Checking On Rina

9/4/2007

11:57 AM
Logfile from GarouMUSH.

Currently the moon is in the waning Half Moon phase (51% full).
It is currently 11:52 Pacific Time on Tue Sep 4 2007.
Currently in Saint Claire, it is partly sunny. The temperature is 65 degrees Fahrenheit (18 degrees Celsius). The wind is calm today. The barometric pressure reading is 29.98 and rising, and the relative humidity is 72 percent. The dewpoint is 56 degrees Fahrenheit (13 degrees Celsius.)

Apartment and Studio(#2790RFJ)
A short entry hall opens into a large, bright livingroom lit by tall windows and two sets of French doors, all on the far side from the entrance. An archway on the right side of the hallway leads into an alcove kitchen and an open dining area. At the left side of the living room, a hallway opens onto the bathroom, closet, and bedroom.
Rina's apartment constantly smells of paint, and the windows and glass doors are perpetually left open to air out the fumes of her work. The furnishings are eclectic and mismatched, and the wall space of the living room is dominated by shelving and, in some places, paintings. The shelves tend to be hand-constructed, mostly in metal and rivets, odd bits of hardware exposed; a functional sculpture of brushed-metal shelving hangs suspended from thin steel cables. The paintings are disturbing multimedia landscapes, depicting science-fiction cities and cyberpunk vistas of light and metal. For the most part these are executed in somber or cool tones. The work that strays furthest from the colors of the room also occupies the most prominent real estate, across from the sofa and above the low storage file: it is a landscape dominated by volcanic fire, edged with darker shades trailing into black, in which a distinctly feminine figure seems to emerge toward the viewer through a red inferno. Trails of dark, flaming hair snake out around her head like a corona or halo; the hands are open, held low with the arms outstretched as if in offering.
In the center of the livingroom, a sofa with a wildly-curved back, upholstered in spring-green velvet, sits with a unique coffee table and two artsy-looking steel chairs that are half sculpture. The coffee table is another work of modern art, a collage piece made of mixed metals, recycled circuit board pieces in shades of blue and green riveted together and set under a layer of clear Lexan, half an inch of empty space in between. The shape is curvy, to echo the sofa's long S-curve back. Under the fiery painting sits a birchwood cabinet, perhaps four and a half feet wide by three feet deep, with five shallow drawers. Some might recognize it as a flat file for art storage. A big cushy-looking area rug in shades of natural, grey and green covers the floor in front of the TV.
A quarter of the room, one of the far corners with plenty of sun, clearly acts as a workspace; her easel is set up there, and the hardwood flooring is protected by a sheet of vinyl taped over it, splattered with countless colors of paint. In the opposite corner, away from the light, shorter bookshelves of pale wood split off a small office area, with a small modern desk and an elegant black mesh chair. The desk almost always holds a slim notebook computer and a phone, and little else. Not far from this desk is a small futon, which acts as extra seating on occasion; there's a cover on it, a mix of bright Indian sari scraps in many colors, and a scattering of throw pillows.
There's a new painting on the easel, mostly finished. It is another of her dark cityscapes, a twisted world of shadows, mist, and looming buildings, filled with half-seen spectral creatures. Insectoid *things* web the corners of windows, sometimes detailed, sometimes only hinted at. Perspective seems to twist and shift, as it does in nightmare. A darkened street occupies most of the canvas, with a subject that is both single and multiple: a pack of wolves formed of red mist and shadows, faces and bodies and teeth given a subtle definition within the single, cometlike body of the 'pack'. The wolves are running in pursuit of some unknown prey--or perhaps running toward a gatelike construct, depicted in the distance at the end of the street. The gateway, formed of steel girders broken and set up dolmen-fashion, emits a glow like sunlight; nothing can be seen beyond its brightness, which throws shadows into stark relief.
Contents:
Abraxas
Rina

It's a little while later, when she finally makes it across the floor to hand him the water. "Gonna siddown," she says vaguely, and moves toward an armchair that wasn't there two days ago, a daddy-recliner parked next to the couch.

Abraxas can't seem to resist poking at the crushed ice in his water this time. He does so, with two fingers, though the movement seems more by habit than anything else. "What's morphine? And why does it seem like you're in more pain than you were a few days ago?"

