Laws and Lies

Greta Lark. Defense attorney at Rodnam Law Firm. 31. 

[electra-lark-blog]

unholyhermes:

“Left,” Adam replied nonchalantly. “Right,” he added soon after with the same amount of disregard. With Olympus and its residents on one end and his conveniently placed apartment next to Hades in the other, Adam didn’t care much whether he wound up pounding on Zeus’ door or Hades’ with a hot blonde and dwindling alcoholic belligerence.

“If you wanted to start getting into the business, all you’ve got to do is say so.” Adam didn’t cut her another look, well aware that he was stretching the jovial air of the conversation thin by laying down a a serious suggestion under a thin sheet of casual conversation. “You don’t even need to sell it, just move it. You’re too good to deal. Let the teeny boppers do that, they need the quick cash.”

He clapped a hand on the cushion of the seat in rebuttal of her jab. “Calculated reckless abandonment of the law. Consistency doesn’t grow on trees, love. It’s a real talent, you know. I could be a CRA in a heart beat with all the taxes I evade.”

Greta easily made her way into the left lane before diving into the right at Adam’s word. “Really?” she asked in a fluster. “If I get a ticket it’s on you.”. Greta was overly cautious on the road, for good reason. She let her eyes leave it for just a short moment to get a glimpse at Adam, who seemed to be serious in his offer. 

“I appreciate the compliment, but you know how I feel about that kind of stuff. As easily as I can turn a cheek at most sins, I know I’d be plagued by my own. Besides, I don’t need any more money. Despite what you may say about my clothes, thrifting saves a significant amount,” she added to lighten the conversation once more. 

“Alright, alright,” she laughed. One hand left the steering wheel to be held up in surrender. “Calculated reckless abandonment it is. I don’t doubt you for a second, Adam. I know what you’re capable of.” The car rolled to a stop in front of the apartment building Greta thought she remembered as Adam’s, though most of them looked similar. “Alright, are you capable of taking care of yourself or do you want me to help clean you up? The least I can do is help mend the hole in your jacket.”

[electra-lark-blog]

felixfletcher:

“I like to pop up when I’m not expected, it keeps my business partners on their toes,” he replied, hand flexing at his side as he considered the business-strength grip of her handshake and the whirring curiosity that had all the components of stirring his paranoia. Harvey had kept quite the collection of interesting people at his beck and call, there was no cause to be getting twitchy just yet. Instead he smiled, leaning inadvisably against the dais as if he couldn’t quite bring himself to leave the sculpture be. 

“See, now either I’ve lost my touch entirely or my poor judgement is contagious, Miss Lark. The pleasure is all mine regardless,” his head turned to survey the room behind him, before angling his back toward the statue instead. “At the very least you can charge me with keeping you out of the shadows for the whole night.” His head craned to take in the infamous woman in blue, subtlety foregone entirely as he tilted his head before replying, “Ah, but how do you know that isn’t some hidden stroke of genius? Eventually she’ll have to cycle back to someone she’s already talked to and then she’ll know if they were actually listening to her the first time.”

Head turning back to Greta only after the woman in blue seemed to realise she was being stared at he beamed, “Speaking of monotony, how would you like to make a truly terrible decision? I’ve been told my dancing is almost as bad as my driving and I’d like to see if it’s still true.”

"And what kind of business might that be? Most people I know that went into business are far too fond of predictability, but then again, you don’t seem to be most people,” the blonde noted as she measured Felix once more against the rest of those in the room. He was more like her, she realized. Stagnant, everyday life wasn’t enough to satisfy. Even a small act of rebellion against it could make a heart pound. Her thoughts lingered on his words, I like to pop up when I’m not expected. The difference she found between the two of them was that this man liked his acts to be known while she remained in the shadows, where the only witness of her excitement and unpredictability was herself. 

This made the prospect of stepping into the light all the more thrilling. “Your poor judgment is most certainly contagious,” she assured him sportively. Her cheeks were a faint pink, as if admitting that she was happy to let him keep her company was something to be ashamed of. This certainly wasn’t how she had imagined her night to go. It was supposed to have consisted of her usual avoidance of Harvey’s crew and any sort of attention. However, she wasn’t complaining about the turn it had taken.

“You bring up an interesting point,” Greta raised an eyebrow. “I usually pride myself on my ability to view situations in various lights, but you seem to have outwitted me. However, I don’t plan on staying here long enough to find out if this woman is as clever as you think she may be. It’s most likely the alcohol that’s giving me the courage to take you up on that offer, but as long as you don’t step on my feet so much that I’m unable walk home, I think there are far worse decisions I could make than dancing with you. ” 

[felixfletcher-blog]

Honorable, respectable; they were words forged into masks for people like Harvey Johnson — for people like him. Honour was a tough ideal to cling to in a business like theirs. The word only broadened his smile, prying his attention away from a curious study of the inseam of the sculpture to peer around an icy thigh at the woman lurking in the shadow of it. There was a perpetual itch of boredom that came attached to events like this, to the schmoozing and small-talk and a sea of penguin-suits all mindlessly discussing the importance of charity that he’d never quite learned to be satisfied with; and if time had taught him anything it was that distractions in the shape of beautiful people in beautiful clothes should never be ignored. 

