You can't save them all, boy☀️

Indie-OC, Semi-Selective, Multiverse 21+

[malonox]

Cooking was partially relaxing, meandering easy task that it consisted of. As Zeke spoke now, offering a shower right before cutting off in shock over the mention of the lodge.... well, Scratch was considering of simply explaining he had no spare clothes to shower. All of that was in the car, and now was probably hell knows dropped where on Alan's way to New York City.

❝Is there something wrong with the lodge?❞ "Elias" forces a small confused voice, to seem equally perplexed about such a reaction as it itself. Elderwood Palace Lodge was merely a hotel now, occupied often enough by Wake and Scratch. Nothing to worry about. ❝I appreciate it, Zeke...❞ At that Scratch hums lightly. He honestly rather stay here, enjoy the company and the literature accessible to him.

❝Just got to hope I don't slip up with myself,❞ Scratch mutters to himself and nobody else in particular as he continues with the pancakes.

He hears the soft ruckus as the two disagree outside, sets the plates once Kayla leaves. Scratch feels at peace again then, chuckling carefully at Zeke's apology and adding a quick 'no worries' to it.

As the Deputy talks, Scratch finds himself listening in honest good effort, but it's difficult. All he can think of is interjecting with his own truth. He clears his throat, allowing for a second of silence that's a little tense to settle.

❝I like you, Zeke. I really... I feel like your light-- which no offense, you do have plenty off-- is offsetting my darkness. I do... erm, I really do like that. But I don't wanna be a charity case, or bother you. I mean, I'm practically homeless now. I couldn't pay for a night in the lodge's room and a day of food, because all I've got is fifty bucks in my pocket.❞ Scratch sighs, laying it heavy. ❝I honestly don't know what to do... It's my addiction that got me into this mess, to begin with. I just...feel bad adding to a list of issues for myself, and especially for you.❞

At that, Scratch focuses his eyes directly at Zeke and offers a weak lopsided smile. ❝I don't know what the best course of action really is. I just wanna get better, and get home eventually.❞

[sollumin]

Officer Miller looked as if he were genuinely considering what Elias was asking. What was wrong with letting him stay at the lodge, truly?? What person would be so stupid, so insane as to make such a scene and try and kill someone with so many witnesses around??

Despite feeling uncomfortable about leaving Elias out of sight, the Officer had to let up on his protection detail. Kayla really did know him like that.

"Well.. not really?? It might be a bit much, y'know..?? Tourists. It's swamped come Deerfest time. You understand it makes our job that much more complicated, especially with the murders. If this continues, Deerfest will have to be cancelled for the year and foreseeable future. And you can't just tell these people something like that."

He sighed with a half-hearted smile. He truly adored this town with everything he had and would give his life for it if it came to it.

That, too, would be up for consideration. What would it take to finally catch this butcher??

Approaching the counter, Zeke sighed as he mulled it over and drank from a new cup of coffee made in the way he preferred. It wasn't like the coffee at the Diner, but it would do for now. He stared out the window in silence as he did, listening to the subtle sounds of the spatula and the soft sizzle of the residual pancake batter in the pan.

He wouldn't let this case get to him; after all, Zeke had his other priorities, too. Even if he didn't have Elias staying with him anymore, it didn't mean they didn't have some sort of friendship from this?? Zeke liked Elias. As unfortunate as his life was, most likely even before he came here, Zeke could sense that underneath, there was a man who wanted to be valued and understood more than anything. He would try to give him both the best way he knew how and without causing hardship. As his councillor but as a friend now as well.

Miller paused in mid-sip as his gaze eventually rested on Elias once more. What he said next confused him as much as it hurt him somehow. What did he mean by 'Your light is offsetting my darkness'? Where the heck did that come from, and was it some sort of metaphor?? An unfair comparison?? No. He was overstepping himself again.

He watched the other man as if at a temporary loss for words.

Elias was really in bad shape, wasn't he? It made him all the more angry and justified in having a chat with this other person for leaving him in his struggles like this.

Luckily for both of them, Elias' struggles were why Zeke felt the need to approach him in the first place. No judgement, no expectations. Despite his offer of assistance, the last thing Zeke wanted him to feel was that he felt sorry for him.

"Now hang on, you have it all wrong. I don't see you as a charity case, Elias. I want to help you at least figure things out and make the best of the situation that you're in?? If you feel like 'My light is crowding your darkness,' I'll give you the space, and I'm sorry. Really, I am. I'll let you go, but..I'm just... Ever since we met at the meeting, I felt like you needed something more than what most could offer. You seem surprisingly receptive and willingly accepting of insight and support. It's just too bad we couldn't get further because of all this. And I hope you take this in the right way too, but I would feel personally responsible if I let you leave and something happened to you. I know I said you were free to do what you want, but what can I do to convince you to stay?? Let's see.. You can 'bother me' about anything, all you want, at any time, at night. You can make whatever you want in my kitchen, like coffee. Hell, you can even take my bed. But reconsider this, please?? Call it smothering, but somewhere between that, I'm just trying to be a friend and do what I'm expected to do by protecting the people of this town." Did he seem too desperate?

Placing his cup gently on the counter, Zeke turned fully towards the other he called his friend, a pained smile as he silently hoped his viewpoint was adequately communicated and that Elias would, as a result, reconsider. All Officer Miller needed was more time and something more to go on.

"And we'll figure this out, Elias. Could you please trust me? Let me help you, help yourself. Okay?? We will get you home. I can promise you that."

[malonox]

Scratch hears Zeke's voice and muffled words come through the bathroom door. It helps it was slightly ajar, because... well, he wasn't doing anything conspicuous. He considers the officers words and steps outside for better clarity.

❝I don't know if he's still in town. I think he already left,❞ He explains, raising his voice only slightly to be heard. A quick glance at his t-shirt shows it's wet and he doesn't have a spare article to replace it with... Great.

Scratch walks down the hall, aware he looks awful, and an equally miserable expression on his face. He ignores Kayla, and focuses on Zeke.

❝I'm sorry to say, I think I'm stranded here for now, Zeke... I'll try to get a room at the lodge, though. Don't worry.❞ He offers an awkward smile. ❝I guess I'll be in town for another few days.❞ Scratch shoots the woman in the room a side eyed glare. ❝Maybe I can convince Al' to come pick me up...❞ He sighs, looking back at Zeke.

Meanwhile, the pancakes smelled amazing and Scratch smiled now much happier. ❝I'm starving. Need any help with anything else, buddy?❞

He liked the idea of cooking, he even liked the idea of helping around. Scratch used to think the joy of it came from fixing his image in front of Wake, but now he wasn't certain. Maybe he just enjoyed the domesticity of it? Nevertheless, he wanted to be of use in these meager and meaningless ways. Zeke was already on his preferred humans list, only hope is to make it onto Zeke's favorites.

[sollumin]

Zeke moved to inspect the pancakes closely. Just a quick peek wouldn't spoil them, would it? Surely not. There would still be plenty of time for them to cook at this temperature, and yet they already smelt delicious! An absent-minded smile before standing up straight once again, pleased with it all, before turning back to address his guests. The first thing he noted was the wet shirt that clung to the other man's skin, suspicious of a potential plumbing problem with the sink. He tried his best to remain composed, hiding his remorseful grin as much as he could.

