Losing Sucks
Invictus - Crew Commons =>Invictus<=
This is the ship's common room, a place for the crew to relax, eat, and talk. In the middle of the room is a big table with comfortable chairs placed around it. To the port side near the Med Bay's entrance is a simple kitchen beside a basic storage rack for food and drinks. Starboard, the entry to the Crew Quarters can be found, as well as a number of large lockers for the crew's kit storage. To the room's aft are placed some couches opposite to a Cortex terminal and a large screen where currently some sort of gaming console appears to be hooked up. Between the couches, a small table holds some books and other things to read. Finally, to the front near the entrance to the Captain's Quarters, a corkscrew stairway up to the Bridge can be seen.
[Invictus] Grey says, "This is Grey. Anyone who's got the time right now, I'd like ta hold an informal kind of meetin' in the Crew Commons... Just ta discuss some recent events an' the like. Come on down."
Grey is sitting at the head of the large table, crutch leaning against his armrest, himself fully suited and armed. It looks like the armor has gotten a full cleaning since the night of the explosion, and even with his left leg still healing, he looks like a force to reckon with. Beside his chair is Wolf, the full-grown husky pup, sitting obediently.
The chair to his immediate right is empty, usually the spot that Isabella would fill; the spot to his left is empty and waiting for his First Mate, should he show up. Jean-Rousseau is standing and preparing some drinks, while Glenn Wise sits a few chairs down, stoically silent as always, and Kristoph sits way down on the other end, eyes bright and eager.
"Hey, Wolfe," says Tyr-the-vet, happy to see the pup around. "Need a hand over here?" He is making his way to Jean-Rousseau, to see if he might be of some use in the kitchen. "I can get a pot of water for tea on."
Alabaster Smith makes his way, gingerly, out of the med bay, walking very carefully. He's added a cane to his repertoire, a simple black one with a silver knob, which he leans on. Hey, just because he's moving doesn't mean he's quite recovered. He takes the seat reserved for him, sitting down slowly, back ramrod-straight.
It isn't long before Wren appears, climbing up from the cargo bay where she's been spending the bulk of her time. Her t-shirt is decorated in a smattering of green nutrient solution, and there's a bounce to her step as she comes in and finds a spot to sit.
Gabriella meanders in from the direction of the cockpit, eyes drifting over the occupants, coming to rest on the pup, after which her face immediately breaks into a wide grin. "Aw, look at you!" She almost coos... Yep, typical woman, drools over cute men, babies.. and apparently puppies. "How cute!" She says, glancing up to Grey with a grin. "Wolfe, is it? Can I pet him?" she asks Grey, heading in his general direction.
Jean-Rousseau: 5'11", dark hair down to his shoulders, and soft green eyes framed by perfectly circular lenses, with a strong jaw line that is the envy of generations. Tall and strong-looking, still in his mid-thirties, but somehow managing to pull off the completely bookish look at the same time, it's strange to see him preparing drinks and doing the Captain's paperwork. But there he is, smiling to Tyr as he tops off Grey's made-to-order gin and tonic. "I believe I have it all under control," he says to the man with a nod. "Drinks, messieurs et mademoiselles?"
Grey smiles to Gabriella. "Wolf, aye. She's tame, though she don't listen ta me half as well as she does to Tyr. You kin pet her iffen ya'd like." He nods to those making their way in. "Preacher, how's the healin' comin' along?"
Alabaster Smith smiles faintly at Grey. "Frustratingly slow, Ah must admit. Ah'm wishing the Lord had seen fit to make me a faith healer, but such was not in His plan. How're you?"
"Evening, Jean Rousseau." Gabriella says to the Frenchman with a smile, "I'd appreciate a whiskey straight up if you wouldn't mind." She says, turning her attention back to the pup, crouching carefully down to the husky's level, extending her good hand carefully to allow Wolfe to get her scent before attempting to pet and scritch appropriately. "You're just adorable, aren't you." She murmurs, giving a fangy smile of her own to the animal. Glancing up towards Grey, she speaks in a more normal voice. "So, what's up?" She questions from her carefully balanced crouch.