“Oh, I’d welcome it,” he confessed, voice lowered to a conspirator’s tone, “I left my best judgement by the bar an hour ago and I’m sure she’s putting her very best foot forward into drinking them dry so I need someone to show up and chastise me or I might just forget why I didn’t want to be here.”

His arm looped around an icy thigh to offer a polite hand in her direction with a smile for good measure. “Felix Fletcher — Harvey and I were business partners. So, were you enjoying the icy chill that Harvey here,” he patted a free hand absently against the sculpture’s knee before moving to slide of the dais entirely, “Is giving off or the tactical cover he’s providing?”

[electra-lark-blog]

Greta let out a soft chuckle at his reply. Why was it that everyone she associated with was so open to getting into trouble? “There are plenty of ways to be reminded that don’t involve you being dragged out by the authorities. Although, I doubt any of those ways would result in a more entertaining evening. Why would you come here if you knew you weren’t going to enjoy it?” she asked rather nosily. This man had interested her from the moment she saw him so, naturally, she was going to do some digging.

The lawyer shook his hand, her grip as firm as it would be in the workplace. “Greta Lark. Harvey did me a favor way back in the day, and I figured he deserved my respect tonight. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mister Fletcher, with your poor judgment and all,” she teased.

The man once again made her lips part into a smile through his words. “It’s not so much of a cover anymore, now that you’ve drawn attention by treating the sculpture like a playground and engaged me in conversation. Not that I’m complaining. I was starting to get bored of watching everyone repeat the same formalities over and over. You see the woman in blue over there?” Greta pointed subtly towards a woman a few yards away. “She starts every conversation with the same exact sentence. Can you imagine having a night so monotonous?”

[unholyhermes-blog]

A flicker of something unreadable crossed his expression at the mention of Harvey’s name, his lips thinning into a straight line. In general, Adam made a point for it to be known that Harvey’s death only grazed him when it had shattered him like a window. “Hate to break it to you love, but Harvey’s dead and he left Zeus in charge. If any of these arseholes cared about anything other than money, they’d respect that.”

He picked at the seat belt strap, growing tired but restless from sitting still. He found it both magnificent and obnoxious how Greta managed to stay under the speed limit while driving on an empty street in the dead of night.

“Few mil,” he replied belatedly, caught on the train of thought of ‘what if I floored it for her?’ “Honestly, all you need to know about it is that we lost a lot of money and I would really like to get it back as fast as possible. There’s a pair of Jordans I’m really looking forward to customizing.”

Adam was mulling over golden patented leather and whether he could brave another mile at 60 kilometers an hour before Greta’s pointed jab hit him somewhere ineffectual. He cut another glance at her.

 “What?” he asked. “Are you talking about me?”

[electra-lark-blog]

Zeus was the one Greta owed, from the sound of things. However, Adam was biased and she couldn’t let that bias go unignored. She had to talk to the other side in order to discover if Hades had any dirt on her first. Her number one priority was keeping her secret safe. 

They were getting close to Adam’s place if Greta remembered correctly. She hoped she did. She wasn’t sure how much longer she could stand being cooped up in her tiny car with the stench of a night full of alcohol that was being emitted by Adam. “Remind me, is it a left or right at this next light?” Greta asked before jumping right back into the conversation.

“Wait, millions?” Her mouth hung open slightly, the shock obvious. She knew large sums of money were always involved when it came to operations like these, but the most shocking part about it was how uninterested Adam was when he claimed that Old Olympus lost millions. If this was so casual, Greta didn’t even want to imagine how much they made regularly. “Maybe I should quit being a lawyer and start selling,” she joked.

“Yes, I’m talking about you,” she chuckled. “ Many of my other clients fit the bill too, but I think you win in the competition of most consistent reckless abandonment of the law.”

[felixfletcher-blog]

The persistent, ‘Sir?’ that had been tailing him through the crowd went cheerfully ignored, an empty cocktail glass pushed none-too-subtly into the chest of a passing by penguin-suit as Felix made a beeline for the ice sculpture towering over the party. The wide-blown state of his pupils and beaming smile were a fair indication that his last venture to the bathroom had been a social one and a greater one that there was trouble brewing. The problem with being social was that his form of socialisation usually came attached to a long list of damages billed to anyone who wasn’t him.  “I prefer to be called Captain,” Felix insisted, batting away a hand from his shoulder with a stern look that turned almost reverent as he crowded in beneath the gleaming ice. 

