[Sodium_noir] Hell is Other People

[Jennie Teakle]

Sinclair Party
1 - 3 am

Jack, Christine
Mortals +


> [Jack]
> He’s smiling a wide, crooked, silly grin.
>
> “Hi sweetie.  I really missed you...” Jack realizes
> his faux pas in mid-sentence, the stupid presumption
> of it, and tries to cover by stretching his long arms
> and casually scanning the room. “....really missed
> you... in this crowd. Lots of people. Lots and lots.”

[Christine]
Christine stares at Jack owlishly, the stricken look in her eyes  
fading as she processes herself back into the wider Universe. The one  
that includes Jack. He is blissfully wasted, drunk on freedom. Well,  
that and enough booze to drown an elephant. She likes Jack. Likes him  
a lot. She'd like to catch his mood.


> [Jack]
> “Soooo...” Still embarrassed by his bold declaration,
> Jack avoids Christine’s gaze. “I...well, me and
> Aurora... so, we...actually...are thinking it’s time
> to hit the road.  Move on to the next watering hole.
> A guy named...” He screws up his face, struggling for
> the name. “John, I think...he wanted to come along.  I
> said okay. More the merrier.  Maybe all these stiffs
> should join us, d’ya think?”
>
> The goofy grin returns, and Jack looks all of ten
> years old as he beams at her.


[Christine]
Christine finds a ghost grin of her own, an echo in the cave of  
broken glass.

"Sounds like a plan. Stan," she says. "Anyplace but here. Anyplace we  
can drink and not think too hard."

Christine is aware of a wobbly twinge in her stomach at the thought  
of more alcohol and grimaces. She badly wants to go carousing with  
Jack and Aurora, blocking everything but the here and now right out  
of her head and her heart. But she's already at the rough and jagged  
edge of tonight's binge. Fuck it. Her frown lifts suddenly.

"Raindogs," she says abruptly, stabbing a decisive finger at Jack.  
"It does great coffee. Chases away the grims, settles your guts, puts  
hair on your chest! I *need* some of Jaywick's coffee!" Her grin amps  
up, closer to its normal wattage. "'Cos y'know, a girl can never have  
too much hair on her chest."

She cocks her head and squints up at Jack.

"You, me, Aurora, this John guy . . . " She thinks fleetingly of  
Sandra, " . . . who else d'you think wants out of this Morgue?"


reckless tag to Mr Emeron ;-)







-------------- next part --------------
An HTML attachment was scrubbed...
URL: http://elsinore.net/pipermail/sodium_noir_elsinore.net/attachments/20071104/fda3fa5e/attachment.html