"Elias, if you want to take a shower, you're more than welcome to! I have-"

It was a moment before Elias' words settled amongst his thoughts, a mixed feeling then.

"--At the lodge?"

He repeated, knowing full well what Elias just said. A bad habit. Yet, Elder Wood Lodge couldn't be the worst spot to stay, right? It was close enough, public enough and it would give them both enough space to keep Zeke from worrying about being too overbearing. Another bad habit. Anything was better than worrying about his safety here and with Kayla around. (Where did that come from, anyway?)

"Ah, why not? I will call the desk and see if I can book you a room at no charge. In the meantime, you're welcome to flip the pancakes when they're ready! I know you wanted to surprise me with your help, and I'm actually pretty flattered. Mind the pun, heh. I'm just kind of all in here, like always."

Zeke motioned with his hands, a sheepish grin.

"I'm sorry, Elias. I'll let you get back to it. Do you need a lift after breakfast? I'll be heading to work soon, and it's on the way, I might as well? Kayla migh-

"-I'll walk, did it before? Pretty sure they won't get me in the light, anyway."

She placed her cheek in her hand as she waited impatiently for breakfast to be done.

"That's not- Kayla, you know they're-"

Sighing, he really couldn't help but drop the subject. It was useless to argue with her.

"Alright then, I'll see you tonight. You better be here before-"

"Yeah, yeah. What are you, my brother? Layoff Miller, I'll be here. Where else can I go? Your boys have this town on lockdown like we're some bunch of wild animals."

She couldn't wait anymore, growing more and more agitated with the ticks of the clock. Rising from her chair quickly, she opted to grab fruit from the bowl on the table, taking a large bite from the pear she gripped in her hand. Her dark eyes watched Elias from where she stood, communicating the same sentiments she held for the other man. Kayla would have to miss this breakfast, miss the opportunity to confront Elias but there would be other opportunities. With a wave of her hands, she dismissed herself without another word, leaving the room in an uneasy silence.

"Sheesh, she's a ray of sunshine this morning!? Again, I'm sorry she's like this, Elias. It takes Kayla a while to.. We're all on edge, as you probably know already. While you were in the bathroom, the office called, and it's getting worse out there."

Momentarily, he ran his fingers across his faint stubble, considering whether or not it was wise to divulge classified information like this. Screw it.

"They just found a couple of people out by the docks and nothing much else to go on. That's already some bad news. I'm also kind of considering if I should let you stay at the lodge tonight, but.. Kayla kind of has a point; in some way, I don't want you thinking you're being kept under constant watch, a prisoner. You're not. You're free to do what you wish, so long as it's within reason. Like anyone else. I didn't want to give you the wrong impression, just in case."

[sollumin]

@malonox

continued from here

The only thing Kayla and Elias hoped to have in common was their beliefs and interactions. Kayla would choose not to allow the man's words to settle light like she would Zeke's, and it was anything but a pleasant experience to meet someone like Elias, either. Everything about him rubbed her the wrong way, and he continued to do so until he decided to leave the room to clean up. She knew there was more to Elias than he was letting on, and if Miller refused to play his part, he too would eventually lose himself along with the one he so foolishly accommodated.

Knowing it was best not to push the officer further, Kayla chose to keep her mouth shut about the elephant in the room and maintained her role as the concerned friend. Sitting down at the table, Kayla forced an eagerly awaiting smile as Zeke tended to the rest of the pancakes that sat in the bowl, yet to be poured into the awaiting pan.

This tentative submission seemed to put the officer in better spirits, not as tense as he once was when the issue about Elias was first addressed. It was quieter now, peaceful enough as he half-listened to the pan sizzle and the water run in the bathroom as Elias cleaned himself up. Regardless of the silence outside, the inside of his head was near-deafening, with the thoughts of Kayla's accusations paired with the dread of observing yet another body on a slab at the morgue. He refused to believe Elias had anything to do with the latter.

"So I guess we can order something out tonight, if you're sticking around?"

It's a pointless question, but it would at least interrupt the constant assault of thoughts for now.

"What, and directly go against that stupid curfew?"

"It's not stupid, Kayla, and.. I sort of forgot. I guess we can make something at home, otherwise?"

Turning his attention back towards the bathroom, Zeke didn't wait for Kayla to answer. Instead, he waited for the tap before deciding to raise his voice enough for it to reach the other man,

"If it's not too much trouble, would your partner be willing to join us for dinner before you head back to New York? Elias? It's quite the trip, not worth leaving on empty stomachs?"

[sollumin]

@malonox Continued from here Kayla stood with her arms crossed, eyes following Zeke as he proceeded to clean up the rest of the mess. Her words could never reach him, no matter how she tried. He solely believed that the other man standing with him in his kitchen was the patron saint of innocence themself, utterly incapable of inducing any conceivable harm. She could feel the anger settling in her stomach, rising into her chest as her arms tightened against it. Perhaps she wasn't doing this right, or something in the delivery was lacking. Whatever it was, it begged from her a new approach, a change in strategy. Time would force what she couldn't, and rest assured, someone would take the blame.

For now, the female consciously reigned herself back in, forcing a smile contrary.

"You may be right.. Elias. I'm so so sorry for accusing you like that! It just wasn't cool of me, wasn't fair, and we've just met. Can you forgive me?"

Her words were honeyed thick, but it was always enough for Miller, and in turn, the officer's mood lightened almost entirely then. No harm done. About to take one of the paper towels to Elias's shirt, Zeke then thought better of it and offered it to him instead with an apologetic grin.

"Eh..This thing is all just one big mess, but no harm in a bit of spilled batter between friends, right? As far as I can tell, it still looks plenty edible, and thanks to Elias, most of the work is already done! I'm going to be late to the station anyway, so I figured we might as well sit down and get a proper breakfast in us before we call your partner and get to the bottom of all of this."

Taking the mug of coffee off the counter, Zeke brought it to his lips and unconsciously imbibed it until the taste settled prominently on his tongue. He would pause, his body recoiling in the surprise. Too sweet. Oh God, it was much too sweet. No sooner did the mug leave the counter than he returned it, instead opting for a swig of water to flush out the taste. As much as there was still to learn about Elias, at least Zeke knew now how he liked his coffee.

[malonox]

I will allow my chaos to exist within my stillness, not one without the other. Genius. But that got Scratch's head reeling. Could he still accept that part of himself and not risk lashing out? Wouldn't he still be too much of a deadweight and risk for Alan?

He thinks it over a bit as Zeke steps out, unbothered by him picking up the phone. Instead, he comes to a quick realization ━ dammit. He was in the kitchen. Wake would have shooed him out by now. It wasn't wrong, though. He could be here. It's fine. He's not gonna mess anything up. Zeke was busy, he might as well pour the coffee for them both, and get it over with. So, Scratch moves to the coffee machine, pours two cups of the beverage, and pauses at his mug. He needed lots of sugar and probably cream to make it bearable.

