❝all warfare is based on deception. hence, when we are able to attack, we must seem unable; when using our forces, we must appear inactive; when we are near, we must make the enemy believe we are far away; when far away, we must make him believe we are near.❞ // lucía. 27. intangible concept.
The last place that Benjamin had expected to find his new secretary was in the hospital. Especially after finding out that she’d been at the Primordial’s party and then injured in the inevitable shootout that followed. And that information gave him a lot of questions. He wasn’t sure if it was an unfortunate coincidence (which he truly doubted) or if he was being played by one of the clubs for information. “Hello Lucia,” Benjamin said as he stood in the doorway, his arms crossed in front of him, “I think we need to have a little talk, don’t you?”
lucía could feel the weight of ages’ worth of wasted time nibbling at her. the last thing she would’ve wanted was to be confined to a bed. suddenly she understood the urge to check oneself out more and more as it consumed her. the moment she’d been able to stand, she’d shuffled over to the window in her room, and shove it open in order for the smoke of her recently-lit cigarette not to send any smoke detectors crying. so what, she was craving a fucking smoke ---- or rather, anything that brought back the sensation, the ache, to her and reminded her what it was like not being numb.
her cheeks turned red the moment benjamin aeron himself stepped in. it was like the punchline of a badly-timed joke --- “ a man walks into a bar” ---. not this. not him, not now. please. how easy was it to run away with two bullet holes in you?
“hello, sir,” she responded, words devoid of their usual mischief. too late to call in sick now, wasn’t it? “agreed,” she sighed. “ask away. i’ll tell it how it is. i’m -- what do they say? -- an open book.”
when: late. past ten-year-old bright-eyed lucía’s bedtime-late. the air’s been colored sweet by the scent of deserts, and the laughter of the oblivious sprinkles the comfortable silence. it’s quiet, far too quiet.
where: primordial auto shop. an old home, an old friend / hospital
The common saying "the more, the merrier" remained true and very much alive the more people seemed to pour in through the doors. The scent of cinnamon and grilled meat colored the air heavy, and to Lucia, the song playing in the back had interwoven so seamlessly into the nonchalant conversations and breathy chuckles that it now sounded more like a hymn of the south itself.
Lucía herself did not know what to make of these gatherings - the current one, especially. It wasn't every day that a get-together of this magnitude was held, but then again, the dates as special as this one were few and far between. Even then, she could not feel as though Cronus Thane's ghost were looking over the event. It was impossible not to, given that this was the act of commemorating his creation, to celebrate his legacy. Once a portal was opened, ghosts were bound to come through whether they wanted it or not.
She's hopped from conversation to conversation - none of them involving the person she'd rather be talking to. If anything, today felt somewhat more unique solely due to all the tension in the background. But now, Lucía was impatient. She'd avoided the food table as if she were still waiting for the host, or the special guest, to come in before they could feast.
In a way, she was.
Parties were fun until they weren't. She must've lost track of time. Somewhere between the toast and the desert, everything had muffled, moments easing and overflowing like the mixed pigments in a painter's palette. She looked at her phone, the last call to one of the Trojan members. The conversation played in her head again.
"They're having a party at the auto shop."
"Are you sure?"
"I'm sure. Come now, and come prepared. It could use some entertainment."
The only thing she was able to distinguish was the screeching of tires, the subsequent smell of burnt rubber. For a moment, Lucía allowed herself to think that the event had altogether become more entertaining. The more the merrier, right? And who else was there to invite than the old family? Lucía playfully thought that the invitations had gotten lost. But Cronus was six feet under, so cold he surely would not care. The remaining Primordials, however...
