There’s a reason why Alexander had chosen this apartment when he had been looking for somewhere to live in the city: the view from the balcony. There were cheaper places to live; places that would have been a lot more convenient for the work commute. But none of them had the view of The Rockies that this place had.
The apartment itself is fairly small, not surprising given the local rents. The entrance leads straight into the living room. One wall is dominated by the glass doors leading onto the balcony. The opposite wall holds the kitchen and utility closet. A closed door opposite the entrance to the flat leads into what it most likely the bedroom.
A couch sits between the balcony door and the kitchen, turned to catch the view. A TV sits on a stand to the left of the door and is currently on, playing music. A book case is tucked into the corner on the other side of the door, loosely filled. A low coffee table sits in front of the couch, topped with a couple of books and a mug of coffee. Judging by the smell in the apartment, the filter coffee maker was only recently fired up. A mobile phone sits on the table too, streaming music to the TV.
Alexander is currently lying on the couch, reading. This could be surprising to some who know him; he’s never been the bookish sort. But he’d thought it time to start at least trying to study for the detective exam.
Ihsan
The night was a peaceful one. The harsh cold spell that punctuated the later half of November had broken and the day had been warmer. A number of people had gone out in hoodies and hats today instead of thick parkas and scarves. When the sun dipped behind those majestic mountains, though, the chill was quick to reclaim the land.
The metal railing leading up the exterior stairs to this particular apartment building was still warm from the day, warmer than the air around it at this time. In the morning it would try to steal skin from the palms that dared to run along it, though.
This part of town wasn't terrible, really. There wasn't much danger of having somebody with a small knife ask for your wallet while you were trying to unlock your car and go home. Alexander shouldn't have to worry about much here, once he's home and settled in and away from the precinct and the other Awakened.
This was probably why it was so surprising when a sharp rapping occurred on his door.
Knock-knock-knock-knock!
Alexander
This wasn’t a place that many of the Awakened even knew about. Sera was probably the only one who had been here, and even then not for long. A couple of her friends – Natalee and Dan – had stayed to keep an eye on him the day that he’d Woken Up and into the night. But since then, he’d tried to keep barriers between his lives.
When Ihsan reached the apartment door, the faint sound of music – the Pink Floyd version of Comfortably Numb, if she recognises it – drifts through. There’s a short pause after she knocks, almost as if someone had just dozed off and been woken up unexpectedly. “Just a minute,” comes the reply.
He takes a moment to stretch after standing, dumping the book back on the seat of the couch, before making the short walk to the door. It swings open, giving Alexander and Ihsan their first opportunity to see each other since their first and only encounter at the police department. Alexander stands there barefoot in t-shirt and basketball shorts, eyes momentarily wide as he sees who his visitor is.
“Well, so much for not shitting where I eat. What are you doing here?” His tone isn’t what anybody would call warm or welcoming, but he hasn’t just slammed the door in her face. There’s no indication that she’s welcome to enter, though. And at least he’s had some warning that she’s one of them now. That alone stops him shutting the door to look for his gun. It doesn’t make him any happier that she’s here, though.
Ihsan
Let's say the apartment was laid out in a way that each door was out into the elements-- the 'hallways' exterior structures that really were just glorified fire exits that everything was connected by. Sturdy, sure, but it was no hallway with lights and walls.
Ihsan stood outside dressed in a black trench coat that stitched in at the waist and was cut at the hip. A dark gray scarf was worn over her head and around her neck. She wore dark jeans and a pair of black boots. Smiled charmingly when he opened the door.
"Apologizing." The word was heavily accented, sounding of desert sands and purring like a death rumble from yellow savanna grasses.
"I thought you were... ah....," the pause for the phrase she was seeking in English. "in on the joke."
She shivered visibly, probably put on for show. It was cool, in the mid-thirties, but not that cold.
Alexander
Alexander stands there unmoving, just watching Ihsan as she speaks. Considering her and what she’d said. It certainly wasn’t the reply he’d expected to get, any more than it was the visitor he might have expected.
“No. I wasn’t.” There’s a subtle softening of his tone, followed by another moment of contemplation. A moment followed by the pushing open of the door and his stepping to one side. This was quite possibly going to be one of those conversations where it’s best to have some sort of privacy. It’s as much invitation in as she’s getting, though.
Ihsan
There's something in the quality of grin that Ihsan wore that made it seem almost like he'd just invited an old storybook vampire over the threshold. She stepped into the apartment and what immediately entered into a living space.
He may have not been friendly about opening the door to let her in, but an invitation was exactly that. And you know what they say about giving an inch.