Scratch opens the fridge, so far, so good. He looks over the content and spots a carton, picks it up, and pours some of it into the coffee cup. He places it back, feeling confident. See, no fire. Nothing burned. He moves around the kitchen for a moment, till he finds the sugar. Hell, he even tests it to make sure it is the sugar. Puts two spoonfuls into his mug. Great work. Now, he could do more. As a thanks to Zeke for being so kind, right? A start to recovery. Doing good deeds to make himself feel better about who he is.

After some digging around, Scratch pulled out a bowl that seemed fit. He found some of the ingredients. Started to get to work. He'll let his chaos in the kitchen exist with his stillness, he finds that thought popping in. Damn right. He won't mess this up, either way, because he was always setting himself up for failure. Always Wake's shadow, never his own man. He only needed a better outlook.

[sollumin]

It was just as Officer Miller dreaded; the news that would surely end the otherwise pleasant and quiet morning he shared with his guest. Another scene, another body. Three, in fact; two men and a woman found floating off the ferry pier. The details were scant. However, according to the lead investigator, it was deemed an accidental group drowning due to a lack of bodily trauma. The very thought of it furrowed the officer's brow.  A drowning couldn't be so simple. Why the pier, of all places?

This was nothing like their killer's M.O. If they somehow changed their tactics, this unsettling and unpredictable shift indicated that the murderer's blood lust was increasing, unsaitiated with the killing of just one person. Were they working alone? How could they manage when they were clearly outnumbered 3 to 1? How did it not attract attention? The curfew may have helped with that part, but surely someone could have managed to escape to get help?

Zeke lowered the phone from his ear, emitting a strong exhalation of discontent. He couldn't afford to think about the case right now, not until he was there to fill in the blanks. His main concern was Elias, could he leave him here and on his own? He wasn't a child, someone that needed constant supervision and attention, yet the thoughts endured. What could he do while he was gone? Where would he go? They still needed to find a way to contact his partner, to arrange to have him picked up. Wasn't that the most important thing? Didn't he want that for him?

A soft squeak of the wooden door hinge announced the entrance of an unexpected guest, shoes thudding carelessly and haphazardly against the wooden and carpeted floors told of an imprudent individual who also knew the layout of the house well enough to find the kitchen, with Elias standing in its centre. Preoccupied with her thoughts and the bags she carried, she walked past Elias in search of available counter space.

"You wouldn't believe how many orders of fish and chips I had to fry for today's lunch special. I feel like I belong on one of those dish soap commercials. With the cute ducks? God, I smell so disgusting, do you mind if I borrow your shower and some clothes until I can go back to my house and change?.. Zeke?"

Pausing in her unpacking, she could sense a shift in the surrounding air, a subconscious realization that something was wrong, and that she wasn't actually speaking to who she thought she was. As soon as she turned and her dark eyes met the other's, she let out a sharp and forceful scream of terror.

The scream startled the Officer, so much so that it instantly reefed him from his thoughts while spurring him into action. Running down the hall, Zeke skidded to a stop the moment he reached the kitchen, "Wh-Kayla?! Wait!! He's a friend!!"

[malonox]

Somewhere, in the house, Scratch hears a thump of something hitting the ground, and questions it momentarily but then his mind returns to the content of what he read. He hears Zeke trying to be quiet, but then his mind starts to wander...

Mantras. Like Wake's Dadaist poem, like any of Zane's poems, becoming the building blocks to the Dark Place or beyond. He just needed a mantra, a chant for himself, to remind himself he could do better. But what could it be? He couldn't meditate without that, could he? Well, truthfully, he didn't know. But it was worth a shot.

Awareness of the moment in the present, observation of his own patterns, and commitment to do this━ well, he could do all of that with no worries. But coming up with his own words of affirmation, something to help him would be hard to come up with on his own. He'd call and ask Alan, but he would hang up upon realizing who he was talking to, right?

Scratch hears Zeke talk, and makes a vague sound at the question about his insomnia. He'll be fine, he'll just pretend to sleep the upcoming night, instead. Nothing lost yet.

❝Yeah, I'm good-- I've just... never got so drawn in by a book before,❞ Scratch replies, still a little off his footing. Not entirely true, Wake's writing had a way of affecting him, despite how bad he thought it was. ❝Hey, Officer Miller━ um... I mean, Zeke,❞ He calls out in forced habit. ❝Sorry.❞ He shakes his head and gets off the couch, turning off the dim light in the living room and striding towards Zeke in the kitchen.

❝Do you have any ideas about words of affirmation? The book had examples but I'm... not entirely certain how to handle my own. I would ask my partner, but I think he probably hasn't cooled off yet. Anger issues, you know how it is, ha-ha...❞ He cringes as he talks, pauses, and shakes his head. ❝Sorry, I'm just used to revolving around him.❞

[sollumin]

Zeke stifles a yawn as he pours the water into the machine's basin, more careful this time than the last. Slower. More attentive. So many mornings before, with the stress of little time and ill planning, he had settled for whatever was available at the station. Doughnuts, baked goods, cake, and whatever else was left for them in the break room from numerous events and activities in town. The same percolated coffee that always tasted somewhat off compared to the Diner.

How silly he felt ignoring such simple things as making meals on the stove and sitting at his kitchen table. Something about having Elias here had put it all into perspective again, slowed the world around him just enough to appreciate it all. A welcomed shift in pace, long overdue.

Grabbing a cup from the cupboard, Miller reflected on the few select passages of the book he suggested the night before. 'Chaos cannot be considered a separate facet in which it is to be objectified, isolated from its crucial parts. In and of itself, it cannot live as it is, a raw energy without its counterpart. A balancing in the world of its dissemblance. We seek an ever-present serenity, a ritual and inflection of the higher self. Only there can both co-exist contemporaneously.' To deny one's storm was to deny one's very existence. (A phrase Zeke often brought up in group discussions.) Addiction was never a sole player but a consequence of chaos without equilibrium.

Zeke refocuses on the man who has passed the threshold of his thoughts and is now standing in his kitchen. Seeing Elias automatically invokes a smile, his curiosity disarming and an endearing trait eliciting the officer and councillor's admiration.

"'I will allow my chaos to exist within my stillness, not one without the other.' We don't truly lose control of ourselves but surrender to the thoughts and feelings we permit to have power over us. In the understanding, we accept that we are the only constant in all this—our centre. It's like what I said at our meeting yesterday: Only we have the capability and the choice to create or destroy our worlds and what's in them."

As if on cue, the appliance's timer chirped in completion. Simultaneously, so did his cell phone humming with an incoming call. Momentarily startled, Zeke retrieved it from his sweatpants pocket and immediately accepted the call. He wouldn't have to see who the caller was or wait to hear the authoritative voice on the other end in salutations to know it was the Sheriff's Station, most likely calling with an update about his case inquiry.

Flashing Elias with an apologetic smile, he excused himself for the moment.

[malonox]

One of them? Scratch knew he wasn't, but he had to be now. He wanted to be. Just to get better and be good enough to get back to what he really needed to be doing. His new purpose.

❝Right, I noticed. Everyone loves coffee here. Town-wide obsession.❞ The black sheep, yet again, Scratch didn't enjoy most foods, and coffee was utterly at the bottom of the list. He could drink it, but it was far too bitter for him. Other FBC employees said he has a sweet tooth, but Scratch just rolled his eyes at that. The matter of the case and Zeke's fixation on it gets pushed aside. It would do no good to comment on it, not now.

