knock knock [rook]

[ocean]

A sharp rapping on the chamber door alerted Ess’s arrival, her one free hand reaching to create the resounding hand. The other hand is full of a stack of papers, hence her purpose here; she needed to speak to Rook. Shifting from one foot to the other before his closed door, a look of annoyance crossed her face. As if it weren’t enough that she had been sent as a secretary of sorts, the Angel wasn’t even home. She was a mechanic, not a messenger. She made things that flew and exploded. This was definitely not her thing.

One foot raps impatiently on the carpeted floor, her loose auburn curls cast over her shoulder by a swift twist of her head. Open the damn door, Rook!

[Rook]

"Hold on a minute, blast"!

Rook heard himself growl as he his belt buckle clicked into place and he shrugged the towel off his shoulders, wet hair sending droplets of water flying as he tried to get dressed as quick as possible. He grabbed the nearest shirt he could reach, the white button up that happened to be hanging on the back of the sofa (representing once again his fabulous organization skills). He'd just gotten back from a patrol, and had been about to hop out of the shower when some noodle started banging on his door.

Impatient whelps. he thought, rolling his eyes as he tied his wet hair back, and answered the door with one hand, appearing disheveled, but hey at least he wasn't covered in dust anymore like he'd been when he'd limped through the door after a particularly nasty bout with a hulking crocodile who'd gotten himself thrown out of a bar, and had decided to romp around town disturbing the peace and making a nuisance of himself.

Rook was about as apt as you got at combat, but being only committed to a minor offense Rook had attempted not to hurt the civillian, and that croc had managed to overshadow even him in size, despite being a drunken oaf he'd managed to send him sprawling into the dust like a kicked puppy before finally being apprehended.

Naturally after that Rook wasn't in the best of moods, but his irritated expression changed into one of recognition when he answered the door. Rook was familiar with most of the fledglings, being the apprentice over seer he had to test them all and witness their graduation, this one however, he was particularly fond of.

"Oh, hello Ess, sorry about the...".

[ocean]

She’d been about ready to throw herself at the door by the time Rook answered. Looking as haphazardly dressed as always, he’d apparently just gotten out of the shower to answer the door. At least he’d bothered to put a shirt on; the last middle Angel she’d visited had answered the door in a towel. She almost gagged at the memory.

“Hey Rook,” she says promptly, a lopsided grin melting on her lips. “I’m supposed to give these to you. Apprentice forms; they need your signature.” Handing him the forms, she allowed her jaws to stretch in a massive yawn. “I’m out of coffee,” she manages to enunciate through her overly-stretched mouth.

Shuffling her feet slightly, she waits for the middle Angel to speak. She wasn’t much of a conversationalist, really; she was a chatterbox at her store, but that was about it. Machines, skyboards, anything that made a wooshing sound was fair game for wordplay with her, but she didn’t think that Rook would much appreciate her technical know-how. Most didn’t, after all.

[Rook]

"Right" said Rook, taking them from her habitually and then with a slight flick of the wrist, stacking them in that unorganized pile on the table near his drawer carelessly. Rook was an older Angel, but by no means interested in paper work, despite the fact that the Elders were constantly badgering him--- Rook do this and Rook do that in steps 1. 2. and 3 blah blah blah---, all he wanted to do was catch the bad guys but the bloody old bats had to make it so damn complicated.

Really, they despise me because they depend on me so much. Bet they'd love to have an accountant or something instead. Wankers.

Ah well, he always managed to get those forms signed, despite how perilously he put it off. His house was cluttered but Rook liked the clutter, it was easier to function admist the mess, and despite raising a daughter on his own, Rook was very much a bachelor, none of Jamie's pragmatic neatness had rubbed off on him. None of Cleo's either for that matter.

Something one of the forms caught his eye, Rook whipped the reading spectacles out of his pocket and peered at the form muttering "Hm, haven't had a marmot apply in a while"..
It was comical, right now he looked more Proffesor than Proffesional killing machine.

In these thoughts about the Council of Elders he'd fallen silent, then he realized Ess was waiting around for him to say something.
He wasn't exactly the social butterfly but hell, he could be friendly.