She stalked into the small space with her hands in her pockets and hunted for titles on books from a distance and paintings on walls or photos in frames. This was all with casual, open curiosity, almost idle as she addressed the point of her visit.
"I suppose you have heard about the Kozlowski murder. Do you simply leave the case open, or do you try to arrest the killer?"
Ihsan's favorite thing to do was rip right into the throat of a conversation, apparently.
Alexander
Alexander lets Ihsan past and pushes the door closed, twisting the lock behind them. He doesn’t return to the couch, doesn’t make himself comfortable. He does step over to the counter that separates the little kitchen from the living room and leans on it, watching Ihsan make her round of the room.
The books give a good indication of what Alexander might find interesting, although some might simply be of professional interest. There is a stack of procedural manuals at the bottom of the bookcase, their heft helping to hold it stable. Then there’s a book on gun maintenance, a couple of teach yourself meditation books. There’s a bigger selection of books on the mountains, on climbing, on hiking, on camping and hunting and surviving; a book on astronomy, a couple of books about owls. The one open on the couch, with its spine bent back, is something on criminology. The room is bare of photos and paintings. Why bother with a painting when you have a mountain staring at you through the window?
Something through the window, though, might catch Ihsan’s attention. An owl sits, perched on the wooden barrier that guards the outer edge of the balcony. It seems to be asleep. There’s some old guano on the floor of the balcony, and several old balls of regurgitated remains dot its surface too.
Ihsan doesn’t spare any time for meaningless pleasantries, and neither does Alexander. “I was taken off the case as soon as the detectives arrived. I kept an eye on things until you turned up.” There’s a short, meaningful silence. “I picked up word that the murderer was probably female, and she had hit several other states. As far as I know, the FBI picked the case after that. What they did or didn’t do, I have no idea.
“Grace told me that everything had been dealt with. That’s all I know.”
Ihsan
There's something in the quality of grin that Ihsan wore that made it seem almost like he'd just invited an old storybook vampire over the threshold. She stepped into the apartment and what immediately entered into a living space.
He may have not been friendly about opening the door to let her in, but an invitation was exactly that. And you know what they say about giving an inch.
She stalked into the small space with her hands in her pockets and hunted for titles on books from a distance and paintings on walls or photos in frames. This was all with casual, open curiosity, almost idle as she addressed the point of her visit.
"I suppose you have heard about the Kozlowski murder. Do you simply leave the case open, or do you try to arrest the killer?"
Ihsan's favorite thing to do was rip right into the throat of a conversation, apparently.
Ihsan
The bookshelf held her interest the longest-- it was in front of this that she ultimately settled, taking her time to read titles more carefully. From this vantage point she spotted the owl outside the window. Paused, surprised by it (but not startled). Looked a little pleased to see it, honestly.
"Ooh, a goose chase. That is good. Did you set them up on that one?" The question was sincere, and Ihsan looked back to Alexander with a curious raise of eyebrows. Whether he did or didn't was neither here nor there. Ultimately she wound up plucking one of the books on hunting and surviving from the shelf and glanced at its back cover.
"Is that Owl out there? Or simply an owl?"
Alexander
“Goose chase?” Alexander cocks his head, puzzled. “I heard that the profilers thought that the killer was a woman, and that the other murders were too similar for it to be coincidental. Disembowelling people and wrapping their guts around their neck is a fairly unique signature, don’t you think?
“What was it you wanted to tell me about the murder, anyway? You said you were there to help.”
The last questions are a little more puzzling. Alexander glances out of the window at the snoozing form. He’d be rousing soon, fluttering off into the night to find food. Although with the move into winter, Alexander had started keeping a small stash of frozen rodents in the freezer. “Owl? It’s an owl, yeah. Was there a particular owl you were looking for?”
Ihsan
"I wasn't sure if it was the spirit of Owl or not. He does come across in manifestations, from time to time." Her slim shoulders jerked up and dropped down again in a dismissive shrug, and the book was tucked back into its same place on the shelf.
"I had known that the murder had something Magickal to it. Grace had told me of it, and that you were investigating it. I wanted to investigate too. Put things right. I hadn't figured that the killer was working toward the balance."
Maybe some things were lost in translation, or maybe she was getting a little lost in her own Paradigm. More likely than not it was a bit of both. She waved her hand in the air to indicate that she was moving on to the next point of the explanation.
"I had figured you wanted to do it on your own because you didn't think I knew what I was doing. It didn't occur to me that you thought I was a Suit."
