|
    |
It's a nice autumn afternoon and Lindon was in the area browsing books. After getting himself a nice selection, in a bag at his feet, it seemed like a good idea to stop into Mrs. O'Reily's for a nice cup of ceylon with honey before heading home. What's the worst that could happen? It's a tea shop. Perfectly safe.
A perfectly ordinary tea shop with a perfectly ordinary clientele John's cursed arse. Today though he was surprisingly not alone; a questionable man with questionable company. he was really in his element, wasn't he? John still was wearing a wrinkled suit he may have slept in and the distinct aroma of stale cigarette smoke. Still he returned to the tea shop maybe hoping to run across others of his order by convenience, but lo' there was a bit more fortune that somehow seemed to keep falling on his side. "Lindon…Mills." That was omnious a greeting enough.
Tulip has happened into the tea shop. Ok, it's not booze, but right now, she's on the wagon, and so far, planning to stay on it. So she's sitting with a very nice flavored black tea, (lychee, and far more delicate than she was expecting. She has a purse in her lap, the zipper open, and she looks quite relaxed as she breathes in the aromas that may also be opening a few pores. There may be some mental hallucinations going on, involving sand, sea, and cabana boys, but those are always a good thing, if not always as private as one would wish them to be.
"Y'know civilized people drink shite without twigs in it, like whiskey," Cassidy says to John as he wanders in after the man. How does Cass know John Constantine? That is a mystery for another time, and yet he grumbles a bit as he makes his way in, covered from head to toe in jeans, a hoodie, a leather jacket, the hood drawn up and around his face, sunglasses, and leather gloves on his hands. The man would have to be wearing a parka or a snow suit to be more covered up as he ducks inside and looks for a place where sunlight isn't shining through a window.
Lindon looks up, and though he smiles at John, there's something bleak and resigned in his eyes. This day was coming, and there is no Lamont around for him to run interference. "John Constantine," he observes. "What a pleasure to see you again." It's not like John didn't have his charm, in a pathetic stray sort of way, and Lindon's a sucker for pathetic strays. His gaze shifts to Tulip, then to Cassidy, of whom he asks, "Friend of yours?"
Constantine paused and was going to respond to Lindon but instead turned to Cassidy and blinked. There was almost a retort, however there was a tilt of his head, "I won't argue that point with an Irishman." He turned back to Lindon and glanced to Tulip and back again. Inventory done, and a glib answer followed, "For his sake I hope not, but it seems so." He wasn't without awareness of the series of unfortunate events that were left in the wake of his success. He wasn't gleeful on that at least. He was shite at introductions though as that'd require him thinking about something other than what he needed for five minutes. "Tulip. Cassidy. Lindon." That was as good as it was going to get. "Old man still sore at me after I left I take it?"
"Oh, God, Cassidy, you speak like you don't know that whiskey's made from freaking MOSS. You're still drinking plants, they're just fermented plants!" calls out Tulip. "Not to mention, you can do more with pot than just smoke it. I swear, this particular tea's making me hallucinate about some spot out in Bali…that you'd absolutely hate." The woman chin-tips at Constantine, and says, "All you UK boys like to hang around with each other when you're not trying to pick up the locals?"
"Well there ain't moss floatin' in it now, is there?" Cassidy shoots back at Tulip though there's a wide smile that follows as he finds a chair that he can angle just so, avoiding any bands of sunlight pouring in the window. Only then does he take the hood down and run fingers through his hair. He then orders a cup of earl grey with a touch of honey. For someone whos neers at tea, he seems to know what he likes. He leans back in his chair, lifting the front lets off the ground and rocking a bit.
Lindon glances at the three of them as they speak, his long fingers curled around his teacup. To Constantine, he says, "Er, I don't know that he's sore. Concerned, more like. I realize that, with him, it's hard to tell the difference." He sips his tea, then asks tentatively, "How are you doing?" Lamont never said don't talk to Constantine. Letter of the law, he never actually forbade him.
Constantine looked at Lindon curiously as Tulip and Cassidy bandied around semantics and sencha. "Well having known him for longer than I've known most people… well I know when he's mad at me, when he's hiding something, and when he doesn't want to trust me. That's fine. If you could tell him I'm not here to rob him blind it'd be most appreciated, mate." Hey, he seemed earnest enough in that, though he paused looking between his companions settling down for tea of which he ordered his Assam, again, "How's life been treating you these days anwyas?"
