tampered | Log: Closed

Log: Closed

When; Tuesday July 10 (evening)
Rating; ~~TBA~~ PG/PG-13 maybe for language.
Characters; Frederick Abberline and Faye Valentine.
Summary; Uh, he's back? ETA: Faye and Fred reunite, smoke, drink, and take the piss out of each other. Oh, sweet familiarity.
Log;

Finally dry from his arrival in the fountain, of all places, Abberline had spent a decent amount of time lurking (and chatting) about the network. It was surreal, being back. The months he had missed out on were not, as they had been last time, passing about innocently just above his head, but entirely lost on him. He'd been somewhere - alive, but not really. Had he been reborn? Or had he simply been to the real afterlife? He couldn't place it. He could think and think of it, but it was always just beyond his memory - his fingertips could brush it but he couldn't quite reach it.

So, there were more important things to be had - namely, cigarettes and liquor. That was simple enough (even if Cafe Juliet had undergone a somewhat disturbing change) - what he really wanted, however, he knew he'd have to wait until he'd settled in properly enough to hazard going to the edge of the Underground.

He mumbled in thanks to the faceless attendant, walking out with his fresh pack, holding the thing in his hands for a moment, apparently lost in thought.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

In that strange moment of disquiet, Abberline had missed her requesting a smoke - else he'd have of course given her one. He still hadn't gained his land legs, as it were, about the City. In a lurking corner of his mind he wondered if the visions would begin again. Seeing Faye again was a relief, but it also disoriented him. He shouldn't be feeling like this place was home. Should he?

"Many thanks," he said, quirk in his voice as he stepped in, still rumpled and barely warmed-over from his arrival. The familiar atmosphere was relaxing, and he had no trouble finding a private booth for them, in no mood to catch any socialization from any other patrons.

Faye slid into the booth easily, crossing one leg over the other and leaning forward as she drew an ashtray across the table. Flaring up and inhaling deeply, she let her eyes adjust to the semi-darkness, studying the man across from her with a wary eye. Part of her wanted to start firing off questions--where were you? what were you doing? are you really that stupid?--but something held her back.

Odd enough in itself though it was, Faye didn't fight it, tapping her ashes into the tray and looking down as she did so. Out of the corner of her mouth, exhaling smoke as she spoke, she attempted to be cordial: "So, Fred, how've you been? Other than the obvious."

Another odd pause, and he seemed to be lost in thought.

"... I'm not sure," he finally admitted. "I know something happened. I was somewhere. Not here, not at home. But I can't remember. And I feel like..." he trailed off, and shook his head. He crushed out his cigarette when it was only half-done, and obvious sign of how off-kilter he still truly was.

"Like what?" Faye picked up, taking another brief inhale and watching the cherry on the end brighten and die. She was starting to really need a drink, and the fact that he'd stubbed his cigarette before it was even close to being finished gave her pause.

"You sure you're alright?" she finally asked. "You're acting weirder than usual."

Seeming to realize what he'd done with the cigarette, Abberline sat back, blinking as if clearing something from his eyes. He took a moment to order them both a drink. Whiskey, because he knew Faye wasn't the sort of woman to turn her nose up at something strong. It wasn't until the liquor was delivered that he spoke again.

"I feel like wherever I was, I didn't remember anything about myself. Because when I woke up, choking in the fountain, everything was coming as a shock. My head... feels like it's been sucked out and put back in all of a sudden." He stared into the deep amber liquid. "... Sounds stupid, I'm sure, but it's just unsettling. I feel slow, mentally. I don't like it."

Faye clicked her tongue thoughtfully, at his drink choice and also at his little monologue. She could smell the whiskey from here, even took a tentative little sip as he spoke to test the potency. If it made her eyes water and her nose sting, she'd be happy with having it.

"So," she began slowly, running her finger around the rim of her glass before she extinguished her cigarette, "basically, you're saying you've got the worst hangover since birth." She had a feeling sarcasm wasn't going to be on par, however, so she dropped it quick and looked at him. "I don't think it sounds stupid," said Faye. "I don't really think drinking a bunch of whiskey is going to sharpen you up, though."

"Oh but you'd be surprised," he drawled, sipping at his whiskey. His eyes fluttered a bit, as if he hadn't had anything in ages - but the next sip was fine. He sighed, leaning his head back. "Or it could just be withdrawal."

Faye honestly couldn't believe that the shit they were drinking didn't put him under the table. She eyed him skeptically, as if doing this would communicate how much she believed him. As if to prove her point, she hauled down a significant amount, rubbing the bridge of her nose and letting the taste roll over her tongue.

Vile.

"Withdrawal?" she managed, voice deep and hoarse as she tried to swallow the aftertaste. "Never realized you thought of me that way."

((ooc: it's okay! i still love you! ♥))

Even in his current state of malaise, Abberline couldn't help but feel a laugh forming in his chest at Faye's reaction. He slid one of the complementary water glasses over to her, amusement plain on his face. He took another sip, acclimated to it by this point. A lifetime of practically intravenous absinthe use had put him with quite a tolerance - and no matter how many times reborn or redead, it seemed a body never quite forgot such things.

"You're quite memorable."

