You're fighting as a soldier on their side

[stillaboyscout]

There's been an air of despair in Chicago as of late, clinging to buildings and hanging thick in the air. Even if one has not been directly involved in the affairs of late, they can still feel it. Something is not right.

This has led to Michael Vaughn on yet another run around the city, this time through Grant Park. He's purposely not thinking

Comments

[rattle_thecages]

Rachel has spent an inordinate amount of time researching everything she possibly can since the news broke in the journals. Sleep eludes her and tension takes its place. It's caused by her driven nature, her desire to help, the refusal to be made useless in such a situation. But if she's to help she wants to be as prepared as possible.

It may be a delayed reaction, but it's finally sinking in there's no going back and this is her life now. The job that she loved and the city she loved and everyone left behind are all denied to her. And she hates herself for the selfish thought, when so many people are in pain, and so much is needed.

Rachel swallows thickly as she walks toward the woman offering cookies. Rachel had decided on a small coffee break when she heard someone playing the piano. She smiles a tired and thin smile as she stops to listen. She doesn't say anything at first.

[cookiesandhugs]

Gladys doesn't even look up at first. She's far too busy trying to hit the right keys with both hands now. She's very good with the whole 'right hand only' parts, but the minute she tries to throw in that tricky left hand... things get messy.

She finally does glance up, though, and smiles warmly at Rachel. "Have a cookie, dear," she says. "Do you play piano?"

Her fingers could use a rest anyway.

[rattle_thecages]

Rachel was content with just standing back and listening. It let her thoughts scatter until they also elude her and she's left with piano notes. It's silly, but the warm smile makes her eyes brighten. She decides it's because she needs sleep.

Taking the cookie even if she isn't particularly hungry, she gives the woman a faint laugh. "I'm afraid not. I don't have the talent."

"Thank you. I'm Rachel," she says quietly.

[cookiesandhugs]

Gladys giggles. "I don't really have the talent either," she admits. "But I think if I work hard enough, I can really do it. I mean, I'm working on it right now. It doesn't sound very good yet, but it will get there. It will." She nods insistently.

"You're very welcome, Rachel. I'm Gladys." She continues to smile, even though she knows something's a little off. "Are you all right?"

[findaconstant]

Dan does not want Gladys to stop playing. He wants to stay here and watch her and feel all proud, but... cookies. And they're not just any cookies! They're Gladys-cookies.

Maybe she won't notice, if he's careful enough.

Testing this theory in 3, 2, 1 -

[cookiesandhugs]

Gladys drops her hands on the keys with a bang the minute she sees a hand going for the cookies, and smiles broadly up at Dan as she quickly pulls away from the piano. "Hello!" she says excitedly. "How are you?"

[findaconstant]

The bang makes him flinch, but she gets a smile in return, anyway. "Hey, Gladys. I'm... good, actually." He says this as though this is something very new to him, and... well, it kind of is. "What about you?"

[cookiesandhugs]

Gladys' smile widens. "That's wonderful!" she says. "I'm doing decently, I suppose." She turns back to the piano. "These scales are rather difficult," she says. "If I go very slowly and press one key at a time, it goes alright, but if I try to go faster and use both hands, it sounds messy." She shakes her head a little, making a frowny face at the keys.

[godtooksides]

Scout isn't the only tense one on that street corner. Not that 'tense' isn't the default state for the angel. He's not sure exactly how long he's been on the street corner, huddled up against the rain. He considered, briefly, heading into the nearby bus shelter, but it was never empty enough for his liking.

He starts when Scout slumps down near him, eyeing her for a good minute or so, as though he's trying to figure out what she is. Which he is. But he doesn't have a jacket, so he's not going to force the wingstubs out. Not that they would do him any good anyway.

"City gets to you," he says after a moment. It's hard to tell whether it's a statement or a question.

[crashiscoming]

Scout makes a kind of whirring noise before responding. "City city all the cities, yeah? Yeah? Gets to, got to, had to, hold to." She shifts so she's just squatting on the sidewalk, head drooping between her knees, while she picks at the ground with dirty and broken nails. She coos at nothing once more.

[godtooksides]

He stares at her for a moment, trying to decipher the words coming out of her mouth, see if there's any hidden meaning in them. Doesn't seem to be, really, not on the surface, but he can remember feeling the same way she's vocalizing -- it still happens occasionally, where he can't get the thoughts straight anymore.

Then a laugh escapes him in one sharp, gunshot exhalation. "All of them, yeah," he says. "Every single fucking city."

[crashiscoming]

Scout laughs too, a high pitched squawk than an actual laugh. "Every city ever seen, twin or not or in-between." She peers between her arms at him and bares her teeth at him in her biggest grin, though the grin has a more predatory feel than anything else.

"New?" she asks. "Inna city, yeah? New feel, new beat, new face, new life?"

[bringme24601]

Javert has holed himself up in the Conrad Hotel basement for the past few days, so he can't help but hear the piano. Determined to end the infernal racket he goes to find the cookies.

It then occurs to him that he hasn't eaten in days as the crippling hunger finally finds its way to his brain.

But there's a sign. In a language he doesn't know yet. So he whips out his French-English dictionary and begins to translate.

After about a minute, he figures out the gist of the sign and is elated. He can kill two birds with one stone.

He then begins to stuff cookies into his face. Do they taste good? Who knows? He's eating them so fast, his tongue barely has a chance to process them.

He finally speaks in very slow, practiced English, "Thank you. Stop... play."

[cookiesandhugs]

Gladys notices the cookie being taken, and she quickly pulls her hands off the keys and smiles up at Javert. "You're welcome!" she exclaims. "I don't think I've seen you around here before. I'm Gladys."

[bringme24601]

Javert only picks up a few words. He hasn't practiced listening yet. He did manage to catch the last bit. Partially because "Gladys" doesn't sound like it could be much other than a name.

"Good day. You may call Inspector Javert ou--or Mister Inspector."

[cookiesandhugs]

Gladys smiles at him. "Well it's lovely to meet you Mister Inspector." She's not going to giggle at his name. She's not going to giggle at his name. "Bienvenue a Chicago, monsieur Inspector."

Her French is less than perfect, but maybe it's enough for him to understand. She hasn't had the chance to speak for a long time.

[trivialsublime0]

Here have a fellow demon, Chance.

Rusty is on the street like he do. He raises an eyebrow at her.

"Thought you weren't in to begging," he says as he walks by her, smoking a cigarrette. "Weren't in to gettin' money lest you deserved it or some dumb shit."

[teenytinyteme]

Chance glares at Rusty. "I'm not," she says. "But sometimes you don't have any options, y'know? It's not like I can get a job where I deserve the money." She eyes him. "Unless you can hook me up with something? I don't really have skills and stuff, but I'm willing to do whatever I have to, and I can learn quickly."