The shots marked the time like the ticking of a clock, the falling empty caskets mirroring calm wind chimes. The weight of her own weapon weighed against her skin, swaying inside the pocket of her leather cut like a pendulum. But she hadn't drawn her weapon, and she doubted she would. Where would her aim fall? Who would her targets be? Whoever she aimed for would make her look bad. Aim for Knox, send the Trojans after her. Aim for Andy or Anthony, give herself away. If anything, she did what she so often did: she watched. In the chaos and confusion, it was hard. Leather did not darken or damp due to the crimson. It was messy, and she loathed messy. But if she knew something, Lucía knew news would be waiting for them the morning after.
She visualized herself moving toward the closest exit, ending up unmaimed and successfully avoiding getting caught in the cross-fire. And she tried. The cupboards, stools and auto were her aegides throughout the way. She had gotten far quickly when she felt hot. It hit her like a wave somewhere in the back, close to her shoulder, flowering and spreading like ripples in water. Then a second one in the leg. Boom. Gotcha, she thought.
Instinctively, she felt to the ground, uttering some curses as the denim surface dampened with hemoglobin. It was suddenly so cold, so cold she shivered. Her shaky hands clutched onto the leather, although her fingers proved to be too weak to hold on for long. Fucking bullshit. She wasn't supposed to become a casualty (not that she would, no. She'd drag whatever motherfuckers she could along with her if it came to that, but she was nowhere near done with her time yet). But suddenly she felt so sleepy, and her kids were getting heavier and heavier and everything felt so smooth and cozy and warm... She felt like a child in every sense, refusing to fall asleep. Growing up, she watched movies on their old cracked screen where the hero would get injured, and his friends would carry him an hold his hand. He'd be rushed through the ER, and someone in the back shouted that they were losing him. It felt so miserable not to be allowed that. Didn't she deserve something better? Something larger and kinder? No, none around here did, not when they were so willing to draw their arms and aim for their old brothers and sisters. She felt stupid for even feeling worthy of any kindness. But kindness was not the same as greatness, and it stung her how utterly shitty and stupid it would be for her to die in an auto shop while some shitty off-key country song remained stuck in her head. But maybe that's as big as she would get. When she had extended the invitation to Rhea's secret gathering over to the Trojans she wasn't expecting to get screwed over in any way.
Maybe it wouldn't hurt to take a nap now. Something to top this whole shitshow, like a cherry on top or something along that saying. Everything around her felt blurry and devoid of color. She closed her eyes, lights flashing on the back of her eyelids. And she slept, thankful to a strange, vulnerable extent that she was finally allowed to rest. It felt like a hug, like the welcome of an unseen yet familiar acquaintance. She of colors, like mauve and puce, then electric blue and poppy red. Her head went quiet before she felt as though she were being jolted awake, hoisted and shoved by an invisible tide. She found it unsettling to wake up in a different room, walls the same blinding shade of white as lilies, or the surface of the moon. Her eyes moved about the room while a distant beep increased in speed. The chemical smell made her want to throw up right then. Her limbs felt heavy and rigid, like she had been pulled apart and put back together carelessly and in the dark. Her ribcage burned, aching for air that wasn’t tinted with that fucking odor, or like it’d been stuffed with cotton. She didn’t feel light, or free, or changed; she felt fucked, and screwed, and stepped on.
God, if this ‘hangover’ wasn't turning out to be shittier than she'd expected. She'd never had anything against gatherings, or parties, but now the odd mixture of numbness and sharp, intense pain on her back and leg insisted on making her change her mind. She wondered if hospital food were to be as bad as it was made to be, and loathed thinking about the eventual bill in the mail. Maybe it was true: all snitches got were stitches. The only thing she desperately hoped was to be met with some good news from the Trojans in exchange for this inconvenience. She would be pissed had the fucking shots not been worth it in the end.
No one can tell what goes on in between the person you were and the person you become. No one can chart that blue and lonely section of hell. There are no maps of the change. You just come out the other side. Or you don’t.
