he had also been collecting their pollen. Pollen which, by the way, was also super hard to get. While the Purple Speckled Pom Poms looked like they bloomed year-round with their fake-looking spiky purple fluffballs, in actuality they only germinated about once a year on very specific days that were equally or probably even more frustrating and difficult to determine than trying to get Giant Pandas to mate, those lazy, inconsiderate, nobody-knows-why-they-aren't-extinct-yet pieces of crap. The pandas, obviously. His Pom Poms were too precious for this world.
Which was why them being in the hands of a famous for being famous Lynda made it all the more outrageous! Mark finally managed to pull a black bag from the trash can and lifted his fist up at the ceiling, shaking it in self-contained fury at his situation. "Maybe I should get my own reality show!" he proclaimed to a corn plant acting as a centerpiece to one of the tables.
At least the plants didn't think he was crazy.
With a grunt, he kicked the trash can over and dragged the bag across the carpet toward the back door to throw it out. It, as predicted, left a trail of old coffee. Mark tried to ignore it, thinking to himself that nobody cared about the carpet. At least his books were fine. "More stuff to complain about to you guys," he said as he passed by another potted plant. "The more talking I do, the greener you get, less stressed I am, good for ev'rybody," he continued.
Finally out the door, he threw the bag into the dumpster he shared with the Mean Bean.
He both loved and hated the Mean Bean.
It was great to have kids to talk to, and Mr. Black was an okay guy for a neighbor. But it was a punch to his ego when droves and droves of people walked right past his shop without even a passing glance. "Nobody likes to learn anymore," he sighed, walking back to his shop, which generally didn't even begin to have a very slow crawl of activity until the afternoon... On a good day. He wondered if anyone ever wondered how he stayed in business. "Ego and hard will," he signed to himself.
Leaving the back door open, he picked up a watering can just inside of the exit and began to water a tree that was next to the roped off stairs. "If it weren't for that thief, maybe I'd have enough to recreate the DJ by now," he told the tree. "The only Pom Pom I got left is here and it's starting to open up. I only needed a little more."
Funny story. Like 30 years ago he was into science, not botany. He had phases. When he was just a helper for the office furniture store, the owner was going deaf. They decided to learn sign language together to make it easier to communicate. Well that got Mark into learning about deafness. And then curing deafness. He never did cure deafness. But he got pretty close. He learned about these weird plants that interacted strangely with poisonous animals. One thing led to another and, well, he made this thing that cured Reformed people. He himself had been Reformed, having been in and out of prison in his youth. Now, he could hear everything just fine thanks to the serum he invented. He had called it the DJ because D-J was fun to sign and, he didn't know, whatever. It just came to him.
But he had only had enough for himself and like 1 other person, maybe. How the whole thing came about was rather unexpected and sort of accidental, so he didn't have a lot of it on hand when it spontaneously came into existence. And then the DJ was lost pretty much the second he shared the news. He wasn't quite sure what happened. One minute he's excitedly proclaiming his miracle to his employer, who didn't really understand(something about 'why would you pour a strange mysterious possibly toxic substance into your ear'), and by the end of the day his place was ransacked, the DJ gone, and the owner very ill.
Things didn't add up, but he'd let it go. It wasn't the first time he'd run afoul with the law, and he knew when to just play it straight and not bring up a fuss. So he had. For, like, 10 years. But then he decided that botany was good for a lot more than magic Reformed-healing solutions, and he started up the whole thing again. It'd taken a lot of time and he'd been collecting Pom Pom pollen for several years, even though he never really made the goal of recreating the DJ again until recently.
He figured, he was getting pretty old now. He'd lived a rather full life. Maybe it was time he gave the Metallica one last hoorah. If he could pair up with the right people, he could mass produce the DJ and then maybe his bookstore could have a smooth jazz soundtrack. Or maybe his funeral would. If he even had one. He was a nobody. But that was ok. He was proud of what he'd done with his life so far.
"Wonder what that kid is doing these days," he said to the tree as he noticed his door was still open. Turning to close it, he continued the conversation with his store's plants. "What was his name? White bread? Whole? Something wheaty..."
Closing the door, he walked back up to his counter and watered his Purple Speckled Pom Pom tree. The only one he had left. "Train gone" he signed with his free hand to the tree as he watched the water pour into the pot. Although, one-handed, the idiom was nearly incomprehensible.
When he was done, he'd have to do something to clean up the liquid on the carpet. And replace the trash bag.
Maybe.
If he felt like it.
"Should probably hire a helper to do all the stuff I don't feel like doing," he sighed.
Mark is an old punk whose super rare plants are being stolen by the famous Lynda Cardigan from the reality show Chasing the Cardigans. He's angry about how the law firm he contacted about it hasn't contacted him yet. He signs to himself and talks to his plants this morning while the bookstore is empty.