Tulip does the smart-ass thing and tilts her cup to show Cassidy the total lack of either leaves or twigs in it. "Much like whiskey, you take the plants /out/ of the drink before you drink it. You just wanna feel like that bald guy from the tv show because you know all the honeys wanted him." She grins at the man, then eyes the other two. "What are you up to, anyhow? Who are your friends?" She's either nosy or wants to be introduced. Could be either. Or she might be considering finding out how much money they have and liberating some of it. Hard to tell.
"All the honeys already want me, and I don't even need to lose me hair fer that, now," Cassidy says with a grin that is all teeth. He then nods toward John and says, "This here is John, and that there fellow is Lindon who I've not had the pleasure of meetin' until now but it seems that he and Mr. Constantine here have some business goin' on that likely is a result of Johnny-boy gettin' himself in trouble again." Again. Clearly he's known Constantine for a while. Funny he'd never mentioned him before.
Lindon's brows lift, and he says, "Oh, I just assumed he was being protective of me. He worries, but I don't think you mean me any harm. I'm afraid I don't know more about your situation with your friend. I only know what I figured out after the fact." He glances to Tulip and Cassidy. With an awkward wave, he says, "H-hi. I'm Lindon. John and I apparently know one another, but my memory isn't so good."
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Lindon." Tulip's accent is as Southern as Cassidy's is Irish. "I'm Tulip O'Hare. This long drink of water is Cassidy. What kind of tea are you drinking?" It's small talk, but Tulip sounds genuinely interested. Cassidy gets a sideways glance, a chuckle, and a comment of, "I think all the honeys are in your tea, at this point."
"Only a dollop darlin', all things in moderation now," Cassidy says to her, looking quite serious; which, for anyone who knows Cassidy, means he's entirely not. Then his attention shifts back over toward Lindon. "Take some sort of a crack to the noggin' that fogged you up or is one of them brain tumors?" He taps the side of his head as though in demonstration of where said brain tumor might reside.
Lindon inclines his head to Tulip and Constantine, and he gestures at his table in case they want to join. A little bit of both," he tells Cassidy. "It's benign, and I'm over the brain injury. There are just bits and pieces missing as a result, but fortunately I've got people around me who tell me what happened. My memory seems to be fine now."
"Glad t'hear you're alright. I think Cassidy's gonna wanna sit further back, he's got some right interestin' allergies that we wanna keep him from. People may be one of them, so further back and further in's a good thing for him. Care to join us?" Tulip's smile doesn't quite reach her lips, but it's evident in her eyes. She takes a long sip of her tea and a look of complete contentment comes across her face. This is lovely tea.
Constantine said drily, "Tea is wasted on Tulip. She just puts a half kilo of sugar in it and ruins it." Impressed by tea in the south while they were there? Not much. Still, he backed her suggestion na dgestured to an open spot at their table, "Lindon, come have a sit down with us. And eh, you may be right. Either I'm thinking your friend doesn't know me that well or too well. Ain't decided." He looked to Cassidy, the tea, Cassidy, the tea, and then the Irishman again. "See you belly ached on the way here but I told you O'Riley knows her tea from burned leaf water, did I not?" Point to teh Irish on the premesis.
Cassidy glances from Lindon over toward Tulip and Constatine and remains right where he is, in a comfortable backward lean that seems a bit on the precarious side. He then looks to his cup of tea, then to Constantine, and then to the tea. He lifts the cup, and while staring at John, he sips from it, daintylike, pinky out and everything. Oh yes, pinky out..and everything.
Lindon rises, gathering up his tea, and he comes to sit with the trio, though he looks uncertain about the whole thing. "Thank you," he says. He pours himself another cup from his teapot and stirs one sugar and one milk into it. "I don't know his mind on everything," he admits to Constantine. "I know he's protective, but I don't know your history or why he'd be so protective in this case. However, I'm my own man. He knows that."
Cheerfully, Tulip replies, "Only if it's cold! And if you don't like it, all the better. More for me. Iced." She says that in the tone of a woman who's heard chapter and verse about how iced tea is an abomination, and why would anyone ruin good tea like that. And worse, a woman who likes doing it just to tweak a few noses. She nods at Lindon, a nod that seems to say that it's about time Lindon joins and welcome anyway. "How'd y'all meet, anyhow?"