“God knows we’ll never be in a place where we’re satisfied with things.” It was a simple comment, one without much thought behind it. Manny wasn’t someone who thought too much about the human condition or how people could never have just enough. The truth is, he was talking more about himself. Sure he had everything he could want right now, but there’s always something that leaves a little bit of wanting - a certain red head who he wished he could walk around town with, hands entwined, for instance.
But not while the two of them existed in different worlds.
“Nothin’ too exciting, Lucia. Just that I started seeing someone.” Another sip.
“cheers,” she grinned, lifting her glass. yeah, she’d drink to that. god knew olympus wasn’t home to many comfortmists. if it were, lucía doubted the schism would have ever happened. it was like each and every one of them had an infinite well inside of them, making them prone to impulses and injecting their bloodsteam with gunpowder eager to burn bright. that dissatisfaction, that unwillingness to settle, would be the true end of them all.
the glass touched her lips as she took a sip. a curious grin spread across her features, tugging at the corners of her mouth. “oh--” she’d picked up rumors here and there, but she’d rather hear everything first hand. “really? and how’s that going for you so far?”
Kameer found himself at the Little Dove Diner after work occasionally. It was a good spot to just ponder what was going on and what his next moves would be. There was plenty he could do with what was going on, but for now, he would bid his time. Of course, it was also nice to support his neighbor’s place of business, even if she was a bit too nosy for his liking. He knew she was interested in his work with the MCs and he knew he had to be careful what he said to her.
He motioned to the seat,”You’re welcome to join me, even without paying, Ms. Echeverría.” He had worked with her a few times at this point, though he wasn’t sure what member of the MCs he hadn’t worked with. “Staying out of trouble?”
the brunette took the seat, smiling back at the other. she wondered how come people in this godforsaken place could remain a kind or idealistic as kameer gbeho appeared to be. people like him were not impossible, but rare nonetheless, like daytime moons. it was common knowledge that large part of the town would be doomed without him (herself included), which only made his work more intriguing to lucía. she didn’t mind buying him a drink -- it was a ‘thank you’ gesture of sorts, on the behalf of those who, like her, owed an unspoken lot to the lawyer.
“i insist. just tryin’ to pay some kindness forward,” she almost chuckled, softly. “certainly. though, to be fair, it’s not the easiest thing to do in a place like this, especially now.” it was like trouble always found them, one way or the other. when it came to trouble, it was much like with the mc’s: once you’d let it in, you were claimed for for life. “and you? keepin’ busy?”
The job history was impressive, though Benjamin still wanted to see a resume as well as references from her previous employers, just to be sure. But at this point he was aware he probably didn’t have much of a choice in Olympus - at least not at the moment. “So what happened that has you looking for a job now?” he asked, not even sorry that the conversation had turned more into an interview than anything else, “With all of that going for you, I’m surprised that you haven’t had more luck around town.”
the young woman shrug gently, shaking her head ever so gently. it was one fo the first times she could savour uncertainty on the tongue. i don’t know. she didn’t want to send everything crumbling by giving out the wrong answer --- chess games could be lost in single movements, after all. at the same time, it wasn’t anything she’d questioned before. she didn’t know.
“----- is there such thing as luck in this town, though?” lucía questioned. they were all screwed in some form or another. it was a half-truth; she didn’t believe in luck, she believed in skills. people’s lives where what they made them out to be. one had the power to grow themselves an empire through the same means they could dig their own graves. in the end, it was never a matter of luck. at least not in her eyes. things were hers, and hers alone, or not. simple as that.
“i quit to come back home for a while. family called. but either way, i somehow felt a bit out of place. like there was something more fitting out there -- a bigger job, a better one. car dealers don’t help people the way mayors do, don’t they?”
“It depends on the day actually,” he said as he took two pills and slid the pack back to her. “Typically those days are Fridays, I like to be able to hear from the people and see what I can do for their concerns. But any other day of the week it’s supposed to be by appointment only,” Benjamin explained. And while he wasn’t exactly a fan of the open door policy he had instated at the end of the week, especially as it ended up with him wasting an entire day, it at least gave him the reputation of being for the people of Olympus. And that was what was important.
