Watch Your Heels

Cast: date: '14 September 2012'
place: 'London Library'
participants: 'Griffin, Huruma'
synopsis: 'Some quiet research is interrupted by a fellow seeking answers.'
log: "\n Scouring neighborhoods does little good when the types you look for seem to avoid you; whether suspicion or otherwise, Huruma can't tell. So, in lieu of alternating time between job hunting and wandering the streets, she has taken some refuge in the library to avoid good old London rain. Honestly, she was not expecting it to be as slick and grimm as it was made out to be. In time, Huruma may find it lovely, but as of now it gets between her clothes and skin and sticks there, wet and irritating. \n\n Situated at one of the screened film readers, jacket to the side and dark sweater closed around her waist, Huruma may be the only one at a desk who is not hunched over it. Annoyingly good posture, for someone supposed to be studying the old newspapers for incidents related to any of the ones she has been put on.\n\nThere really is nothing like a good trip to the library. A good book is worth more than any money around ever will be, and Griffin seems to have found one to his liking. Surprisingly enough, it's Jane Eyre; a classic, and one that he doesn't mind rereading. Settling into a chair near the film readers, he doesn't seem to notice the familiar woman at first, a bit too absorbed in the process of getting lost in a book.\n\nIt helps with the voices that he hears in his head when there's not enough going on.\n\n It's a thankless thing- hearing things when there's not enough, and then hearing too much when stimulation exceeds a limit. Thankfully, London has the space for people to find their own little spot. Not that Huruma doesn't miss nights on the savanna, or a sunrise over a lake. Even the French countryside, at points.\n\n When Huruma finally leans further back from a current inspection of a several-month old publication, the solid chair under her tilts back, and she there balances while stretching her arms out. There is a pair of reading glasses hooked at the front of her top-as it so happens, it also goes clickety-clack over her thigh and onto the floor, disturbing what momentary quiet there was in the films corner. \n\n Air puffing out her nose in a small snort, she moves to pick them up again. Not a need so much as a help, when it comes to fine print.\n\nWhen in such a quiet setting, one can't help but notice every noise, no matter how small it is. Which is why those green eyes lift from the first page of his book, and Griffin turns slowly to peer at the source of the sound. He blinks once, twice, three times, before swallowing and turning his attention back to the book. She just had something she had to do here. It is pure coincidence that he keeps seeing this woman. It has to be…right?\n\nAfter a moment of deliberation, Griffin sighs and closes his book, raising to his feet. He isn't going to make a scene, but he will offer a greeting. That's the least he can do. \"Either you are following me, or fate continually brings us together.\" This is said in a hushed tone, so as not to make too many people glare at him as he dares to speak.\n\n Consolation lies in the fact that her desktop is home to apparent research. She isn't following him whatsoever. Ivory eyes flick up before she sits back again, catching his profile, swallow, return to his book. Hearing him closing it back up brings a smug little expression to her features by the time Griffin actually makes a move. The woman runs her tongue over her teeth as he speaks, lips mostly closed in silent consideration. Both sides remain turned up, amused. \n\n \"An'how do I know you are not th'one following me?\" Huruma looks up now, one hand on the desktop, fingers fiddling with her pen. The other is lain across her lap, one leg over the other. Her brows rise in question, turning his paranoia right around on him, except- without the actual paranoia. \n\n \"I am obviously doing work.\" Her chuckle is throaty, and her tone remains rich even through moments spent in mockery.\n\nThe man looks over the desktop with hooded eyes, before smiling faintly at Huruma. He can be charming, when he wishes to be. \"You seem like you would be hard to find. And if I were following you, I probably wouldn't want to be seen, would I?\" He smirks faintly, looking over Huruma's desk once more. \"We'll just call it fate, or something akin to that.\" He allows a casual shrug to roll over his shoulders.\n\nAgain, his attention is brought to her desk. \"Looks fascinating.\" He lies, too.\n\n \"I don'know, would you?\" Want to be seen. Huruma deadpans, for the most part, unimpressed with his attempts at being subtle. \"If it makes you feel any better- no, I am not.\" Following you. She leans her shoulders back, chin up as she looks him over again. The desk and the film on the screen is here and there about unsolved or prematurely closed murder cases- mostly women, mostly unsavory, mostly violent. \n\n \"Oh… really? I am finding it quite dull.\" Her teeth practically crush the last word.\n\nAnother shrug rolls over Griffin's narrow shoulders. \"If I was following someone, I certainly wouldn't want to run into them. That would be cause for suspicion, I believe.\" He smirks quietly, before turning his eyes back to the screen, skimming the words. \"Looks like you're working on a mystery.\" He tips his head toward the screen, before turning to peer at the woman once again. After a moment, his eyes grow a little bigger.\n\n\"What are you?\" This is whispered, barely audible in the fairly quiet library.\n\n \"Th'same thing you are.\" Huruma answers him nonchalantly, turning mostly back towards the desk, watching him from the side. \"A mystery? One supposes.