Constantine moved his foot off the other chair and nudged it out for Lindon. John's eyes, however, squint at Cassidy. Smart ass. Well done, lad, well done. He summed up the history neatly in his usual vague, accurate, omnious, and unhelpful manner that seemed his trademark almost. "Lamont saved my life in the war and I think has regretted it since. Lindon and I," he looked to Tulip answering her question, "Met while I was on holiday at a bed and breakfast upstate." He drank his tea, but there was no pinky of pretense in which to tease Cassidy with in return. He'd give the old bat that one.
Cassidy just smirks a bit at Constantine and continues to drink his tea in merciful silence. Look at him. Tea drinking. Not a peep. He just watches as the others around him talk for the time being, still rocking on that chair in a way that might, at any point in time, cause him to tip full on over; yet he doesn't.
"I don't remember it very well," Lindon explains. "I was resting after the brain trauma. There's a lot about that time that isn't quite clear, that I found out after the fact. Like knowing John, here." He takes a drink of tea, then tells John, "I know why he's not telling you. It's got less to do with you than you might think." He thinks. "Well, maybe not." There's nothing taunting in his tone, but rather a guileless giving up of facts. His own accent is classic Midwest, straight out of Kansas.
"And here, I thought it's because any of Cass's friends are gonna have to be a bit cagey and definitely dodgy," replies Tulip. At this point, she gets a truly smart-assed grin on her face. "Except you, Lindon, you seem on the up and up." To John, she says, "Who's Lamont?" Then she inhales some tea again, and gets that blissed out look on her face. (And inhaling is actually meaning "she sniffs her tea", not "she guzzles her tea like an elephant after a long trek.")
Constantine locked his eyes back to Lindon. He was on the job but that was crossing into more personal than he'd perhaps advertised. He said with a defelction, "This isn't about me. Why the bloody hell does it keep doing that?" He looked to Tulip with that look of Not helping! he did try to ante up some sort of an answer for her. She did drive the car. He looked to Cassidy and the tea pausing a thought and got up letting Lindon answer the question. Was he listening? Yes. Was he ordering scones? Hell yes.
"That is categorically.." Cassidy regards Tulip with a bit of a squint, ".. accurate." He nods then, and goes back to sipping his tea. And he does sip, all right and proper, though perhaps with less pinky than earlier. "Oi! Get me one a them chocolate chippy ones, mate?" he yells after John as the man goes to get scones. What? They're good!
Lindon eyes Constantine askance. He nods slowly to Tulip and says, "I try. I don't have a beef with anyone. I'm just trying to do well at my job and not make any waves." John leaves him to explain Lamont. His brow furrows. "He's the man I live with," he says. "He owns the house. We're good friends." He nods to himself. There, that's not inaccurate.
"OH! And a chocolate chip cookie, too, pretty please!" calls out Tulip, who seems to be on a roll. She nods at Lindon and says, wisely, knowing that she's probably completely wrong, "He takes in borders? That's kind of him." It sounds good. "What's your job, Lindon? If you don't mind me asking."
Constantine sighed and waved a hand dropping a five-spot on the counter. "Yeah yeah, I have enough to take care of the bloody lot of you." Being selfish and being generous weren't exclusive in his world. "Aaah anything with chocoloate chippies, luv. You're making bad men out of us for craven' em." The older Irish woman blushed a grin and waved a hand but complied. He turned and leand on the counter curious. "What are ya doin these days, mate?"
Cassidy watches Constantine as he goes up to the counter and orders them some chocolate chip baked goods. The smile he gives is sly and delighted. Score. He continues to ship his tea and then out of the blue says, "So yeah, what is it that you do, anyways?" He glances over to Tulip, then to John, then back over to Lindon. "Nothin' wrong with stayin' neutral in things if ye can manage it, but comes a time taht gets awful hard. Good on ye if you can do it."
Lindon looks at the three of them each in turn with deer-in-headlight eyes. His voice is soft, and the cadence of his speech uncertain, like one who doesn't talk to many people. "I'm an archivist," he says, then swallows. Licking his dry lips, he adds, "At the central library. It's my job, to preserve knowledge." He smiles fleetingly. "It's not much, but I like it."
"Librarian? That's a good job, from what I hear. Kinda sexy, in some ways, but only if you wear your hair in bun with horn rimmed glasses and a tight skirt. Or so I've heard." Tulip offers Cassidy a knowing look, implying he's the one who said it, which may or may not be true. She glances over at Cassidy and says, "Who are you declarin' for, anyway?"