Hoisting himself up to sit upon the dais upon which it stood (to a nervous groan from his shadow and the dais in unison) Felix patted a hand against an icy shoe and lent back to peer up at the crotch with the distracted energy of a five year old at a birthday party before declaring, “It looks nothing like him.”

[electra-lark-blog]

The gala was in honor of Harvey and the lives he’d transformed. Greta had tried to convince herself that she didn’t have to go, why she didn’t have to go, how going would make her miserable, but nothing she came up with could take away from the fact that Harvey had helped her in her time of need. She was one of the many lives he transformed. He deserved her respect. That was the only reason she was there, dressed up in an expensive gown that had been altered just for the occasion, drinking  fancy cocktails, and avoiding all social interaction. 

She much preferred to position herself in a ‘hide in plain sight’ manner. She’d taken a liking to a particular ice sculpture and decided to make it her home base for the night. This was an amusing party to observe, if nothing else. She always seemed to learn more about people from watching rather than conversing with them. One person she’d found particularly intriguing was a man with an aura much like Harvey’s himself. He was obviously a man held in high regard, as there were several people throughout the night that seemed to be trailing him. After watching him shoo his followers away for a while, she took her eyes off to see if anyone else was more entertaining. When she turned back, the man was gone. 

An unexpected voice came from her right and her head whipped around to see that it belonged to the very person she’d been scanning the crowd for just moments earlier. He’d completely dropped his formal and stern attitude she’d just observed, so much so that it took her several seconds to recognize that it was, in fact, him. It took her even longer to spit out a reply. “Oh, uh, I suppose not. One would think they’d find a better sculptor for someone as honorable as he was.” Greta couldn’t help but chuckle under her breath at the vast difference in the man’s behavior. He now stuck out like a sore thumb in the room which was filled with an air of sophistication. “Is it in your best judgment to sit up there, or are you simply unafraid of security chastising you?"

[matchmaker-eros-deactivated2017]

Russell watched, wiping the surface of his bar, when he heard the first roar of thunder pervading the air around him. It was a calm night at the Warehouse, and he could hear the soft piano music echoing through the bar. He washed his hands and dried them when the woman suddenly barged in from the storm. The sudden entrance startled Russ, and he looked around to make sure none of the gangsters around him had reacted more immediately than he did.

“Woah there, lady,” he said, glimpsing over and raising a hand to a man with his hand on the handle of his pistol while hoping the woman didn’t notice. The man relaxed and released his hold on the gun, returning to the conversation that had occupied him before. “Not to scare you or anything, but this isn’t the kind of place you just storm into, alright? Here. Have a seat, I’ll make you a drink to warm you up.”

[electra-lark-blog]

Greta’s gaze shifted from the rain pounding against the window to the bar as the man spoke. It was just in time to catch his glare at the other man, who she just barely caught hiding his pistol. She pretended not to notice but was honestly a bit shaken. As a defense attorney, Greta was surrounded by criminals on the daily, but she was rarely threatened by anyone. She was a fragile woman. Only in moments like these did she remember that the power she held through paper and pen only worked in the office. 

Her cheeks were already tinted rose from the cold, but she could feel them heat up more as she recognized her own recklessness. “I-I’m so sorry,” she licked her lips sheepishly as she began to scan the room like he had done a moment before. “I didn’t mean to startle anyone.” She debated telling him that she knew exactly what kind of place this was and she had simply been careless, but then she would come off as even more idiotic and ignorant than she already had. Besides, she didn’t want to boast about her ties to Olympus, even if these people were involved with the gang too. The fewer people who knew about her, the better. 

“A drink would be nice, thank you. Not too strong, though. I do have to drive home after I make it back to my office,” Greta replied with a half-smile as she made her way to a stool at the bar. “So, ‘not to scare you,’ is that how you greet all of your new customers? I'm going to guess that isn’t a very effective approach.”

[medusaivatco]

This was not a place for Medusa, and knowing that only made her relish in it more. It was the times like this, the one where she was all too aware of her irrevocable desire to do the wrong thing, that Octavia found herself only doing more of that wrong thing. The Warehouse still belonged to Victoria regardless of her and Caiden’s split, and the two of them still weren’t back to working capacity, again regardless of her and Caiden’s split, but even if all that didn’t matter, this was still Old Olympus territory, and Medusa was most definitely not Old Olympus.

But, just this one wrong thing didn’t seem like enough. No, Octavia had lost much to the fires that had been slow burning the bones from under her skin and, even if she could not stop the inevitability of her complete self-destruction, she did find that being nothing but a pain in the ass tended to slow that down. It was the only distraction, one better than drinking, one better than sex, one better than any kind of drug that the gang trafficked, that seemed to have an effect large enough to satisfy, at least for a little bit.