Ihsan GhaliLAST POSTS
Alexander
“Goose chase?” Alexander cocks his head, puzzled. “I heard that the profilers thought that the killer was a woman, and that the other murders were too similar for it to be coincidental. Disembowelling people and wrapping their guts around their neck is a fairly unique signature, don’t you think?
“What was it you wanted to tell me about the murder, anyway? You said you were there to help.”
The last questions are a little more puzzling. Alexander glances out of the window at the snoozing form. He’d be rousing soon, fluttering off into the night to find food. Although with the move into winter, Alexander had started keeping a small stash of frozen rodents in the freezer. “Owl? It’s an owl, yeah. Was there a particular owl you were looking for?”
Ihsan
"I wasn't sure if it was the spirit of Owl or not. He does come across in manifestations, from time to time." Her slim shoulders jerked up and dropped down again in a dismissive shrug, and the book was tucked back into its same place on the shelf.
"I had known that the murder had something Magickal to it. Grace had told me of it, and that you were investigating it. I wanted to investigate too. Put things right. I hadn't figured that the killer was working toward the balance."
Maybe some things were lost in translation, or maybe she was getting a little lost in her own Paradigm. More likely than not it was a bit of both. She waved her hand in the air to indicate that she was moving on to the next point of the explanation.
"I had figured you wanted to do it on your own because you didn't think I knew what I was doing. It didn't occur to me that you thought I was a Suit."
Alexander“As far as I know, he’s just an ordinary owl. We met a while ago, things happened, and now he’s chosen to make his home there. He might be a spirit; I’ve never actually tried looking at him that way.” There’s a cocking of Alexander’s head as he considers it. Given the strange circumstances of their meeting, it could be a possibility.
The comment about balance gets another cocked head. Alexander may not know vast amounts about the Traditions – hell, he barely knows much more than the name and the stereotypes surrounding some of them – but that does sound familiar from past discussions. “Working toward the balance? How do you mean? I though the murderer was Fallen, not Euthanatos?”
But, then, to the talk of their... well, not ill-fated meeting. That would imply that Fate has some kind of involvement in much of anything. Unfortunate meeting, then. Alexander hops up and perches on the edge of the counter, resting his elbows on his knees. He glances down at the floor, sighing, before he continues speaking.
“Has anybody told you that the Union are starting to take more of an interest in the city? I was warned that agents had already started trying to infiltrate the department. So when someone Awakened mysteriously shows up, asking about a murder case that wasn’t common knowledge; one where there was some trace of resonance at the scene? Well, what was I supposed to think? It’s not like you gave any hints about who had tipped you off.” Now he straightens up, leaning back and resting his hands on the counter behind him. “I rather got the impression you were enjoying whatever little game you thought you were playing.” Now he watches her, watches for her reaction.
Ihsan GhaliAlexander hopped up on the counter, explained his positioning, and commented on her apparent enjoyment in stringing him along down the path of worry and misinterpretation. Ihsan's answer was a big grin across her full mouth.
"Oh, I was," she said matter-of-factly. Finished with the bookcase, she walked back toward the front of the apartment and stood on the side of the kitchen counter opposite of where Alexander had been, so that the door on out was to her immediate left. Her hands stayed in her pockets for the time being, she didn't rest them on the counter or lean into his space.
"There was a Fallen roaming the scene and causing anguish for many people, yes. She was also responsible for some deaths. But not that death in particular, oh no." She shook her head before carrying on.
"I am Chakravanti myself. That is why I was concerned with the death being unbalanced. Those deaths... they weren't at the right time. But it is sorted out. The Fallen is gone, so she won't be driving anybody toward those murders again."
Alexander“Well, I’ll give you points for honesty if nothing else.” Alexander doesn’t show any sign of humour, of having enjoyed being toyed with then or, as he’s starting to think, now. If anything, the patience that he’d shown was starting to wear a little thin.
He stays perched on the counter, not making any attempt to get away or to move her away. Not yet, at least. What thawing there had been in his voice, though, was disappearing again. “But now the whole issue has been dealt with, and as it appears your attempt to apologise is only so much hot air, I ask you again: What are you doing here?”
Ihsan GhaliThe question of why she was even there came away in a voice that was a bit more chilled again. Social hour seemed to be coming to a close, and the man in his own home and perfectly comfortable and confident in himself there was growing impatient with her nonsense. Why was she there? She blinked thoughtfully at the question, then shrugged her shoulders.
"Call me old fashioned. I wanted to apologize for having you worried for your safety. I hadn't known about your precint being infiltrated. Or about the interest that the Technocracy has shown here. I'm new to the area." It sounded like a good excuse, honest truth or not.
"At this point, though, I'm truthfully just waiting to feel warm before going back out in the night."
