Pleasantries - Chapter 1, Part 1
Apr. 26th, 2010 06:52 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
genlisae
Genre: Drama, Modern, Sci-fi, Dark, Crime
Word Count for Chapter: 7100 ish
Rating: NC17 / M (I am not actually sure this applies in this case, but it will for the rest of the story so let's just make this the general assumption from here on out shall we?)
Advisories: (I love this part ... I stare at my screen and go "Oh ... well hell ... Like I remember everything that is in here!") Course Language, Implied Violence and some Mild Not Implied Violence, Death, Blood, Verbal Abuse, Emotional Abuse, Adult Subject Matter, Angst, Alcoholism, Discrimination, Confusing Family Trees, Mention of Adult Toys, Misuse of Disney Princesses and RPG Characters.
I know I am missing a bunch here and I am starting to think I should list these alphabetically. Notes and credits at the end cause I prefer to do it that way!
3 parts this time around because that made the most sense. Don't worry though, none of them are really huge! Right then, on to Part 1.
Pleasantries - Chapter 1 - What Dreams Are Made Of - Part 1
9:40 PM Thursday, April 3
Dirk Dreamer stepped out of the car. “Thanks,” he called over his shoulder as he closed the door. The driver of the car gave a wave of acknowledgement before driving away.
Slowly, Dirk climbed the stairs. It had been a long night at work. Right now he just wanted to go take a shower to wash off the smell of baked goods, finish his homework, and get some sleep.
He should probably make sure his father had eaten somewhere in there as well. The older man didn’t do so well at things like that since his wife had died, didn’t do so well at anything, really. Dirk heaved a sigh. He understood that, he missed his mother too, but sometimes his father just seemed to have given up.
Dirk hated seeing him like that. It was hard enough already without having to worry about a grown man who should be able to look after himself.
Oh well, he thought, nothing to do for it but carry on and go get that shower. The smell of cinnamon on his clothes was enough to make him gag.
All thoughts of a shower left him as he stepped through the door and stopped short.
It was a few moments before he could think clearly through the blinding rage. It was a few moments more before he wanted to think clearly. He very desperately wanted to follow through with his instincts to grab the man on the couch and pummel him within an inch of his life. Maybe that would knock some sense into him.
Pushing down what he knew where baser urges that would not really solve anything in the long run, Dirk settled for the next best option.
“For fuck’s sake, Dad!” He yelled. “Wake up, grow up, and clean this fucking mess up. How would Mom feel if she could see you like this?”
Lilith snapped her head around at the soft knock on her window.
Seeing her childhood friend, next-door neighbour and former boyfriend on the other side of the glass, she started to smile. A closer look at the expression he wore though had the smile freezing before it barely began. Something was very wrong with Dirk.
“Are you okay?” she asked as she turned back from closing the window after he’d climbed through.
“Yeah,” he replied, his tone saying he was anything but. “No. Shit, I don’t know.”
With a sigh he sank down onto the bed.
“It was horrible, Lil,” he told her running a tired hand across his forehead. “I came home from work and he was passed out on the couch again. Empty beer bottles everywhere and a pizza dumped all over the floor.”
“He’s drinking again?” Lilith asked, sinking down beside him.
“I guess, yeah,” Dirk replied. “I should have known he wasn’t going to stop.”
“How could you have known? He said he was getting help.”
“He says a lot of things,” Dirk bit out, “but he never does them. He says he’s going to get a job. He says he’s going to sell a painting. He says he’s going to try harder to look after himself. He never does any of it. Why should this be any different?”
Lilith didn’t respond. They’d been in this same position many times over the past few years since Dirk’s mother had died. Sometimes he just needed to vent.
“It scares me, Lil,” he whispered. “What if I lose him too? He’s sad and pathetic, but he’s all I have left. What if I wake up one day and he’s gone too, like Mom? What do I do then?”
“You do your best,” she offered, “just like you always have.”
“You know what scares me even more though?” he asked with a humourless laugh, “Mom used to tell me that I was just like him. She was so proud when she said it. What if she was right, what if I really am just like him? Just as sad, just as pathetic and just as weak?”
“You aren’t.”
“Maybe I am, and I just don’t know it yet.”
“You’d know,” she assured him.
“Would I?” he retorted, his voice filled with self loathing, “I wonder. Sometimes I get these thoughts, urges, and I wonder where they came from.”
Lilith cocked her head, her curiosity piqued. “What kind of thoughts?”
Dirk shook his head, “Not tonight. I’m too tired tonight,” he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Can I stay here? I really don’t want to go home tonight.”
“Of course you can, Hon. You know you are always welcome.”
Pushing the door closed with his foot, Telesto Villega snatched up the ringing telephone.
“Fuchsia,” he said by way of a greeting as he made his way through the small apartment on his way to the kitchen.
“What?” came the startled response from the caller.
“Would you prefer I said purple? Green, maybe?” Telesto asked while rummaging in the refrigerator. “Green might make more sense, actually. Green means go, right?”
“It does, but why would you answer the phone with fuchsia in the first place?” Caliban Villega asked, puzzled.
Beside him Anto Nakai arched a questioning brow.
“As opposed to yellow,” Telesto explained as if the answer should have been obvious.
“Or you know, you could have just said hello,” Caliban offered.