"'M'not," she says muzzily, lowering herself into the chair. Leaning back, she looks up toward the ceiling. "Sorry to disappoint you..."

Abraxas blinks, looking mildly confused. "Disappoint me?"

A faint, bitter smile touches her lips. "That I'm not suffering more. 'Cause I deserve it, right?" She closes her eyes, and answers the question. "Morphine's a drug. For pain. Like what they gave me in the hospital."

A knock comes at the studio door, sharp and insistent. Urgent, even. Outside, Yi leans a hand against the frame of the door to catch her breath.

Abraxas gives Rina a very, very strange look. He's still standing, but that doesn't seem to be bothering him, and after a moment, he stops poking at the ice in order to finally take a sip of water--every bit as careful as he has been in the past about not showing his tongue. "I don't know. Do you deserve it? I--" He stops, stiffening, at the knock.

"Fuck," Rina groans. She pushes herself to her feet, and heads for the closet to get the gun, racking it back as she heads for the door. "Yeah?" she calls out.

"Rina?" Yi's voice calls back, muffled through the door.

"Who's askin'?" The hazy eyes narrow; she holds the gun up by her shoulder, in a two-handed Weaver grip.

Abraxas hangs back. He's not terribly interested in getting anywhere near that gun.

Yi's answer doesn't come until silent seconds have passed. When it does, there's less volume to it. "It's me. Yi. Are you okay in there?"

The deadbolt slides back, and Rina opens the door, gun disappearing behind her back. She flashes the Gnawer a vague, flying-high smile, and leans on the door's edge with one hand, just as she did before. "Yeah... hey."

Abraxas remains in the background, eyes narrowed and generally looking suspicious. If one can be truly suspicious of someone else while poking at crushed ice in their water.

Yi returns the smile, though there is a sense of unease to it. "May I come in?" she queries, sharper eye catching sight of Abraxas in the back as well as other things. "Kaz... she told me what happened, and..." It's only after this that she studies Rina a little more closely.

"Come in if y'want," Rina murmurs, the words slightly slurred. "F'give the cold... I just finished a piece last night, everything's wide open..." *Something* certainly is.

Abraxas falls to sipping his drink again. His shoulders hunch, and he's barely moving, as if he might pass for a piece of furniture if he just holds still enough.

Yi does want, and does step inside. The new painting is really one amongst many. And Abraxas doesn't escape the Gnawer fostern's notice. Still, the ragabash momentarily puts him to a side mentally, even if she does look at him pointedly, directly, and turns back to the kinswoman. "You are /sure/ you are ok," Yi notes at her dubiously. "If not, I can try and help ease some of your pain."

Rina closes and bolts the door behind the Gnawer, the Sig dangling at her side in the other hand. Head down, she half-hides a ragged smile. "Oh, I'm barely feelin' anything at all. Most'f'it this girl healed..."

Abraxas sips...his water. He looks vastly uncomfortable, but apart from that, he's not doing anything at all.

"Someone came to see you already? Who?" That tone of Yi's doesn't hold much comfort herself, though she looks down to the gun by the woman's side before raising her gaze to eye Abraxas. "And you are here to check up on her?" she questions at the ahroun.

"Kid, named Stacey... din't know her. Kaz brought her Sunday..." Rina walks gingerly to the closet to replace the gun on its shelf.

Abraxas visibly bristles, though he keeps his voice level enough. "I just came to talk to her. I can go."

"Peter's like you," Rina murmurs, glancing over to the metis. "He's a friend... Or maybe he hates me, 'm'not sure. Don' talk about me like I'm not here, I'm at least half present on this side of-- things."

Yi holds up a hand. "No, you do not have to, and this is not my space to say either," she says at Abraxas, her eyes following the kin. After examining the rest of the studio at length, she exhales a deep sigh. "Stacey. She's a good kid. Fostern now, though ahroun." Her words clip on the ends in result of worry. "Do you remember what happened? Kaz mentioned you were there. The both of you."

Abraxas shakes his head. "I just came in on the end. I didn't do much, and I don't know how it started." His shoulders remain hunched, though he makes no move to depart.

"'S'complicated," Rina murmurs, looking to the Gnawer with hazy, dark eyes. "You wan' somethin' to drink?"

