fruithats | [ #disastertwins catchall post ]

[ dangerous alone has never been a deterrent for them. Slackjaw is dangerous. Lizzy Stride is dangerous. but this, Roth? Roth is (was) something else altogether. Jacob laughs, hollow, quiet, at the assessment. ] He knew I was coming and made it as much of a spectacle as he could manage. If he wasn't mad, I... I don't know what else to call him.

[ it must have been madness. right? surely. but somehow he isn't convinced. ]

I... [ what was he doing there? he shakes his head, but he straightens in his seat a little, looking up at Evie before he fixed his eyes upon the floor. ] It's a long story. I... I'd been working with him. Sabotaging the Abbey in whatever way we could think of. [ and it had been fun, spirits help him, it had been good. he shakes his head again. ] At least until... until I found out what he did to the Overseers.

[ the look he casts up at Evie is haunted. he gestures at the dismantled rune on the table. ] That... isn't whale bone.

[ working with him? Evie pinches the bridge of her nose between thumb and forefinger, rubbing at the skin, and bites back the myriad acerbic remarks that spring to the tip of her tongue. of all the reckless, thoughtless things Jacob has done - and there have been many - she is sure that this takes the cake. she has the urge to grab him by the shoulders and shake him, and she isn't entirely sure if that's an impulse born of worry or misplaced anger. ]

Oh, Jacob... [ it's nothing louder than a dark mutter as she continues to pinch her nose, and honestly, she thinks she's showing admirable restraint right now.

and then she goes deathly still at his next words. her eyes widen as she stares at the bone fragments on the table from underneath her raised arm. ]

No, surely you can't mean-- [ but she knows that he wouldn't joke about something like that even if his mood was lighter. she feels bile rising in her throat as she stares at the broken rune with a revulsion born of horrific understanding. ]

That monster. [ it would seem that Evie has found a better assessment than 'mad'. ]

[ scarce wonder that Jacob was in the state she found him in. Evie feels like she's very soon going to lose her last meal the way it came, and she's not the one who had the misfortune of dealing with all this first-hand. ]

[ he did say it was a long story. but if he isn't glad that Evie doesn't take his head off right here for it. instead, she's listening, like she hasn't since this entire mess began and she was swallowed whole by her little feud with this Lucy Thorne.

and yet there's no room for feeling bitter, or really feeling anything but abject horror at what he witnessed. it still makes him sick to think about, but he looks at Evie until he can be sure she understands.

... perhaps it's wrong to feel relief, but he does, at not being alone with it. little by little, the fear he can still nearly taste like smoke in his mouth seems to abate.

was he a monster? perhaps that is a better word. calling him mad seems to him to be slandering real lunatics. at last Jacob pries himself from his seat, looking at the rune and then at Evie. honestly, if he can help it, he'd rather not stay in the same room as it a moment longer. ]

We both need a drink. [ urgently. he looks down at his hands and the state of his clothes. ] And... I suppose a change of clothes would not go amiss. [ more like he needs a bath and perhaps to take himself to a physician for his hands, but all of that can bloody well wait right now. ]

[ with an effort, she tears her eyes away from the remains on the table. a drink simultaneously sounds like the most excellent and the most unwise idea to her right now. her mind and her heart hold a brief council with her still-unstable stomach and come out firmly on top in favour of the notion.

... mostly, it's just a relief to hear her brother starting to sound a little more like himself. but before they both throw memory and sobriety to the wind, she feels she has to be the voice of reason about something tonight. if only because focusing on practical details is far preferable to the alternative. ]

First, get yourself cleaned up. [ she puts a hand on his shoulder. ] I'm sure we have some salve lying about the place; it's no substitute for a doctor, but it will do in a pinch. I'll not have you ruin your hands because you were making a beeline for the bottle. [ she forces her lips upwards into something approximating a smile. ] Once that's done, I say that we go and steal the largest cask of booze that we can carry, and that we don't stop drinking until either it's gone or we pass out.

