Kali
The Ravnos has just put her phone away after speaking with Lux, still looking...shall we say, a little less than pleased over the news of one of the Anarchs lost. She didn't know him personally, but she liked what she knew of him. And Lux liked him, a lot. Yeah, there's gonna be some payback if at all possible.
She looks around the designated meeting place. A lot of people wouldn't choose stereotypical meeting places for such clandestine meetings. Kali likes stereotypical. No one thinks anyone is dumb enough to choose darkened alleyways, junkyards, nearly-abandoned diners, crack houses. Kali isn't dumb enough to; she's smart enough to. Because there's a reason these are all cliche; they work. And people don't tend to think of them when trying to find people.
Tonight she's doubled down, and chosen the back alley behind a house where she knows heroin addicts to squat. She knows they're all pretty much out of their minds at this point, and they're not exactly within earshot of the inside anyway. She doesn't smoke at this moment; instead just waits in the darkness. Her trusty gun is at her back in easy reach as she watches, waits.
Nobody
[Oh, right. The Mask.]
Dice: 8 d10 TN6 (2, 3, 6, 6, 7, 8, 8, 10) ( success x 6 )
Nobody
Nobody is good at hiding. He is very good at hiding, at Seeming Other Than He Is. Very few, if any, really know Jack, what Jack wants, what makes Jack get up at night besides general thirstiness. He often seems kind, polite, truthful, and he is. But Jack is still very good at hiding, and it is rare that he seems mad. This is not one of those rare times, but it is a time when Nobody is hidden deeply, more deeply than is usual even for him. This Face is no face that Kali has seen before: a blonde woman in her middle age, strung-out and emaciated, paring away into nothing, a woman who might've been lovely once but has since lost all grace, eyes too big for such a thin face, mouth of a shape that doesn't quite match the jawline, an unattractive slouch. She looks like she is going to dissolve away, looks like one of those pictures from the Depression given shape, plain Jane on crack.
Jack doesn't often take the time to look like a woman. He doesn't like it. But tonight, he decides that it's camouflage. Or maybe he was thinking about a woman and he can't quite shape her into the woman he remembers, so this ugly diminished version of her is what he gets.
Either way, there's a thin blond woman who probably looks very much like 'she'd' fit in around here coming toward Kali. The walk is different, swaying.
"Hello," Jack says. The voice is a woman's too, but 'lest there be any doubt (and there should be [would be]), he also says, "Hypothetically speaking."
Kali
The second Kali hears footsteps, that gun is out from behind her leather jacket and pointed in the direction of the 'woman.' To be perfectly fair to our little drug dealer, she'd have the gun out and pointed no matter what who appeared right now, until she knew who she was dealing with. There's no panic in the Rroma woman, no fear. It's not a woman who's showing herself to be on edge. But for a moment, Jack sees something not a lot of people see from the Ravnos, except in just the right situations:
Someone ruthless who is not to be fucked with.
She arches an eyebrow as the woman who looks like she's been chasing the dragon for far too long. No smile, no smirk. Just an even stare, as if to suggest 'she' find another alley to do up.
And then she speaks, and she says that code word. Just like the corner of Kali's lips quirk up, though she doesn't raise the gun quite yet. "Riddle Me This, Batman. How many times have I had to start over?"
A slight cock of her head. Her fingers uncoil and rewrap around the pistol grip.
Nobody
She (he) holds up four fingers. One. Two. Three. Four. The look in her (his) eyes is tired but that might just be This Face. This Face looks like its owner was bone-tired, weary to the very middle of her marrow, whenever Jack saw her.
"You could care less about transient things," she (he) says, in an echo of what Kali said to him in the Emergency Room, back when Hawthorne was a mystery, back before Hawthorne was a mystery coming out of the fire and darkness of a siege, of a surprise, of the Ivory Tower rocked to its foundations (hubris [monsters]) as the Sabbat made their play.
"But please, in the future any hero but Batman. I don't like bats. They get into your ears."
Kali
And that's the key. The smirk becomes a smile, the barrel tilting toward the sky, and then she moves to slide it back under her jacket where it belongs, no longer threatening to rup the now-known-to-be-Nosferatu's head apart via gunpowder-delivered trauma.
"Sorry," she says with a quirk of her shoulders that is only slightly apologetic. She's clearly not talking about pointing a gun at him. "If I'd said 'Riddle Me This, Aquaman' then the joke wouldn't make sense. And I'd be implying that you're unbelievably lame."