Zeke moves closer, and Scratch directs his eyes at him, looking over the officer and even angling the book to show the cover. Oddly domesticated of him. As Zeke talks, he wonders if this specific reading material might become of great assistance. If he could just realize where he was, and hold himself together, he wouldn't have to lash out.

The other comment by Miller stalls him. Casey brings back memories of Alan, of the stupid incident early morning at Cauldron Lake. Scratch tries to seem unaffected. Why did he talk then? Why did he come clean when the writer asked?

When Zeke says good night in so many words, Scratch merely waves him off and grins at the breakfast suggestion. ❝Sounds great,❞ He replies, realizing he means that. Banana pancakes was Wake's least favorite thing to cook, and with Scratch being banned from the kitchen, he always had to insist on these things. Finding himself to require nutrients was a shock, and Alan had snapped at him then, too. "How the hell do you not realize you need food?" but actually, how the hell would Scratch know that? He's never had to eat in the Dark Place.

When he hears Zeke disappear elsewhere into the house, Scratch sits down on the couch and starts on the book, the pages being devoured quickly. He loses track of time, and then, after he finishes the book, he realizes the morning light is seeping into the room faintly.

❝Oh, fuck, did I actually stay up all night?❞ He blinks, hearing vague shuffling around in the apartment that is growing closer.

[sollumin]

Miller sat on the edge of his bed shortly after saying his partings with Elias. There was much to think about, his perceptions of the information shared here tonight. It stirred the man's mind like a storm and had him smiling more often than anticipated.

Amongst all the bad, something in Elias peaked through, a light of its own—an inspiring flicker of hope. His progress with the other man was noteworthy and encouraging, invoking a desire and potential to shift the paradigm between them. He really did want the best for him, after all.

The stiffness in his neck was a sure sign for him to turn in for the night. Zeke wouldn't be facing those same monsters tonight, but rather a nice change of pace about the man just down the hall. It would be enough to give him the sleep he so sorely needed.

With the first hint of daylight peeking in through the fabric of his curtains, a ghostly glow of morning kissing the plain white walls of his room would be sufficient to rouse the officer from his deep sleep. He didn't want it to end, at least not yet, fearing Elias' absence would herald the dreaded return of his fitful nights once more. The thought caused him to groan softly, scrunching his face before ultimately turning and rolling out of his bed and to the floor.

Zeke would take his time with his morning routine, cautious of the noises he would make to ensure that Elias would stay asleep. His talk about sleeping through rock concerts, however true, endured a chuckle from him as he entered the living room. He paused. The same light left on the evening prior was still on. The man is still sitting in the same place. Was his insomnia really that bad?

He stares, somewhat dumbfounded, choosing not to say anything immediately before shuffling off and into the kitchen to prepare a new batch of coffee,

"Good morning, Elias… I guess you didn't get much sleep last night, hey? Insomnia acting up again?"

His voice easily carried from the room he stood in, merely a half wall separating the room from the rest of the living area. Miller is cautious with his degree of questioning, unable to gauge the other's mind state from where he was.

"Is everything alright?"

[malonox]

Zeke was determined, relentless even, in his decision to drag Scratch out of his hiding. To get the bastard who's been hurting the innocent townsfolk. Alan would laugh at Scratch's face, tell him he's dug himself into a hole. He couldn't help it, his addiction came and made him see red. An itch he had to do something about, otherwise he would go just slightly to the left. Off-kilter. He'd be a sulking hurt animal with no control anymore. Wake wanted to ensure that...

So it came in obviously-- Zeke couldn't find out what Scratch's addiction was. He'll think it through, and come up with a lie. He's gotten better at it. He can do more now, all thanks to practice.

When the officer starts talking about the couch, Scratch puts on his best "I'm impressed" expression. Neat, it says. Pretending this entire ordeal is a novel concept he's never run into. Their apartment had a similar arrangement, Scratch had only been in the bedroom enough times to count it on his one hand, and even then he didn't really need sleep.

❝Thanks, I appreciate all of this. You're so kind.❞ He was gonna hurl. ❝I should probably come clean...❞ He starts the more he looks at Zeke. ❝I do have insomnia.❞ Alan did, Scratch was fine. But then what other human reason would he need? ❝So if I can't fall asleep, don't worry about it.❞ He tries to take up the reassuring role. This would work, all fine.

Scratch does take interest in the books, and walks over to investigate the shelves. He picks up one, flipping through it, seemingly at random. The title was banal but close enough to what he needed. "Switch Off and Find Calm" the front read, and Scratch started to give it some thought. Maybe.

❝Have you read all of these?❞

[sollumin]

The blond grinned with acclaim, noting the rise in his stance and the warmth in his cheeks as they bloomed with a renewed vitality. All in a day's work, the officer would reply, but this situation was hardly procedural. Most officers would have resolved to place Elias in a cell with offenders and let him loose in the morning to be someone else's problem. (A treatment akin to a caged, scared and confused animal left on the side of the highway to its fate.) Miller knew the limits of the badge, felt its strain with how far he was willing to extend himself for the other man. To protect him, maybe even from himself, if it came to it. 

"Ahh, so you're one of us after all, hm? Most people tend to have insomnia from time to time. (With how this town drinks coffee, I'm surprised anyone sleeps around here.) I Don't expect I will get much sleep tonight, either. Not unless you call tirelessly ruminating case details in a dream sounding anywhere close to a restful night's sleep. Such as it is. Shouldn't be a problem." 

Zeke drew a few steps closer to spy a better glimpse at the publication Elias held in his hand. The breathy chuckle gave it away. Switch Off and Find Calm. A local author. That book was a benison when there was no calm to be found, when he first started training and jumped at shadows. That was over six years ago. Was all that behind him now, or was he just used to it?  

"I haven't read that one in a while. It's good. It helps you find your centre in all the chaos in and around you.  Without calm, we're forever aimless and lost to the storm around us—animals to our own desires.  Come to think of it, if this keeps up, I may need to stop reading those Casey books for a while and pick it back up again. 

 Anyway. I should find my own calm, in bed, somehow. I'll leave you to it in the meantime. If you need anything else, please let me know. Otherwise, I'll see you in the morning, Elias.

I hope you like banana creme pancakes." 

[malonox]

❝Oh.❞ That is all that Scratch can manage. He did do that. Multiple return trips to Bright Falls, plenty of mutilated and murdered bodies. He almost mutters: "My bad," with a laugh, but that would only incriminate him. He forces an understanding expression on his face, akin to sympathy for the Officer. So much work and very little time to play. Scratch does wonder how long he'll stay there... But on the flip side, as long as he's in Bright Falls, he could try to stop or-- he could fall further down this rabbit hole. Murder after murder, something that was once his art. No longer a joy, especially when he had a specific purpose set by his god.

When Zeke goes to get his things, Scratch walks out to the front of the church. Oddly, relief washes over him upon exiting the building. Like the pressure of a headache was extracted from him. And the drive wasn't that bad, but having recently met with Scratch keeping his truths close to his chest... he couldn't really blabber about nothing without risk. Small talk wasn't the double's strength, even with Wake, it felt like pulling teeth.

