savetheearth | 005; action; closed; Tuesday

Entry tags:

005; action; closed; Tuesday

WHO: Brendan Blake (Lelouch vi Britannia) and Jack (awkward crotchgrab magnet)
WHAT: Manly bonding and product placement.
WHERE: Elizabeth's apartment
WHEN: Forward-dated to Tuesday????? Screw you, time, you're not the boss of us!

[It had started out so innocently.

That is, Brendan is convinced, exactly how someone dramatizing the most recent and utterly ridiculous turn in his life would begin describing it. It had started out so innocently. Well, no, it had started out with Elizabeth pulling him aside and asking him if he would be free this evening, and like an utter idiot, he had of course immediately blurted out yes (he couldn't imagine denying her), and while that would seem innocent to the uninitiated viewer, it...

All right, no. It had started out innocently.

Brendan scowls and shakes his head at the door he's currently lingering (loitering) outside of, internally debating whether he really wants to reach out and knock. The favor had turned out to be (against all of his possible expectations) to visit Elizabeth's apartment while she wasn't even there to keep... some man company, a visitor, someone Brendan had never even met. He knows the name, of course, Jack Sears, and fully appreciates why he might be feeling isolated at the moment (it can't be easy living under house arrest, even if he has Elizabeth for company), but why the hell had she thought Brendan would be appropriate for the task? Did he have some sort of Yes-I-would-make-a-good-friend-for-a-suspected-murderous-psychopath aura too him? Did that even make sense?

The two large and fragrant pizzas he's cradling within his grasp (a Super Supreme and Meat Lover's from Pizza Hut) are getting heavy, though, and while he could just ditch the boxes and go back home with no skin off his back, Brendan is... far too easily swayed by just the memory of hopeful blue eyes that he stops himself. He'll stick around for an hour at most and then leave, he decides. It isn't like he had any other real plans for the night.

His shoulders sag with the force of his sigh, then lift again as he corrects his posture, reaches out a hand, and knocks.]

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[Brendan isn't the only one thinking why. Jack appreciated the sentiment when Elizabeth had told him she was going to send up food and someone to keep him company, but Jack had been just fine watching the movie channel by himself, Admittedly without alcohol to keep him company... and despite bad decisions last week, Jack could still really use a beer. Or two. Or four. But there wasn't any, and he wasn't about to risk being spotted just to try to track down a drink... or respond to any of Casval's eyeroll-worthy texts asking about his wellbeing. How many times does he have to confirm he's still resting at Liz's place? Honestly.

Regardless... Jack's not about to refuse Elizabeth's suggestion; he's a guest in her home, and he still feels terrible about yelling at her... so when he hears the knock at the door, he sighs and checks the peephole first, before tucking his gun back into the waistband of his pants (hey, you can't be too careful) and cautiously opening the door partway. He's greeted by the welcome smell of warm greasy pizza and the sight of... Brendan, hadn't she said his name was?]

Uh, hello.

[It's not the warmest greeting in the world. And Jack may happen to be wishing for his missing arm once again, to have the gun in his hand and ready behind the door just in case. Maybe Casval's paranoia is wearing off on him, he wonders. He jerks his head towards the interior of the apartment, inviting Brendan in.]

C'mon. Before someone comes down the hall.

Edited 2013-05-07 03:48 (UTC)

Hello.

[Not-so-warm greeting right back at you, but while Brendan is lackluster at best, he at least isn't cringing away and shrieking hysterically for the police. That has to count for something.

Either way, he summons up a lopsided smile at Jack's invitation inside, stepping into the apartment smoothly and trying not to be too openly curious as he glances around. What he notices immediately, of course, is this: flowers. Lots of them. Flower arrangements, floral print everything, flower-shaped rugs— where had she gotten all of this stuff? Stuffed animals, of course, probably saved from when she was a child if not newly-purchased— hell, she probably has custom pink stationary hidden around here somewhere. Scented. What was that movie again? Legally...

He gives a mild shake of his head (he's oddly disappointed, in a way, but can't quite work out why) and glances back to Jack, lifting the boxes a little.]