“Nah,” Telesto countered, “Too easy.”
Caliban sighed, “I should have guessed. So what are you doing?”
“Leaning on your counter drinking your last soda, of course,” Telesto quipped with a lopsided grin. “What else would I be doing at this time of night?”
“Nice try, little bro,” Caliban shot back. “How long have you been home?”
“Just walked in when you called,” Telesto admitted reluctantly.
“Damn it, Tel!” Caliban swore, “Your dad is going to strangle me if he finds out you were out this late!”
“So? Don’t tell him. I was back before you knew about it.”
“True,” Caliban acknowledged. “Where’d you go, anyway?”
“Some dingy little club with a crappy DJ,” Telesto complained. “Why do you not live near any decent clubs?”
“Sorry. I’ll move before you visit next time,” came Caliban’s sarcastic reply. “I am sure I can get a transfer at work as well once I explain that I need to live in an area with a better night life for when my party-boy little brother comes to visit.”
“That would be awesome,” Telesto grinned. “So would pizza. You guys are off soon, right? Want me to order pizza?”
“Anto?” Cal turned to his partner. “You up for Pizza?”
“Yeah, but we will pick it up!” Anto insisted, “He orders some scary crap on his pizza.”
“We will bring it home with us,” Caliban said with a chuckle.
Telesto laughed, “Tell Anto that for one of the city’s brave boys in blue, he’s a chicken shit.”
“Seriously, Tel,” Caliban countered. “What was that last one?”
“Meat Lover’s with Anchovies, Porcini, Goat Cheese and Pesto.”
“See, that is some scary shit right there.”
“You two just need to develop a sense of adventure.”
“Time to hang up the phone, girls,” Anto announced as he slowed the car nearing their destination. “Some of us are still at work.”
“Gotta go, Tel,” Caliban said into the phone. “Try to stay in for the rest of the night, yeah? I have to have you home to your father in one piece tomorrow.”
“Yeah, yeah,” came the grumbled response from the phone, “you worry like an old lady. Bye.”
“So what are we dealing with here, anyway?” Cal asked as he put his cell phone away and Anto pulled the patrol car off the street and into the alley.
“Do you ever pay attention?” Anto sighed rolling his eyes.
“Don’t need to,” Cal replied with a chuckle, “that’s what I have you around for.”
“Jerk,” Anto accused good-naturedly. “We have a report of a teen-aged girl asleep in an alley.”
“Asleep?”
“That’s what they said.”
“Next we will be running a babysitting service, I suppose?” Cal griped, stepping out of the car.
“Isn’t that more or less what we do already?” Anto countered.
Cal had to grant him that one. The only real difference was the age of the ‘babies’. The ones they dealt with were usually old enough to know better.
“She passed out?” Cal asked, approaching the scene nonchalantly. It wouldn’t be the first time they had roused someone who had a bit too much to drink and couldn’t make it any further, even someone her age.
“No,” Anto’s voice was unusually quiet and Cal felt his heart sink, “I am no doctor, but I think it is a bit more serious than that.”
“Shit,” Cal swore softly.
“I am pretty sure she’s dead.”
“No pulse,” Anto confirmed as Cal joined him beside the body of the girl.
“Anto,” Cal began hesitantly a moment later, “Is it just me, or she lying a bit odd in that chair?”
Anto nodded, “Looks like her hands are under her back.”
“Bound?” Cal asked.
“Probably,” Anto confirmed, “but I am not touching a damn thing until we get a full team here.”
“So no chance she just OD’d, then?” Cal asked with a tired sigh.
Anto shook his head, “Sorry buddy, looks like we are going to have to postpone that pizza with your brother. We have a homicide to deal with tonight.”
“Fuck,” Cal swore with a tired sigh, “I’ll go call it in. I really wanted to be home on time tonight, you know?”
“Yeah, I know ...”
In the nearby shadows, a figure stood watching the scene unfold.
Silently he watched as the police officers set about their work in their calm, detached manner. In a way he envied them, their ability to remove the human factor from the equation. It was a survival mechanism he knew, they had to, to save their own sanity.
In a lot of ways he did the same with his own job, but this, this was different. This hit entirely too close to home.
Pressing himself back against the cold brick of the wall, he frowned. He had no reason to be here anymore. The cops were here, it was no longer his problem. Yet here he was. One dead girl didn’t mean anything anyway. Did it? It was only one girl, hardly a trend. It wasn’t like she was one of many. One dead alien girl ...
Alien changed everything. If there were more, then it very well could be his problem.
Slipping silently into the darker shadows, he made his way out of the alley. For now he would wait. If it became his problem, he would deal with it then.
On to Part 2
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2010-04-26 03:55 pm (UTC)This excites me so much, I can't wait for more!
And Dirk is a great character - I love the guarded vulnerability.
no subject
Date: 2010-04-26 10:56 pm (UTC)Also checking that parts 2 and 3 are working for you since I fail back dating entries today it seems and ended up messing them up in ways I didn't know was even possible! They haven't been available for everyone :(
no subject
Date: 2010-04-26 11:54 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-04-28 01:05 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-04-28 08:14 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-04-28 04:15 pm (UTC)Gritty, witty, real, and with a lot of empathy and understanding, and huge and impressive creativity.
no subject
Date: 2010-04-28 08:21 pm (UTC)