"You want some orange juice-tequila, then? I'm out of coffee too, but it's the next best thing". Rook also had no apprehensions about drinking on the job, he always had one in the middle of the day to take the edge off.

[ocean]

A wry grin tugged at the corners of her mouth as he just tossed the papers to the side. How much their superiors would love to see their beloved paperwork treated with such disregard, though Ess couldn’t say that she’d have done any differently. She’d had desk duty as an apprentice more than once and if she ever had to answer one more phone call and trill “Angel Headquarters, please hold,” as cheerily as possible one more time, she’d explode.

“You wear glasses?” A giggle erupts from her mouth at the contrasting vision of the middle Angel’s spectacles and his deadly claws that gently clenched the paper he was focused on. If there was anyone she could not see needing glasses, it was Rook. She bet that one weakness killed him; why didn’t he just get surgery or something? There was most certainly something for bad eyes; she couldn’t think of anyone who wore glasses anymore.

Her ears prick excitedly at the mention of alcohol. All thoughts of teasing him are erased as she bounds past him without a word, eventually finding her way to the kitchen after a wrong turn or four. Ripping open every cabinet in reach, she eventually recovers the necessary ingredients, as well as two mismatched glasses. Filling both to the rim with the mixture, she downs the glass in one gulp and hastens to pour herself a second round. “Bottoms up!” she calls, letting Rook know that his drink was waiting.

[Rook]

"Their just reading glasses"! he protested snappishly. But she didn't give him all that much time to defend himself before she was in his house faster than a blinkin' vampire. Well that's what he got for offering a fellow hybrid drinks. It was like the Lucent version of offering an Irishman a drink.

Had ...had she just past him in something a lot like a brown and white blur? Sighing at the hyperactivity of the fledgling he followed her and took the drink from the table sipping at it, and loving the fuzzy feeling that chased his own version of annoying hyperactivity out of his head.

Alcohol and pain killers, the only things that could quell the constant thrumming in his ears. Rook was always so high strung, he heard every sound, and the sensors in his claws sent coordinates and information straight into his head, it was like an eternal migraine.

Thankfully being an alcoholic fit right in with his image, because he diddn't know what he'd do without his bloody scotch, and the occasional fruity liquor mix.

After he'd had a few sips he said again "Their just reading glasses, it's not worth surgery when I only have to use them occasionally". Actually, he used them quite a bit because he was a book worm, but he wasn't going to come out and say that either.

[ocean]

She heard his irritable tone from the kitchen, though she didn’t bother to respond; she hadn’t really caught the words anyway. Lifting the glass to her lips, she sipped a bit more delicately this time instead of tossing the liquid down her throat. She pulled a face at the citrus taste; she wasn’t one for those fruity feminine drinks that were so in style right now. But it was a drink, and she wasn’t about to turn one of those down right now.

She rolled her eyes as Rook came lumbering into the kitchen, her free hand extending to hand him his glass. “Whatever,” she says with a nonchalant shrug. It wasn’t her business anyway. Taking another gulp, Ess lets out a content sigh. The flurry of activity that had been chasing its tail around her mind all day was finally settling down for a nap.

“How’s Zarek?” She asked conversationally, leaning against the counter behind her and gripping the glass with both of her hands. She’d heard about the injuries sustained by the Angel and knew that he and Rook were close; although, Rook wasn’t obviously mourning anything, so Zarek wasn’t dead. Maybe. Hard to tell with the wolverine; he was hard to read like that.

[Rook]

Rook's face did a contortionist act for a millisecond but it settled finally on a nondescript frown.
She's just asking about his injury.
"He's fine I suppose" he said nonchalantly "last I saw anyway".

Rook had actually been avoiding other Angels for the past couple of days, his guts were strangled in a mix of uncomfortable anxiety and horrendous boredom without the tiger, but Ess was good company to have when you needed to be distracted for a few minuites, because she talked and moved so fast it was impossible to concentrate on much else.

Rook did hear a sea gull somewhere outside though and his ears pricked at it as he took another sip.

"He's not going to die, if that's what you mean".

