Status
With much <3 and affection for Djinn, who indulged my wacky idea and breathed life back into Zodiac one more time...
In the sky, between the clouds, he dreamed about little plastic boxes with labels on them that he'd left behind.
The address was a small, nondescript office building in a neighbourhood full of such buildings; in fact, the entrance almost seemed to disappear between the doors to a rather busy coffee shop and the entrance to a medical professional building boasting all manner of cosmetic surgeries. The door was locked, with a small buzzer to eleven unlabelled offices within the three-story building, though Zodiac had already provided the simple instruction of ‘303’.
After a plane trip, navigating an airport, and a taxi ride, the blazer needed shaking out as he paid off the taxi and shrugged into it.
Blazer?
Full suit, yo. One of those slim fit tapered things with an Italian sounding name but totally off a department store rack. Slicked back hair, a thin tie and aviator glasses set it all off in an ensemble that was a far cry from khakis and a Henley. Greenish eyes squinted, finally zeroing in on building numbers and the buzzer. It'd been a while. Not just Zoey. A for-real safe house. Some actual, you know, professionalism.
Not... like Sacramento.
*BZZZZZZZZZZ*
A click sounded rather swiftly, and the door was opened by a smiling brunette, who quickly ushered him in. “Impeccable timing,” Zoey greeted, “I’ve just loaded a bowl, and the cheese has just finished bubbling over nachos.”
Just beyond the pantsuit clad woman was a mirrored hallway, an elevator and a flight of stairs, though a pair of other doors could be seen a bit further on. The building almost had an odd smell to it, though, not dissimilar from sanitization products with a hint of something spicy beneath it. It was clean, well-lit, and warm wood accents helped to make it feel more inviting than the hospital-smell might otherwise have.
Professionalism... and a bowl.
Yeah. That's the Real McCoy Zoey. Honestly? Some day someone was going to try to impersonate her and have Zero Idea what had tipped them off.
"Zodiac."
The mask cracked into a grin as the glasses came off. Same bluish-green too-wide eyes and a goofy grin. He might have even slouched a little, sucking the clean lines and sharp appearance right out of the suit. Like magic.
"Uh. Yeah. Ummmm. Wait. Do we, shake? Hug? Fist bump?" There's actual concern. Personal protocol had always been tricky waters. "Okay, or just follow. I'll just follow."
Something inside lurched, just a little. Maybe it was seeing Zoey again. Or the smells. Molten cheese deserved it's own circle in hell. Or, dear lord, the prospect of smoking. There are some prices to pay for being... with... a teetotaler.
"Soooo... How are things? Tell me. Tell me everything. You ever hear from Asp?"
And, maybe, there'd be enough 'Everything' to get to the smoking and cheese and eventually... how his things were.
“Just… get over here.” A chuckle left the woman, who simply reached forward to offer a hug, squeezing him tightly as the door was allowed to close. “Star, it’s been too long,” she sighed softly, before stepping back to give him an appraising once-over.
“You look… really good,” there was almost a hint of surprise in her tone, “Have you been working out? Oh, right, yes… well, let’s head upstairs and get comfortable first, shall we?” A few steps more and the brunette had pressed the button for the elevator, which hadn’t moved since she’d gotten there and was kind enough to make itself immediately available. “It’s still a business day, and I’d hate for Miriel to wander through and drag you into one of her many rants.”
Asp… yeah, that was something she’d expected to come up eventually, as with many other things, but it still took her a few moments to respond. “No, not since my wedding. I’ve been concerned, but naturally I have responsibilities here that I’ve had to deal with, and about two million problems with the Mysterium to organize.”
“Ummm, okay, you’re, we’re, that’s a hug, yeah.”
Yeah. It had been too long. And the hugging? Totally not reminding him of any parks. “Ummm, yeah.” He mimed lifting weights as they separated. “A little? Once I got my back problems all sorted out, I guess.”
There was something… More Zoey Than Zoey he couldn’t quite place and maybe stared a little. Contacts? No. It was… more subtle. Like her Take-Charge had been toned down into something more refined and palatable without losing any forcefulness. Neat trick, yo.
“Oh. Nice. Since the wedding. That’s cool. That, you know. She was at your wedding. That she had, like, a date and location.” Swear to Baby Magus he meant that as a joke. That it was all supposed to be funny, just ha-ha, but then he’d kept going into the totally obviously not one hundred percent maybe ninety percent and much closer to only seventy percent joking. Well, that’s not awkward. At all. “Uh. Sorry. Just, you know.” And now they were in an elevator. “Okay, can I just say, that letter was uncool? Can we get that out of the way? You, uh. You kinda hurt my feelings. I mean, I feel uncool just saying that, since I’m here and everything and I didn’t mean to ambush you with that but it just totally slipped out but there it is. Okay I said it. I’ve gotten that off my chest, feel free to ignore.”
Plus.
“And, dude. That urrrrrrrgh. Mysterium. Don’t even get me started.”
Tyria trying to blackmail Zoey in the middle of Consilium? Now that, that would have been epic.
“Good! It’s good to hear you’re taking care of yourself,” she smiled all the more, pressing for the third floor, before pausing as he spoke. Her expression said little, but her eyes spoke volumes in that moment, and despite the pain there, she didn’t shy away.
“You have a right to be hurt,” she agreed, looking away only as the door opened once more to lead the way to the office, “and I encourage you to talk more about it if you want to.” The door unlocked and opened into a room that could have belonged to no one but Zodiac. She had several artifacts in appropriate cases around the room, and the light was soft and ambient so as to cause the aged artifacts any damage.
