log; ongoing

[i-themagician.livejournal.com]

When; May 5th, late evening
Rating; PG?
Characters; Clow Reed (i_themagician) and Heinkel Wolfe (priestlynun)
Summary; Two co-workers who hate each other get together over beer and possibly discuss the new guy.
Log;

Clow had been hoping for a while now that Heinkel would either quit or get fired. She was loud, she was rude, and she never stayed after closing to help clean up; she was one of those co-workers that everyone has, the kind that do just the bare minimum of work in order to not get fired. The kind that make even the most cheerful and laid-back person wish that he were a waiter instead of a cook so that he could drive her insane and then replace her. However, Clow really liked cooking (and would probably hate waiting tables), and Heinkel had been working at Seventh Heaven for much longer than he had so he wasn't holding out much hope that she'd be leaving anytime soon.

Briefly, he had toyed with the idea that maybe if he poked at her enough he could get her to have some kind of crisis of faith. Maybe she'd change religions, or maybe by some MIRACLE she'd realize how much of an evil bitch she is and change her ways. After only talking to her about religion maybe once or twice, however, he soon realized that Heinkel's special interpretation of the Bible had absolutely no basis in any kind of logic. It seemed specially formulated to allow her to hate the widest range of people and beings possible, without having to worry about all that "love thy neighbor" nonsense. Understandable, not to mention common, but it meant that Heinkel was pretty much a lost cause as far as being redeemed as a human being.

There was only one solution, then - harass her until something fun happens. Since she had a tendency to bugger off right after her shift, Clow had learned that he had to catch her just before then and offer to buy her beer. It seemed like an equal exchange to him - he got some entertainment and maybe, if he was lucky, a way to keep her after all of the customers had left so that she'd have to help clean up; she got free beer and a reason not to like him. It was perfect.

Checking his pocketwatch and making sure that he was off the clock, Clow hung up his apron before opening the door to the kitchen and peering out. They were technically closed, but there were still quite a few patrons enjoying their last drinks and generally waiting to be kicked out - and also Heinkel sitting at the bar, smoking a cigarette. Quickly and discreetly, he slid over and took a seat next to her before grabbing the bartender's attention and ordering two beers as if he had been sitting there forever. Said bartend knew otherwise, of course, but it would have been cute to be able to surprise Heinkel by just apparently showing up out of thin air.

Comments

[priestlynun.livejournal.com]

Heinkel Wolfe hated this den of debauchery which masqueraded as a bar ... wanted to vanquish each and every one of her co-workers ... secretly yearned to one day exorcise the demon child that was her boss. But what made all the above a bitter pill left lodged in her throat, dissolving into something acidic which burned morning, noon, and night, was that she needed this vile job. A filthy everyday reminder that her precious Church was beaten so low by this foul City, it couldn't even support the few clergy who got haplessly pulled here.

The Iscariot angrily crushed out her dwindling cigarette, at least a few puffs short of when it should've been retired, and lit another one. She'd taken up her usual spot at the bar, the one Heinkel always occupied until some heathen poked her into earning her keep, lounging as unladylike as one could get without being positively uncouth in a skirt as short as the one she was wearing ...

You don't sneak up on someone in Heinkel's line of work, because she hadn't survived this long by not knowing when something like that was afoot. But she merely sidled a glance at the intruder, caught his signal to the bartender, and decided to humor the situation ... wait for drinks to materialize.

The intruder was Clow Reed ... or as Heinkel preferred to reference him, the witchy cook. Admittedly, he was easy on the eyes, and could spout silky words to match. But the Iscariot had long since stopped being surprised at how many people thought evil couldn't come in a nice package. How else did the Devil get his claws into you? Heinkel was sure that when the Antichrist walked the earth, it would probably look and act just like that slick bastard of a witchy cook ...

The beer appeared, and Heinkel smirked at the chilled glass. The demon had been paying attention ... and it was a straight sin to waste good Hefeweizen. The blonde reached out for the drink, leaving a faint trail of smoke from the cigarette still nestled between two fingers of the extending hand.

"If you're trying to bribe me into listening to your sins, witch ..." She chugged the glass, and slammed it down on the bar, cigarette back at her lips for the next drag. "... try a pitcher."

[i-themagician.livejournal.com]

"... Pitcher for the lady, please," he found himself muttering, just loud enough for the bartend to hear. Clow wasn't phased; he was used to Yuuko's and his own drinking habits, although he reasoned that at least they savored their drinks just a little. Still, if it bothered him at all, he didn't let on as he reached for his own drink and took a healthy sip from it.

"Worry not; should I ever feel the need to confess to any sins I will most likely seek a priest, and preferably one who hasn't committed more than I have."

[priestlynun.livejournal.com]

Heinkel bristled visibly. How could this filthy witch possibl-- Hand twitching for the gun nestled at the small of her back, she shot Clow a look over her omnipresent sunglasses which left no doubt the blonde was mentally placing a bullet squarely between those two striking-blue eyes of his.

When the pitcher appeared, Heinkel pulled it to her pursed lips, and drank another "glass", eyes still on Clow. God ... she hated witches ... and their underhanded devilry. But if they wanted to barter more of their vile souls away for divinations which did little but scratch harmlessly at her fortress of faith, who was she to stop them? When the pitcher lowered, a tight leer had replaced her previous expression.

"Maybe you need to scry a little deeper there, pagan. Iscariot are proud of their sin. After all, we shoulder it for Faith and Church." Heinkel paused to nurse the cigarette again, or maybe to let her words settle in, it was hard to tell. "You want to know how many devil-fornicators ..." she said, finger pointed at Clow's chest to leave no doubt about who she was talking about, associated butt sprinkling ash where it may. "... I've sent screaming into the brimstone lakes of Hell?! I would probably even bless your unworthy skull with a number, if I bothered to keep track of trash bound for that eternal incinerator!"

