Checking in, meeting's a go?

[citizendamian]

To: polishfan

Work hasn't grabbed you?

I have a boring book and a writing notebook. A friend of mine suggested I try writing stuff down to kind of - put things straight in my mind. Not sure it'll work, but - I could always try it, no?

I'm in line at the little bakery near my place. They have these sorts of pancakes with apples. Racuchy? I believe that's the proper name for them. Either way, I swear they're tasty.

Comments

[polishfan]

"Sounds like a plan." Feuilly grins. "Anything I can grab for you while I'm up there?" And don't worry. He's seen a lot of things in the past that haven't been exactly druggings but weren't good either. Thankfully, they haven't happened to him, personally.

And sure, he has a passion for that sort of thing, but he's not going to go crazy screaming about it either. Fusses are all well and good, but that kind of fuss needs a little more than what he could register on his own.

There's a beat then, and then, he's smiling a bit more sympathetically.

"You okay and all?" You seem...worried"

[citizendamian]

"Nerves, really. It's not - you? I could vent at you, if you want, but -" He moves over to let Feuilly explore a little if he wants. "Did you bring a sketchbook? I'd admit I'm curious."

Damian's still not sure if he'd rate getting ... dubiously arrested and ... he should talk about that with someone. The fact that he isn't quite comfortable what to call it, other than horrible. He's still wrestling, in his mind, with calling it illegal.

"We could get something else too, if we're ravenous. A walk might be good. The apartment, then?" Damian mopped the place down with Yvette's immense amusement before she had to leave again. It was something with the blackmailers. So far, she's said it's not been too bad, and well - she's been passing things on to Mr. Dorian.

Mr. Dorian seems like someone he could talk with. He's just not sure what the rules on that would be. Yvette helped hang curtains in the kitchen, and left him with a kiss on the cheek and a pile of books. Making him swear he'd tell her how it went.

[polishfan]

"I did." Feuilly grins, flipping it open. "And some pencils if...you mentioned writing can help sometimes. Might drawing do it too?" There are, at the start of the sketchbook, a few darker pieces, hungry children with hollowed cheekbones, queuing up outside of factories, or around food sellers, but he's flipping through those pretty fast so there's not a good view of them.

"I think a walk would do us good. I could use the air." Feuilly assures him, smiling. "And sure, something to eat and the apartment seem like good goals to me. It'll be nice to chat a bit, right?"

[citizendamian]

"Right." And to be honest, the sun's a little high for Damian to feel entirely okay with being out. He nudges the door open for Feuilly. "Want to try one of these while they're warm? I do think they're better with coffee." But splitting one while they walk a half block back to his place and he avoids the shadow of the flapping sign near one of the shops isn't awful. He's - been trying to walk on the same side as it, and well - it's a game. The fear isn't as bad.

"I haven't sketched in ages, to be honest. It might. I -" He trails off. "Do you want to hear about - the things back on Lorena Station? Or - I'm half afraid I've said too much. You look about as old as I did when I ran the tunnels in Lorena." Which is a reference the guy won't get.

"That's got to get old, doesn't it?" Why does he hear a dry Victorian voice murmuring about building up his Stockholm syndrome? What would make it better?

[polishfan]

"Sounds good." Feuilly grins, and hey, splitting one while you're walking is pretty nice actually. It's nice to see that Damian's relatively able to handle being around here with some of those distractions like the sign.

"I think I can handle hearing it if you're comfortable telling me." Feuilly answers, quite serious about that fact. "There are...it's different, but I've seen some things that give people pause to talk about too. And sure it does." he agrees to the last, wrinkling his nose. "I mean I DO have experiences too. I promise it won't freak me out too badly."

[citizendamian]

"I was ... I suppose the closest would be a cop? Though here it seems a lot more varied and a lot different. I walked a specific street and listened to complaints twice a week. I was a guard for protests and public meetings in my area. You'd do ropes and set up for parties, and I had three schools I'd check on around lunch time, just to see how the teachers were doing and watch the kids play." Schools were private things, or funded by Moore Imports and Exports. The company didn't want them to be huge, which meant the fees for schools ran higher. You'd get discount tickets from the company store, but - Yvette set up some free schools for people who could not handle that.

Damian half glances over. Easy work, and hard at the same time, but definitely not the same as the grueling work the police here seem to do. "Actual crime mostly would get shifted over to people not from the area. You'd be more of a - witness."

He trails off, splitting one of the puffy pancakes with Feuilly. "And the serious stuff, that didn't go to ExtSec. It'd go to IntSec, who'd be more - uh - the King's men? I don't know what a good term for it would be? A spy?"

[polishfan]

Feuilly nods, listening to those divisions there. It does sound rather like police work save for the breaking things up and handling other situations that get more than a little bit out of hand. "Witness. Interesting. Sort of like the national guard here, when they aren't authorized to fight yet, I'd guess." That was an interesting thought right there. The idea people would send them out to NOT do anything. Then again, it probably ensured for some protection, right?

"Int Sec sound...interesting." He manages, keeping scorn out of his voice fairly well. He doesn't want to start criticizing right away, but seriously, it's not Feuilly's conception of a decent time.

[citizendamian]

"The idea being, I guess, that we were too close. Basically almost like - a priest, I guess? We heard all the stories and ignored the little trespasses, and IntSec were the guys who'd crack down hard on anything that smelled like a rat." Damian's voice cracks in there.

"They weren't all bad. Mostly you never saw them if times were good. They did internet security and company security. Smooth talked the bosses. But - they also dealt with interrogations. Arrests. They were the ones that had a cell that wasn't a drunk tank." Damian's hand is shaking again. "And - I was arrested."