Takes out the trash while leaving a trail of liquid on the floor. The trash can is tilted over and he has not replaced the bag.
He talks to a tree about how he could've replicated the DJ, which can be overheard through the open backdoor to the shared dumpster with the Mean Bean.
He relents he should probably hire some help for stuff he doesn't want to do.
30 some years ago, he created the DJ, but it was only enough for 1 or 2 doses, 1 of which he used on himself and the others disappeared. He recently has thought of making it again and possibly mass producing it, but the stolen plants are wrecking his plans, as a key component of the DJ is a rare pollen that is hard to collect.
Aren carefully listened to what the woman had to say, watching her movements as a hawk. She still looked around before speaking and he was starting to find it amusing. Apparently, her name was Rae, more likely a nickname, and she wanted him in the gang. Good, that was the first and most important step in his mission. The bartender glanced at the papers pushed towards him, to the clock below the counter and back to the woman, "I have 10 minutes left, then I shall be good to go..." uncertainty crept into his voice at the end and he didn't know how to continue. He didn't really know the time-frame he was given to work with.
"Do you work tomorrow? If you do, when do you start?" Aren asked the most troubling question first while stuffing the phone number inside his black vest. "You see, there is this bookshop that I know, where I'd like to search for certain books. I believe it could be the ideal place for a meeting as it isn't very crowded, so there's little chance for eavesdropping and other unfortunate events. Sadly, it only opens up at nine in the morning." Aren calmly explained, toying with the pen in one hand, unsure if he should write down the address. Honestly, he would love to get home, have a shower and some rest first. Meeting her with a clearer head could potentially benefit his cause.
Perhaps taking her to the tiny old-fashioned shop could help him in more than one way. If she was a gang member, then she might now something about their roots. While very unlikely, she might even be connected with them. But Aren was getting carried away; it was just as likely that she wasn't even aware of their existence. There was no harm in asking, probably.. Or he could get her interested and help him research these past events everyone seems to sweep under the rug.
Summary:[spoili]Aren takes the phone and asks about Rae's working hours. He also suggest visiting a bookstore in the morning.[/spoili]
Rae's eyebrows knotted upward when Aren asked about her work schedule for tomorrow, as if she didn't quite comprehend. At first she wondered if this was his polite way of brushing her off, and she struggled to find her voice. However, he then mentioned something about a bookshop, and her focus came back to the present. She listened intently to his description of the bookshop, and his reasoning for choosing it.
"Th-that'd be fine," she stammered. "9am is fine, any time tomorrow is fine. ...What's the shop's name?"
Rachel tried to hold a smile. While Musica had a handful of bookshops, there was one in particular that she avoided: Lydian Ledgers and Tomes. It wasn't out of any animosity for the place, and she'd only seen the owner in passing. However, she'd known it as a place that Rye once frequented, and like the library, she'd written it off as another taboo location. Even being in the Mean Bean left her feeling uneasily close to the building, and she'd avoid the area altogether when she could.
So, Rae wondered, what were the chances that someone interested in music and gangs would also be a fan of this particular shop? Still, she'd been the one to hand over the choice of location to Aren, and she wasn't about to try to override his decision.
@Giltine13 Rae initially thinks Aren is brushing her off, but then realizes he is not. When he mentions a bookshop, Rae wonders if he's referring to the same bookshop that comes to her mind: Lydian Ledgers and Tomes. She doesn't have history with the place, she simply prefers to stay out of the area, knowing the NuMetal leader used to frequent the place.
Cleaned up, Nadia had headed to the other library and had peacefully shoved both children's and gardening books into her bag. Now, she still intended to go to the Mean Bean to pick up a last run of coffee to butter up the partners, but ...
Pep talk.
It was a request from Rae, and Nadia hated not doing what Rae asked, particularly when there had been that slight "Or ... I don't know," which was pretty much as good as a direct challenge to her abilities to be encouraging. (To be fair, she had none, but a challenge was a challenge.)
She could worm her way around it by not bringing coffee, but she knew how the partners worked. A half day gone and very little to show? Entirely bypassed if she shoved a coffee in their faces (hands, she reminded herself; smile on face). And, really, if she had to stumble through a conversation with an Elec or the firm, she'd pick an Elec any day.
Still, she didn't want this. She just wanted to do the beat-in and be over with it. Why even ask someone else to do it? She was perfectly capable of doing it. All of them. Any of them. It wasn't that she relished it (not exactly, anyway, well, maybe). But there was something immensely satisfying to flicking someone else's blood off her fist. Oh, she was careful (she wouldn't do anything that would seriously risk her ability to play her cello). But there was a thrill to it all. Like with Jacks. It was the raw experience of it. Take down the done-up hair and the face society required. Stripped down to bare survival. Someone thought they could infiltrate the Elecs? No way. She'd beat that out of them.
