[Sodium_noir] Hell is Other People

[Eric]

Sorry for the long compiled post of previous posts... Look for the blue if you wish to skip to the new. ~ Eric

Sinclair Party
Sometime between 1am and 3am

Women's Restroom/Cloakroom - Sandra (Bastet), Christine (Inebriated Mage)
Hallway Outside Women's Restroom - Jack (Smoking), John (Undying)
 
[Sandra]
Judging from the woman's demeanor when she asked, this poor girl wasn't drinking to have fun. She was doing her damnedest to keep from feeling bad. That was never a good sign. "Sandra," she says introducing herself. "I'm sorry it's not under better circumstances."
 
Sandra kneels on one knee next to the distraught woman. "It's ok," she says in a quiet, comforting tone resting a warm hand on her arm seeing she was doing all she could to hold herself together. "I won't leave you alone. Just take it easy for few."
 
Sandra looks behind her at the cloakroom exit both to see if the Ice Queen was gone or if anyone else was looking for her. "Speaking of being alone, did you arrive by yourself or are you with someone?"
 
[Christine]
Christine drags herself back into the present. She stares blankly at Sandra. 

"What? Er . . . yes. A friend - Jack Emerson. He's . . ."

Christine halts. She'd had to make a hasty exit from the veranda, leaving Jack with that enigmatic Frenchwoman, Simone. Shame floods through her. What must they have thought? But she'd had to get away - it had been that or throw up all over their shoes. Christine's social etiquette may be far from refined but there are some things that not even she can face having to live down. 

"I need to find him . . . and I also want to find someone else here at the party. Urgently!" 

Actually, that's not true. Most of all? Christine just wants to get the hell out of this ghastly place. But before she does, she really has to talk to Mara. 

[Jack]
He got as far as the door of the Ladies Restroom. Jack stared at it, blinking.  It might as well have been the great Wall of China, the Fortress of Masada, and the City of Troy all combined into one.  His concern for Christine had come up against the impenetrable force of the Place Which Shall Not Be Entered (well, not if you were of the male persuasion). 
 
Jack stared for a few more minutes, then slumped down, defeated, on a nearby, smartly upholstered bench.  He lit up a cigarette, trying to remain unobtrusive.  A few elegant, perfumed women drifted past him into the forbidden sanctum and, tempted as he was to ask for their assistance in finding out the status of his companion, Jack decided it was best to sit and wait for Christine to return.
 
[Christine]
Christine stands up hastily - bad move, given her condition. The room swims sickeningly and she is forced to grab wall for a second until her head clears.
 
[Sandra]
Sandra helps Christine to her feet seeing to it that she gets her balance and focus before letting the woman stand. "Come on then. Let's go see if we can find this Jack person," she says. 
 
[Christine]
A few deep breaths and she's on the move again. She all but trips over Jack as she exits the cloakroom.

"Hey," she glances around distractedly.
 
[Sandra]
"Ah, you mean this Jack. Hello again," she says seeing a familiar face of the evening.
 
[Christine]
"Where's Simone?" Christine shakes her head. "Never mind. Something I got to do. Then let's split." There's a desperate edge to her voice. "Can't take this place anymore." 
 
[Sandra]
"You two going to be ok? Do you need a ride? I'm willing to offer up some transportation if you need it. Neither of you quite look in any kind of condition to drive right now," she says to them.
 
[Matt, John]
The two men entered the hallway in a heated discussion.  Both were dressed and carried themselves as if they were people of power and influence, though it was immediately plain that neither was a member of Gotham's upper crust.
 
The two were intent on each other, occasionally pausing to look at an empty space next to them. They would actually talk to the patch of empty space, and then turn to each other and continue.
 
Noticing the they weren't alone, they paused where they were and continued.  The language had switched.  The dark skinned one spoke Egyptian and the other spoke Latin.  Both versions were very old.
 
[Sandra]
Sandra's eyes and ears both perk up at the sound of her native language being spoken so far away from home and looks to the approaching gentlemen.  The look on her face was very easy to read it caught her so off guard. 
 
[John]
Finally, the darker skinned one left.  His companion watched him leave, and then turned to stare in the other direction as a patch of cold air made it's way down the hall and disappear through the wall.
 