Constantine was negotiating scones. It was important, very very important dammit. Finally he brought back a dish with them stacked on there and put it in the middle of the table giving Cass a slap to teh shoulder. "Have at, mate." He sat back into his seat and let Tulip's quesiton get answered first. He squint to Lindon, "Archivist? So you know the old man's collection then do ye? I know the old man is a hard ass, but look, mate, we can really really use the help."
Cassidy reaches over and grabs one of the scones before they even hit the table. He's got one in his gob and another in hand for when he finishes the first one before anyone else can even touch the plate. Grinning around the scone he gives a nod of approval to John and a thumbs up with his free hand. No questionsfrom Cassidy as he instead attempts to push almost the entire scone into his mouth, which is a challenge, but he seems committed to the cause.
Lindon's cheeks turn pink when sexiness is mentioned and he stammers, "I don't have a bun or horn-rimmed glasses." He toys with his teacup. He blinks a bit at Cassidy, glancing slowly aside to John before he says, "I do. Why don't you just tell me what it is you need to know?"
"More's the pity…would you like a bun? We could do wonders with a wig. The glasses could be fixed, too." Tulip can't help herself. Except then John brings back goodies and she quickly claims the cookie she asked for. At least it serves to shut her up for a bit.
|ROLL| Constantine +rolls 1d20 for: 14
Constantine should have known chocolate would spend faster than anything else. Worth more than gold with these guys. Still his eyes were on Lindon and finally he leveled with him. "I don't want to keep anything. I just need to rifle through that damn book to find out what was hunting Aloys. I don't know what he found. I don't know what he was looking for. Bloody hell I don't even want to keep that damnedable thing, Lindon. I just want to find out what he knew that made them hunt him down. He wasn't likable, but he didn't have to die in vain and I made him a promise. I know you know more than you let on Lindon. I seen that much. I didn't forget that from teh first time we met."
Cassidy continues to eat his scone as he listens to all of this. The vampire notices the sun shifting outside which is gradually making that beam of sunlight edge closer and closer to him. He scoots a little to the left on his chair, and then a little more left, and then he moves the whole chair a little more to the left, getting a bit closer and closer to Lindon each time. He smiles broadly around a mouthful of scone. Don't mind the creepy guy in the hoodie and glasses eating scones with gloves on.
Lindon glances around the table again, and damn if Tulip hasn't brought another blush to his cheeks. He sets his cup down when he realizes he's fidgeting with it. "Can I… can I talk about that here?" In front of these two he means, and he gives them an unsubtle nod. For all that he knows about this and that, how to people is not on that list. "I don't remember when we met, but all right. I can tell you the facts, opinion-free."
Tulip quiets down, because now's the time to shut up and listen and gather information. And she clearly has no clue what's going on, so all the better to learn more, right? She nibbles that cookie and sips her tea and kicks Cassidy under the table to quit creeping the poor man out.
Constantine looked down and went to answer Lindon when the scooting of the chair and the kickings got the exorcist to pause and head tilt. Life with these two neve regets old that was for certain. John watched the two screwballs for a moment and while they gave direct a new distinction? He liked them. Glancing back to Lindon he nodded, "They're helpin me. THey know enough."
When Tulip kicks Cassidy under the table he blinks and wrinkles his brow at her from behind his sunglasses, taking them down his nose and says, "Now what the bloody 'ell was that for?" He doesn't seem to have any idea of what he's being kicked for so he offers out the scone in his other hand that he hasn't started. "What? There's more! I'll buy you a damn scone, woman."
Tulip narrows her eyes at Cassidy, up until the offer of scones. The "look" goes away, and she says, "That will be acceptable. Apple cinnamon, please." A smile crosses her face, now she knows how easy it is for her to get Cassidy to buy her food. Not bad for a few minutes' work!
Lindon eyes Cassidy and Tulip again. Southern and Irish, brought together by the language of kicking. To Constantine, he says uncertainly, "The night the spell was attempted, to do the thing with the book, the wards failed. The spell went off-target and the backlash killed him. For what it's worth, it was instant. He was desperate, I know that much, but I don't know what his mind was at the time."
Constantine rubed his stubble jaw shaking his head, "Either someone knew what and where they were, or he told … shiiiite." His jaw set and his hand rubbed at the rest of his face. "I have a feeling someone's stupid caught up with them. Trusting the wrong bloody people. I've got to go back to the house. This is off. All off center. I'll get back to you what I find."