When her eyes landed on the blonde, clad in preppy clothes, freshly drenched and decently frazzled, that the grin spread in a steady fashion across the venomous lips of the snake. Drink in hand, Octavia feigned a stumbling mess and tripped her way over towards Greta so convincingly, with a loudly slurred “Did somebody say they wanted a drink?!”, that she crashed into her with enough force to splash the fireball all over the front of her blazer skirt combo.

[electra-lark-blog]

Greta heard uneven footsteps approaching and turned towards the noise at the most unfortunate time. A gasp escaped her lips as she was greeted with a freezing beverage to the torso. Without even glancing at the culprit, Greta tried to peel off the thin, stained blouse that was now transparent and sticking to her skin. Only after she had buttoned up her blazer did she look up from her chest to chastise the woman who had so boldly and ungracefully approached her. If there was one type of person she didn’t have sympathy for, it was someone who let alcohol control them. 

However, when she met the eye of the woman, Greta knew something was off. She quickly pushed the thought aside. Everyone in here was probably a bit off. It was Olympus territory after all. With that as a reminder, Greta held her breath instead of shouting. She didn’t want to anger the wrong person, not here of all places. “No, sorry, I think you heard wrong,” Greta lied to the woman while taking a few steps back in case she decided to charge the blonde again. With gritted teeth, she continued. “Sorry about your drink, though.”

Greta pulled out her wallet from her purse which was, fortunately, dry, and offered a bill to the drunk. “Go buy yourself another. I’m going to run to the bathroom and clean up.” The lawyer didn’t need the money. She was pleased to hand it away if it helped her escape. Her plan was now to wait out the rain in the bathroom stall. After this eventful first minute in the bar, she had made up her mind that she would much rather be locked in a stall than surrounded by people like the one she was currently trying to shake. 

[electra-lark-blog]

It had been a long day at work with what felt like no progress. Those were the worst kinds of days for a woman like Greta Lark, who prided herself on her productivity and passion in the workplace. She knew if she returned home to her lonely apartment she’d only feel worse about her day. Deciding that a walk to clear her mind was the best option, Greta replaced her heels with flats and began wandering the streets of New York. As Greta was walking, still clad in her blazer and pencil skirt, it began to pour. The suddenly drenched lawyer ducked into the nearest place she could find, which just so happened to be a bar owned by none other than Olympus. There really was no way of escaping it, was there? Greta sighed and pulled up her phone to check the weather. She also took a glance out the Warehouse window, where the darkening sky and quickening pace of the rain hitting the window confirmed her fears. “If I’m going to be cooped up in here, I suppose few drinks can’t hurt,” she muttered.

[unholyhermes-blog]

“That’s where I meet all my lawyers,” Adam commented before letting it slide. A small part of him was self-aware of his own playboy tactics and he was long past the age of denying that he was always trying to get it in. He’d be insulting Greta’s intelligence if he suggested that sometimes he let himself go on benders just because he knew she’d come running in a pinch. 

He grimaced at the mention of being caught, his discomfort at the thought of prison shining through the fog of intoxication. The short time he had spent behind bars was less than savory and even worth less to remember. Shrugging his shoulders, he laid cool apathy over the notion and let it pass without further discussion.

“Of course, what’d you think it had to do with?” Adam cut a look towards Greta, mildly surprised that she hadn’t been in the know but he supposed that most of Old Olympus conducted themselves with less reckless candor. Greta had been a resource for him for years and for the most part, he trusted her and hoped that his faith in her ability to pull through would endear her to him enough to convince her to pick sides. “They blew up one of our shipments. It was a targeted attack, no doubt. I’m less concerned about who did it when we’re on the decline with business.”

He gazed out of the window and squinted at the streetlights whizzing past. “I’ve got to get something out to our clients as soon as possible,” he said, “If you’ve got any dirty cops under your belt, I’d really appreciate some numbers.”

[electra-lark-blog]

“Look, I’m not good with this Old Olympus New Olympus shit. My-” Greta paused, the word debt far too close to falling from her mouth. She didn’t know how many people knew about her deal with Cronus, but she certainly hadn’t told anyone herself, not even good friends like Adam. If people knew it was a debt that kept Greta aligned with the mob, they’d start to ask questions. The last thing Greta wanted was for people to know her sin. “My ties were to Harvey,” she finished, finding a more vague word to define her relationship to Olympus. “This quarrel between Zeus and Hades isn’t what I signed up for."

Greta gnawed lightly on the inside of her lip, the most tell-tale sign of her silent contemplation. The only thing she’d really considered about Old Olympus and New Olympus was who held her debt. If a member from each faction was put on trial, who was she obligated to defend? There was also a small glimmer of hope in Greta’s mind that the evidence had been destroyed after Cronus’s death and that she was free to defend whoever she chose out of her own free will. 