A general smile is aimed in everyone's direction as Wren gets settled on one of the chairs, perching on the edge of it. She watches the conversation quietly for the moment, having nothing of her own to add.
Tyr decides on just water for himself, even as he comes over and offers his hand to Wolf. Wolf takes the hand to 'shake' like a good dog. Apparently something that Tyr taught him. "It's good to see you as well, Mr. Wolf," he smiles. He takes a seat around the table.
Grey grins mirthlessly. "The leg is healing," he says in answer to Alabaster's question. "Grab a seat, an' we'll start," he says to Gabriella, whom Wolf leans into, enjoying the attention. Which is just made all the worse when Tyr gets her to shake, which breaks all discipline for the pup, and she no longer sits still but wants to play with the two of them.
Jean-Rousseau brings Grey his gin and tonic (50-50 mix, three cubes of ice, and a slice of lime), Glenn a glass of single-malt scotch, Kristoph just a Blue Sun Cola; he sets for himself a colorful martini of some sort, and returns with the second round of drinks as ordered by the present crew. Once all the drinks are delivered, he nods to himself in satisfaction, and takes a seat between Glenn and Kristoph, completing the 'new recruits' section of the table.
"Now," Grey says, locking eyes with those present. Somehow, his words convey a gravity and darkness to them not heard before in the Captain's voice. "There's a lot what's happened recently for this ship an' her crew. The events out on Greenleaf. The Lady Antoinette. How's everyone feelin' 'bout things thus far? An' I don' just mean yer achin' back, preacher." He grins to Alabaster again, just as mirthlessly as before.
Alabaster Smith steeples his fingers together, and looks thoughtful. "Things have been... interesting, in the Chinese curse manner," he admits. "But we're all still here and alive and mostly intact. We've had a lot of information come our way, and Ah for one am still trying to puzzle it out. No brilliant conclusions thus far, alas. But Ah still feel good about this ship and her crew."
Gabriella looks up as Grey begins to speak, pulling herself up to her feet to accept the drink from JR, her amusement sliding from her face at his tone. "Thanks." She murmurs to JR, finding a seat in which to curl up, eyes focused on Grey. "I'd be better off if we could see the big picture." She says with a shrug of her good shoulder, taking a sip of the whiskey recently given. "And if I didn't think the Antoinette was trying to kill me." She says dryly.
Wren murmurs a well-rehearsed 'thank you' as Jean-Rousseau passes her a glass of water. Tucking it in between her chest and her updrawn knees, she seems more interested in dipping her fingers into the liquid than actually drinking it. Grey catches her eyes for a moment, but the contact is brief, her gaze sliding away quickly. "I threw up," she announces blandly, still focused on the glass of water more than anything else.
Tyr shifts over to sit near Wren, giving her a supportive smile, though he doesn't say anything more. He just sits and waits for this: "I wish I could do more," says Tyr. "But there aren't any animals involved."
Grey nods, looking about the table to the others as he listens. "So they have," he says in agreement with Alabaster. "Don't much know as ta what kinna work you all got under your belt, aside from what I can remember from lookin' over your resumes. But I think for most a you, since ya come aboard, you've seen underworld dealin's - goin' inta Badger's den, meetin' up with Lilith Del'Dova, havin' Pirates over aboard our ship... Illegal activity, stealin' from the Alliance, shootin' an' killin', gettin' half blown ta bits by a friggin portable nuclear device..." He grimaces a little. "Not yer average job. Not yer average Transport ship. I think I promised each an' every one a you when ya came 'board, that we're a different kinda ship. Family, is the word I used. Loyalty, is the other big one. Now you see why that's important."
"The big picture's comin' along on the Lady Antoinette," he says to both Alabaster and Gabriella. "We're still missin' too much vital information ta piece the puzzle complete. But we're makin' progress, an' that's what's important. Strivin' for the goal." He nods to Tyr. "Aye, I'd like for you ta get more involved, as well. Even if it's not anythin' ta do with animals - a fresh set a eyes, a new bright mind, could be what we need ta make connections that nobody else coulda thought of." And then, to Wren, with a bit of a hesitant pause: "That's... Um. Try not to do that on other ships, yeah?"