Zeke was pleasant, polite, and eager to be kind. Easy to manipulate due to that. Scratch knew he had to play his cards right, knew he couldn't act out. Not in front of Miller. On the other hand, he did want to stop... Mostly so he could get back to his work and the writer as well... But that's insignificant now. Scratch was feeling a lot more confident away from the meeting spot.

❝Really?❞ Scratch forces out the thought of the weaponry a cop would have. Instead, focuses on the Elias act. ❝I appreciate that, thanks.❞

When they finally step into the cabin, Scratch notes, to himself, how empty it is. Not a single soul of a living creature, about as much as he had to admit to expecting-- no other chance he would've been invited in otherwise. It's got that Bright Falls homey feel to it, however, and he has to admit to it having its own charm.

Regardless, inside the living room, Scratch notices that it receives the least amount of light. No sleep for him, but it'll be a good place to hole up till he has to pretend to be a normal person.

❝I'll take the couch if that's alright?❞ He asks, to cement the idea. ❝Don't want to make the Bright Falls finest not get enough good rest and all.❞

[sollumin]

Flicking on the warm incandescent lights overhead, Zeke worked on undoing and kicking off his boots as neatly as he could before pacing further inside. No concerns for his surroundings here, nothing seemingly out of place. Just as he left it, a solitary state. A wayward toss of his jacket towards the chair, he loosened his tie somewhat with a chuckle,

"That's very thoughtful of you, and I appreciate the compliment Elias. Ah, but taking all the credit there would be too easy. Many other people are out there right now, doing their jobs while I get a few moments of rest and relaxation at home.

To be honest, it's everything I can do, not to think about work and pass on sleep for the night. Like, I'm convinced all it would take is one more pair of eyes looking out there, that little bit of extra effort. The group meetings at the church, the cinema buffs' movie nights at the Elderwood Lodge, and the BrightFalls Astrological Society all depend on solving this case, not to mention countless others who are locked in their homes and afraid for anyone who comes knocking.

It's only a matter of time before we find them and drag them out of their hiding hole. That I'm certain."

He mentally paused with a frown of contrition, realizing how fixated he had been on this case lately. He wasn't sleeping much, eating nothing but vending machine food and drinking more coffee than what was possibly considered healthy. Zeke found himself standing on the edge of a vast abyss of obsession; looking down, he knew just how far down he could fall, into the very thing that threatened to swallow him whole.

He needed to distance himself from this.

Shifting his focus on his guest once again brought a rather sleepy but content smile back to his weary features,

"Good choice with the couch- well, it's actually more than just a couch. If you find the little lever on the side of it, pull that, and it folds out into a bed. It's comfort in a pinch and much better than sleeping all curled up.

If you need more blankets, though (since it gets pretty cold throughout the night), the closet at the end of the hallway has a few heavy wool blankets that should fix just that.

There's food in the fridge, a couple of beers if you need it (water if you don't), and the bathroom is the first door on the left, in the hallway. Oh- and if you prefer a little bit of reading before bed, I have a few of those self-help books you wanted to borrow from earlier. Even if it's not exactly what you're experiencing, I hope you find something in there that helps."

[malonox]

Scratch doesn't think much of it and doesn't read into the confusion on Zeke's face. Instead, he muses briefly on what he's missing out on. Most likely, Wake returned to their apartment for the night, will fill out a report tomorrow to the Director... or well, Directors, technically. FBC's new management was a lot. Scratch halfway wonders if Dylan will be upset that Alan left behind his attack dog... will he scold him? Will it make Alan run back to get him to avoid the wrath of the Faden siblings? Scratch doubted it. Jesse would advocate for Alan and suggest he was right in making Scratch re-evaluate what he's doing out here. As Elias, he felt lost.

Hell, he is mostly just annoyed he agreed to let Wake be the one financing them both. He took his half of the pay, as Elias Zane didn't exactly want to bother going out in the daylight to sort out his banking information. Now it was a shitshow. He couldn't kill to get a room in the hotel or something nostalgic like a motel. He also didn't have money for it. Alan drove away, pissed off after yelling at him, and Scratch stood there. Too frozen and bewildered at what he felt to chase the car. Not that he'd do it that, it would be humiliating.

He looks at Zeke eventually, listening to his offer, and nods carefully in consideration. He shouldn't impose, Alan would say. Scratch didn't mind. He was the worst that could happen, anyway. One would have to be a complete moron to try to harm him in any way. Scratch hummed lightly, then elected to reply properly.

❝Thank you, Officer Miller. I really appreciate it. I'm okay with whatever. I could even sleep on the floor during a rock concert.❞ The double plays up the charm, trying to seem kind. He knew he wasn't, fuck-- even he recognized he was scum. Usually, that was something to revel in, yet now it was a heavy weight on him. Regardless, he didn't really need sleep, but a roof over his head was something he got accustomed to. He grew to enjoy a lot of things, even the writer's company. ❝But what do you mean by curfew?❞ Scratch is genuinely unaware. It was quite a day, really, so he didn't truly tune in to local news. Shit. Was it what he did?

[sollumin]

Zeke was relieved; the smile, carefully subdued with the offer, had suddenly given that away. He grinned, not ashamed of it after all the lonely years he spent in that house by himself, his neighbour visiting sometimes on the weekend to watch football on the television, drink beer and grill whatever it was he happened to have in his freezer that week. Even if Elias wasn't technically his roommate, not staying longer than it would take to find alternative lodging and security, it would promise to combat the monotony for a while.

"I can't sleep through much anymore, especially these days. Since all this started, I went from working early afternoons to straight night shifts with plenty of overtime. I can't say I enjoy trying to juggle my job with volunteering, as their schedules sometimes overlap, but I do appreciate the action. Does that sound insensitive? I don't mean it like that. It's just that, unlike the bigger cities, we don't get that type of crime here. Unexpected. I can't go into too much detail, but because most of these crimes happen at night and in a wide span of areas like the town and the forest, we have no choice but to introduce a curfew after dark. It helps us narrow down anyone that might be suspicious. As for our nightly meetings here at the church, after this week, they'll be cancelled indefinitely. Don't worry, though. The Bright Falls Sheriff's Department is managing the situation, and you should be able to sleep just fine. Ah, but my car is just outside. Let me grab my jacket and keys, and we can head out."

--

It would take fifteen minutes before Officer Miller pulled into his driveway—a relatively quiet drive filled with either elective silence or sporadic small talk. It was peaceful; he didn't hate it, but now he was happy to be home for as long as possible, hoping he wouldn't be called out again tonight. The last thing Zeke wanted was to leave Elias alone in the house for all those hours overnight. What kind of host would he be?

Shutting the car off and exiting the vehicle, Zeke then approached his door as he waited for the other to meet him there,

"Oh, and I should say this, too, before we go in: Don't worry about asking for everything during your stay. If you need anything, you're welcome to it."

[malonox]

As Miller ended the meeting, Scratch ruminated on his words. Mirror image. Our own reality is in our control. He shouldn't let up control... But Alan was stronger. Alan bent the shapes and could make things happen that even Scratch wouldn't come up with. Horror stories are all that Scratch can comprehend, and now it wasn't an appropriate time for it. He didn't want the terror. He didn't want anything to do with the Dark Place anymore. He found his greater purpose, but the damn old habits keep dragging him back in.