\" She pointedly does not tell him what he actually wants to know, unfortunately, going so far as to pick her pen back to a notebook she was making notes in. The writing may be an elegant cursive, but not in something he can read. \n\n \"However, I think myself less …tentacled.\" Of course.\n\nQuietly, Griffin regards Huruma with a thoughtful expression wandering across his narrow features. Then, his shoulders raise in yet another shrug, one hand lifting to rub at his moustache. \"A monster?\" This is almost inaudible even to Huruma. \"Do you know what this is?\" He gestures toward his face. \"Do you know what happened to make you and I the way we are?\" He suddenly looks as if he were a lost puppy, and Huruma is his one hope of salvation.\n\nPerhaps he is barking up the wrong tree, but it's nice to have a little hope every once in a while.\n\n \"Yes.\" \n\n Looks like it is the right tree- just a very thorny one. Huruma is in the middle of putting the wire-rim reading glasses back on her face when she catches his pleading sulk coming back at her. The paper she was about to start reading is indeed in fine print- very fine, and it seems like a copy of something very aged. \n\n \"Th'baada-ya. It is what we see in th'mirror, an'what m'people call those marked by th'Giza-Nafasi. Th'place has many names, that is what I called it at home. Being an'seeing baada-ya, is t'be 'after' it. 'After' sighted. You have been there.\" Huruma tries her best, but point is- she is not a teacher. Not by most stretches, anyway. \n\n \"Cursed, Gifted, Touched. People who speak English seem to …name it that. Touched. Th'dark-space is called … 'Gloom'.\" She does seem to hush, however, voice as low as it can get without becoming a whisper.\n\nThe woman's words keep Griff quite entranced, his ears absorbing every little bit of what she says. He remains silent for a few beats after she finishes her explanation, before inclining his head in her direction. \"I remember bits and pieces of that place…\" He frowns, turning his green gaze toward the ground. \"I look like the thing that…'touched' me, when I look in the mirror.\" He suddenly laughs, despite himself.\n\n\"That didn't sound right.\" He rubs at his face, doing his best to keep his mind out of the darker places.\n\n \"It is similar.\" Huruma's face wrinkles a little, trying to decide whether to laugh or ignore it. She decides on the latter, settling for a neutral expression, watching him with those colorless eyes. Not humorless, so far. \n\n \"Th'notion is intimate, but not in that sense.\" Her mouth purses, and she sits up in her seat and motions idly to the empty one over. \"Some remember nothing at all. Imagine.\" Waking up like that. And not having any idea why, or how. Huruma's tone stays low, words somewhat icy. \"You are… not alone.\"\n\nSomber comes back over Griffin's face, the man quietly rubbing at his eyes for a long moment. It's always difficult to even think about this stuff. It's all so out there, and so against what he learned as a child. \"I suppose that puts it in perspective. At least I know how this happened. Though I maintain that ignorance is bliss.\" He would be much better off not knowing what happened, not remembering.\n\n\"There are others?\" He raises his green-eyed gaze back up to Huruma, brows raising.\n\n \"Of course there are…\" Huruma shakes her head at him, as if he were a child pondering existence and not a grown man. She looks down over the paper still in her hand, circling a section as she does so. \"There are others, and then there are Others.\" She words this very carefully, with a purr. \"Wengine, Others. I call them spirits, rather.\" \n\n \"But as for those like us… yes. Many more.\" It sounds as if she is beginning to stop, however. Treading explanations can only go so far before they get too specific.\n\nSensing her reluctance to explain too much more, Griffin offers a small nod. \"Perhaps I could eventually meet some more.\" He smiles faintly, before shaking his head. After a moment, he reaches into his pocket, and pulls out…a business card. It simply has his name and phone number on it, nothing more. \"Let's have lunch some time, my treat.\" This is set next to the screen containing her research, before he moves to stand fully.\n\n \"Perhaps. Plus one, or no?\" Huruma is familiar with the concept. She watches him move, eyes half-lidded. \"I may be new in town — but I am not without.\" She doesn't mention anything to do with lunch. If he wants to buy her something, that is, in the end, his own thing. Unrelated to his desire to meet more of them. \n\n \"I've explained only… to your own benefit. Use your knowledge wisely.\"\n\n\"Your choice,\" is Griffin's response, \"though I wouldn't mind one on one.\" A faintly sly smile forms across his narrow features as he offers one last shrug, before offering a small dip of his head in courtesy. \"Good seeing you again, Huruma.\" He takes one last look at the woman, and then another different look, this one prompting an expression of thoughtful fascination.\n\nAnd then, with a small chuckle, he pushes away from the table, offering a small wave. \"I look forward to our next meeting.\"\n\n\n If she happens to read anything into his smiling or otherwise, she does not signal as much. The dark woman simply pockets his card and cants her head as he moves away. \n\n \"Watch your heels, mister Tully.\" When Huruma finally gives him her departing note, it is a strange one- not 'watch where you step', or 'watch your back'. Whether or not it was intentional- well- he won't be finding out, as she still has to finish using the fabulous resource that is the London Library.\n\n\n"

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