Where should I put these? And sorry I didn't bring anything to drink. You should have plenty of leftovers, though.

Table's fine, and there's drinks in the fridge.

[Jack says, closing the door quickly behind him. The drinks, of course, being the non-alcoholic kind. With cute little post-it notes like "Drink me!" on them -- Elizabeth's form of encouragement away from the booze. Frankly the whole apartment is just a bit much... and almost unfortunately for his masculinity, Jack doesn't look too out of place, with his pretty blue eyes and fluffy feathered hair. But hospitality is hospitality, Jack'll just have to deal with it... and judging by the bandaging around his only arm, a place to stay was probably necessary.

You're Brendan, right?

[Jack says, giving him a more thorough once-over look. With how paranoid half the network has been, still is, who knows if he even talked to the guy before.]

[Table it is, then, and Brendan meanders over to set the boxes down, turning around and leaning lightly against the piece of furniture once he's done.]

Shouldn't you have waited for me to introduce myself first? In the interests of security, that is.

[Better get used to the attitude problem, Jack, 'cause it ain't going anywhere. He shrugs, though, dismissing the jab. It had been largely self-mocking anyway.]

I am, though, yes. We've spoken once before. You were drunk. I don't make a habit of using my name on the network for obvious reasons. Elizabeth is one of the few who knows it.

[He pushes away from the table then, going to the fridge and opening it. The sight of the post-it notes makes him hesitate, though, and the door soon shuts.]

I think I'll stick with water.

[Jack doesn't blame you one bit on the juice issue, Brendan. Not one bit.]

...oh. Sorry about... whatever I might have said.

[He could probably narrow down which conversation it was if he checked the network, but Jack isn't too keen on it after seeing the mess the first time. So he settles for apology instead. Everyone he talked to that night probably deserves one.]

[Brendan merely shrugs at that, sending a long look at Jack over his shoulder. He could of course mention what was said specifically, but then given that it had heavily concerned torture, it's probably better if he doesn't. Time to move on.]

Do you know where she keeps the cups? And plates, unless you feel like making a mess of things. [He gestures expansively at all of the immensely frilly girly stuff.] It seems like it might be difficult to wash.

[No but seriously why is she so girly? Even his sister's room didn't look like— well, okay, it did, but Natalie is fifteen and not a college student. It's totally different.]

Cupboards over there.

[Jack points for the cups and plates, leaning up against the table. To be perfectly honest this is the first time he's met someone from the network who was an almost entirely unknown entity, and so sure, yes, he could help. Or he could, you know, keep an eye on Brendan.]

How's Elizabeth know you? Same school or something like that?

[Over to the cupboards it is, then, and while Brendan dreads coming across even more flower-dappled items within, he opens each and extracts the plainest plates and cups he can, one of each for both himself and Jack.]

Yes, we're in the same school. After she transmitted her image on the network, it was fairly easy to find her.

[You know. Because her hair is pink. Anyway, he heads back to the table with the aforementioned items in tow, sets out the plates, then makes as if to pick out his cup and head back to the sink before he stops.]

Did you want water, too? Or shall I pour you some juice?

[There may just be a tiny smirk on that last word. Wonder why.]

And please, help yourself to some pizza. I wasn't sure what you would like, so I got the Meat Lover's and Super Supreme. You're not a vegetarian, are you?

Water's fine.

[Jack says through gritted teeth, pulling himself out a chair. Damn it, kid. He opens the nearest pizza box, and helps himself to a few preliminary slices of Super Supreme. He's actually a bit hungry... since he got here he's been making up for those couple weeks of hiding out on the streets.]

Anything's good with me. I'm just a guest here.

[Brendan shrugs at the answer and picks up Jack's cup, too, going to fill both. If the man wants ice, he can add it himself later; he's fairly certain he's done enough setting up for one evening. He's a guest, too, after all.]

"Guest" seems unnecessarily euphemistic, but then it wouldn't be accurate to call you a prisoner, either, would it?

[It's a potentially inflammatory question and he knows it, but he softens the blow by using a thoughtful tone, voice quieter than it had been during his earlier jabs. He isn't always a brat, promise.]