Zeke approaches him and Scratch looks up at him, expecting to get the books now. He felt so thrown under the bus. Having to speak. He said more than he planned. He feels exposed. He didn't enjoy being seen by anyone. It was a reserved truth now, his real self only in the comfort of those he trusted. The limited number that it was.

No. Liar.

He felt lighter. Easier, and less hurt. Relaying what happened must've done that. Zeke speaks comfortingly. Scratch feels out of place. He doesn't deserve this...

❝My, oh-- what's the right word... my partner? He got very disappointed at my addiction and kicked me out. Said I can't come home till I stop.❞ Partner was the right word. This was cooperation, a partnership. Working together. ❝He stranded me in Bright Falls today since he travels to and from a lot. I didn't know where else to go, so I thought this would be a good start. Grab the bull by its horns, right?❞ A weak chuckle, almost sounding sad, follows. ❝I don't really know what to do. He's all I've got since--❞ Okay, no! He shouldn't say that much, so he trails off. Speaking too much nowadays. His tongue has always been his greatest enemy.

A great example of that is how he ended up here. Another great one is how Alan spun them into this web. But Zeke was like a comforting presence near him and was certainly not helping with staying quiet. Troubling issues, really.

[sollumin]

Elias' explanation had yet to help much with the already present confusion. There were a lot of pieces to connect already, and what exact kind of partnership was he referring to? A business partnership? He mentioned that the other would travel a lot to and from Bright Falls. Or was it a partnership of Love? Of flesh? Elias also noted that they lived together and that he depended on the other.

To what degree did this dependence go? What was so instrumental with his addiction that his partner would decide to just up and abandon him here? And without a place to stay? Was it a drug addiction? Gambling? Whatever it was, no one deserved to be treated like that.

Miller finally resolved that it wouldn't be his place to ask; they had just met after all, and it wouldn't be appropriate to force Elias to share in more than what he was comfortable with. That suited him fine, and he was patient, content with the unknown. (At least in most social situations) Beyond understanding, Elias wasn't inherently a bad guy, just someone in a bad spot who needed someone to turn to.

"Why don't you come stay the night at my place, and we can figure out what to do in the morning? I would set you up a room at the Majestic tonight, buut.. given the current situation and the nightly curfew, I think it's just a better idea that you stay with me until then. You can either sleep on the couch, and I'll take the bed- or the reverse-I don't mind. Both are equally as comfortable, and you don't have to worry about hearing the truck noises off of the highway. Unless you prefer that kind of thing.?"

[malonox]

Scratch follows Zeke into the circle, digesting what he said. Gentle. More gentle than what he's used to even with the new arrangment with Alan. As Elias, he was merely an attached part to Alan. Go where he goes, keep him safe. In his downtime, when Alan sleeps (in another variant of the well-lit room) and when Scratch cannot enter the bedroom.-- well, he goes out. He studies how human drunks behave, and he tracks intently how people return from trips. So on, so forth. Alan calls that people-watching. Scratch laughs and shakes his head. not as fun to think of it as that. He was a huntsman. Always has been. Residents of Cauldron Lake had to be.

When Zeke wants to kick off introductions, Scratch frowns, already unsure if he really wants to learn more about these people. It's not like he'll manage to care enough to actually remember. Zeke talks about hunting, and Scratch's face falls. It's like he was in his head. He sits down on one of the chairs, trying to force that thought away. Zeke turns to him, making it worse. The thought doesn't go away-- it cements.

❝Um... Hi. I'm Elias. I... I can't think of anything.❞ He starts, the thought pestering to get out. ❝I guess that I'm a pretty good huntsman as opposed to Zeke here. I find it relaxing and artistic, too. It makes me connect with something and fills an empty gap in me.❞ He chuckles, remembering the frightened faces of his victims, then pauses realizing that might've been too much. ❝Do I have to say I'm an addict?❞ He looks at Zeke for a hint of help, but his tongue loosens in an attempt to retract. ❝I mean, I am -- why else would I be here. Besides that, I'm in the doghouse now--❞ Exact wording Wake used. ❝I don't really have where to stay...❞ He gulps, and shakes his head, feeling the writer's angry and sad stare on him all over again. When the fuck did he get these emotions? ❝Sorry. That's all.❞

Scratch directs his eyes to the people in the circle, begging for anyone to start talking before he says more. He looks down, not ashamed but aware of how to feign it. ❝Sorry.❞ He adds again, for good measure. This was all an act, he told himself. An act. He didn't really feel this.

"It's okay, Elias. You're just nervous," A bearded old biker man says, and Scratch centers his eyes on his battle vest, noting the Old Gods of Asgard patch. Memories. The Dark Place, Night Springs, back then his favorite band. More memories. The shitshow of 2023. He didn't need this. "It happens to the best of us. I hope you find a place to stay."

A middle-aged woman sitting next to him nods and then places a hand on his shoulder. Scratch has to fight an irritated expression. "It's alright, sweetheart. We're all going through something similar here. I'm barely two years sober, but I'm happier now. You'll make it through, too." She squeezes and lets go. Scratch wants to take off his leather jacket and burn it...

Scratch cast a glance at Zeke, begging for guidance and the pity party to end. He had no reason to trust Miller, but it was his best option now. Shut them up.

[sollumin]

Miller carefully considers the words Elias is willing to part with, like crucial pieces of understanding he was gradually building to nudge open a door that was intent on staying closed. Couldn't help but sense that despite his best efforts in inviting the other into the fold, he was still drowning in himself and with the words that failed to reach his lips. It was unfortunate, but Zeke had anticipated this.

"Thank you both for your support. Your progress here exemplifies what we can all hope to achieve if we come together and trust one another. As you know, addiction isn't one solitary thing; it consists of many things that invoke feelings of shame, isolation and pain.

We must look at these feelings objectively, not accept them as the realities we think they are. They are merely a mirror image, a reflection of our sufferings at this current moment.

I believe what Elias said here is a perfect example of what we can use to mitigate these feelings. He's a huntsman, an artist; he already sees the world through an abstract lens of truth and, with it, dares to create his own realities. From now on, I want us all to consider these questions: What is our true reality? Who is in control of the outcome? And Why may we choose to give our power to others in this process? It's a perfect opportunity to think this over properly throughout the week and until our next meeting, where we will be discussing this in further detail while sharing a bit of what our established realities may be. With that, be safe and have a great rest of your night. Thank you for coming."

Rising from his chair, Zeke waited for most of the group to disperse before approaching Elias once again,

"I really do appreciate you for being here; it was a big step, and you did great! I'm sorry if it was a little overwhelming, your first time. You mentioned that you were in the dog house.. what does that mean exactly? Do you need a place to sleep tonight?"

[malonox]

        Mr. Scratch felt himself grow impatient with the nerves he was experiencing now. He never had this happen before, but home was a particular place, and he didn't get to go there anymore. The human world was creating too many obstacles. He used to ramble borderline poetically-- no thanks to Alan-- about how his murders made a difference above the surface. Now, he felt sickened when he realized he risked being detained; held in a smaller and more annoying, cell.