A few awkward ticks of silence passed and she tapped the heels of her boots together, then inquired: "So... Do you travel? I am going to London soon. To stop a death cult."
AlexanderThere had been a moment when Alexander had wondered if this was someone who he’d be able to talk to about all things Spirit. Alyssa, the first person he’d really picked anything up from, was long gone. Lucy had vanished without a trace, to who knows where. There wasn’t really anyone else around who he knew well enough to learn from. The moment had passed, though. For now, at least. Maybe things would change over time, as they had with Ian – and hadn’t that been a wonderful first encounter too.
“Ms Ghali. The whole communication thing was FUBAR’d, and you’re not the only one at fault there. You’ve made your feelings on what happened quite clear. But let me make mine equally clear. I do not like being played with. I do not like having Awakened affairs eating into my Sleeper life any more than they absolutely have to, and that includes where I live as well as where I work. So I don’t expect to see you here, or at the station, again. If you need to get hold of me, speak to Grace.”
He hops off the counter and steps around Ihsan, around the couch, to retrieve his mug. “Now you obviously have important things to be getting on with. Travel arrangements and the like. If there’s nothing else you wanted to talk about, please don’t let me keep you any longer.” He returns to the kitchen area, putting the counter between them, before throwing the remains of the mug in the sink and refilling it from the filter jug.
Ihsan GhaliThe woman didn't appear offended by the minor lecture she was receiving about leaving Alexander's sleeper life alone. No tapping on the precinct's front desk, no rapping on his front door either. She glanced over her shoulder at the door itself and raised her eyebrows, as though considering it some kind of a challenge. Whatever that thought process had been went unvocalized, though. She pulled her scarf back up over her head and fastened her coat near her throat, clearly preparing herself to leave as he began to speak of her travel arrangements and how she'd better be on her way.
"Well, let that be that, then. I won't be getting a hold of you through Grace, though. I have my own means of finding people."
Sure, that means was a hermit of a man who happened to be her best friend's boyfriend, but Alexander didn't have to know that. Instead she grinned wryly and took a hold of the doorknob.
"You enjoy your night, Officer Brandt. Perhaps Fate will find us together again."
And as it was highly unlikely that he would stop her vocally or otherwise, Ihsan then found her way out and back into the night
Alexander
“Goose chase?” Alexander cocks his head, puzzled. “I heard that the profilers thought that the killer was a woman, and that the other murders were too similar for it to be coincidental. Disembowelling people and wrapping their guts around their neck is a fairly unique signature, don’t you think?
“What was it you wanted to tell me about the murder, anyway? You said you were there to help.”
The last questions are a little more puzzling. Alexander glances out of the window at the snoozing form. He’d be rousing soon, fluttering off into the night to find food. Although with the move into winter, Alexander had started keeping a small stash of frozen rodents in the freezer. “Owl? It’s an owl, yeah. Was there a particular owl you were looking for?”
Ihsan
"I wasn't sure if it was the spirit of Owl or not. He does come across in manifestations, from time to time." Her slim shoulders jerked up and dropped down again in a dismissive shrug, and the book was tucked back into its same place on the shelf.
"I had known that the murder had something Magickal to it. Grace had told me of it, and that you were investigating it. I wanted to investigate too. Put things right. I hadn't figured that the killer was working toward the balance."
Maybe some things were lost in translation, or maybe she was getting a little lost in her own Paradigm. More likely than not it was a bit of both. She waved her hand in the air to indicate that she was moving on to the next point of the explanation.
"I had figured you wanted to do it on your own because you didn't think I knew what I was doing. It didn't occur to me that you thought I was a Suit."
Alexander“As far as I know, he’s just an ordinary owl. We met a while ago, things happened, and now he’s chosen to make his home there. He might be a spirit; I’ve never actually tried looking at him that way.” There’s a cocking of Alexander’s head as he considers it. Given the strange circumstances of their meeting, it could be a possibility.
The comment about balance gets another cocked head. Alexander may not know vast amounts about the Traditions – hell, he barely knows much more than the name and the stereotypes surrounding some of them – but that does sound familiar from past discussions. “Working toward the balance? How do you mean? I though the murderer was Fallen, not Euthanatos?”
But, then, to the talk of their... well, not ill-fated meeting. That would imply that Fate has some kind of involvement in much of anything. Unfortunate meeting, then. Alexander hops up and perches on the edge of the counter, resting his elbows on his knees. He glances down at the floor, sighing, before he continues speaking.
