cutting_edgex23 | (no subject)

(no subject)

X and Bela emerge from the women's bathroom of a neighborhood diner, X ignoring any speculative looks from a few bedraggled patrons near the back. Pulling all-nighters, whether for work or school, is hell on the appearance. And the social skills.

She lays two tens on the bill at her table, flicks a quick glance and a nod to the waitress, and then heads outside.

It's warm, which is nice. X rolls up the sleeves of her button-down, then pulls a list out of her duffel bag.

"I have set up appointments."

Beat.

"That is okay?"

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Bela avoids touching anything as they walk out into a... really crappy part of town.

"I'm assuming we're going to hail a cab or take the subway to a much better part of town, yeah?"

Edited 2008-11-07 04:40 (UTC)

X just looks at Bela.

"No."

Beat.

"People do not pay attention here."

Well, more like X does not have to pretend as much. It is useful.

"No, they do tend to ignore the screams of crime victims in places like this."

Bela is all about quiet and low-key neighborhoods. You can blend in while living in style.

"Yes."

X stays where she is for another moment or two.

"I lived in New York. It is okay."

And then, with a quick glance at a few nearby street signs, X turns left and begins walking.

"Yeah, I live there now. Look, I know you don't have to worry about the crime rate or the seedy people, but surely you care about roaches and rats swarming about your living space?"

"No."

X's reply is simple.

"There are traps."

Beat.

"And I am careful."

Plus it is not relevant. Even if it should be.

"Oh, God," Bela mutters.

"Well. Lead on. Let's take a look at your choices."

Maybe they can find a diamond in the rough. Maybe.

X leads Bela down another block, stride brisk and purposeful.

It is the best way to discourage interaction.

She does not want to hurt anyone today.

And eventually--

"Here. I think it is upstairs."

Hopefully Bela doesn't mind butcher shops. This one could be trendy!

Um.

Bela makes a face.

"But- it's over a butcher shop. The smell-"

Maybe there isn't a smell right now. But there will be! On warm summer nights when the window is opened? EW.

"Really, I don't think this one is going to be what you want."

X's expression, head tilted and brow furrowed, suggests the question it is relevant?

And after a moment--

"Okay."

Beat.

"There are others."

X still takes direction well. It shows.

Sweet. That was easy! She'll have the girl in a nice place after all!

"Good. I'm glad I came with you, X. I want you to be in a place that's good for you."

A prostitute gives them a dirty look as they walk by. Bela stares her down. Or maybe him. That's an awfully prominent adam's apple there.

X gives Bela a quick, half-surprised sidelong look.

Then--

"I know."

Beat.

"I will be careful."

And if, as they continue walking, X's pace slows for a few moments, neatly interposing herself between Bela and a girl in a bulky jacket--

Maybe she just got tired.

Bela leads her life aware of her surroundings. She knows a thing or two about crime, being a thief herself, so as soon as she notices X dropping out, her gun is out of its holder and in her hand.

She sidesteps away from Bulky Jacket Girl's path, and makes eye contact with X, without breaking stride.

"Looks like we attracted attention after all," she says quietly. Bela doesn't quite fit in this neighborhood; she prefers to be as unobtrusive as X for the most part.

X merely tilts her head a little, watching the girl in the jacket.

Then she flicks a glance at Bela.

"No."

Beat.

"You did."

This pause is longer.

"The gun does not help."

Bela rolls her eyes in annoyance. "If I'd known where we were coming, I'd have worn something much less fabulous."

She doesn't put the gun away, but she doesn't make a show out of it either. It's just there. She can't rely on admantium claws and ridiculous strength.

She could.

She just does not seem to want to.

X does not mind.

This time.

"Oh. I will remember. Next time."

Beat.

"It is not much farther."

And sure enough, soon they are approaching a bakery. It's a little run down, but it's hardly falling apart.

"How quaint."

She looks around this part of the charming neighborhood. Old hotel across the street, car part shop next door. At least a bakery won't stink quite like a butcher's shop. There are fewer sketchy characters around, too. She holsters her gun.

"All right. I guess we can look at this one."

There will probably be roaches.

X pauses a moment, frowning as she looks at Bela.

Then she shrugs, stepping forward to knock on the door next to the bakery door.

The sudden barking is very loud, though X does not step back. She does, however, tense very slightly when the door opens and a black-and-tan head shoves its way between the door frame and the apartment owner's legs.

"What do you want?"

X blinks, just once. "I called. About the apartment. It is okay to visit?"

The man scrunches up his face, half-yawning. "Yeah, sure. She comin' up, too?"

And then he steps aside, leg held out to casually keep the dog back, and lets X and Bela enter.

Bela walks in like she owns the place, which, considering how much the property is probably valued, she could. She doesn't give the dog a second glance, even though it startled her as much as it would anyone. Instead she makes full on eye contact with the owner.

"If you're busy, we can show ourselves around," she says, smiling at the owner and giving him a wink. "You can just unlock the door for us, or even better, give us the keys."

This usually works.

"Uh."

X is already up the stairs, pausing at the landing to scent the air, to listen to the sound of the place. She may also be curious as to how many and what type of neighbors she'd have.

Pot smoke, the sound of children running, and a few gentlemen muttering about something unsavory.

Hmm.

Meanwhile, the apartment owner is giving Bela a thorough once-over. "Well, I guess if you really want to--"

He lets her go up first, because someone'll have his ass if he gives up the keys. She and the kid can hang out by themselves for awhile, though.

He could use a beer.

For a very, very short time as a teenager, she squatted in an abandoned council flat in London with some of her criminal associates. She was young, it was exciting, and God, but it was, when you got right down to it, smelly and miserable.

It smells of boiled beans here. Boiled beans and despair. Surely X can smell it? Or does the pot smoke drown it out? Ugh.

She simpers at the man until he unlocks the door and leaves them the fuck alone. Then she follows X into the flat.

"It's- is it only one room?"

"There is a bathroom."

X slips across the bare and scuffed floor to investigate.

Someone not-X might consider that it needs to be cleaned. Scrubbed, even.

And maybe fumigated.

Bela is definitely someone not-X.

"Oh, X, this place is filthy."

She walks the few steps it takes to get to the tiny (filthy) kitchen. A cockroach scuttles across the floor.

"See," Bela says, pointing accusingly at the roach. "Where there is one, there are thousands."

"There are traps," X says.

She tilts her head, listening to the patter of tiny feet in the walls.

And the floors.

"I have seen them. Here."

Beat.

"They are full."

"You'll need to line the room with them," she mutters. She's not going to even look into the bathroom.

She crosses her arms in front of her and thinks how nice a long, hot shower is going to be when she's done.

"And look, there are no closets. You need a closet, X. I'm not talking a walk-in closet or anything, but you need one."

Of course, Bela imagines a closet to be a place to hang coats and clothes. Not necessarily a place to stash weaponry.