She swipes a hand through her crimson hair, now giving one last look around. It isn't that she doesn't trust Jack, but there's always the chance someone followed them. They all have their tricks. When she looks back, she's a bit more relaxed, if not satisfied. There's no way to know for sure.
"So, again with the 'glad you made it out.' There's a TV, DVD player and a couple boxed sets sitting in my car a little ways away for you. Hope you have power at least, I didn't get an extension cord."
Nobody
He shakes his head slightly, negating the apology before he knows what it's for. He might've suspected the sorry was just one of those unnecessary things that happen in conversation. Sorry, but.
Acknowledgment of something, and then move on. Jack, for all his humanity and his conscience, has a certain way of looking at the world and other people in it and how they relate to him, and it isn't careless (quite the opposite), but it does seek to ignore the unnecessaries. He -- no. She shakes her head, lusterless hair sweeping past her (his) thin shoulders, the ends fraying and full of split-ends, like the edge of a moth's wing all torn-up, and says,
"Well I thank you for not implying such a thing."
The woman who is actually Nobody who is actually Jack offers Kali 'her' hand, a comradely-in-arms sort of gesture, deliberate and to the point. "And again, I am also glad you survived the inferno and the siege." He frowns off into a distance that has nothing to do with what he is looking at, namely the Ravnos before him, and then the woman's eyes spark with a mellow sort of laughter, a chuckle that catches in the back of his throat.
"I'll see what I can do. Thank you, or the truck whose product wasn't secure enough, for your gift." He even sounds almost solemn, thanking her for a gift, even if there's that chuckle too. Gifts are important things in the world Jack lives in, which is a world Kali lives in too although she doesn't know that the world Jack lives in is a little different from the world she sees and interacts with. Gifts are a story, not exactly a binding contract but something to touch on the old compulsion. "I'm looking forward to watching Lord Stark and applying it to our situation, or," a sigh, "just using it to think about another situation."
Kali
Situations, they are a bitch aren't they? They result in dead people, fights over poor bystanders drug into their world, actions that sear their morals and tear at their soul. The Ravnos gives a bit of a grin when Jack-ette shows his gratitude for not being equated with a superhero who is the equivalent of a sixth toe in the Justice League and shrugs it off, stepping forward and accepting the offered hand. It's a quick clasp, no squeeze; just a motion of respect and perhaps camaraderie.
"I'm like Sam Jackson in The Long Kiss Good Night. That's right...you can't kill me, muthafuckas!" Except they could have, and probably with ease if she'd been facing down something worse than a fleshcrafted and bonecrafted mortal servant. And Kali is not naive to that fact. But she lives by the skin of her teeth...again. And that's good enough for her for now.
"Oh, no truck for this one. I spent my very own money. It ain't a gift if you steal it. That's redistribution of property, and I'm not Robin or any of his hoods." She steps back again, leaning against the wall she had her back against and sighing as the Nosferatu talks about situations. "Yeah, we've got plenty of those. The Sabbat kicking down our door without so much of an 'Avon calling,' and don't forget about that whole super-ancient Gangrel poking about the city from below. Fuckin' Middle America. Whole country's gone to shit, hasn't it?"
Nobody
Jack speaks to animals and animals speak to Jack. It's one of his canny knacks, one of his tricks for surviving in this gruesome fairy tale. The animals are not kind and they are not cruel. They are animals. And they speak to him, and sometimes he tells them what to do and they do what he told them to. He has not yet heard from one brave little rat who is keeping watch on one quiet tailor underground, waiting and cleaning his gun and alone, absolutely alone, but he has heard from his Boots, his cat cavalier, his good luck charm, his burning eyes in the dark, and it's this his mind is on at first. At first.
Kali mentions the Ancient Gangrel, and Jack's attention sharpens. The Face He Is Wearing, the female body, it doesn't have his same mannerisms, there is little to recognize of Jack who is Nobody, Nobody's favourite and fortunate Jack, about it. But still, there is this heightening of attention, this sharpening of interest, which echoes across the unattractive female face. "I haven't forgotten, though," and here he pauses. Jack keeps his cards close to his chest, just as Kali keeps her cards close. "I still wish you'd tell me why you think there are two. Because everything I have heard says otherwise: rumors and portents." Briefer pause. "The other night, with Mercy and Narcisa, I thought I saw an echo, or the more ancient drama in miniature."