He had no intense dislike for Zeke. It's the Bright Falls sheriff's department that really rattled him. One Breaker is not equal to another Breaker. The current management could be his downfall. So could the previous... but he liked to think he had it under control. Alan helped, even when he wasn't really helping. Scratch snapped back just in time as Miller started talking.

❝I'm-- I don't know... It's that I'm an addict. I want-- no, need to stop,❞ Scratch musters out. Not revealing too much, but just enough. ❝I don't know what would help.❞ He wanted to go back to New York City. He wanted Alan to pick him up. He wanted to be with him. This was overcomplicated. He wasn't sure how much he could say without risking being put away (bad dog).

The Herald -- no. Elias Zane. Needed to remember. Elias looked back into the room. The small light shined onto the chairs, he can cope with that. Yet, he's already dug his hole. He has to find a way to climb out of it. So he lies...

❝Could I just, listen in today? Get a feel? Maybe try a book to get me started?❞ He tries his best puppy dog look, the wet pathetic eyes Alan can easily wear. Especially when he's disappointed... Scratch doesn't allow himself to remember how he got into this predicament. He didn't think Alan would have trouble comprehending you can't tame a wild animal, but now he's dumped the training onto the animal itself.

[sollumin]

There was a moment of bewilderment that cast briefly across the young Officer's features. Elias wouldn't have to reveal much to warrant a guess that whatever he was suffering from had him by the throat. He could see it in how he fought with himself, an inner and private turmoil threatening to crest outwards.

It would be messy, but Officer Miller was used to cleaning up the mess.

All Elias needed was someone to share in this private hell of his, no strings attached, someone who would sit there and allow him to tease his sufferings out one painful word at a time. Zeke judged he could be just that instrumental piece missing in making this arduous experience a little more bearable. Elias' willingness to at least be present in the space, to sit amongst them, was enough for the time being.

Slow and steady, Miller. There was progress to be made here.

"There's nothing wrong with not knowing where to start, what works best for you, Elias. I'm sure that will change the more you're here. From what I can tell, you're lost, given instructions to a life you can't make heads or tails with. It's alright; we're all going through it to one degree or another, and no one expects you to deal with something like this alone. We shouldn't."

Zeke's attention only deviated from the other briefly to check on their current seating capacity before inviting them to walk with him back to the circle,

"Everyone, I would like to introduce you to Elias. He would like to sit in with us today, so, let's ensure he feels welcomed, OK? Now, what I like to do when we have new faces is to go around and have each member say something about themselves, kind of a way of breaking the ice. Please bear with me. I'll start- you all know me as Officer Miller in town, but here, you can call me Zeke. Uhh.. let's see.. despite carrying a firearm, rifle, that sort of thing.. I am not exceptionally skilled in hunting game—especially the smaller ones. I swear they're out there, making fun of me as we speak, Jake too, probably… "

A short chuckle gave him enough time to refocus the conversation,

"Elias.. we agreed to let you just sit in and observe, but I can't help but wonder: Is there something interesting about you that you want to share? Doesn't have to be as embarrassing as mine."

[malonox]

        At his new name being spoken, Scratch was taken aback, no pun intended. It took him a second of 'how the hell does he know when I'm not even used to it' thinking before he realized he put on a name sticker when he was granted admission. Dammit.

        He's been dancing fast and loose, lately. Worriedly even. He was in the doghouse, but at least even bad dogs got to go home. Stranded in Bright Falls. He felt... upset. He had upset Alan, which was not supposed to boomerang into upsetting him! It never did before, even when cooperation started. But Alan's patience wore thin and now Alan was in New York (probably talking to Barry and Alice) and Scratch was here. Carrying nothing but his outburst.

        The thought persisted as he saw the officer in front of him, the uniform. He'll be in deep shit if he keeps talking.

        ❝I don't think this is for me-- sorry,❞ He says, about to walk out, but then pauses. And looks at Zeke again. ❝Do you have some self-help books, though? That I could borrow?❞ Alan did leave him with no money, and that might be a good way to start. Without spilling out about how you kill people for fun and end up in jail. Later, unavoidably, in prison and with a lethal injection... And then he'll have to cause a scene and be away from home-- Alan. When did that thought become so upsetting? He was going more insane.

[sollumin]

Officer Miller could sense Elias' tension, how the longer they stood there, the more it would waft off the other. One could almost imagine that staying in the very church itself was holding a flame to his shoes. So to speak. Heck, his uniform probably wasn't helping in the matter, either. Made the most law-abiding citizens a bit skittish, less likely to interact with a figure of authority, and fearful to accidentally let some random conversation somehow incriminate them. It was ridiculous.

Most relished in the control, but Miller didn't have a taste for it, left a rather sour taste on his tongue and just made his life harder for it-- excruciatingly so whenever he needed to question folks about the current murder cases. Murder. The very thought of the mention of 'murder' scared the people of Brightfalls more than the actual act itself.

And they had every right to be scared.

Zeke chuckled breathlessly, more so to clear the air than to the reference for the request for self-help books. After all, Officer Miller wanted to help ease the other man's anxieties—an instant compacity for compassion. He wouldn't judge.

They did wonders for him too. If anything, they were a great read on his breaks. The stories were inspirational, an echo of the troubles of this place—a nice change of a darker pace from the angsty perusal of Detective Alex Casey.

"Oh! Are you a reader too?? I thought so! No problem! If you feel like you would prefer to go the self-directed path instead, we're more than happy to oblige! It's a personal mountain, but we applaud your independent spirit for taking the initiative! (Though I have to ask this for clerical reasons, Elias..) Do you know which book you want to borrow? It's none of my business, really, but I may have some recommendations based on whatever it is you're struggling with. "

[malonox]

@sollumin || pre-planned starter.

        Alan made it look so easy. Always so incredibly human and pathetic... Mr. Scratch couldn't take it-- Well, for Elias Zane, it was more acceptable. He's come to have to deal with that. He's even settled with Alan's insistence on a legitimate and human name, growing accustomed to it. Slightly... But it's still hard work to remember to respond to that.

        All that cooperating bullshit-- Scratch wouldn't have ran head first at the opportunity had he not been so whipped--Fuck, had he known it would involve renouncing his title as Herald of Darkness and the Devil... or that he had to control himself and not slaughter "innocent." Yeah, Scratch wouldn't have done any of it.

        But they're out.

        They're out, and he still can't be out in sunlight even! Slowly adjusting, but even that was too slow for his thin patience.

        However, now that he stood with hope for improvement in a goddamn church, he was second-guessing this plan. He should head out, fight himself-- literally himself-- a little more. Addicts Anonymous, really? He did think of it as an addiction these days, but how was somebody going to help him when he couldn't even lay out the facts?

        The coffee looked like shit, even for a backwaters place like Bright Falls, and the cookies looked stale. He couldn't even steal from here!

        Scratch looked over the small group of people, sighed, and turned towards the door, where he spotted a young man standing. He was just moving past him when he spoke directly at him.