Glancing at the door after her question, he realized that his secretary was now an hour late returning from the hour lunch that he had given her and at any rate, it seemed like she didn’t really care to do the job well. Which left an opening. “It’s possible,” he replied, nodding his head along with his words, “What sort of things are you proficient in? Might as well start there to see if there’s anything that might here.”
fridays. it made sense -- right before ridding off into the weekend. she didn’t blame him. in fact, she couldn’t even come to imagine the kind of shitty burden running a town as chaotic as this would bring upon one’s shoulders. the mc’s presidents could barely keep their members in line ---- now imagine what it would be like for a single man to control an entire town. if that were her, she’d be getting through an entire painkiller pack a day.
“in that case, i’m sorry for burstin’ in like that. i’m sure you’re quite busy as it is and i’d hate--” she began, though she held no true intention of leaving. modesty for modesty’s sake could get one a long way. she smiled ---- not mischievously, no. she saw this for the masquerade it was. she saw the paper faces on parade with their ability to fool even one’s closest friends. she wouldn’t remove her own mask now. not yet ---- warmly, innocently, as if worthy of anyone’s trust. “well, ain’t this my lucky day, then?” the woman beamed softly.
“anythin’ you might need,” she didn’t say it to boost her own ego. it was simply that, being one who’d gotten to know need, she recognized the ease with which opportunities arose for the ‘jack-of-all-trades’ kind of people. “i started as an intern for a marketin’ firm. not too excitin’, but i was pretty efficient at transcribin’ meetings and handlin’ mail. then in retail, i was tasked with overseein’ shipments and maintaining inventory, but mostly worked at costumer service. there’s somethin’ so important about reassurin’ frantic visitors that they’ll get back what they paid for... and then some. i’m sure you understand the nature of this. i know very well how to manage books from working at that popular pawn shop in new orleans. but most recently, i worked as a secretary for the owner of that car dealership -- you might’ve heard of them... larusso auto group? i was the one coordinatin’ meetings and organizing calendars, taking care of all those time-consumin’ phonecalls, putting together the catalogue ---- anything and everything they needed me to do. it all paid off in the end ---- voted #1 in ‘customer satisfaction’ five years in a row. ”
Manny took another sip of his beer, thinking back to the events that have transpired in the last few weeks. It’s been insane in the MC since founder’s day - but things haven’t hit the fan too much, yet.
“All things considered? I’m doing pretty well, I think.” He shrugged, running a hand through his hair. “I mean things could be better - not all of it’s bad though, so that’s great.”
“all things considered...” the brunette echoed, nodding slowly as if giving each word time to seep and intertwine seamelessly into the bourbon-scented air. he had a point. the fact that all things considered, they were still talking gave her some hope. hell, the fact that she still had her limbs attached to her was more than enough. though, something in her was eager to see how quick the bottled-up frustration would pierce through the patience and resistence. “they could always be better----” but they’d never be. this was was over when they said it was. “hmm,” lucía almost purred; she was curious. not all of it? that made her think he had his secret source of good news.
“got anythin’ exciting you’d like to share, claros?” she half-teased, having a sip of her drink.
“You don’t have to apologize.” He shrugged. This wasn’t her fault. Ryder didn’t want to say yes, wanted to tell Lucia that he could do this on his own. But his brain was foggy with exhaustion and his sides were screaming in pain, so he held a hand out to her. “Deal, just gotta get up the stairs.” When his aunt got home he’d get the speech of a lifetime, because he was sure the hospital called her, but he couldn’t consider that right now. “…thanks, by the way.”