Not missing the way his expression slightly improved at her discontent, Faye only scowled once more, a little annoyed by the way he simply sat there and sipped his drink like he was sipping morning orange juice or coffee or something. As if she weren't about to be put off by his little attitude, Faye tipped her glass toward her again, watching the way the amber reflected off of the glass.

"Is that right?" she asked, raising the glass to her lips and trying not to breathe. "I don't really know if I should take that as a compliment or not."

"I'll let you decide," he said, raising his glass in a mock-cheers, though it was obvious by the tone of his voice and the softness in his eyes that he was, yes, quite fond of her.

"Better not," she replied, finishing off her drink and indicating to a passerby that she wanted and needed another one. "You never know what I could come up with. Besides, I don't remember you being this do-la-ly over me last time. You might wanna be careful, before I get the wrong idea."

She was fighting to keep the amusement out of her tone, but, really, it was a lost cause. No one was more awkwardly amusing than Frederick Abberline.

"Do-la-ly? Ah, that reminds me," he began, and air of overdone pompousness to his voice, "Who's this Speigel character, anyway?" Oh, yes, he knew exactly who this Spike fellow was, but he wanted to see if he could get a reaction out of Faye.

For her part Faye kept a straight face, though she did drum her nails on the table once, sharply. She shrugged, looking away briefly as another drink was placed on the edge of the table. "Spike? He's," she began, a bit awkwardly, though she was unsure why, "my hairy little problem. He's from back home. Was from back home. He's, uh, my roommate these days."

Making a small 'hmph' sound, Faye smirked and asked, "Why? Jealous?"

Abberline took her new glass and poured half of it into his own, which was now empty. Calling her bluff, or so he hoped: "What if I am?"

Faye was halfway through scowling about her drink when his comment hit her, catching her off guard. "Excuse me?" she said, sounding a little more dumbfounded than she had intended.

The look on her face was, in Fred's opinion, priceless. He kept his own poker face for a few moments before losing it -- well, as much as he ever lost it, which included him lowering his head and laughing breathlessly into his drink, shoulders shaking.

Faye glared. Probably harder than she'd glared in a good few weeks. The fact that he was laughing didn't help matters either. If anything, it only made her irritation seep that much deeper, and as she leaned across the table to swipe his drink because of it, Faye looked up and caught his eye--were those tears she was seeing?

Just before taking her drink that he had stolen, Faye said, "Well you haven't changed. Still a dick and a half, at least."

Fred took a deep breath in and out as he raised his head back up, calming his laughter. "Your face..."

He snagged the glass back and took a drink, but returned it, like a nice man. "I'm sorry, that was terribly cruel of me. You know, before I came here, I'd never so much as look funny at a woman who wasn't an unfortunate. You've broken me of my manners, thus it's only you to blame."

Ordering his own drink, he sat back. "And besides, I'm happy, I know how much you were looking for ... friends from back home." That, at least, was honest.

"Yeah, well, you should see your face," she shot back, still scowling, scowling even more when she realized he'd taken his glass back and was about to drink from it. "And how is this my fault? I can't help it if your morals are outdated. You aren't a goddamn priest, you know."

She was already planning on snatching his next little delivery back to the table when Faye realized she still had half of her own drink to finish. Deciding to wait for his to arrive, she let his words sink in before thinking of how to reply to that.

When she spoke, she did it carefully, so as not to incriminate herself further: "It--it's, uh, different." She paused and smirked. "He annoys me even more than you do."

He chuckled. "I imagine he would."

He got out another cigarette, this time making an obvious face at the taste. "So, what else has gone on while you lot have been deprived of my company?"

She thought, momentarily, to ask about Scarab, but Faye bit her tongue, choosing to let it go until it either needed to be brought up or until he was too drunk to care.

Snorting, Faye only said, "Same old thing. The deities curse us, and we run around like chickens with their heads cut off. I don't really have many, uh, adventures without you anymore, Fred." It was probably a very wrong thing to say, and part of her hoped he wouldn't pick up on it, but far be it from Faye to have very much tact. Especially when he'd just finished laughing at her.

If her remark hit a target, it didn't show. Inspector Abberline was quite used to far worse, from far closer friends - and after all, he'd just finished taking the piss out of her, he probably deserved a little ruffling. Though one thing did give him pause: Faye actually having been taken by his joke enough to be legitimately annoyed with him. He glanced up at her, curious, something flickering through his mind. But then he let it go.

"I'm an interesting fellow," he said, smoothly. "I am unsurprised to know it's been a painful bore without my company."

When she picked up her drink again, she noticed that she had a particularly pleasant buzz in her head, all warm fingers and a smile that was starting to feel a little loose on her face. Faye had never really been good with whiskey, it was true, but she knew how to hide it and hold it. Besides, Fred was so engrossed with trying to make himself look like some sort of pompous ass that it probably didn't matter. Faye knew better.

Taking a quick sip and clearing her throat, Faye said, "I didn't say it's been a painful bore. Now you're just putting words in my mouth."

"Well, I hear the Cult's more or less dismantled, which is a boon upon all of us," he sounded annoyed saying it, but really, it was over his cigarettes - and he slid the pack across the table to Faye, giving them up, and stood, going to harass the bartender to sell him the necessary supplies for him to roll cigarettes that didn't leave his mouth tasting like chemicals.

He returned, triumphant, and took a seat, and then a sip of his whiskey, unaffected by it.

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