Grey clears his throat, leaning forward a bit and laying his hands on the table. "There's a reason I gathered this crew as I did, an' made the choices ta hire who's aboard, an' not hire those I turned away. We're still a fairly new ship - busy, an' hard-workin, as I promised, but still fairly new, still gettin' used ta one another. But here comes a deciding point for all of you. You've had a taste a what this life has to offer. I don't live easy, an' I don't live lawful. But I made the best a my life as I seen fit, an' you all have the opportunity ta do the same, free of constraints."
Alabaster Smith listens to Grey, and smiles briefly, nodding to the Captain. "Ah promised you mah loyalty, Captain, and that hasn't changed. Ah'm sticking with you for the duration. The amount of trouble you get us into, you'll need the Lord on your side, Ah reckon. Ah'm not some lily-livered stick in the mud to go running just when things get a little questionable, after all."
"Well, you folks all seem good enough to me, so I don't see any real reason to back out now, Cap'n." Tyr wrings his hands slightly, even as he glances over at Wren to see how she's doing.
Gabriella leans back, being careful to keep from applying any pressure on her bandaged shoulder, taking a sip from her glass, her legs curling up beside her. She remains quiet during the course of Grey's speech, staying quiet for the moment, content to watch the others and listen to their responses before offering any of her own.
Wren shifts a little on her chair, moving to rest her forehead against her knees as Grey's words pour over her. Yet her arms are relatively relaxed, with no obvious signs of tension or distress. A few murmured words might be echoes of things other people have said, but other than that she makes no comment.
"As God is my witness, someone needs to keep you alive," Jean-Rousseau says to Grey with the twisted kind of smile that only a Frenchman can make, both self-mocking yet ironic at the same time. "And someone needs to help make your dreams come to pass. I have stuck by you before, and will continue to do so." Kristoph and Glenn nod in agreement to the sentiment - Kristoph being silent because he's too shy to speak out at the meeting while still so new and not having met a lot of the people present, and Glenn being silent because that's just the way he is.
"An' my thanks for that," Grey says to Alabaster and Jean-Rousseau. "Trouble, an' danger, well, they jus' come natural ta me. I'm a focus fer those things, ya ken, an' ta be rather blunt 'bout it, I need it in my life. It's the way I was born an' bred, I suppose." Another sip of the gin and tonic as he thinks of how to phrase what's in his mind.
"Now, I'm gonna ramble an awful lot tonight, I gather, but the point of this little meetin' is ta get your thoughts an' find out where yer hearts an' consciences sit on certain matters, so jus' interrupt me or speak in iffen ya want."
"When I started out on my own almost two years ago to the day, I struck out with the shirt on my back an' the knowledge in my brain an' the skills my muscles had learned. I had two goals: the immediate, which was ta get a job 'board a ship, ta keep my stomach happy an' ta get a bed ta sleep in. The long-term, which was to create a network all 'crost the 'Verse, trusted friends on ships an' planets. I think I succeeded fair well in both."
He looks around once more as he speaks - a charismatic speaker, heartfelt, if long-winded. "Somewhere along the way, I found me a wife, had a daughter, an' ended up the Captain of a boat my own self. An' somewhere along the way, I lost a lot a my own values, an' my conscience. An' I fear I may be askin' the same of the lot of you." His voice gets right serious now, as though it weren't before. "Somethin' has happened. My daughter, Gabriella, nearly two years old now, wandered off the ship the other night. She's completely vanished. Disappeared." He lets that one sink in for a moment before continuing, wetting his dry lips with another sip of gin and tonic.
Alabaster Smith frowns thoughtfully, and then states, with a quiet sincerity, "Whether it be business or personal, to make a living, solve a mystery, or rescue an innocent child, Ah'll follow you to the ends of the 'Verse. Ah figure Ah can be of use in ways you haven't even thought about yet." He offers a quick smile. "And we'll find your daughter, whatever happened, and God help whoever's in the way."