[ocean]

One brow cocked suspiciously at his determinedly passive tone; she knew there was more to the story. Rook and the tiger were close, there was no way he’d talk about an injured friend in such a careless way unless he were trying to hide something. Ess may be a mechanic first and foremost but her affinity for things that beeped wasn’t the only thing that had attracted the Angels to her in the first place. She had keen senses and an all-around knack for picking up emotions, as well as a good female intuition. He couldn’t fool her.

“All right,” she said as he continued on in that frustratingly nonchalant way, “sit down.” She made her way to Rook’s kitchen table and pulled a rickety chair out, seating herself and crossing her arms on the tabletop before gesturing towards the chair opposite her with her chin. Rook was going to talk, whether he wanted to or not.

"Now tell me what's really going on with Zarek or I'll send your electricity haywire." It was the best threat she could come up with at the moment but if it didn't work, she had other options. Like chucking the wrench that currently rested in her belt at his head.

[Rook]

Rook sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, realizing he wasn't going to get out of this one without some ingenuity. There was no way he could tell Ess what happened, it would be unfair to both he ...and Zarek he supposed. But he could inject a little truth into the charade, and perhaps she'd be content with that.

He sat down across from her. Technically, he could just order her to leave, but he had a feeling that'd breed more bad vibes, which he did not need, plus, he wanted the light in his house to read, and who diddn't like toast?

He paused and said in a lower voice

"We had a little disagreement, I was being an asshole, he was being an asshole, it just got out of hand, and we haven't talked since then"

[ocean]

Her eyes bulged with indignant disbelief. “Your best friend almost died,” she said in an equally low voice, ”and you’re not speaking because you’re both assholes?” She allowed him the time space of a single intake of breath before exploding. “Have you both just realized your…er…asshole-ness?” She didn’t mean to offend him, but really. It was unacceptable for there to be a gap in their relationship during a rough time like this.

Her eyes softened slightly as they recognized the stress on his face; Rook obviously understood the gravity of this situation. That, and there was something else going on that he still wasn’t telling her. He’d speak if he felt like it though; she wasn’t going to force whatever was bothering Rook out of him. “Listen,” she said earnestly, leaning forwards to clap a on hand on his shoulder, “you and Zarek love each other.”

Her gaze darted quickly to his face before she rolled her eyes. “And don’t give me that awkward manly shit about not loving your friends. You shouldn’t be fighting.” Removing her grip on him, she leaned back in her chair, balancing it on its two front legs as she folded her arms across her chest.

[Rook]

Rook flinched, guilt overcoming him again, she was right of course, he had been worried sick about Zarek that night after the battle, and hadn't slept at all, but after this he'd been avoiding him purposefully. After coming so close to losing him...it was downright awful.

But he couldn't face the tiger. He just couldn't.

He almost did a double take at "You and Zarek love eachother" but he managed to control his minor heart attack reaction until after she explained, after giving himself a moment to recover he said slowly

"I know. Your right, but... it's...complicated".

[ocean]

She let out a frustrated sigh at his reaction. “Life is complicated, Rook. You just need to buck up and deal with it.” It felt strange to be advising someone almost twice her age on the twists and turns of life, but everyone needed a nudge now and then. Besides, he was being too damn stubborn for his own good. If he didn’t get his head out of the sand and face Zarek, their friendship would never mend and they’d both be miserable for the rest of their lives.

Glancing down at the watch on her wrist, Ess stood up and backed away from the table, pushing the chair back in. “It’s late. I’d better get going. I know the way out.” Walking to the kitchen doorway, she paused for a moment before wheeling around. “Just so you know, Rook…I’m here for you.” It felt odd to say and she felt a slight flush rise to her cheeks at the immaturity of the words, but nonetheless she continued. “I mean, if you need to talk to someone…well, you know where I’ll be.” One hand raises to rake through her untamed curls, signifying how uncomfortable she felt.

Shifting in the doorframe, she offered a final wave of farewell before striding out of the kitchen and towards the door of the apartment, through which she traveled at a rather swift pace. It was late, she was mildly buzzed on orange juice tequila and there was a stubborn skyboard that needed repairs back at the shop. Sounded like a pretty decent night to her.

END SCENE.