[i-themagician.livejournal.com]

Clow met her bullet-filled gaze with a smile, almost daring her to actually shoot him. Why not? At worst, 'dying' right now would serve only as a bit of an inconvenience - his only real concern was how it might emotionally affect those close to him. Heinkel had more to lose, however - it seemed unlikely that Lyra would keep someone on the payroll who was a horrible worker and murdered other employees, and the City Watch might be interested in going after a killer who they actually had a chance of catching on their own. As much as the thought of murder gave Clow a cold feeling in the pit of his stomach, he reasoned that it might be interesting to allow himself to be killed if he could be sure that the perpetrator would be made to regret it later. Do it, he almost wanted to say to her. Do it and see what happens.

Instead, his words were much more innocent and benign: "Oh, believe me - it's not as if I'm trying to look. The only reason I can tell at all is that murder places such a heavy burden on the soul, regardless of the reasons or circumstances behind it." He paused to take another sip of his beer, or perhaps to let that sink in. "... I must remember to pray for your God to have mercy on you. If he even exists, that is."

[priestlynun.livejournal.com]

A fist came down hard on the countertop, startling a few of the remaining patrons.

Fires of righteous indignation nearly sent Heinkel painting the bar red with heathen blood ... and particularly a certain blasphemous witch's ... but she tried to breath in reason through clenched teeth. The blonde wasn't a regenerator like Father, or a berserker like Yumie ... and Chief had often left her in change of missions for a reason. She knew the Holy Spirit worked in mysterious ways. More often than not, it did fan the flames of faith. But sometimes, it tried to direct the inferno, and even put it out ... you just had to be willing to listen, and heed its call.

The Iscariot turned towards Clow, the arm holding her cigarette still perched on the bar. She leaned closer to him, enough so that the rosary doubled-up around her neck dangled away from her body.

The witch was baiting her. That she knew ... just like that shitty butler. Heinkel had, rather recently, put a great deal of effort into managing her hatred towards that devil. She'd vowed to rob the vile vampire of any satisfaction their encounters gave him, and never let him get the best of her ever again. Mostly, that involved simply ignoring all his Network communications, but still ... that shitty butler had desecrated Father's remains, had killed Yumie, had ... nothing the smarmy witch could concoct would ever come close to rivaling what that Hellsing demon had done to her and hers ...

Heinkel flashed Clow a nasty smile before closing the distance further, blue left staring into blue.

"You wanna run that by me again," she said, lips inches from his, exhaling smoke so it purposefully invaded Clow's nose and mouth. "... witch."

The last word came out in a tight hiss ... made all the more poignant by the sound of a cigarette butt being extinguished in Clow's drink.

[i-themagician.livejournal.com]

The invasion of his breathing air by the stench of low-quality tobacco elicited a snort from Clow in an effort to drive the smoke away from his nose, but then - THEN she fucked with his beer, making it undrinkable.

"Darling," he said, his tone still soft and even although the tension behind it was just barely audible. Since she had invaded his personal space with her face, he reciprocated by very, very gently stroking her chin with his fingers - almost seductively. Perhaps this was a habit he had picked up from Yuuko, or maybe vice-versa; he could be an absolute tease when he wanted to, all the while making it look completely unintentional. "I was merely trying to express my concern for you. You have risked your very soul for the sake of piety and, while that might be a noble cause, I am only worried that putting all of your eggs in one basket like that may lead you to a tragic end."

[priestlynun.livejournal.com]

Hienkel visibly flinched away from his touch with a startled, and smoke-laced, snort ... true to the old cliche, as if burned. Said motion inelegantly jerked the blonde back to her original position, the blasphemy Clow had just spouted lost literally to the air ... because frankly, everything after the touch had bypassed her flustered brain, and been rendered mere noise.

Fucking ... shitty ... with all the smarmy appeal of an oil slick ... WITCHES. How dare they defile-- Just because they chose to have nude orgies in the forest during the equinox didn't give them-- She wanted to thumbscrew those disgusting fingers and watch him bleed out through a bullet wound to the groin!! She ...

... She unconsciously fidgeted further away from Clow, fists clenched and body trembling, fumbling to recover lost dignity while lighting another cigarette. No one touched her without permission, and especially not like that.

"Keep those filthy hands to yourself, Clow," She said curtly, shooting him a livid visage that was inconsistent with, and didn't entirely mask, an odd look akin to innocence having just been visited by a base impropriety ... wounded, shocked, exposed. "Or so help me God, I'll bath them in holy gunfire."

[i-themagician.livejournal.com]

"Forgive me, Heinkel," Clow said, leaning forward in a slight bow and staring into her bluish eyes as he did, his apologetic expression quite genuine. "I mistakenly thought that, since you had your face so close, you simply had no sense of personal boundaries. It really wasn't my intention to molest you in any way; to be honest, you couldn't pay me to touch you inappropriately. I'm dreadfully sorry if I've made you think that I actually want you in any way, shape, or form."

Clow, you see, hadn't been sure whether to apologize for violating the Iscariot or snark at her for invading his personal space and then whining about it. He'd call her on overreacting, but her reaction seemed genuine enough and it really did hurt him that she was acting as if he had squeezed her breasts or felt up her skirt. Sure, his touch had intentionally been somewhat sexual in nature, but he didn't mean to molest the woman. Yet, at the same time, while her having her face so close couldn't necessarily be taken as permission, Clow would have thought that if Heinkel couldn't stand the heat she would have at least had the sense to stay out of the kitchen.