“As much as I disprove of the kinds of shipments being made by you lot, I can still sympathize. How much money do you think you lost on it?” she asked, though this is not the question that she was most interested in asking. “You’ve got to get something out? I’m going to take a wild guess that I don’t want to know any more details about your more than likely illegal activities.”

Greta sighed at the term dirty cop. She liked to believe that those who dealt with the law stuck with it. Of course, this was unbelievably hypocritical of her, but in Greta’s case there was only one regret that managed to stack up this never ending trouble. Dirty cops, that was a different world that Greta liked to imagine didn’t exist. However, she wasn’t naive enough to truly ignore it. “No, I don’t know anyone, sorry. Maybe I can get you in contact with a couple of old clients, though. I’ve learned the hard way that once someone breaks the law, they’re more than likely going to continue doing so.” Greta took her eyes off the road to send a very pointed smirk in Adam’s direction. 

[unholyhermes-blog]

Adam, whose ears had evolved to the point that a certain level of motherly complaining was filtered out, put his feet on her dashboard anyway. “God, I’m getting hard just listening to you talk about slapping me,” he said as he swiped a smudge of grease from his sneakers. “You need to quit that before I start getting the wrong idea, love. Purely professional, remember?”

For all of his leering and jeering, Adam found far more enjoyment in teasing Greta than ever really following through with anything he said. In fact, for the most part he liked that he never had to go the distance to offend her and that it had been that way for as long as he could remember knowing her. It rarely ever felt like more when she who wore pant suits and filed papers worked a 9-to-5 and he, who broke the speed limit and the law did everything in his power to keep the papers coming. It was symbiotic and peaceful and she was also, way out of his league.

(Still, it never stopped him from trying.)

“If there’s a will, there’s a way, Greta darling. I figured you’d learn by now that there’s nothing I can’t get if I want it enough.” He barked a laugh, tossing his head back against the seat as he pulled the lever and lowered it in stuttered increments that shook the car with his weight. “I’m like a cock away from sucking his dick, I swear it. The explosion on the docks a few weeks ago had me bloody shook. For a second, I thought I’d actually had to blow him to keep him from eviscerating me like a bloody tuna.”

[electra-lark-blog]

“Our relationship went past purely professional the second you thought a bar would be a good meeting place for a lawyer and her oclient,” Greta shook her head and didn’t even attempt to stifle her laugh. Their friendship was unlike anything Greta had ever experienced. The dynamic had been interesting from the very moment the rowdy teen met the rookie lawyer. Being one of her first cases, Adam held a special place in her heart, almost like a second younger brother. That’s why Greta kept checking in with him even after the case had concluded. She continued to try to keep him out of trouble, like she had tonight, but learned to accept that she was only postponing the inevitable. This allowed their unlikely friendship to blossom, her understanding and care and his ability to get her to relax and let loose making them a surprisingly healthy duo. “I’m serious, I don’t think I’ll be able to represent you next time you get caught by the men in blue. You might interfere with my professional judgment and all.”

She listened with a half smirk as Adam went on about his determination. She couldn’t argue with that. Adam and Greta were surprisingly alike when it came to achieving their goals and desires. They would stop at nothing. “Can you stop playing with my damn car?” Greta interrupted. “She’s fragile and you aren’t exactly the gentlest when you’re under the influence.” However, her annoyance was fleeting as something else he mentioned captured her attention. 

“Wait, the dock explosion, it had something to do with Wilcox?” Greta inquired, her concern and curiosity peaking. She worked for the Olympians and knew Zeus to be the new boss, but she wasn’t exactly a part of their crowd, which left her in the dark on a lot of the happenings within. All she knew was that there was a bit of a civil war occurring, but it didn’t involve her so she kept out of that as well. Greta liked to think that being ignorant would help her. However, she was too intrigued by the unknown to let it stay that way. “What happened? The chaos was covered in the papers but God knows they have no idea what they’re actually dealing with.”

[axelxbeckett-deactivated2016122]

He remembered Greta as she read over his case. Ready. Poised. Hopeful. She didn’t look at him as if he were scum, rather someone who could be given a second chance. He liked her for that, as much as his capabilities allowed. His feelings had been strapped down for years with the strongest metal he could find. Feeling anything made him uncomfortable, made the inklings of guilt stir within Axel once more. 

We haven’t forgot about you, they hummed. Oh, how he longed for them to unhinge from his flesh and let him breathe. 

“I suppose you’re right.” Axel sighed. He knew she was. Anyone whose strings were pulled correctly would rat on him. He was nobody to his clients except for someone who could hide their mistakes, heighten a profit, escape a crime. The reason he hadn’t been turned in thus far was probably for his convenience. He never shared the information he was given. He also completed his tasks within a day or two. “It’s a matter of time before word gets around to the wrong person. Thank you… for telling me.”

