002 | CLOSED. join the children of hell.

[norea]

Who: Hasibe Ozcelik, John Mitchell, possibly certain others
What: Hasi drags Mitchell to Gutters, pretending it is "for her protection".
Where: Gutters!
When: Evening, lateish.
Notes: Your log page is belong to Kays.
Warnings: Hahaha uhh. It's a vampire bar and Hasibe exists. Stay tuned.

Ending up at Gutters was always in the plan, for Hasibe. She had made a list of all the bars and clubs she absolutely needed to hit up ("needed" at least in the context of her own mind), and since this place came recommended, it was bumped up a few notches on the list. Cognizant of the danger inherent to the place, she'd even managed to wrangle a companion, though her motivations for persuading him to come along had less to do with her own need for protection--at least, that was how she saw it--and more to do with her desire to push him into interacting with his own kind. It was convenient for both of them...and, for the purposes of particular other activities of hers, gave her ample opportunity to observe the effect recent events had on the population.

There's always an ulterior motive with this one. She sees it as benevolent.

Mitchell probably didn't need the help, though. She'd even admit that, freely. But she has her ways of showing her interest in people, and arranging social situations for them with varying degrees of subtlety happens to be one of them. Once they make their way into the bar, buried as it is in the undercity of Mafaton, she abandons her coat, which means she is fully unveiled in her patently ridiculous white dress with its cut-out spaces, and accompanying towering black leather ankle boots. It's not exactly dressing to blend in down here.

(She gets a little bit of silly entertainment out of wearing pristine white to places where everyone is almost certainly dressed dark. It's a thing.)

"What do you think?" Hasi inquires, smiling at Mitchell. She loves the undercity, of course.

Comments

[norea]

At the top level, they stand towering stories above most of Baedal, and there are exposed beams enough that mincing along is a rickety, semi-dangerous experience. She doesn't seem bothered.

"I like it up here," she says. It's a little bit of a catlike instinct, but she likes the secure feeling she associates with heights. When she refocuses on the topic, it's while sitting down on the edge of a balcony that lacks its actual railing, taking off her high heels to do so (so they don't go plummeting to the ground, presumably).

"What would you do, to find that balance?"

[martyrdomoption.livejournal.com]

"It's quite a view." Mitchell takes a moment to really look at the city glittering all around them. It's completely different from the skyline of any other place he's been: the mismatched buildings, the Skyrail in the distance, the thrum of otherworldly energies powering things not completely unlike electricity pylons.

He takes a seat next to Hasibe on the balcony, legs dangling over the edge. Eventually, he answers her question with, "I'm not sure. I still have a lot of things I need to figure out." Like what is balance, and whether he's capable of it, and whether he really wants it or not.

[norea]

With her high heels propped up on one side of her and Mitchell on the other, she feels relatively comfortable up here. Hasi leans back on her hands, palms flat behind her, and tips her head back, eyes closed, hair falling loose behind her. Although this does have the side effect of exposing her throat, she's not concerned--poison witch-blood aside, it's for other reasons.

"Be careful of what you give up. When it comes to either side of you." Because he is dual-sided now, she thinks, not quite as defined as Jekyll & Hyde, but there are two Mitchells, bleeding over into one another. "I know you can look after yourself, but--there are people who'd want to use you, here."

Her tone suggests she is speaking from personal experience, though not here in the city of Baedal itself.

[martyrdomoption.livejournal.com]

"I think it's a little too late for that," he says quietly, in regards to the last part of what she said. Thoughts of Herrick and Wyndham cross his mind.

He turns to watch her, before asking, "What would you suggest?" Part of him is curious to know what the answer might reveal about her, as much as any beneficial advice he could use.

[norea]

There's a pause, and she opens her eyes, considering him from beneath her lashes, though she does not otherwise move. "You won't like it," Hasibe warns, though this in no way prevents her from continuing.

"You have your instincts for a reason...and the more you hate and fear them for what they tell you to do, the more they'll own you. I don't know what you've done, I won't pretend I do, but--" She bites her lip, here, just for a second. "I've seen some pretty awful things. The way you present yourself sometimes, like at the Inn, makes it harder to reconcile what you say you've done with that image...I don't necessarily know what's real with you yet."

She knows that's kind of hypocritical, but usually she has a better measure of someone after even just a couple of meetings.

[martyrdomoption.livejournal.com]

Quite the opposite; he turns back to look at the city whilst thinking on what Hasibe has said. Both Annie and George knew how bad he could be --sort of, anyway. They never really knew until it was staring them in the face, and even then both of them had been willing to believe that he could be a good person after everything. And they had lived with him on a day-to-day basis.

"Trust my instincts." He idly kicks at the air with one foot. "You could regret saying that."