How have you been holding up, anyway? I caught the story somewhat late, but...

[He trails off, shrugs, and returns to the table, setting Jack's glass down first before seeking a seat for himself. He won't pry and isn't feeling particularly nosy, but he'll listen if the other wishes to talk.]

I've been a prisoner. And trust me, this is a hell of a lot nicer.

[Jack's just brutally upfront about it, a simple statement of fact. Unfortunately when he's not halfway through a huge bottle of port, he's considerably less inclined to delve into personal matters, instead choosing his own interpretation of the question. He nods towards his gauze-wrapped arm.]

Got bit when we were out in the Dead District. Haven't started howling at the moon yet though. What about you?

[... Or Jack could take him completely literally. That works, too.

Brendan resists the urge to roll his eyes and helps himself to a slice of Super Supreme, too. Pizza isn't usually his thing, but why not.]

Perhaps it's a lifestyle choice? And I've been fine. I haven't been overly involved with what's been going on, but I have been keeping an eye on it. I assume you heard about the statues at the art gallery?

Yeah, heard about the exhibit on the news.

[Jack's been keeping a careful eye on the news for many obvious reasons.]

Haven't seen any of the statues in person myself, though... everything happened a little too fast on my end.

Edited 2013-05-10 02:55 (UTC)

Well, I'm not much of an art critic, but it seems to me that you aren't missing much.

[A slight pause, then he glances up, meeting Jack's eyes.]

I unfortunately didn't risk touching those in the gallery, but I recovered something when I visited. Far more interesting, however, is something that was inscribed on the base of one of the statues. It's a URL to a web forum entitled, "Let's Negotiate." I have it memorized and can write it down for you if you're curious.

"Let's Negotiate"?

[Jack echos, a little incredulous.]

Yeah. Yeah, I'd like to see what they have to say. Not going to believe it for a damn second, but sure, let's hear what batshit insane logic they're gonna throw our way.

Negotiate, hah.

[Not that Jack is bitter or anything. Having played audience for him, however, Brendan is less than inclined to make any off-color remarks about that, and so he simply shrugs, taking a bite of his pizza to keep himself occupied. Again, he isn't going to pry. Jack probably wishes he hadn't said those things anyway.]

Well. Those are the major developments for the moment. The rest is on the network, as far as I can tell.

...and not too much happening there, a couple isolated incidents aside. It's too quiet, relative to what General Miller was implying would happen. Mostly people too new and clueless to have any idea what they're in for, and a bunch of kids goofing off...

Me, I'm heading back out to the Dead District in a few more days. Do some more scouting around. I can't stay here forever.

[Scouting around the Dead District? Brendan's head lifts at that, and he frowns, lowering his pizza. It isn't his place to say anything and he hardly wants to get involved, but—]

Are you sure that's entirely wise? After all the excitement there, it seems highly likely that the area is under surveillance of one form or another. Someone as high profile as you will have a hard time sneaking around.

[Especially lacking an arm as he is. It's not the most inconspicuous feature. Rather than draw attention to this, though, Brendan moves on to his second point.]

Besides, it may be difficult to find another place to hide out after you relocate. Did you already have somewhere lined up or are you playing this by ear?

[Jack's dismissive of his concerns. Has another bite of pizza before continuing on.]

I'll manage. Someone needs to keep an eye on the place. Even if there is surveillance, there's even fewer people now that they've cleared out a lot of the homeless. Should be even easier to spot anyone coming. And if I do see anyone suspicious... I probably know what they're after.

That "easier to spot anyone coming" applies to you as well, you know. You'll stick out like a sore thumb, and they have superior numbers and resources. You'd be endangering yourself needlessly.

[He takes another bite of his pizza then, somewhat viciously.]

You should consider having someone to accompany you, someone you can trust who has some form of combat or scouting experience. You won't do anyone any good if you're caught again.

[Needless endangerment is the name of the game... not tat Brendan needs to know that.]