Kali
Jack has his animals who are his people, his little tricks and spies and sources. Kali's sources are more of the two-legged variety as a rule. Dirty cops, dealers, prostitutes...she has a little gamut of sources to get information from. But in this case, her information came from a very different source. After all, Little Hector the huge guy who works the corner four blocks down isn't going to be able to tell her anything about ancient Gangrel.
Kali considers Jack a moment as 'she' says 'she' saw something the other night. She seems to be considering, despite their comradeship, how much to share. They both play things close because while they're friendly, do they really trust each other? Can they? Perhaps their recent conflagration made such things necessary. Perhaps the severity of the threat has. Whatever the reason, she considers a long moment and then shrugs.
"Mercy said it was two. I have no idea how she knew. She said it after she licked the dirt at the lake. To clarify though, it was only one Gangrel, I think. One that was something else." The thought sparked in the back of her head, a forgotten detail. Because her player's a dork.
Nobody
Jack is a vampire and vampires are stronger willed than mortals, as a rule. But Jack tried so hard last night to do so much and he is still somewhat drained. His visions bleed through. They inform his reactions. His mind isn't spinning, but Jack it cycles through all of the different stories, putting them in order, noticing connections here then following the connections there. The siege of the Ivory Tower is a story separate from That Which Stirs Beneath, isn't it? But the world is an onion and layers overlap, touch one another. So Kali considers a long moment, then shrugs and finally grants one of Jack's wishes. Gifts and wish-granting, she is a regular Fairy on the Side of the Road right now, the Illusionist Gypsy, the Holocaust Survivor, and so what if the setting is an alley where addicts sometimes come to die choking on their own vomit looking up at that rectangle of sky.
He nods, accepting this. And then says, "How much do you know about Oliverio Giovanni?" but quietly, as if the name might conjure up a ghost (perhaps literally) to spy on the conversation. Does it get colder?
The question is asked as if he really wants to know, but also as if he is going to tell Kali why he asked.
Kali
She kind of expected follow-up questions to be honest, but she's not upset that there aren't. She still has secrets, and they may come out when they need to, but she's not just doing it to be stingy. There are certain people she's trying to protect...most notably herself.
He asks about Oliverio, and Kali snorts. She's got no love for that clan, much more than she has of the Tremere. "I know he's a Giovanni, which means that he's got all of my advantages of being from a non-Camarilla clan with none of my disadvantages. Lucky fuckers. I assume he's some kind of creepy, sick and deranged bastard too. But outside of those, nothing most than the majority of people do. Well, I'm also smart enough not to assume he's just a nice public face of Clan Godfather, so I know that which most people probably haven't figured out."
She looks him/her over, cocks her head. "Why do you ask?" Yes, he clearly was going to say why, but it's still polite to ask. It makes the information exchange etiquette complete.
Nobody
"You could also make an argument for impeccable timing," the thin-faced woman observes, rather wryly, "considering when he went home." There is a brief pause from Jack. Briefest of pauses. Before he -- she, voice a waifish thing, something nasal to it, whose voice did he take? Did it belong to This Face? "I ask because…" He trails away, gathering his thoughts or deciding how he's going to present them, lay them out for Kali to read, which words to use which words to not use. "He was listening hard when Winthrop's Pet came bearing news and, before he left, he exchanged a look with Narcisa, who," and here, his -- her -- voice is a shade louder, the strung-out creature leaning closer to Kali in order to impart this, "I have heard has perhaps been touched by the mythic strangeness. The crow. The moon."
"It's interesting, isn't it?"
Nobody
ooc: Er. "and, before his well-timed exit the other night, he exchanged a ...look with Narcisa, who" even.
Kali
She cocks a brow, smiling with a bit of intrigue in her expression. "Did he now. And is she? Interesting." She muses on it for a long moment, considering. Maybe she's weighing how much value she could get from helping take down a Sabbat-helper. Maybe she's considering whether she can trust the information. Maybe she's just making a show of it for appearances sake, giving the illusion that it's information of value. Anything's possible.
She tosses a look down each way in the alley again and then looks back to Jack's current form. "Anything more than that? We'd need more, obviously, to give us even a lead on anything solid."