Yi rubs at her leg with a hand, likely just around the end of her battlescar. "It has been a while since I ran so far so fast," she murmurs. Something strikes her and the ragabash glances back over to Abraxas. "I did not know your name was Peter," she notes at him thoughtfully. To Rina, the Gnawer waves a hand. "I'll get it myself," she responds. "You sit. Rest. And speak, please. Anyone who's tried to kill one of ours deserves their karma."

Abraxas looks as though he's debating his answer to Yi's remark, though in the end, all he does is shrug. He finally seems to grow tired of standing, though his solution to that seems to be just to sit, cross-legged, exactly where he is on the floor.

Rina wets her lips, looking over at the Gnawer; then she returns to the recliner, obediently. "Deserve my karma," she says hoarsely. Collapsing with liquid purposelessness into the armchair, she looks up dreamily at the ceiling. A gust of wind, unseasonably cool, blows a few sketches about on the floor. "Shh," Rina mumbles. "'S'true, caro... doesn't matter now."

Yi gets herself a glass of water, returning to find the two sitting. She pulls a seat up to sit. "I will not stay long," she notes to them both. "But I will say that I am here to keep my promise, Rina. To uphold my debt." Her hand tightens slightly around her glass as she sips. "So, I would like to know who it was."

Shaking her head, Rina looks over to the woman with shadowed, weary eyes. "Can't talk about it here. Send me somethin'... or meet me at the club sometime."

"Why not here?" Yi asks abruptly. "This is your home isn't it?" Again, Yi looks around before settling her gaze back on the woman. Abraxas may as well be furniture.

Rina closes her eyes for a moment. "Not a safe place," she says quietly. "Don' know who might be listenin'."

Yi takes a bigger gulp of water before setting down her glass and standing. "Why?" she asks again. "FBI is on your tail? I know Abr-- Peter, said they were back. Rina, you aren't involved with that new drug are you? Because it's Bad Stuff."

Rina shakes her head. "Heard about it from that Basil kid..." Her brow furrows, and she looks over to Yi. "Shit, I shoulda cc'ed you the email," she murmurs vaguely. The dark eyes wander away, searching for Abraxas. "D'you remember what Kaz said? About venom? C'you write it down for her?"

Abraxas gives Rina a very strange look, but he's not really one to speak on paranoia. "Uh. If you want. Where's a paper and pencil?"

"Desk," Rina murmurs, "in the corner. If there's anything written there, don' read it."

Yi utters a string of Cantonese under her breath, none too pleased. "I don't have a computer, remember?" she notes back at Rina, frowning.

Rina's brow furrows, and she looks over to Yi. "Gotta fix that," she says quietly.

Abraxas stands and makes his way to the desk, though he does give a few confused, furtive looks to Rina as he goes.

Yi shakes her head slowly, exhaling deeply. "And what did Basil say?"

Rina lets her head fall back onto the cushioned upholstery. "Told me about it bein' nasty stuff. Had a friend analyze it... came out it's some kinda venom. So Kaz had 'n idea what it would be from... somethin'... I don' remember."

Abraxas pulls open the desk drawer, retrieving pad and pencil. He flips the pad to an empty sheet, and sets about writing...though it's obvious to an observer that he's very careful and not terribly used to doing it.

"Well, at least they are looking into it," Yi murmurs after a moment taken to think. She peers at Abraxas curiously, though the gaze doesn't remain long. "And what about the two gangs I heard about, selling this?"

"Harbor Park," Rina murmurs. "Tried to talk it up wi'them, find out where the shit's comin' from so we could shut it down, but it's locked up tight..."

Abraxas finishes scribbling and rips the page he was writing on away from the pad. The look on his face is guarded as he moves to hand the paper to Yi. His writing is large and childish. It says: Mirror wasp spirits -----> drug is venom.

Rina's brow furrows. "I mean they are. They wouldn't talk. Wouldn't even discuss it."

Yi frowns again, her own brow creasing together as she picks out the paper and reads. The paper is folded and placed in a pocket with a nod to the ahroun. "Of course not. They are making good money off of the masked misery of others. I already saw the paper said five were dead in a new shooting. This is getting out of hand."

Abraxas crosses wordlessly to his original spot, and plunks himself back down. He's either not terribly interested in the conversation, or he simply doesn't have anything useful to add, because he remains as silent as before.