[ as far as unwise ideas go, Jacob doesn't think this one is all that bad. he may be drinking on a mostly empty stomach, but he's aiming to get as far away from sober as he is able, and fast, so is that such a bad prerequisite?

before he can get moving, Evie places a hand on his shoulder, the touch more welcome than he would admit in words. it also forces him to focus on her. what she says has him drop his head forward with a huff. ] You do make a plan for everything, don't you. [ he smiles as he says it, wry as the expression may be. after all, it's a good plan, and she even seems worried for him, far less keen on shouting at him for what was no doubt reckless and careless on his part than he had expected. he feels deeply grateful for her and her being there.

a nod, and he looks at her again. clearly still shaken, but standing,
which ought to be a start. ] I'd best get started. If we don't go before the fire brigade is done, I'm not sure we'll find anything to drink in all of Dunwall.

[ because the two of them won't be the only ones who'll need a drink or a lot of drinks. so he gets a move on, bathroom first, to wash what stains there are off his hands. it's almost a comfort to see the Mark again, but not as much as cold water on burned skin. he's not too badly hurt, but seeing the dried blood peel off his skin in flakes makes him ill all over again, less because it is blood, and more because it is a reminder he wants no part of. for lack of anything left in his insides that he might hurl, he dispells the nausea with a splash of cold water to his face. might as well do something about the soot stains there. he only now notices that his hat did not survive the endeavour. ]

Do you know where that salve is, then? [ only has to raise his voice a little in a place so small. ]

Off you go then.

[ she says it lightly, patting his shoulder the once as he heads off to the bathroom. she leaves the room herself soon after, not wanting to spend a moment longer than she has to by herself with that - thing. perhaps later, she'll offer to help dismantle any more that might remain. ]

[ truth be told, in the back of her mind, she's already shelving the inevitable lecture away for after they've both recovered from being horrifically drunk and then gloriously hungover. Jacob isn't going to escape a stern talking to about things like risk assessment and knowing when one is in over one's head that easily (he could have died, she thinks again, unbidden).

but that can wait. for now, she heads to the little cabinet tucked haphazardly in the corner of what could, if one was feeling generous, be called an extremely cramped living room, and roots around inside. with her head stuck half-inside the door of the cupboard, she only just about hears Jacob call from the bathroom. ]

Somewhere here in the living room, I think. [ she'd taken it upon herself to try and amass a ramshackle collection of medical supplies; it had been slow going, especially at first, but if you asked Evie, they couldn't be too careful with physicians anymore. no telling what anyone might think if they wound up treating someone who bore the Outsider's mark, after all.

she finds what she's looking for - a small tin box, tucked behind a half-empty bottle of pear soda and a dilapidated teapot - and draws it out onto her lap before getting back to her feet. ]

If it's not in this box, then it's anyone's guess. [ she's talking half to herself, half to Jacob as she wanders back out of the living area and takes a sharp turn into the bathroom. ] Delivery for you, Mister Frye.

[ he doesn't expect to escape the lecture. in all honesty, it would be quite strange to go without one. after all that's happened... after all the things he did. not right now, though, right now that is about the last thing he needs. he'd rather get drunk to the point where he can forget about it all, for a little while at least.

he hears Evie's reply just well enough, assuming she's looking for exactly what he asked about-- and so he goes ahead and picks up a spare set of clothes from his room (which is as cluttered and crowded as everything else in this place) while she's at it, which he deposits in the bathroom to change into and hopefully smell less burnt. no spare gloves... but then, they're not out to be seen tonight, ideally not by anyone. the back of his hand should make no difference. it's a little easier not to think when he's moving, when he has something to do, so he's grateful for more than one reason when Evie turns up. his smile is still tense, but it's there. ]

Thank you. [ for this, but more than just this, too. of course he takes the box, flips open the lid-- there it is. this is where he'd close the door and get on with it, but not before another question. ] D'you have a place in mind to go to for our heist?

[ with the box now out of her hands, she takes up a spot near the doorway, leaning against the corner of the frame with her hands in front of her, one resting on top of the other in thought. ]

I can think of a few places, depending on what you feel like drinking. [ a small smile quirks her lips; it feels a little easier, a little more genuine, this time. ] Would you rather imported or Gristol-made?