Nobody
"Oh, no," Jack says, and he -- even as a she -- is always a gentleman when it comes to these things, when it comes to the sharing of speculation and information. He has the same cadences as he'd had by the lake when there was a confluence of Ravnos, Gangrel, Nosferatu, when the biggest political news was some beside-the-point Anarch getting punked on by a Tremere, instead of a pillar of the community possibly diablerized, a Nosferatu elder confirmed traitor and killed and his own Primogen possibly turned traitor.
"As yet, no. But given how unsettled things are," and he -- she -- smiles, ruefully, "I thought I'd point out the bread crumb trail."
[Percept + Subt! Are you being all Deceive-y and Too Cool For School, Kali? What's this 'maybe' stuff?]
Dice: 7 d10 TN6 (1, 2, 2, 4, 5, 7, 10) ( success x 2 )
Kali
[[Ahh, what the hell. Man+Sub]]
Dice: 8 d10 TN6 (1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 9, 9) ( success x 3 )
Nobody
[One night I'll see through you, Missy. One night.]
Kali
She's a hard one to read, that little gypsy. She gives a little nod and a smile. "It's definitely something to keep an eye on. Little thread to pull at, see if it unravels or sticks in like a little Giovanni bitch thread might."
They're talking news, portents of doom and other such things. That brings a conversation she had just had to mind, and she frowns. "Oh. One more for the KIA pile. The Brujah Anarch, Stone." She is...not pleased about that.
Nobody
"A pity," Jack says, sounding like he means it, but also like he is not particularly surprised. "He gave a good speech; he would have been a good ally to have, I think. Were you?" Allies, he means, looking at her closely. She's a hard one to read, that illusionist, that mistress-of-chicanery and of impeccable lies, but her displeasure is written plain as vomit in the hair of a drunk.
Kali
She shakes her head. She seems upset about it, certainly. Which is not something she lets show often; this cracks through the facade. It's not the upset of someone deeply close, and certainly not the rage of someone closer than that. It's more simply the loss of someone she had a level of respect for, and perhaps who someone she knew liked. It's an expression of humanity from the Ravnos...empathy.
"Nah." She shrugs it off and smiles a bit. "But you're right, he was pretty bad-ass with that speech. Kinda had it coming, I pulled him out and apparently he decided to go back for more or something." She shrugs. She did her part. That's the best she can do, and it may even have been more than she would have done for most Camarilla that she didn't know well.
"Doesn't matter. He's not gonna be the last by a long shot. On any side."
Nobody
Jack replies to this with silence. The look in his eye --
The look in the thin, emaciated woman's eye is a distant one and introspective. As though he were laying out his own heart and judging it, considering what he might have done and what he might yet do. These skirmishes are like weather to him: and weather rules every quest, makes it easy or pleasant or the hardest thing to ever yet be done by the questant. He doesn't need to sigh, and this once, he does not, though the corners of This Face's mouth tug downward, and the slant of This Face's neck is regretful.
But he is still an optimist.
"Hear anything about the nobility?"
Kali
A little shake of the head. She'll have that cigarette she held off on now, placing it between dead, made-up lips and bringing out her little electric lighter to heat it to life. The smoke is drawn into dead lungs, slowly exhaled.
"Nothing more than I knew before. Stone's the only new name on either side of the ledger that I'm aware of." She turns her gaze back over to him, head cocking. Observing him curiously now.
"What about you? You know anyone that's living or dead that I don't?"
Nobody
"I know they're moving up and out," Jack says, and he means the nobility, the blue-bloods, "though not whether or not they've left the fray entirely, to lick their wounds, or have just taken the wise precaution of moving house. That's all, as yet. My people are scattered."
The rue is back: "As they should."
Kali
She smiles a little, perhaps sympathetically. She knows having scattered people and while she may have the same relationship with the Kindred of her kind, her feelings toward her mortal people is very different. And as such, she can relate a bit.
Ash falls to the ground, settles on the dirty alley floor as she tapes the paper tube burning between her fingers. She's quiet for a moment, eyes fixed on Jack, unblinking. Considering again. Weighing options, perhaps. That seems the likely reason when she asks:
"So what's the plan?"
As to what problem she's asking about a plan for...well, that's up in the air.
Nobody
[Is this the moment I understand you, you wily gypsy lady you?! Percept + Subt.]
Dice: 7 d10 TN6 (1, 1, 1, 3, 6, 8, 9) ( success x 3 )
Kali
[[She is a mystery! Maybe she's born with it, maybe it's a gypsy curse!]]