Words-words-words DAUGHTER MISSING. That really catches Tyr's attention. His glass clatters to the table and he is rushing to clean up the water. "Oh. Cap'n. I'm sorry. I just. Oh. What the Shepherd said of course. We'll get her back. Oh, boy..."
Gabriella's expression had remained neutral during near the entirety of Grey's speech, until the last few sentences hit her, and her brows furrowed instantly, a scowl crossing her face. "What?" She exclaims, her eyes widening. "When, exactly?" She asks, a few other questions being bitten back, as she chucks the glass on to the table, raising to her feet, moving in the direction of where the laptop is still plugged into the open portion of the cortex console. "And where?" She questions, her lips curled down into a frown.
It's Grey's last words that finally bring Wren to lift her head again and look at him. "I looked. I didn't see," she tells him gravely, not at all surprised at the news. Her head tilts to watch Tyr curiously as he rushes about, a small frown creasing her forehead. "Yesterday. Isabella was sleepin'. And then she woke up. But Gabriella was gone," she explains, her voice soft.
Grey holds up a hand, stilling the flurry of reactions - except for Alabaster's, whose calmness is responded to with a calm nod from the Captain. In fact, for someone whose not-quite-yet-two-year-old daughter is missing, he seems unreasonably calm and composed. "We will, Mister Bannik," he says to Tyr grimly. "Roughly forty-eight hours ago, now," he says to Gabriella. "Here. Eavesdown Docks. Ship security cameras show Gabriella walking down the ramp and wandering out onto the Docks. Isabella's scoured the whole damn area, talked to people, nobody saw her." He glances over to Wren and nods again, slower this time. "You knew, last night, didn't you?" he asks her quietly.
Jean-Rousseau gets up quietly and helps Tyr clean up the spill, the Captain's aide probably already aware of the whole situation; Glenn Wise shows no reaction at all, not even a twitch on that neutral expression of his, just listening to what Grey has to say. Kristoph looks stricken and panicked, but also says nothing for the moment.
"It's my suspicion that my daughter has been taken," Grey continues, picking up from where he left off earlier. "Kidnapped, is the word. Who and why, is the question. And /where/." He finishes off his gin and tonic before continuing. Jean-Rousseau grabs the glass and begins to mix another before it has the chance to sit empty for even ten seconds. "There are a number of enemies that I - and Isabella - have in the 'Verse. The Black Flames, who burnt down the Shipyard and many Vega Enterprises holdings on Newhall, then left her on a cross with holes in her to either burn or bleed, whichever came first. The group of militants who attacked the Temple Pa Kua when I was there last year, and killed most of the monks and students there. Lord Damien Gilbreath. Whoever's trying to cover up the Lady Antoinette mystery. The Tongs, from the Greenleaf incident. Whoever tried to poison and kill me in the Dregs a few months back. An' that's not countin' jus' the natural enemies I made in my time jus' by bein' disagreeable an' whatnot."
A new glass of gin and tonic is laid before him, but Grey pays it no mind for now, and Jean-Rousseau reclaims his seat. "I will go to any an' every action imaginable ta get my daughter back. I will kill whomever I have to, torture, break a man's mind, destroy a man's soul, take innocents hostage, or join the ranks of the Reavers themselves if it meant I would get Gabriella back. An' so it comes to this. You have a choice to make. This is my matter, a personal matter, an' you have no stake in it. If you wanna walk away, now's the chance. Because if you start walkin' down this path with me, I kin pretty much guarantee that ya won't be the same person walkin' out of it."
Alabaster Smith listens to the information, eyes icy and distant as he takes in the details. His fingertips tap together, unconsciously. "Ah've reinvented mahself once or twice before in mah life," he says simply. "Who knows, maybe Ah can keep you from going to excess... and if not? Ah figure the Lord wouldn't mind me sacrificing mahself for the sake of an innocent child."