Superior numbers are something we haven't seen out in full force yet. And I don't have any plans to stick around if a large enough group does come looking. That's when it's about time to call in the heavy artillery.. or at least Captain Mass and whatever he's got in the back of his closet.

If they want to "negotiate", must mean we're doing something right, and I'm not gonna let it slide.

And how do you know that our recent actions haven't merited "full force?" What of the manhunt for you? They might not pull out all the stops if someone lower on their list starts sticking their nose where they shouldn't, but you?

[Brendan makes a disgusted noise and shakes his head.]

I have to wonder if you're doing it on purpose, and if that's the case... well, I'm in no position to stop you, but I will ask that you consider how Elizabeth might react if significant harm comes to you.

[It's pretty clear from his expression that Jack doesn't care what Brendan thinks.]

Do you have any other suggestions? No matter where I go, they're going to be looking for me... and at least I'm prepared for trouble, unlike some of the people on that 'hunt'.

[That said...]

Elizabeth, at least, knows why I have to do this. That I'll be doing my best to stay off their radar and keep a low profile. That's the best I can offer.

[He's getting that impression, yes, but while he longs to give more warnings, suggestions, anything, Brendan is nothing if not aware of when words would be wasted. Acquiescing to Jack's stupidity is a blow to his pride he doesn't necessarily appreciate, but then... he is an outsider, likely an unwelcome one, and Jack is old enough that he should be spared such preaching. The man can handle himself, can't he?

After a long pause where he does nothing more than scowl at Elizabeth's guest, he sighs and lowers his eyes, clearly backing down. This isn't his problem. It isn't.]

Then that's all I ask for.

Good.

[God, what Jack wouldn't do for a beer to go along with the pizza right about now. But with no other recourse, he drinks his water before changing the subject, since it's clearly a point of contention. Jack had wondered earlier, but Brendan's interest in Elizabeth's feelings can't help but prompt the curious question:]

She your girlfriend or something?

[As it turns out, Brendan had been just in the middle of taking another bite of his pizza when Jack asked the question, and as one might predict, he's soon coughing and borderline choking, hand over his mouth while he tries to a) not die and b) compose himself. Elizabeth, his girlfriend? That's—]

She's— she's a good friend of mine.

[Or— or something, and he quickly takes a gulp of water, washing the food down. Girlfriend? Why would—]

I worry about her. She's— well, you must have noticed how she wears her heart on her sleeve...

[Jack doesn't comment, expression 100% deadpan and calmly taking another mouthful of pizza while Brendan sputters. Good friend, huh?]

Yeah... at the same time, I get the feeling she can look after herself pretty well, though. Cap and her have been the driving force behind a lot of the activity on the network lately, you know?

[Brendan knows full well what that expression means, sir. He doesn't do much more than scowl, though, and eat a little more.]

I've noticed, yes. She has a good head on her shoulders. The two of them are quite formidable together.

[Not that he approves, necessarily. The captain, after all...]

I'm not yet convinced that he's trustworthy, but there seem to be few other options.

Why not? He's a good man.

[Cocaine habit aside, but Jack isn't exactly in any position to judge people on their vices.]

[Brendan shrugs, still focused on his pizza. Skinny as a rake or not, he's hungry.]

Perhaps he's too much of a politician for me. Either way, the feeling seems mutual.

Huh. What'd you say to him?

[... Well, that's a difficult question. He rolls his eyes heavenward, then—]

A number of different things. I doubt it matters.

[Jack's curious, but not so much that he'll press the issue to hard. Instead, he just says:]

Maybe you should just talk to him again sometime. Got off on the wrong foot or something. With everything that's been going on lately... I gotta say, personally, I trust him more than just about anyone else.

[Brendan gives Jack a look that very, very strongly implies You're joking, right? before shaking his head, eyes once more focusing on his pizza. Time to finish off this slice, and just for a bit of variety, he digs out some Meat Lover's next, beginning to consume it in little to no time at all. Really, this is just—]

I doubt it's anything so simple, but at the very least... well, difficult as he seems, he could be worse.

[It's high praise, in a way, but Brendan is falling silent after saying it anyway.]

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005; action; closed; Tuesday

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