Rina presses her lips together, hard; lines begin to etch into the sharp features, as she moves to stand. "When," she asks, looking to the Gnawer as she leans on the arm of the chair.

Yi glances between the pair. "This morning's paper. I passed by one of those coin boxes, but found another in the trash to read. Parts of it, anyway - the parts I could read." The Gnawer runs a hand through her hair, gaze averting momentarily.

Rina's brow furrows, and she shakes her head minutely, looking to the Gnawer with narrowed eyes. "When w's the firefight? Las' night?"

"I think so," Yi replies with a shrug. "Understand I was not around myself to witness. And I should be going back soon too, as I promised Kaz I would return by nightfall."

Rina nods, and steps toward her--more stiffness in the movement, this time. "Say hi to her for me... tell her we gotta talk sometime, catch up." One hand lifts to touch the Asian girl's cheek. "You be careful? And come by... you're one a the few he doesn't mind."

Leaning lightly against the cheek touch, Yi brings her hand up to cover the woman's and holds it there. "We will, some time," she answers softly. "And you... too..." The last part makes the Gnawer blink. "He?"

Abraxas also turns a strange look on Rina. He looks rather confused.

Rina's smile is dreamy, a little bemused--as if the question is unexpected. "Gianni," she answers, in the way of someone stating what should be obvious.

Hand curling a degree tighter around Rina's, Yi suddenly draws her brows back down and stares quietly into the kin's eyes with a load of concern. She draws Rina's hand down away from her cheek afterwards, and looks around the room carefully. "Rina..." she utters softly, voice catching in the back of her throat.

There's a trace of strain around the Walker kin's eyes. Her smile is strangely wistful, as she tilts her head. "He hates it when some people come here," she murmurs hoarsely. "But not you."

"Rina," Yi utters again, her expression shifting to something that dams up the pain behind them. Then things relent and pull back through a forceful show of willpower. Yi nods slowly, taking in the woman's features all around. "Just get better soon," she tells her, "so I don't have to come all the way out here in a rush next time."

Rina's faint smile softens. "Kaz din't say they helped me? You thought--" She's a little slow to put things together. "Oh... cara mia." Gingerly, she hugs the Gnawer.

Yi returns the hug just as gently, though not without a great deal of warmth. "I admit I did not stay long enough to find out," she utters quietly. "But I'm glad to see you are... okay." After the hug, she lets go and brushes a lock of hair from her face before looking to Abraxas. "And I should thank Peter here for coming to your aid." She nods to the silent metis on the floor. "Is there anything else I can do?" she then asks to Rina again.

Rina's smile betrays a hint of pain. "Just come back, sometime. And can you put the word out on the bark-chain to watch an address, for me?"

Abraxas grimaces and looks at the floor.

"An address?" Yi echoes, brows lifting. "Sure I will. To both requests," she answers. Her smile keeps up, faint though it is.

Rina wets her lips. "Can you remember, or should I write it down?"

Yi lets out a light laugh. "I will remember," she promises, though there is one quick glance in Abraxas' direction again.

"It's 2900 Concord," Rina says. She swallows, strain showing in her eyes. "My family's there."

Abraxas is decidedly not looking toward either of the women right now. To say he looks uncomfortable would be an extreme understatement.

Family. The keyword catches Yi's attention quickly, and she nods to confirm. "2900 Concord. I will pass the word," she tells the kinswoman before looking between them. "Well. I should go back now. You all take care of yourselves," she notes, this time definitely including the metis in the background with, and even a sense of the phrase meant for Someone Else as well.

Biting her lip, Rina says, "You too, cara. Thank you... for comin' by."

Yi gives one last look around, and turns again to go. She opens the door and pauses. "I'll be back," she remarks in a play off the Terminator's phrase and accent, offering a more lighthearted smile before shutting the door behind.

Rina leans against the door and closes her eyes, sliding the bolt.

Abraxas only looks up from the floor once he hears the door close, though he doesn't seem to have anything else to add to the conversation even then. His mouth is faintly twitching.

"You okay?" she asks hoarsely. "D'you not get along, or somethin'?" She leans one shoulder against the door, and her eyes half-close.

"I don't know," Abraxas replies, truthfully. "We haven't in the past."

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