“i just did,” she responded, cheekily, as if she found satisfaction in being ever so playful. the apology itself was a microcosm. she owed him an apology for her lack of foresight, for her inability to ask the right questions and thus avoid the beatdown. but she didn’t need to say that. maybe she was just far too tired to think straight at this point.
as carefully and gently as she could, she slid into the space between his ribs and arm, providing her neck and back as support while she helped him up the stairs. “you don’t have to thank me. ‘s the least i can do.”
as she was getting ready to leave afterwards, she turned back to him, an attentive expression coloring her features. “will you be alright for the night?”
☇WHEN: sometime before noon
☇WHERE: little dove diner
☇ WHO: ft. kameer gbeho / @alastor-gbeho
little dove diner had always held special regard in lucía’s eyes. she loved the concept of diners -- time-travelling experiences garnished with a little bow on top to make it appealing in the romantic teenager’s eye. she was willing to put up with the owner’s distaste toward those her kind in exchange for a cup of freshly-brewed coffee.
the checkered pattern, silver finishes and overall familiarity greeted her like an old acquaintance as she stepped inside. with a purposeful space, she approached the other upon spotting him, taking the adjacent seat nonchalantly.
“mind if i sit? i’ll pay for your drink of choice. for old times’ sake, yeah?”
He didn’t remember when he had gotten there; he just knows it’s been a few hours and about four beers since he’d walked through the door to the bar. Manny wasn’t anywhere near drunk at this point, but he did have a buzz going on - a familiar warmth in his gut that radiated out into every limb.
He heard the front door open and someone approach the bar. Manny didn’t look at first, instead he took the time to take a long sip of his stout, savoring the hint of coffee it was brewed with. Setting his glass down he turned, to the newcomer.
“Hey,” he said. “How goes it?”
for someone who was always looking to inject some excitement into her lifestyle, lucía sure enjoyed repetition. she was one to find enjoyment in rituals, and amusement in patterns. call her cheesy, but there was something so exotically simple in repetition, in the way actions fell into a familiar order before one’s eyes like pieces of a puzzle coming together.
she walked in, nodding at the faces worthy of being acknowledged. her gaze met others’ before she finally took a seat, leaning over to the server and grinning. “ -------- the usual, please.”
the brunette looked around before replying, as if thinking he had addressed someone else.
“hey,” lucía echoed, receiving her hugo and taking a sip. “as well as you might expect, given everythin’ that’s happened. how’s it goin’ for you?”
Benjamin looked over the woman who was in his doorway, and figured that he’d at least take her up on that as a precursor to the headache he could feel was going on. “If you have any, I’d love some,” he answered, giving her the same charming smile that he gave everyone else. Or at least everyone who had the potential to vote for him, it was a mask that he wore well and helped him play the part of the savior of the town. A mask that would soon be a reality once he at least got the police to stop being incompetent and do their jobs. “Do you have an appointment today?” he asked as he welcomed her into his office, “Or is there something that we can do for you? I know there’s been a lot of uncertainty in the town lately.”
“i wouldn’t have offered if i didn’t have any on me--” she grinned back, then cheekily adding: “-- mr. mayor.” subsequently, she dug into her purse like the claw arcade machines fishing for a price, pulling out a small pack and sliding it gently across the surface of the desk toward him. “’m afraid not. but it’s my fault, i thought you took walk-ins.”
“well--” she sighed softly, “that’s one way to put it. see, i came here ‘cause i didn’t know where else to go. i was wondering if you, as mayor of olympus, had any... how should i put it... connections -- businesses that might be in need of new labor. i’ve gone from door to door but nothin’s come up yet.” the brunette then chuckled, shaking her head and feigning helpess modesty. “i don’t suppose the town hall might be lookin’ to hire someone, would it?”