True to her word, however, the smell of nachos was obvious and emanating from an open door off to one side, where a large couch could be seen. Her more cheery demeanor had drained away a little, though she hadn’t become sullen in any way, even as she looked at him once again and waved a hand to welcome him. “Please, make yourself comfortable. And allow me to at least clarify… she did not attend. Nor did she have a location.”
“I dunno, I don’t need to, like, keep talking about it. Now that, I guess, I’ve said it. It’s been,” fingers popped up in air quotes, “Acknowledged. Or validated. Whichever one it is.”
World’s worst pre-med student. He headed the way she’d indicated, thoughts tumbling over like cards being shuffled. Because the bit about Asp? Helped. Not totally, just a little, but it did.
“Uh, well. Maybe I do?”
Maybe everything was related. Wasn’t the common denominator... him? Loafers got pried off and set by the door and the blazer went sailing over the back of the couch. A whipping noise of the tie being yanked off followed and soon the strip of cloth got it’s Airborne badge as well. What? She’d said to make himself comfy. And when you’ve lived with someone? That means something totally different.
“Okay, can we rewind? To the whole, I have a right to be hurt?” He fell into the couch like a gangly Pinnochio whose strings had been cut and long fingers scrubbed at his face. Almost like taking a mask off. “That’s not to, like, indict you. Indict you.” He repeated the last two words after removing his hands from his face and leaned forward. “Just that. I’m wondering if I’m, like, uh. If I’m Overly-Sensitive. About… Stuff.”
Look. Nachos. Dip. *Crunch*.
“So, ummmm. Can you expand on that? The hurt thing.”
Absolute and Total Coincidence it might also put her on the spot. Totally. Coincidence.
Taking a moment to gather her bong and a lighter, Zoey made her way back, setting it on the table in the room, which was some combination of an office, lounge and kitchen - and clearly saw much use, despite being kept quite clean. A shredder was located to one side, nearly at capacity with paper, and a glass of water was settled on a desk with a quietly humming desktop.
“I’m glad you’ve become so much more concise over the years,” she quipped, before looking at him and offering a sympathetic smile. “I was emotional, Star. I didn’t know how best to say goodbye, and I didn’t want to incite drama between you and Avis by getting all touchy-feely about things…”
Sighing softly, she ran a hand into her hair, “Unfortunately, as such, a letter that ought to have been more cordial, to say the least, was… not. And, moreover, as your friend I should have told you directly. Of course, I had my concerns that it would lead to questioning that would once again create issue between you. It’s fairly natural that you’re hurt, and while I do regret causing it, it tells me you thought well enough of me to have expected better… so thank you for that.”
“Yeah.” Eyes followed the bong in her hands like a dog watching a tennis ball in someone’s hands. “But. Yeah. I kinda… You know, Avis never said anything but like after I read it again a few times I kinda got that vibe? That you had some, uh, friction. Like, not normal friction.” Take it from this guy. Right here. If anyone in the whole world could be an expert on the normal amount of friction each woman inspired. “But that, anyway, maybe I’m wrong but I asked myself, maybe she, that’s you, Zoey, not Avis, maybe she wrote this with the idea that it might be read. By Avis. Like, over my shoulder, or something.”
Communication protocols and Guardians, yo. Speaking of? Insert an awkward silence. That silence that says, yes, of course he thought better of her, that she was totally his second favorite person in Sacramento and probably in Worldwide Top… Three…. List. Unless that doctor in Argentina was still alive… no. Top Three. And that 'cordial' was a really wack word to still use even now and of course she should have told him directly because, because… whatever. Whatever they were, that had sex and smoked dope for months together. Because that meant something.
“You said touchy-feely.” He grinned. A joke. Communication protocols. “Zoey didn’t want to get touchiieeeeeeeee feeeeeeeeeeely.”
It’s a grin that said, okay, she’d admitted it, and was forgiven. That feathers ruffled over words that had resembled a form letter of recommendation from a favored professor were now smoothed.
“What is that, is that a cat scratch?” He waved a chip at her hand holding the bong. “I tried to tell you about those cats.”
Something like panic at the realization that they were running out of Warm Up Convo and coming to the Actual Reason he was there flickered in his eyes.
The bong was lit in short order and she inhaled as she listened to him, soon offering the glass to him though for a moment she wished she hadn’t been holding her breath, because… wow, that was uncomfortable for a moment. As she blew the smoke into the air, she coughed a little as his sudden pace change left her startled. Right. Occasionally Star had the attention-span of a ten year old.
“S-seriously?” she wheezed, before laughing a little. “Yeah. Yeah, I did. I live with actual children these days, not just a bunch of hooligans.” The responding smile was warm, though, and receptive as she followed his gaze to her hand. “Ah, yes, thank the children for that. Our eldest had been learning about Nordic history around the time we got married; as it turns out, kittens were often given as bridal gifts. I’ve got to give him credit, though, he successfully got a cat out of the deal.”
“Dude. We had our share of idjits to fill the cabal roster after you two left.”
Probably nothing like kids, but still. Emrys. Emrys. An eyebrow arched upward as she spoke and he took the bong. Zoey. Got played. Honestly? He could see her loving it. Dreaming of of her own little Mini-Guardian. The inhale was careful, measured. Probably half of what she’d taken in. It’d been a while. Over-smoking and barfing all over her place? Major party foul. Even for ex-caballeros. Eyes rolled upward, more to pick at the next words than for the hit, and he finally exhaled and offered it back.
“Avis asked if fucking other people was cool.”
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