Gabriella slides down the wall to where the laptop rests, her brows furrowed, though whether in anger or concentration was anyone's guess. "I'll see if I can find anything on video feeds... There has to be a camera somewhere on the docks that was on the Invictus. If there is, you'll have footage for the last three days." She says, pulling the keyboard up onto her knee with one hand, balancing it carefully at just the right angle to allow both her hands to reach it, a rapid flutter and rattle of keys heard shortly thereafter.
Wren nods once in response to Grey's question of her knowledge. "Tried to tell you... She was scared," she adds in that same soft voice before falling silent again, ducking her head. A series of little jolts seem to pass through her as the Captain speaks, and she twists her hands together tightly, knuckles turning white. It takes several moments for her to find her voice and to lift her head again, cheeks slightly damp. "Who'd want to be me?" she asks with a lift of her shoulders, a small twist of her lips forming an ironic smile.
Tyr lets out a soft sigh. "I don't know about torture and all of that, Cap'n," says Tyr softly, pained. "But I want your daughter to get back safe, so..."
Grey glances to Alabaster - if he's surprised by the First Mate's stance, it doesn't show on his face. "Jus' remember, preacher... Beatification don't happen 'til yer dead." He nods to both Gabriella and Wren, taking in their responses as affirmatives. To Tyr, he says quietly, "I'd not ask you to do such a thing, Mister Bannik, nor even ta kill iffen it were 'gainst yer beliefs an' morals. But know, goin' inta this situation, that you might need ta kill in order ta survive, or ta keep Wren alive, an' there's a high chance that we'll die in the attempt, dependin' on who's responsible for the kidnapping."
Kristoph offers a, "I'm in, Captain," in his young and eager voice, though he looks a bit apprehensive; Jean-Rousseau only offers that twisted Frenchman's smile. To Grey's own surprise, Glenn Wise speaks up:
"I lost my daughter, ten years back," he says, his voice surprisingly soft and gentle. "Given the chance, I'd do anything to get her back. Maybe this is God's twisted way of giving me a chance at redemption."
Grey stays silent for a moment longer, letting anyone get in another word, should they want to. "I don' mean ta mark the occasion so grave, nor cast a shadow over yer heads so. But that's the nature of the reality ri' now, an' I'd not drag you unwilling into a thing. Any time durin' this thing, you kin back out. Jus' shake your head, say, That's enough fer me, thanks, I'll be on my way now - an' I'll give ya the closest port a harbor I kin find."
Alabaster Smith says dryly, "Remember, just because Ah talk to the Lord doesn't mean Ah'm eager to be recalled to the home office. Ah'll be doing mah damndest to stay alive as much as possible. And Ah'll continue to take care of the crew as best Ah can. Ah'm in agreement with Gabriella, though... it's hard for someone to vanish into thin air in a place like this. The quicker we start scouring the area, the better. If Ah can move mah sorry self enough, Ah can start questioning the locals."
"I've read a few books on medieval style torture methods in my university days... I'll be happy to transcribe them for you... Or I might be able to find them on the cortex somewhere." Gabriella comments absently, eyes scanning back and forth across the screen in front of her. "I might be all right with all of that in theory, but I should warn you I don't do that well with blood." She says, fingernails continuing the tapping rhythmically and rapidly across the keyboard.
Tyr furrows his brow in a deep bit of thought. "I've killed a fella before, Cap'n. I just -- well. Wren's gotta have someone to look out after her, I suppose, and maybe I could be of some help. So I'll stay."
Grey nods to Alabaster. "Aye, Firs' Mate. That it is. My theory on the matter is that either whoever grabbed Gabriella was camped more or less right outside our ship, an' took her along, or that everyone that my wife talked to las' night is lyin'. Since the latter seems too large a conspiracy, an' far too much left to chance for the conspirators, I'm leanin' t'ward the first. Someone was out ta get us, an' they were ready. I'd wager that they're far off-world by now. But now, instead a lookin' for a lone child wanderin' 'bout, we kin search fer other clues as well."
"Oh, trus' me... I know how ta break a person," Grey says to Gabriella, something dark flashing behind his eyes. "I'm versed in the body in the opposite field of the Good Doctor. An' the mind, as well. But maybe there's a few things in there that I mi' be able ta draw upon. An' they say that classical literature is so neglected these days."