And if others weren't willing to do it, weren't willing to raise their hand to make sure they kept away anyone unsure about committing? Crazy. They'd withstood it to get in, and they knew why they withstood it when they joined the Elecs. So what was it that made people forget why it was necessary between the time they joined and the first beat-in they dished? Did they think they had machines that did the dirty work? Did they think they were too good to be a real Elec?
Which, perhaps, was why when Jett had tossed her a light-hearted greeting, she had smacked it down with a caustic, "You're the one that's 'shakin'.'"
Shit. No. Well... did it count as a pep talk if she just goaded someone into determination? Even if it did, she was still in society even if Jett was a fellow Elec, and she was prone to letting the mask fall. Mean Bean was situated close enough to the office any random passerby might as well be treated as a witness who reported her comings and goings. Even just as an intern, she had to maintain the face of the firm, especially if she was going to actually play a role in the upcoming trial. There was no way she they were sidelining her again, even if she had to come up with botanical jargon to make sure she stayed relevant.
Summary: [spoili] Nadia gets to Mean Bean and attempts to pep talk Jett (@Lost-and-Bewildered), but she's pretty much the worst at it. Don't hire Nadia as your next motivational speaker[/spoili]
The boy laughed good-naturedly at Nadia's reaction, straightening again to brush down his apron with his hands. He shouldn't laugh really, she was pissed at him for sure, but there was something about the intensity of her anger at such a playful greeting that really tickled him. This was why he'd always gotten into fights as a kid, he had a bad habit of laughing in irate faces.
"Oh sure, I'm shaking in my boots now, you've wounded me deeply miss!" he replied, pretending to swoon at her rebuttal. "What can I get you ma'am? Something to cool you down, maybe? I might even add some extra chocolate sprinkles, cos I like you so much Nads." Jett leaned over and switched on the coffee maker, since it was going to take a few millennia to heat up anyway. When he returned to the counter, he pretended to focus on the till as he muttered "Seriously Nadia, I know what you're doing. We can't all be sadists, but just because I don't want to do it doesn't mean I won't. I'm doing this because I believe it's worth making sacrifices for and this is just another necessary evil. Kinda like you, you wonderful nutcase." Pausing to wink so she knew he meant well, he took a closer look at his friend. She looked a little strained and unusually dishevelled, normally there wasn't a hair out of place but today something was…off.
"Lovely quiet day huh? You doing anything nice today? Besides fetching coffee and enjoying my company, of course."
Nadia simply glared at Jett's antics. It was a good thing she liked him. Mostly. And was willing to tolerate his cheeriness. A little bit. "Good to hear you'll do it," she allowed as evenly as possible, mostly because she knew Jett didn't deserve her earlier response even if he was ... the way he was.
"But don't you think I want to do this shit. Because this whole thing --" the Tie, the Clefs, the Nus "-- is bullshit. And talking about shits," Nadia leaned in as well, "Rye threw a punch at Rae and deserves everything that's coming for him." Which was to say, perhaps, she intended to dish it back, and she very much expected every Elec to dish it back. And if they didn't, well, there was that little glint of a threat in the arch of her eyebrow. This was basic shit, even easier to understand than the necessity of wailing on a future gang mate.
She straightened herself, raising her volume to normal coffee-ordering levels. "One regular Iron Bru, one with cream no sugar, one with a half serving of sugar, and one decaf with soy, but hold the fucking sprinkles," she rattled off. If she found sprinkles in the drinks for the firm's partners, she was seriously going to shove them up his ass Elec or not. That was about the level of tolerance she had really. "And how are you, this lovely quiet day? Still think you're going to solve all the world's problems with ground up beans?"
Aren was taken aback by Rae's sudden uncertainty - she looked a little lost, or perhaps uncomfortable. Was it something he said? The bartender was trying to be polite and it didn't seem like he did anything across the line. Either way she gave him an affirmative and that was all it mattered. So he settled the pen against the paper scribbling on the address as he answered her.
"I believe it is called Lydian Ledgers & Tomes. I personally haven't been there, but I have heard that they have certain books you won't find anywhere else." Only after the words slipped out of Aren's mouth did he realize it probably would make her only more nervous. So quickly he tried to amend himself, "It's okay if you'd prefer to go somewhere else, I don't mind.."
Aren's foot was silently tapping again; it seemed he was pretty nervous himself. He'd still need to visit that shop, even if they didn't go there together. But would he have enough time after whatever, wherever chat they had? Was it actually necessary for him to be allowed inside the gang? He didn't see any point in conversation - so far it looked way too easy. Could it be a trap? Did she figure him out already? He could hear his heart pounding in his ears, barely stifled a gasp at that thought. Aren slowly lifted his head from the small paper to regard the woman in front of him.
'Did I underestimate her?'
Summary:[spoili]Aren gives the location of Lydian Ledgers & Tomes bookshop to Rae, but also offers her the freedom to change it. He also starts fearing that Rae seen through his disguise.[/spoili]