Ryder stared at her. Eyes narrowing because how could he actually know this was Lucia? Maybe his mind was playing tricks on him. But then she spoke and honestly, he wasn’t smart enough to hallucinate someone that much. “They sure did try though,” His voice heavily accented as he leans forward to talk to her. “A lotta me is fucked up Lucia, most of myself…some might say.” Grinning at her he shrugged. “Because I don’t want to talk about that, that’s why.” He sounded like a child but hey, he looks like a wad of gum at the bottom of a shoe, let him have this.
finally, lucía nodded, sighing. she knew there would be no use beating a dead horse. if she were to keep pushing ryder’s boundaries, it would only result in more frustration at best. she liked to think of themselves as civilized, yet here they were, claiming lives and beating the enemy from the shadows. her features softened, and she found herself mirroring his grin. “fine. fine,” she let out, huffing ever so gently yet not out of anger. “’m sorry.”
“not another word, i promise.” truly, she felt incapable to deal with this situation; she wasn’t the right person, not even the person he needed. maybe staying out of business outside her own was best for now. “look, i gotta head home. let me at least help you up and get you on your way,” she wanted to offer a hand, even if it was only to help him get to his aunt’s house’s porch. “please?”
No. It was the answer he’d love to give the woman cause honestly, he wasn’t trying to deal with this shit right now. There was but so much a man wanted to take on at once. People needed breaks, he needed a break cause the shit he had to deal with day in and day out was exhausting. It was tiring being on all the time which is why he would have loved to tell the intruding woman to fuck off so he could enjoy his dance and his moment - second of relaxation to himself but as tiring as his job was, he had to be the one doing it. When he’d taken on the title of president, he’d promised no one else would care as much or give as much to the club as he would. Shying away from his job when there was work that could be done cause he needed a breather wasn’t him upholding that promise.
Forcibly pushing the dancer back onto her feet, muttering a low apology, it was with a wave of his hand that he dismissed the woman. “I’ll give you a call.” He murmured, as she walked off his gaze remaining locked on her up till she walked out the door. Waiting a beat longer to make sure the coast was clear, it was only when he was sure it was just the two of them that he turned on the intruder. “Aren’t snitches supposed to be covert and shit?” Perhaps too rude of a way to refer to her but he was still bitter over his dance being interrupted, sue him. “You got information for me?” Cause she damn sure hadn’t informed him on the hit that had taken place on Ryder. “Something to help us be ahead of the beatdown this time?”
oblivious to the fact that she was being but a pain in the as, lucía stood with her arms crossed. she waited in silence for the lovebirds ---- a term used very, very loosely here ---- to bid farewell. were she in owen’s shoes, she would probably have rejected herself right then and there as well. her eyes rarely diverted from meeting his, only to look at dancer as she moved and exited. how tragic and painful it had been for her to steal such precious moment from them. whatever; this war had robbed her of the few remaining fucks she gave.
the brunette pressed her lips together, figners drumming against skin as they waited. it was somewhat of an unspoken deal to wait until the coast was clear. then, like an unpredictable storm casting a lighting onto the unsuspecting population, their walls bounced off the walls, heavy with frustration at one another.
( SNITCHES. that’s what she was. a SNITCH -- the kind that ‘got stitches’ or ‘ended in ditches’. nice one. )
“’snitch’-- i hadn’t heard that one before. what, would you prefer it if i faxed you instead?” lucía blurted out. as far as she was concerned, rarely did either of the clubs place a large emphasis on secretiveness. up until then, hadn’t it all been about leaving the loudest message? but she’d take the word, swallow it like a gulp of bourbon. he didn’t get to complain when she was risking her neck to help.
“nothing that you didn’t already know. anthony was the one behind the mess at the dive, and now ryder checked himself out of the hospital despite being encouraged not to. it’s all the fucking same.” they were creatures of habit. it pained her to admit that there was nothing new (nothing new that she’d gotten access to, that is), and in her own mind, that made her feel even more incompetent.
“they’re not letting shit slip,” at least not around anyone who did not hold the surname ‘thane’. “it’s like it’s just the ones higher up who’re orchestrating the attacks. like it’s them against the world, and everyone else were an afterthought.” when had the primordial mc not relied on bias? “but you probably already fuckin’ knew that, didn’t you?”