Dice: 8 d10 TN6 (1, 2, 4, 5, 5, 8, 9, 10) ( success x 3 )
Kali
[[One more time!]]
Dice: 8 d10 TN6 (1, 2, 3, 3, 3, 3, 7, 7) ( success x 2 )
Nobody
[Once again!]
Dice: 7 d10 TN6 (1, 1, 5, 5, 7, 8, 10) ( success x 3 )
Kali
She's playing it cool, but her mind is working a million miles a minute. He can see it in the little hints that betray her this time; the slight way her eyes twitch slightly with each though, the slight hunch of her shoulders, a little tapping of her pinky against her palm on the hand holding the cigarette.
Based on the conversation, she's probably thinking of everything on their plate, prioritizing, imagining the implications of looking into each and how far its safe to look. And where to start.
Nobody
[Abyssal Tendril of Doom #1.]
Dice: 10 d10 TN6 (1, 2, 3, 3, 4, 5, 6, 6, 9, 9) ( success x 4 )
Nobody
[#2]
Dice: 10 d10 TN6 (1, 1, 2, 5, 5, 7, 9, 9, 9, 9) ( success x 5 )
Nobody
[Domenech: :[]
Kali
[[Daaaann.]]
Kali
[[Daaaamn, rather.]]
Nobody
The thin woman who isn't a thin woman (who is a hideous monster, the kind of face not even a mother would love, the kind of nightmare face that would send anybody screaming, their nightmares scrabbling eldritch horror Lovecraft saw one once) watches Kali for an instant. If Jack were a leader of men, but then. He isn't a leader of men. He is no Everett Stone. He is no follower, per se, but he is the kind of creature who sees his own path clearly, and while he doesn't draw away from other people he has no force with them, unless it's guile. He isn't turning on the guile right now. Still. If he were a leader of men, perhaps he'd be able to lay out a plan. As it is, it takes him a moment to reply, and when he does it is perhaps no surprise that it takes a slightly more philosophical turn.
"We spoke once about leaving, about giving up the places we have carved for ourselves, so I will not speak of that again. The plan remains the same: survive, and learn, and know, and find the true way through all these perils. Avoid the perils."
She (He) smiles faintly, sadly. "And perhaps keep a close watch on The Emergency Room. Who comes. Who goes. What happens to it now."
Kali
She snorts. It's an entirely indelicate sound for a--oh, who the fuck are we kidding? Kali is a lot of things, but "delicate" is not one of them, nor is "well-behaved." Anyway, it's indelicate-sounding and the look on her face--like Jack just mentioned the old family uncle who gets drunk and makes passes at his neices at Thanksgiving--isn't any more restrained.
"I had half a mind to take several gallons of gasoline over to that shithole, strap a pipe bomb to them and leave a long enough wick to run out," she says dryly. She isn't one of those Rroma who spits all over the place as a gesture of disdain...but in this case she makes a (bloodless) exception. "As good as it would have seemed to watch the place go all Michael Bay Act Three with the Explosions and the Booms and the Ow, Ow, Ow, I was thinking the same thing that you were on that front."
Nobody
[Jenny: +5]
Dice: 1 d10 TN6 (10) ( success x 1 )
Nobody
(Thanks again. ;)
Kali
[[No prob!]]
Nobody
"They knew how to find our stronghold," Jack agrees, and then corrects himself. "Strongholds. It is only fitting that we now find theirs. I wonder if there is a part of the city that has seen a concentrated rise in disappearances and violence. Some place close to home. I wouldn't discount the pipe bomb eventually. A nest of monsters is a nest of monsters, if a nest of monsters the E.R. actually is. Perhaps now it will be an empty nest. How is Bo?"
Kali
Jack suggests doing a little logical searching to narrow down where the Sabbat's headquarters are, and Kali smiles at that, nodding a bit. It's the kind of smart thinking that comes from a clever mind. She likes clever minds.
Speaking of which...the smile widens when Jack mentions Bo. "She's good. It took a little bit of calming her down when I walked in with ghoul guts on me, but once she chilled she got right on board. She's a smart kid." A pause, and she frowns a little. She looks, perhaps, a bit unsettled in the moment. "Have you ever had a ghoul before?"
