| War is Hell |
[28 Oct 2005|12:07pm] |
After returning from her first informal target practice, Quinn had made a list of things she'd need to do. Getting Hayden's email had intrigued her; other than Kris and Corbett, she didn't recognize any of the other names on the list, but if Hayden knew something about the disappearances, maybe she should talk to him.
In a way it was weird, almost like she was being...consulted or something. But she could get used to someone talking to her like she actually had a clue for a change. So she'd talk to him.
She'd also talk to Devon, partly to see if he'd heard anything else, partly just to check in. The quiet ones were the ones you always needed to worry about, and Hannah's boyfriend was the quietest soul she'd met in a long time. So he was next on the list.
First, though, she had to make a much more unpleasant phone call. Unpleasant, but necessary. So she dug out the business card and punched in the number, calling from a pay phone to appease her newfound paranoia.
( Such professional language. )
Despite everything, despite the miserable situation, the tension, the constant worrying, Quinn couldn't help it...as the line went dead, she burst out laughing.
"Damnation, I touched a nerve!" she said cheerfully. "I gotta keep that in mind for next time." She replaced the phone in its cradle, still chortling. "Yeah, come kill me, bitch," she said, an unpleasant grin stretching across her face. "Or come try. I wonder if you can move fast enough to dodge a shotgun blast?"
Do I mean that? she wondered, then realized that, as frightening as it was, the answer was probably yes. If Jill came at her in a manner that was even remotely threatening, she wouldn't live to have fangs.
"War is hell," she muttered, crossing the first item off of her list.
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| Culivating |
[28 Oct 2005|07:36pm] |
Oliver was moving at half-speed, needing three cups of coffee before he could even see straight. His meeting had been scheduled for lunch, but he'd slept until eleven, so he was, predictably, running late. He put on his sunglasses in the elevator, then rode down to the lobby.
He still wondered what Wolfram and Hart wanted with him. He was still growing into his powers, and they didn't seem like the sorts to gamble on an unproven horse. Well, talk was free, and the firm was picking up the tab for lunch. He could always stand to listen.
Stepping into the lobby, he looked around, then made his way to the hotel restaurant. Settling his weight into a seat, he rested the backpack against the leg of the chair. "Sorry I'm late," he said without concern, rubbing the side of his face tiredly. "Slept through my alarm."
Elise sat gingerly on her seat, not finding it all necessary to rise in greeting as Oliver arrived. She was never fond of being kept waiting, and was generally perpetually punctual herself, but knew she had to give leeway in regards to possible clients. Not everyone could be perfect, after all.
She folded her hands on the tabletop, taking care not to let the snow white sleeves of her suit rest against anything that might mar it, and offered the young man a smile in greeting. "Since you are staying in a hotel, you might try a wake-up call. Telephone rings are usually more easily picked up by a sleeping ear than an alarm. But that's not what we're here to discuss, now is it? I must say, I was quite glad to hear from you."
( Talent )
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