“Has anybody told you that the Union are starting to take more of an interest in the city? I was warned that agents had already started trying to infiltrate the department. So when someone Awakened mysteriously shows up, asking about a murder case that wasn’t common knowledge; one where there was some trace of resonance at the scene? Well, what was I supposed to think? It’s not like you gave any hints about who had tipped you off.” Now he straightens up, leaning back and resting his hands on the counter behind him. “I rather got the impression you were enjoying whatever little game you thought you were playing.” Now he watches her, watches for her reaction.
Ihsan GhaliAlexander hopped up on the counter, explained his positioning, and commented on her apparent enjoyment in stringing him along down the path of worry and misinterpretation. Ihsan's answer was a big grin across her full mouth.
"Oh, I was," she said matter-of-factly. Finished with the bookcase, she walked back toward the front of the apartment and stood on the side of the kitchen counter opposite of where Alexander had been, so that the door on out was to her immediate left. Her hands stayed in her pockets for the time being, she didn't rest them on the counter or lean into his space.
"There was a Fallen roaming the scene and causing anguish for many people, yes. She was also responsible for some deaths. But not that death in particular, oh no." She shook her head before carrying on.
"I am Chakravanti myself. That is why I was concerned with the death being unbalanced. Those deaths... they weren't at the right time. But it is sorted out. The Fallen is gone, so she won't be driving anybody toward those murders again."
Alexander“Well, I’ll give you points for honesty if nothing else.” Alexander doesn’t show any sign of humour, of having enjoyed being toyed with then or, as he’s starting to think, now. If anything, the patience that he’d shown was starting to wear a little thin.
He stays perched on the counter, not making any attempt to get away or to move her away. Not yet, at least. What thawing there had been in his voice, though, was disappearing again. “But now the whole issue has been dealt with, and as it appears your attempt to apologise is only so much hot air, I ask you again: What are you doing here?”
Ihsan GhaliThe question of why she was even there came away in a voice that was a bit more chilled again. Social hour seemed to be coming to a close, and the man in his own home and perfectly comfortable and confident in himself there was growing impatient with her nonsense. Why was she there? She blinked thoughtfully at the question, then shrugged her shoulders.
"Call me old fashioned. I wanted to apologize for having you worried for your safety. I hadn't known about your precint being infiltrated. Or about the interest that the Technocracy has shown here. I'm new to the area." It sounded like a good excuse, honest truth or not.
"At this point, though, I'm truthfully just waiting to feel warm before going back out in the night."
A few awkward ticks of silence passed and she tapped the heels of her boots together, then inquired: "So... Do you travel? I am going to London soon. To stop a death cult."
AlexanderThere had been a moment when Alexander had wondered if this was someone who he’d be able to talk to about all things Spirit. Alyssa, the first person he’d really picked anything up from, was long gone. Lucy had vanished without a trace, to who knows where. There wasn’t really anyone else around who he knew well enough to learn from. The moment had passed, though. For now, at least. Maybe things would change over time, as they had with Ian – and hadn’t that been a wonderful first encounter too.
“Ms Ghali. The whole communication thing was FUBAR’d, and you’re not the only one at fault there. You’ve made your feelings on what happened quite clear. But let me make mine equally clear. I do not like being played with. I do not like having Awakened affairs eating into my Sleeper life any more than they absolutely have to, and that includes where I live as well as where I work. So I don’t expect to see you here, or at the station, again. If you need to get hold of me, speak to Grace.”
He hops off the counter and steps around Ihsan, around the couch, to retrieve his mug. “Now you obviously have important things to be getting on with. Travel arrangements and the like. If there’s nothing else you wanted to talk about, please don’t let me keep you any longer.” He returns to the kitchen area, putting the counter between them, before throwing the remains of the mug in the sink and refilling it from the filter jug.
Ihsan GhaliThe woman didn't appear offended by the minor lecture she was receiving about leaving Alexander's sleeper life alone. No tapping on the precinct's front desk, no rapping on his front door either. She glanced over her shoulder at the door itself and raised her eyebrows, as though considering it some kind of a challenge. Whatever that thought process had been went unvocalized, though. She pulled her scarf back up over her head and fastened her coat near her throat, clearly preparing herself to leave as he began to speak of her travel arrangements and how she'd better be on her way.
"Well, let that be that, then. I won't be getting a hold of you through Grace, though. I have my own means of finding people."
Sure, that means was a hermit of a man who happened to be her best friend's boyfriend, but Alexander didn't have to know that. Instead she grinned wryly and took a hold of the doorknob.
"You enjoy your night, Officer Brandt. Perhaps Fate will find us together again."
And as it was highly unlikely that he would stop her vocally or otherwise, Ihsan then found her way out and back into the night