Nobody
"Yes." Nice Jack. He has had a ghoul before. Even the nice ones use the blood to bind, it seems. There is something opaque about his tone, perhaps grave, when admitting to his participation in dragging daylight people out of the daylight and into the twilight. It is not shame. It is something else. Complicated. Opaque. This however is well-meant: "Are you looking for care and feeding tips? Is she your first one?"
Kali
Something about that 'Yes' from Jack, the way that she says it, draws her attention, and she nods a little. Her own emotions about it are a little...well, off, would be fair. She takes a last drag off the cigarette and flicks down the alleyway, watching as the red embers spark against the ground before looking back.
"Nah, I got the feeding down pat. It's just..." She furrows her brow, thinking about her answer for a long moment. Choosing her words carefully. "Yeah, it's my first ghoul. How much does the bond really change things? I've experienced it once, but..." A pause, as she debates whether to continue. She does. "...not from the position of power." She looks over to Jack, eyes levelled at him. "I don't remember it changing me that much, but I had some pretty serious hate clouding the love. How does that work with people who don't have the hatred."
It's an honest moment from the Ravnos. Or at least it seems so. If it really is...well, who knows for sure?
Nobody
[MAYBE I KNOW FOR SURE? with empathy instead of subt.]
Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (2, 2, 5, 6, 6, 10) ( success x 3 )
Kali
[[Just for grins!]]
Dice: 8 d10 TN6 (2, 5, 8, 8, 9, 9, 9, 10) ( success x 6 )
Kali
[[She's a wall, hard to say for sure!]]
Nobody
"Was it your sire?" Jack asks, though perhaps he doesn't expect her to answer because his gaze unfocuses. The thin woman (hideous monster [thirsting vampire, the red fear still a recent memory splintered against his cold dead heart]) looks at Kali unblinkingly for a moment. This isn't a stare. This is Jack with that unfocused gaze, thinking about how to respond to her, or picking and choosing through possible answers, or hell, maybe just giving the question consideration.
"It depends on the person. They still have their spirit and their will, driving them to whatever purpose they follow. They still will strive and live and think about thoughts that are not you. But you will replace a piece of your ghoul, and your ghoul will need it. She'll love you of course. As long as you treat her with humanity, hers will not be too endangered."
A quiet pause, brow furrowing. "So it also depends on you."
Kali
She watches him, silent for a long time. She's not upset or angry about the questions or thinking about it; she's not anything other than blase about that. "It's someone who made a very crucial mistake in choosing who he gave his blood to, and wasn't smart enough to live out the decade after that." Casually said. If it was the sire, she doesn't have an ounce of feeling about it.
Jack's comments are actually a bit relieving to her, it seems. She apparently feared it was worse, that she would subsume Bo completely and destroy that spark. Though that second part, after the pause, gives Kali a pause of her own. She is silent a moment, as if the words are a riddle, before asking.
"Depends how?"
Nobody
"Are you going to treat her like a tool or like a person?" His tone is neutral. "Will your commands be deliberate or insinuated? The way you express yourself, what she gets used to reacting to, how much you appear to believe her independence matters ... if it is her independence you're interested in, of course," there, a faint curl of the too-thin woman's lips. "She'll take her cues from you. As for how well or in what fashion, I do not know."
Kali
That makes her own lip curl, back straighten. "If I just wanted a tool, do you think I would have gone as far as I did instead of just snapping up someone else on the streets? Jesus."
She looks 'her' over, the offense dissipating as quickly as it rose up. A quick flare of anger, nothing more. She doesn't apologize for it; she just nods in gratitude. "Thank you. For the advice."
Nobody
He weathers the quick spark-flare of Kali's offense, maintaining neutrality. He doesn't seem to expect her to apologize, or to realize that in some more human cultures an apology would be expected like some kind of conversational punctuation. "Welcome."
"Now how about you show me this television and -- what did you call them," maybe she can see the spark of humor there, the fact that he's putting her on, maybe not, "DVD discs? -- tell me where in the screen you insert them."
Kali
Kali, on the other hand, knows full well the human cultures in which apology is expected for such incidents. But they are not humans. They have very different social mores.
She smiles when she brings up the TV and DVD, which quickly turns into a grin. "Oh Jesus Christ. C'mon, I'll show up. This could get tricky." She nods with her head to the end of the alleyway and starts to walk there, to lead him off to what will be a involved (and possibly repeated several times) conversation, departures and well-wishings, and then a trip back home on her own.
Nobody
[ROLL CREDITS.]
No comments:
Post a Comment