multiversallogs | Growing In the Dark

Entry tags:

Growing In the Dark

Who: Ivan and Ilde
What: Checking in.
Where: Ivan's apartment.
When: Sometime around Sukkardi, give or take.
Notes: None so far.
Warnings: Ditto.

Ivan hasn't been answering his CiD for a few days. In part because, even with Njoki's remedy, his face still feels terrible. In part, however, he's been thinking a great deal. He'd laughed off the growing anti-vampire sentiment for a time, but now it was clear to him that more was going on than simply fear and prejudice. By the time he was well enough to leave his apartment regularly again, he wanted to have a plan in mind, and he had little time for keeping up to date with the Network beyond news postings.

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That seems reasonable.

She steps past him, her hands tucked into the sleeves of her cardigan as she wraps her arms around herself, holding her bag in place against her hip. The flat is relatively familiar, now, and she breezes through it accordingly, claiming the corner seat of his sofa and pulling one foot out of a shoe to tuck it underneath herself.

"What did you do that needs criticizing?"

He closes and locks the door behind her.

"That's a fairly loaded question. But you probably already read about it; I made the papers." He comes and sits in a nearby chair.

A beat. "With the branded holy water?"

Ilde will be the first to admit she's not exactly the most faithful anything, but there's something a bit disconcerting about so explicitly commercializing something ostensibly sacred. Maybe Catholicism lingers more than she thought, which seems unfair when she's not even human and was only baptised because her father thought it would impress a girl.

"That's it. Spray holy water, it was humiliatingly like being maced." He had, for a moment, been afraid of being blinded, but he'd luckily avoided that. If it weren't for Njoki, he would have likely scarred.

"You still haven't told me what happened." He also hasn't said he isn't actually going to, so she placidly continues to push; there are always three versions of something, yours, theirs and the truth. They've already been over how much she likes to know as many of these as she can, and it doesn't seem unreasonable in light of present situations. (Around them, not with them- he could always point out he doesn't owe her any explanation and she'd suppose he wouldn't be wrong.)

The whole thing puts her teeth on edge. It's not that she doesn't understand mistrusting people-eating predators, or even that she imagines vampires to be misunderstood and well-meaning, but in the eyes of all too many people there isn't that much of a leap from them to everyone else. Especially with teeth like hers-

"There's not terribly much to tell. I saw a group of them putting up posters, and I mistook them for what they weren't. Lingering long enough to make a snide remark was evidently all they needed."

For all the fuss about it, it was as well he hadn't hurt any of them, though much less satisfying than the alternative in the short-term.

"Don't make snide remarks at people who're trying to incite riots," she suggests, blandly, sliding her other high heel off and curling up into the corner of the sofa. "Your face doesn't look too bad, though. Other than usual."

"It was worse a few days ago." He leans back. "Luckily I know a good doctor." Sort of.

"I heard more blood suppliers are closing."

She raises an eyebrow but doesn't ask; of course there are doctors for vampires in Baedal. Why not. She went to an apothecary for her own remedy, recently, it's not any stranger. (Possibly less; Njoki is friendlier.)

"That's the rumour. You don't go to them in the first place, do you?"

"It doesn't work like that for me." Ivan runs a hand over his face. "But given that we're a closed system, I've been careful." Which mainly meant taking from willing donors. "They're going to incite a riot on one side or the other."

"Starving predators is counterproductive." It's so matter of fact, the way she frames it and the way she says it. Take away the safe food source and they've got to find another, and then you have the problem you were so worried about...

She doubts there wasn't a problem in the first place, mind, but this isn't a strategy with an eye to the long term.

"Yes. At first, I suspected they were just stupid, but now I'm not certain."

Based on his brief encounter, and what he's read since, they don't strike him as anything but deliberate and well-planned.

"They sound like idiots." Well, they do; she's read the posters, seen some of the media, and she's just waiting for somebody to demand that they think of the children. But the style of it- "What do you think?"

"I think they very much want to appear to be idiots," he says, quietly.

The next question, she supposes, is who benefits from a destabilized Baedal? If they're all trapped in here, the answer could reasonably be 'no one', but that's still not the whole picture and she can see with a bit of thought how someone doesn't necessarily need to have a way out to stand to gain.

That's irritating.

"Well, they've mastered that part."

"Haven't they just." He exhaled. "Was there something you wanted, by the way?"

Oh. Right. That, right.

"Not exactly." It's an evasion, but delivered in the same blandly serene way she says so many other things, the slight awkwardness behind her reluctance to explain herself not immediately as clear as it could otherwise be. She was irritated with herself about coming to check on him in the first place; having to admit she did it when he's more or less fine is not any less irritating.

"I had a late catch-up lesson, and some spare time after it."

"You simply missed my charming company then?" Ivan's not buying that she just happened to be passing by, but the way he presses is almost light, so she can pretend it's a joke, if she prefers.

"Still missing it, actually. Our schedules must be out of sync." ...yes, well. She'd only sent him the two messages prior, it isn't like she's going to have to try and sneak onto his CiD and delete evidence of worry. (She's - probably - above that.)

"Well, my plans for the evenings were mainly trying to work out the conspiracy. Since you're already here, I can probably reschedule that." He raises his eyebrows. "Unless you've anywhere else to be."

"I'm not uninterested in conspiracies." Considering her recent background, one would think. She's not uninterested in Ivan, either, which is convenient given that she's got a free evening to waste on his sofa. "I've still got unpacking to do, but it can wait, too."

"You're not put off by my hideous disfigurement?"

He really must be feeling better.

"You do look like a monkey's arse, but I wasn't going to point it out." Because she's so considerate, presumably; they're very nice people. "Who fixed it for you?"

Ilde has never quite lost the habit of periodically rolling Ivan over and shaking him until information falls loose. As long as he continues being useful in that way, she probably won't, either.

"Njoki." It should be noted that his pronunciation is excellent. "I can give you her number if you want, though she tends to deal with people a bit less..." he gestures. "...alive. At least professionally."

"That's fine. I wasn't asking for me." Isobel's CiD is unavailable, which probably means she's gone somehow (how would be something Ilde would very much like to know), which probably means she should check in on Katherine, too; it'd be good to have something useful to give her while she's there.

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