Muttering obscenities under his breath, John reached into his pocket and pulled out a cigar.  Biting off the end, he glanced at Jack (OOC: assuming I'm in the right place).  "Got a match?"

[Jack]
His attention still drawn to Christine, it takes Jack a moment to register that a question is being asked of him.  His head turns slowly to examine the stranger.

“Sure...not a problem.” His words are a bit slurred as he fumbles with the pocket of his jacket. “Oh, fuck me.  Where’d they go...”

Jack stands up, a bit wobbly on his feet.  He extracts a silver lighter and smiles triumphantly.  About to light the man’s cigar, Jack thinks better of it and thrusts it at him.  “Here - best you do it yourself. Not sure I wouldn’t set your nose on fire instead.”

[John]
John smiles softly and takes the lighter.  Flipping it open with practiced ease, the flame bursts to life as he brings it to the tip of his cigar.  He tries to be careful with the smoke, steering it away from the others as best he can, but it's obvious he's distracted, worried. 
 
Whatever the topic of conversation was, the matter clearly hadn't been resolved.
 
Once the cigar tip was glowing a bright red, he snapped the lighter closed and looked down at Jack. 
 
"You okay?"

[Jack]
Jack stares at the man for what seems an eternity.

“Well...” The word comes out like molasses. “I’m drunk. And yourself?”

[John]
John chuckled.  "Sober.  Though perhaps I should look to change all that.  Ever see something that you know is wrong, but you can't find the words to explain it to others?  Even if you could explain it, no one would believe you."
 
He sighed, and the cigar tip burned bright as he took in some of the flavorful Cuban smoke.  He needed a drink to go with it.

[Sandra]
"Yes, I have," she replies in Egyptian even though she knows perfectly well that the question was not directed at her. 'One just happens to be in front of me lighting up a cigar right now,' she thinks to herself as she quirks an eyebrow and a smile. Who in the world was this yummy enigmatic dish that strolled on up, and where did he learn to speak Ancient Egyptian? 

[Christine]
Christine is staring round at the high society types, a wild edge to her expression. She's looking for Mara but the spangles and unfamiliarity of the throng are making it hard to think. Her sifting isn't helped by trembling vision and hard beating heart. Her night has just been one long booze-soaked lurch into crisis. Pretty special, Christine, she thinks savagely. 

She is dimly aware of Jack chatting to the handsome, hard-faced stranger who stands over him and of  . . . Sandra? Christine hopes she recalls her glamorous rescuer's name correctly. On impulse she turns to her beautiful Samaritan and says, 

"Listen, I'm looking for Mara Ravenclaw. Do you know her? Long dark hair, black dress, diamonds?" Christine realizes it's a long shot but right now she could use all the help she can get. "I got to tell her something. Important. Ask her . . . " Christine tails off, rocked by a sudden flush of rage. Ask her what? If Mara knew that Camille Carlton wasn't  . . .  Christine remembers the woman's morgue-cold finger against her lips.  But  of course, Camille *is* dead. Dead like Mara. "There's something I need to know," Christine concludes, eyes hectic with sudden fire. 

[Sandra]
Sandra turns back to Christine and back to the moment. Yummy enigmatic dishes had to wait for a few till she knew that this woman was going to be okay. 

"Know her personally? No. However I did spot someone who fit that description a little earlier. I think she was speaking with Lady Sinclair and some other man in the Main Room at the base of the Grand Stairs. I don't know if they're still there, but we can go see."

Sandra offers a helping, steadying hand for Christine if she needs it, but looks over her shoulder at the stranger who had approached. Her curiosity was flaring so much it almost made her teeth ache. She wanted to speak to the man more, learn something about him, or at least introduce herself. But at the moment, all she could manage was... 

"If you will excuse us, it looks like we are on the hunt for a Miss Mara Ravenclaw." However, she makes it a point to look the stranger directly in the eye and hold the contact for a moment, and nod in acknowledgment. She hoped he got the message that she would like to speak to him at some point.

"Come on, sweetie," she says to Christine.

~ Taggity John, Jack, and Christine  :-)

 
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