Silvering Glass

[Fawkes]

The mannequin leaned on the sill of the newest dive he was staying at. The traffic sounds were loud; the neighbours disruptive with the latchkey kids doing their best to play soccer in a parking lot while absent parents either shot up, or desperately worked underpaid jobs with nasty commutes.

Fear was a fantastic motivator. Anger, even better. His porcelain fingers palmed the marble in his pocket, listening as windows rattled in sympathy.

Small comforts, but lately human words were being missed. His footing in the waking world had never been that stable to begin with, but the whirlwind of interactions he had found himself in had slid a few broken pieces back into place. He had gained a small reputation, with a few residents leaving a bag of oranges or some baked goods with thank you notes for his bosses. They watched him closely, as money was exchanged with bad men to put down people just as dangerous.

The rats would come next, whispering how the tenant in 207 had the money but bought another round at the casino; the puta was passing her money to her pimp of a boyfriend, and he wasn't one of Theirs. Anything to draw attention away from their own traps.

It was time to move again.

He felt lost in more ways than one. His fingers brush the note that Mirrorskin handed him instead of the cigarettes, forgetting to add it to the wallet in his haste.

Ring ring.

[Fawkes]

"Busy," he said, sipping on the black tar they called coffee. His fingers tap the table before he balls his hand into a fist. The Elemental stared at the man, beginning to question why he had called.

"How have you been?" he parrots after a lengthy pause.

[Fawkes]

Fawkes blinks, "Did you want to continue this conversation somewhere private?" The limited speech wasn't something he could deal with in the moment. His thumb flicked the cigarette tin unconsciously.

[Fawkes]

Scene change

Fawkes finishes his third cigarette by the time they reach the concrete path along the beach. The weather was clouded for sunbathing and only hardcore Californians bothered in wet-suits out on the water, most of the joggers head headphones in or were busy chatting to a partner. A vlogger or two spoke to an invisible audience as they posed and jumped around in forced excitement, trying to catch angles that complimented the work they put into their appearance.

The nicotine actually provided a bit of a shield, with vaping being the new trend. The few that wandered close grimaced at the smell when it wasn't banana cream, or cinnamon. The Elemental tilted his head at the Darkling, knowing they weren't fond of the time of day. The man had been usually quick to answer his call.

"Trouble sleeping?"

[Fawkes]

"Okay."

Fawkes looks towards the beach and rolling waves as the wind picks up. "John, what's your opinion on company contracts?" The man has established himself with his own coded wording, which probably meant he wasn't talking about capital C and more along the lines of the Pledge variety.