What about something from home? [ Morley, that is. it isn't as though they got much chance to be drinking back when they lived there, but that didn't mean they got none. as soon as the drinking songs began, people became much more liberal. ]

You mean, like a proper Caulkenny single-malt? [ the kind people used to slip them when said people were deep enough into their cups to care only about the fact that the two youngsters whose age could not yet be counted in double figures could bellow out a foul-mouthed anthem with just as much conviction as the next drinker.

she tilts her head. ] I think we could manage that. We have two choices: either we pay a visit to the docks and try our luck down at the customs warehouse. [ a brief pause. ] Or, I hear there's a manor up in the Estate District whose occupant has a taste for fine Morley spirits. We could take a tour of the cellar if we fancy our luck.

[ now those were good memories. the suggestion makes Jacob smile again, no less as Evie goes on and lists off several options like she's memorised them. has she? he's not sure he would put it past her.

his headtilt matches hers. so does the devilish edge to his smile. ] I never understood why rich people keep a whole cellar. How much can one person possibly drink? We really should lend a hand.

[ Evie feels her own smile sharpen. nothing like a spot of light wealth redistribution to lift the spirits, it seems. ]

That's the spirit. It's really only the charitable thing to do. [ she pushes herself off of the doorframe. ] I'll leave you to get ready while I check the location on the map, shall I?

[ she feels maybe a small shred of sympathy for Abbeline, should he happen to be one of those in the City Watch called out by an irate, whisky-less noble tomorrow morning. certainly not enough sympathy to overrule her anticipation at being able to focus on pulling off a simple, no-strings-attached heist. it's a relief to have something straightforward to focus her mind on, honestly.

and well, the promise of booze at the end of it doesn't hurt much, either. ]

Yes. I'll only be a few minutes. [ Jacob has absolutely no sympathy. perhaps for Abberline, should he indeed be responsible for the investigation. but even then... he did knowingly get into this line of work, didn't he?

he closes the door and sets about cleaning up as well and as quickly as possible, applying the salve where it is needed (which fortunately is mostly on his hands) and checking himself over for anything serious he might have missed. it turns out that even so simple a thing as changing into clothes that don't smell of smoke and blood is enough to almost make him feel like a new person. for the moment, anyway. he will find some way to forget about all this. ... perhaps whisky is not the wisest choice for that, or the most permanent, but it'll serve just fine.

after transferring anything possibly useful from the old pockets to the new, Jacob emerges from the bathroom looking much more like himself already. so sue him if he's left the wreckage of his old outfit in the bath, he'll toss that out later. he makes a beeline for where he suspects Evie to be waiting and he might perhaps be a little too eager to get going. ] So where's this manor with the overabundance of whisky?

[ Evie is, of course, exactly where Jacob expected her to be, pouring over the heavily annotated map of Dunwall that they've tacked over the top of the most dilapidated wall in the kitchen. she turns slightly when Jacob comes in, her eyes crinkling at the corners somewhat. at least he's looking a lot more like himself again now, even if she suspects what's going on beneath the surface to be an entirely different story.

to business, then. she had better get this distraction going for the both of them. turning back to the map, she taps her finger on a spot ringed in red ink. ] This one. It's a stone's throw away from the Clocktower. Only a small garden, by Estate District standards, but at least that gives us another option for a hiding spot or a route inside should we need it.

[ the inside, as Evie suspects, is a different story. but for now it's possible to ignore, so that is what he'll do. ] Oh, only a small garden? I hope we're not accidentally robbing them blind, then, they're practically poor already.

[ 'accidentally'. the bigger joke is that any garden at all will cost a fortune in Dunwall, as they both know very well. ] How tall is it, do you know?

[ attic windows, more floors and rooms than people in it, people will often lose track of what they've left open. of course, they do need to get to the cellar, but he does still like a bit of sparkle, if they happen upon something or another. ]

[ she smirks at his quip, the curve of her mouth sharp and wicked, before she answers his question. ]

Four stories, plus the cellar we're looking for. [ honestly, what need do people have for that much space in a house? what an ostentatious waste of wealth, even were the city not still half on its knees from the events of the rat plague. ] Thinking of taking a stroll on our way down?

[ #disastertwins catchall post ]

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