"That's exactly right," he says to Tyr approvingly. "A family looks out for its own. Like an older brother protecting his little sister; like a father watching over his daughter. Like brothers, fighting shoulder to shoulder to defend each other." He leans back a little in his seat, taking his gin and tonic in hand. "That's what I called you all here for tonight. That's what I had to say." It seems that the Captain's longwinded speeches are over... for now.
Gabriella can't help but smirk at Grey's response to her. "I've always been a fan of the classics, myself." She murmurs. "I have to ask..." She says after a brief pause, glancing up from her screen towards Grey, hesitating for a moment. "If there was someone waiting, looking for the chance to snatch her up... And trust me, I know that I might not be doing the best for myself by asking this, seeing as I'm the most recent addition. But what are the chances that someone was feeding information from the inside of the Invictus? Somebody that knew when Isabella was sleeping, timed with when the ramp was down..." Gabriella watches the room at large carefully as she asks the questions, watching for any signs of nervousness, guilt, or twitchy trigger fingers.
Alabaster Smith falls silent as he ponders various options, eyes distant as he runs things through his head. Nothing seems to be springing to mind immediately, it would seem.
"The chances? Low," Grey answers with a noncommittal shrug. "I trust the crew I've hired aboard. Havin' my family on the ship, I don' hire people I get a bad vibe about. An' as... stupid... as this might sound to you, I can see into the souls of people. Right into their hearts an' minds. Not always clearly, but I'm careful." During that answer, Grey locks eyes with Gabriella for a split second, and keeps on looking around the table as he speaks. "Well. That concludes my portion of it. I'll leave you to talk amongst yourselves 'bout things as you please..."
He rises from his seat, and casts one more gaze to those gathered before him. "No, I lied. One more thing. I served as an Alliance officer, and a Pirate officer. Expect this ship to be run somewhere in the middle of the two in upcomin' days. When I give an order, it /is/ obeyed." And now, in this moment, it doesn't take too much of a stretch to see why Grey has a certain reputation about him - especially the one that labels him a sociopathic murderer. That's the deadness that lies behind his eyes, masking all emotions and keeping him completely calm even in the face of his daughter's kidnapping. He expects to kill and kill until he fulfills his mission, or die in the attempt.
"First Mate... You have the watch." Grey turns and heads into his quarters, with Wolf trailing behind him.
Wren blinks rapidly at Tyr's statement she needs looking after, a series of emotions warring for dominance across her face. It takes a long time for her to come up with the single word she has to offer, but she finally does, "Thanks." She falls back into silence as Grey speaks again, watching him with wary eyes.
Gabriella meets the Captain's eyes evenly, her own expression something between neutrality and sadness for a brief second before she turns her attention back to the screen before her, the tapping pausing long enough for her to pull the pack of cigarettes from her hoodie and light one up, then resumes.
Alabaster Smith nods to Grey, quietly. "Try and rest well, Captain, while you can," he says amiably. "You know we'll take care of business in the meantime."
Scrubbing one hand across her face, Wren heaves a great sigh as people begin filtering out of the room. "That was bad," she says, more to herself than anyone left in the room, shaking her head.
"Well, it certainly isn't all sunshine and daisies." Gabriella says to Wren, shaking her head slightly as she watches the others slip out. "Don't suppose you'd bring me my whiskey... and the bottle maybe while you're at it?" She asks, glancing back down to her screen, the frown still evident on her face.
"Sunshine," Wren echoes, lifting her face to an invisible sun, a faint smile on her lips. Glancing back to Gabby she gives the woman a shrug, getting up to pad over to the whiskey bottle JR left out. Snagging the bottle, she then comes back to the table and picks up the abandoned glass, before completing her journey to stand in front of the computer wizardress with her token offerings.
Gabriella manages a small smile at Wren's reaction, tapping out another sequence of codes between the time she asks Wren for the drink and when Wren comes over with it. Leaning back, she looks up and accepts first the bottle, which she sets aside, and then the glass, which she takes a long swallow from. "I can't help but wonder if the timing on this is really coincidental... We're investigating a dozen kidnappings, and the Captain's daughter gets kidnapped?"