Greta claimed to be human. What did that mean? Axel wondered as he stared up at the woman, at the sincerity falling from her lips. She had no obligation to him. Once she won the case, she could have chosen to forget who he was, check off another victory on her list. Instead, she recalled his name. She wanted Axel to do better and she believed that wouldn’t come from behind a cell. His unhappiness was obvious, palpable, spreading through the air if Greta was able to pick up on it. Then again, Axel didn’t put a lot of effort into hiding it.

He ran a hand through his hair, meeting Greta’s eyes with a soft gaze of his own. “I definitely picked the best lawyer. I’ve never known one to give life advice, let alone help me from having a visit with the police. You’ve done a lot for me, Greta. I haven’t forgotten. I don’t think I ever will. I just – this is what I do.”

[electra-lark-blog]

His gratitude was unexpected. Greta didn’t do things for people’s thanks. She did things because she thought they were the right thing to do. Her moral compass may have been skewed by working with criminals for years, but she didn’t think Axel deserved to go through the hell that was prison for making a few false papers. “You don’t have to thank me. I’ve only done what I’ve needed to do for peace of mind,” she told him truthfully.

Greta could envision one of Axel’s many walls crumbling as his gaze softened. He wasn’t a brick no matter how much he tried to be. He was human too, and Greta supposed that side was the one she was attempting to reach. She pushed her hair back behind her ear again and licked her lips before responding. 

“I know, I know this is what you choose to do, and I’m not asking you to completely turn your life around. I just...” Greta trailed off. The woman whose whole life was shaped around what she said and how she said it was unable to find a combination of words to explain to Axel or even herself what she was asking of him. Her mind seemed to speed up as she desperately searched for something to say, anything. “You know, I’ve had some help covering things up before. Maybe there’s something that can be done to erase your tracks.”

Desperation does funny things to a person. As soon as the words slipped from her mouth, Greta regretted them. That was a long time ago. She had no idea how to cover tracks, that’s why she’d turned to the Olympians for help in the first place. Either way, disguising a murder was very different from hiding other illegal activities. What if Axel asked about what she’d covered up? What would she tell him? Greta’s defensive mask suddenly went up and her expression became nothing other than dismissive.

“That being said, it would probably be more trouble than it’s worth. You have some time before the law catches up to you, if it ever does. The name drop I caught was subtle and in a circle of people who prefer to run away rather than towards the police. I only knew what they were referencing because I remember you well.” 

[unholyhermes-blog]

“Pajamas are supposed to be pink and frilly. That’s a bloody lumberjack’s sweat rag.” Adam made a contemplative noise, his chin finally hitting the roof of the car as he rotated around to watched her climb into the driver’s seat. His grin spread from ear to ear, easy and lazy like the Cheshire cat’s but doubly sleazy.

“You know what?” He said it as if he’d come across the most ground breaking thought. “I think you should just sleep in the buff. Birthday suits are custom tailored by the big man and you know he doesn’t make any mistakes.”

His laughter cracked through the air again, splitting up the silence of night into little shards that made it seem far more inviting than it had been. For a boy who had spent most of his life playing catch with monsters, he had done an exceptional job of keeping himself from becoming one which left him naive to believe that he might’ve been the very few. He didn’t spare a second glance at Greta after chuckling good-heartedly at her comment and managed to slide into the passenger seat without bouncing his head off of the roof a second time.

“I’d love it if you’d be my nanny,” Adam replied as he adjusted the seat far enough to squeeze his legs in. He then proceeded to fold them like an accordion to fit his feet onto the dash. “We can put your hair into one of those little scrunchies from the 80s and it’ll be real hot.”

He cut her a sideways glance, expression grave. “I could really use a spanking,” he said, bobbing his head sagely. “I keep sending Wilcox memos but it’s like he’s ignoring me or something.”

[electra-lark-blog]

He could insult her sleepwear all he wanted. Greta was perfectly content in her oversized ‘lumberjack sweat rag’. “In case you haven’t got the memo, not all women sleep in silk. I haven’t worn something pink and frilly since I was somewhere around twelve,” She turned the car on with a swift flick of the wrist as she heard him thump his head once more. “I bet $20 on over half your face being black and blue by the morning. If not from you slamming it into my poor car, it’ll be from me slapping you until you learn to tame that mouth of yours. I’m not sleeping naked no matter how happy it’d make you or my nosy neighbors.” 

Out of the corner of her eyes, Greta saw him begin to raise his legs. “Ah ah ah, feet off, I just cleaned the inside of this thing,” she scolded him like a mother would to her insolent child, knowing her words were probably said in vain. She rarely expected Adam to actually listen to her. Even when he did, he always seemed to twist her words into some sort of innuendo. After knowing Adam long enough, she was more than used to these kinds of remarks and always had a rebuttal ready. 