Cassidy smirks at Tulip and looks over at the counter and shouts, "Oi! Apple cinnamon scone for the lady when ya get a moment if ya please, and thank ye." Well, he's sort of half-assed polite, at a distance, with the shouting, but he did say please and thank you. Is Cassidy even paying attention to what Constantine and Lindon are talking about? It's difficult to tell.
Tulip looks damned pleased. And smug. "And the gentleman is paying!" she calls out, just to be on the safe side. "With his OWN money." It never hurts to be very clear about these things. She's paying attention, but doesn't know enough about what John and Lindon are talking about to comment.
"I didn'tk now him," Lindon says. "I only know what he did that night, but you seem to think it wasn't an accident, and I'm going to have to research information I hadn't thought about before." He considers Constantine for a moment. He knows he shouldn't, because Lamont would be driven nuts, but he can't help himself. "Look," he says, "I'll find out what I can, all right? Just don't… don't ever set your sights on the Archive. That's a tree you don't want to go barking up."
Constantine looked to Tulip, "I think assuming it's his money is giving a bit more credit than where it's due, luv." It was enough to bring a bit of a smirk to him. He needed the distraction and frankly that Cass was of as loose in the scruples as he was in that endeared the man to him. "Look, Lindon, I don't care if you're are it's keeper, or if the old man wnats to keep the damnedable thing. We just want the answers. If you go tearing through it or me makes little difference. Keep the bloody thing." He flapped a hand and grabbed another scone. "If we don't? well who's to say who of us is next I suppose. That said, what the shite is wrong with Central Park?"
"So, this Archive, yah?" Cassidy suddenly says and turns his attention fully on Lindon, "What's it got in it? Does it got comic books? Porn?" He squints, leaning on the table and suddenly stuying Lindon with deep curiosity. "Records? Music?" He has no idea what the Archive contains or what it was but he's suddenly deeply curious where for the entire conversation he's barely seemed as though he'd noticed anything without a chocolate chip in it.
"It's not my money. That's the most important part, to me," Tulip replies to Constantine with a smile. She glances at Cassidy and says, "Have you never heard of this wondrous place called the library? You'd be surprised what they have there." But this one, snarky as it is, doesn't sound nearly so mean as it could. But she side-eyes the other two gentlemen and then goes back to eating her cookie, and listening with all her might.
Lindon's cheeks color, and he traces on the table with his fingertip aimlessly. "It's got knowledge of the, ah, erotic arts, yes. Information about music and records… it's got everything." He smiles at Tulip, nodding to her. "Honestly it's less trouble for you to go to the library. The Archive is harder to get at and it's dangerous to try." He tells Constantine, "I'll find out what I can and tell you what I learn. As for Central Park, a Hellmouth opens into it. I'm not sure if it's still open, but all sorts of strangeness has come out of it."
Constantine ate his scone squinting a look to Lindon and it was dawning on him pretty quickly in theory anyhow. "I dunno about all that. I bound… quite a hell of a thing in my day, mate. I think you were there once." Just after all this happened. Odd that. Very very odd. The list of contents piqued an eyebrow and he said, "Well that's useful. How anyone would get much done with all that information floating about is beyond me but, more power to em."
"Well shite, ain't that a thing," Cassidy says, looking introgued, but then that beam of sunlight is creeping ever closer and he's going to end up in Lindon's lap if he moves any further to the west. He then gets up and says "Well, was a great thing meetin' you, Lindon. An' of course seein' ya both, Tulip, John, but I really gotta see a man about a horse." He probably doesn't mean that literally. And with that, he tugs up that hood a little closer around his face, slaps some money on the table for the scone for Tulip, and he ambles on out.
Tulip looks thoughtful, as she offers Cassidy a two-finger salute, (non-offensive,) and finishes her tea. Then she checks her watch and says, "Oh, I should go, too. I was wasting time before meeting a friend. ANd now I'm a bit late. Nice meeting you both. Cassidy, thanks for the scone." She takes the scone with her and makes tracks.
"It was nice to meet you both," Lindon says in his halting, friendly but awkward way. "Have a good evening, both of you." To Constantine, he says, "I don't follow. Was this when we met?" He shakes his head, clueless. He knows so much about everything else, but people and his own memories are lost cause. "It takes a lot of concentration," he says, "to get things done, but with practice, you can do it. Maybe someday I'll explain it."