Wren fidgets restively, weight shifting from foot to foot as she stands in front of Gabby. "Too young," she points out, folding her arms across her chest and clasping her elbows as she begins pacing. It's a wandering aimless course that orbits Gabby, never too far for comfortable speech. "I didn't know, 'bout the others, when she first went missing," she adds fretfully, brow furrowed in thought.
"Too young to fit the pattern, yes. But not to young to be used as collateral should someone not want the Captain looking into all of this." She says, with a shrug of her uninjured shoulder. "Why didn't the captain tell anybody earlier, I wonder." She muses, taking a long drag from her cigarette before crushing it out, and taking another long drink of her whiskey. "It's not right, taking a child... 'specially one that young." She mutters, before staring back down at her screen, albeit a bit blankly.
"Didn' know," Wren answers after a moment, swinging back in course from one direction to another. "Isabella was scared. I think... She got confused," she says slowly, biting her lower lip in thought. "She ran away."
Gabriella glances up to Wren again, with a frown. "Isabella ran away? Or Gabriella?" She questions.
"Isabella," Wren affirms, dropping her arms back to her sides. "I tried to tell her he wouldn't, but she couldn't listen," she adds with an unhappy sigh.
"That he wouldn't do what?" Gabriella asks of Wren, leaning her head back, setting the glass aside, and gingerly rubbing her bandaged shoulder, the soft rattle and appearance of the orange bottle following. The small white pill is swallowed with a sip of the whiskey, the bottle tucked away yet again.
"Kill her," Wren answers with a grimace, her steps faltering for just a moment.
Gabriella's right brow arches upwards at Wren's answer, though she refrains from comment for a long moment. "She genuinely believed he would?" She asks after a long pause.
Wren frowns, pausing in her wandering to gesture with her hands as if weighing something. "She was scared," she repeats after a moment, shrugging her shoulders. "Makes things jumbled, hard to figure out," she continues, starting to walk again.
Gabriella was silent for a long few minutes, a frown pulling at the corner of her lips as she contemplates Wren's response, occasionally glancing to the laptop on her knees and entering in a few commands one handed, her injured arm hugging close to her chest, small creases of pain visible around her eyes. Again, she looks as if she bites back some acidic remark, instead digging yet again for the cigarettes, offering no further comment for the moment.
Silence reigns over the commons for a time, as both women contemplate their own thoughts. Eventually Wren's wandering feet take her to a couch and she plops herself down on it, breathing a deep sigh as she does. "All the pieces, dumped out on the floor... You have to find the corner, the edges, first," she decides.
"That would be the problem at hand, wouldn't it." Gabriella says to Wren, her eyes closing for a moment as she visualizes the lists of data in her head yet once again. "Let me know if you find one of them, would you?" She says with a small smile, fingers running idly around the rim of the glass, creating a soft hum.
Wren shakes her head slowly, eyes closed as she sprawls across the couch. "I'm not good at finding," she answers sadly. "Good at losing, bad at finding..." she adds, the words taking on a singsong tone.
"Well, I've always thought it important to be a good loser." Gabriella says with a lazy laugh, her head raising up as she looks for the bottle and pours herself another tumbler full of whiskey.
"Why?" Wren asks, opening her eyes again to look at Gabby. "Losing sucks. I hate it," she adds, words unexpectedly vehement.
"Sometimes you have to lose to win." Gabriella says with a shrug. "Sometimes, winning all the time does nothing but make you a target... " She lets out a sigh, taking another long drink from the glass. "And trust me... being the center of attention is not always the joy it's cracked up to be." She mutters, her words lagging slightly.
Wren watches Gabby, a faint frown furrowing her forehead as the woman speaks. "They cancel out, you can't add that way," she says finally, shaking her head. "Somebody's always paying attention, Gabriella," she adds, voice taking on an odd cadence for a moment.
"You're not telling me anything I don't already know." Gabriella says with a sigh.
Take me back to Wren's RP Logs