 “Calm, boy. I’m not here to indulge in your kinks and I’m definitely not letting you put a scrunchie anywhere near my hair,” she snorted. How many times had she told him it would never happen? Far too many. She’d be lying if she said she never considered it, though. He was cute, but he was a natural disaster, so she was not about to advertise her mild sexual interest in him and add fuel to his fire. “Besides, you’re so drunk I don’t think you could get your dick up if you tried.”

Greta couldn’t contain her smirk at the thought of Wilcox getting constant messages from Adam pleading for attention in the most vulgar of ways. “Sounds like you need to be a little more forward with him. Sometimes you’re just too subtle for your own good, Bishop,” she joked, still unable to keep a straight face.

[unholyhermes-blog]

Adam balked, appalled at the accusation as if she had no grounds to question his authenticity. It’d been years and although he was no longer seventeen, the scene unfolding didn’t look much different than it had ten years ago– only now with three-thousand dollar shoes and legal access to alcohol.

“You’re supposed to believe me,” he complained as he begrudgingly tailed her to the car, soles scraping the concrete with resounding petulance. “What do you even get paid for?”

His body hit the side of her car with a dull thud as he turned to watch her pick up his helmet. Immediately, his pinched expression relaxed as he appraised her rumpled clothes and stringy gams, purposefully glazing over her modest shoes in favor of leering at her behind. He grinned stupidly at her when she rose. “They must not pay you much if you’re still wearing those hideous things.”

Humor dimpled his cheeks in a weak attempt of stifling his amusement before a laugh burst out of him at her threat. Adam’s head made another (more concerning) dull noise against the body of her car as he craned his neck to watch her circle around the car in a huff.

“Yeah?” he asked. “How?”

[electra-lark-blog]

“I’m supposed to find the truth; that’s what I’m paid for,” Greta rolled her eyes. “That and my ability to present that truth in such a manner that keeps people like you out of jail.” She took her keys out of her pocket and twirled them in her fingers as she walked towards her car door. 

She merely pursed her lips together at his insult. He was an annoyance, that she could never deny. She didn’t have any legal obligations to him like she once did, but she still held a moral one. Besides, what was life without at least one person to constantly test your nerves?

“For your information, these are my pajamas. I wasn’t exactly planning on going out on a rescue mission tonight. But thank you for your faith in my sense of fashion and my financial stability,” she said, sarcasm dripping from her words as she gestured to her ragged flannel nightshirt, leggings, and mocassins. 

His laugh caused her to snap her head back up and clench her jaw. She should have known he’d make a challenge out of it. Greta was tall, but she was rather frail and Adam had clearly taken note of this. However, Adam had no clue what Greta had proven capable of when provoked. Very few did. For an instant, her mind flashed back to her biggest regret, the feeling of blood coating her hands beginning to consume her. She shook the thought away. 

“Never underestimate the power of an angry woman,” she answered vaguely before hopping into her Mazda and quickly changing the subject. “Just get in the damn passenger seat. Do you think you’re capable of taking care of yourself if I drop you off, or am I going to have to play babysitter all night long?” 

[unholyhermes-blog]

“You know what.” Adam swaggered forward, bleeding alcoholism and belligerence like a particularly rebellious teenager coming back from a rager. There was evidence of  wreckage in his clothing: a hole in his jacket, some dirt on his knees, a smattering of glitter that never seemed to wash out of the dip of his collar. “Would it kill you to take a minute to acknowledge that, for once, none of the drama that happened over the weekend was my fault?”

He flailed his arms, and by consequence his helmet which, in his state, slipped from his fingers and frightened an animal out of a trash bin where it landed. “I was a bloody angel. I can practically feel the halo choking the life out of me again.”

[electra-lark-blog]

It wasn’t uncommon for Greta to have to track Adam down to keep the streets of New York just a bit safer. She’d be lying if she said it wasn’t to protect him, too. This was simply another one of those nights where she managed to chase him down. From the looks of it, she hadn’t caught him soon enough and he’d already caused some sort of chaos. “I find it difficult to believe that you had nothing to do with whatever events you’re trying to make an excuse for,” Greta said, trying to stay as stoic as possible, but unable to fully contain her amusement at the fact that Adam thought she was so dull as to think him entirely innocent in any situation. She was hopeful, not stupid. And he was drunk. 

“Honestly, based on your state of being, it’s probably better for the both of us if I don’t find out about what you’ve been up to. Let’s just get you home safe.” She bent down and picked up his helmet from the ground, inspecting it for dents before tossing it in her backseat. “Get in the car. Shotgun, don’t even think about anything else. If you try to get in the driver’s seat I swear I will use all of my hundred and ten pounds to make sure you never do it again.”

[zyaxsor]

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[axelxbeckett-deactivated2016122]

Seeing Greta brought a wave of dread. It hovered just above his desk, teasingly, tauntingly, before crashing around him. Axel could have reacted, let his mask wither or his shoulders slump. But he didn’t. His body was used to fighting the worst of emotions.

It was one thing to see a friend, which he had little of, another to have his ex-lawyer burst through his door with scrutinizing eyes and words of advice that he would not take – at least not now. Axel wasn’t sure if he cared about going to prison, if it would matter if he was locked behind metal bars. He had committed his worst sin years ago on the side of a mountain. The image of his sister plummeting, slippery fingers unable to grasp the rope that he could have swore was secure. He forced the memory away with a hefty swallow, made it appear as if he were contemplating the sudden intrusion on Greta’s behalf. Displace, push aside, get rid of. She had been good to him, however. He couldn’t deny the swiftness of her defense, of the hope he had witnessed in her gaze.

No one had looked at him like that in a long time. His clients came and went with requests and expectations. Axel was greeted like how a person greeted an owner of a shop. Sometimes with a hello and an inquiry as to how they were. Sometimes, with nothing more than the request blurted out and a wad of cash. None of the jobs he held were for the incredibly social. They were often situated in cubicles, routines, and coworkers who spoke with condensation as their default tone. Greta wasn’t like them, he reminded himself. It was how he brought himself to answer her.

“The only redeeming quality that is worth noting about this office Ms. Lark, is its detachment from my home. Word of mouth is how my work comes, but I am not foolish enough to leave any other traces such as documents and credit card receipts. I appreciate what you did for me all those years ago. The fact you are here now proves I need to be more selective with my clients and give more pseudonyms.” He paused, tipping his chin up so his eyes were leveled with hers as she rested on his desk. “I’m surprised you came all the way here to warn me.” 

[electra-lark-blog]

Greta’s hair fell over her face. In her office or in the courtroom she made it a habit to keep it tied back. The whisp of blonde in the corner of her vision was just another reminder of how out of her element Greta was willing to go with a tip of information. When she had heard Axel’s name, she didn’t think twice about tracking him down. It was becoming a trend for her to be a few steps ahead of the police. That wasn’t difficult to do with her ever-growing list of criminal connections. She merely had to do a bit of research, ask the right questions to the right people, and prove that she meant no harm. 

She pushed back her hair, adjusting slightly to his mannerisms. If he was going to treat her more professionally, she would take the cue and do the same. “With all due respect, Mr. Beckett, selectivity is not an issue. Whoever you entrust with any name can be persuaded to describe your location in one manner or another,” Greta explained. “I assume you’ve been practicing your craft since we last parted. You’ve managed to stay hidden for this long, so I trust that you know what you’re doing. I’m simply here to advise caution.” 

She straightened up, her tall stature causing her to loom over her past client before backing away. It was not meant to be menacing; in fact, it was quite the opposite. She relaxed slightly, the distance having lessened the tension in her body. She wasn’t surprised by her journey to his office at all. She knew how much she was willing to sacrifice for the well-being of others. How she craved their happiness more than anything, the only exception being revenge.

“If you had chosen any other lawyer to represent you, I guarantee they would not be standing here in front of you right now. Unlike the others, I am willing to admit I am human and place a significant amount of value in things such as your freedom. I care,” she told him. At this point, her professionalism began to fade in all aspects. She wasn’t in her office or the courtroom. She had invited herself into his workplace, after conducting an unauthorized hunt for the man. This was never truly about his making her job difficult, not at all. After a few short moments of silence, Greta shortened the distance between herself and the desk at which the forger was situated once again. “I know you have not been given an easy path in life, Axel. I’m not an idiot. I can tell when a man is fundamentally unhappy. The last thing you need is to be locked in a cell.”

[olympiansrpg-deactivated2017011]

BASICS

Name: Greta Vivian Lark Age: 31 Affiliation: Undecided/Neutral Occupation: Lawyer Faceclaim: Deborah Ann Woll Status: Closed

THE STORY

They call you Electra. No child thinks they’ll grow up tied to a mob; no, you had dreams, and to think you’d almost made it without letting the city corrupt you. You’d always had a sharp tongue and even a sharper mind - you see cracks nobody else can see, and you always knew what was right. It was pride you held in your heart because you knew what you were doing was to make the world a better place. Nobody thinks they’re going to end up with someone’s life on their hands; you committed the crime in the name of justice, but the law has no place for vigilante justice and you knew that even if you told them that you did it for your brother, it wouldn’t matter. Turning to Cronus wasn’t easy - owing them a debt still isn’t easy but it hasn’t changed you as a person. You still carry your own torch, and maybe you’ll be the one to bring real peace into this city for once.

SUGGESTED CONNECTIONS

Pan - past client. Nemesis - friend. Helen of Troy - dislikes.

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