[sollumin]

Officer Zeke Miller had just come off his second most lengthy shift in recent memory. He was pulling doubles now that the word was out there about bodies turning up in different parts of town: gruesome, violent and absolutely excessive—a traditional bloodbath. One could easily mistake this as the work of a bear or perhaps a diseased wolverine. Even Rusty agreed. All it took was for someone to look closer. Even through all the viscera, he could make out distinctive marks of a tool far too clean to be natural and native to a place like Bright Falls.. No, what they were dealing with was human, animalistic in their rage and a total disregard for their fellow man. Cases like this would excite any small-town cop, Zeke being no exception, but it would also create many more problems along with it. How would the Sheriff go about this, and what would they do if they found more?

Miller really did have to leave his work-at his work, switch off and focus on not so much the dirtier side of human existence but one that was reserved in hope, that there was something beyond his dealings in death and transgression. A complete contrast. This is the place where he found it. A volunteer at the local church that hosted nightly meetings for the town's addicts, Addictions Anonymous, or AA meetings, as most people sheepishly called them. He felt he could really do some good work here, and it showed.

Taking a sip of the warm, wenge-coloured liquid in his Styrofoam cup, he is distracted by something else. Someone who looked familiar somehow, and yet, Zeke couldn't be sure of it either. He couldn't recall if they had been there previously either, looking out of place and pacing to the nearest exit.

Must be a new client.

"Hey! Uh-?" He raised his voice just enough for it to carry, approaching carefully with the intent not to scare the other the rest of the way out.

"Leaving so soon?..Elias? Is that right? I'm Zeke, one of the volunteer councillors here. I don't think we've met before, but we'll be starting soon, and I bet you would feel much better if you had a seat and got to know the group. I know. It's a nerve-wracking experience to tell complete strangers your struggles, but this is a safe place. You won't be judged for anything said here."

[sollumin]

—/⁠—   ❝Don’t sweat it. David will do.❞ Mills reassures as they climb up the stairs and head down the halls of desk towards his office. Small and crowded. Luckily, most their work will not be conducted in that space. He loathed sharing with Somerset back when-- and hell, he liked Somerset by the end of it. However, squashed together as they were it would not be great. They’d just end up butting heads. David was sure. He and William didn’t get along until they finally got space, too. So really-- the small office was not ideal. Good thing David’s was next to the desk they assigned Zeke. Blank and ready to be decorated, really.

            Mills burrows his brow as he halts next to it. He just manages to motion to his door lightly seconds before Zeke speaks up.

          ❝Damn, you are a total blue flamer, aren’t you?❞ David ribs at him, knowing he was in much of a similar position when he had just started out.   ❝Just ‘Zeke’ is fine, right?❞ He asks then, wanting to be on the same page more so than actual respect. Yet, he didn’t want the younger to snap at him over disrespect either. David chuckles.

         ❝Listen, I’ll bring you up to speed, just let me get the folders.❞ David reassures, stepping into his office in a couple of strides. He picks up the stack off the desk, ignores his buzzing phone on it, however. He doesn’t need to check the caller ID, he knows who it is. Regardless, with the evidence documentation and statements in hand, he returns to Zeke’s side. Places the hefty stack of folders on the desk.

         ❝Here’s everything. I’ll guide you through it.❞ Mills drags the chair over from the nearby desk, not as empty, and sits down. A quick gesture for Zeke to do the same.

David. Just David. To almost entirely do away with formality helped the newer detective relax somewhat. Zeke liked the simplicity of it, liked that they were now on a first-name basis. He wouldn't assume they were at the point of anything but going for coffee together and discussing case theory, but it excited him all the same. He knew one person in New York now, who would probably be the most important to him moving forward. Zeke could feel his face grow in warmth regarding David's casual statement; he hit it right on the head, or so they said, and he had heard that statement before from his previous superiors. If Zeke had a flaw, he lacked the self-awareness and propensity to notice it himself. It was as natural as breathing air to him; someone gave him a task, and it was tunnel vision from there until it was finished. Hardly anything distracted him, and as a result, he often fell victim to self-neglect and sleep deprivation, the likes that paled to his student days in the academy. "I'm just eager to begin, is all. I know it's a big case, and you said you wanted to start there." Sheepishly, he gave the other detective a smile to show that he wasn't offended, not in the least. Rather he appreciated the insight and focus.Noting the rather impressively stacked pile of files David was bringing to him, Zeke wondered if they had their work cut out for them just then. Once they met the surface, Zeke slowly and carefully sat down at his desk, trying to get a feel for the chair underneath him. His own chair, a comfortable one too. The novelty was enough to make the man smug, but his focus shifted to more pressing matters. "So where do we start? We have plenty to work with, at least. I don't have anywhere else important to be, so I'm willing to go through this page by page if need be, for as long as it takes."

[sollumin]

—/⁠—   ❝Don’t sweat it. David will do.❞ Mills reassures as they climb up the stairs and head down the halls of desk towards his office. Small and crowded. Luckily, most their work will not be conducted in that space. He loathed sharing with Somerset back when-- and hell, he liked Somerset by the end of it. However, squashed together as they were it would not be great. They’d just end up butting heads. David was sure. He and William didn’t get along until they finally got space, too. So really-- the small office was not ideal. Good thing David’s was next to the desk they assigned Zeke. Blank and ready to be decorated, really.

            Mills burrows his brow as he halts next to it. He just manages to motion to his door lightly seconds before Zeke speaks up.

          ❝Damn, you are a total blue flamer, aren’t you?❞ David ribs at him, knowing he was in much of a similar position when he had just started out.   ❝Just ‘Zeke’ is fine, right?❞ He asks then, wanting to be on the same page more so than actual respect. Yet, he didn’t want the younger to snap at him over disrespect either. David chuckles.

         ❝Listen, I’ll bring you up to speed, just let me get the folders.❞ David reassures, stepping into his office in a couple of strides. He picks up the stack off the desk, ignores his buzzing phone on it, however. He doesn’t need to check the caller ID, he knows who it is. Regardless, with the evidence documentation and statements in hand, he returns to Zeke’s side. Places the hefty stack of folders on the desk.

         ❝Here’s everything. I’ll guide you through it.❞ Mills drags the chair over from the nearby desk, not as empty, and sits down. A quick gesture for Zeke to do the same.

David. Just David. To almost entirely do away with formality helped the newer detective relax somewhat. Zeke liked the simplicity of it, liked that they were now on a first-name basis. He wouldn't assume they were at the point of anything but going for coffee together and discussing case theory, but it excited him all the same. He knew one person in New York now, who would probably be the most important to him moving forward. Zeke could feel his face grow in warmth regarding David's casual statement; he hit it right on the head, or so they said, and he had heard that statement before from his previous superiors. If Zeke had a flaw, he lacked the self-awareness and propensity to notice it himself. It was as natural as breathing air to him; someone gave him a task, and it was tunnel vision from there until it was finished. Hardly anything distracted him, and as a result, he often fell victim to self-neglect and sleep deprivation, the likes that paled to his student days in the academy. "I'm just eager to begin, is all. I know it's a big case, and you said you wanted to start there." Sheepishly, he gave the other detective a smile to show that he wasn't offended, not in the least. Rather he appreciated the insight and focus.Noting the rather impressively stacked pile of files David was bringing to him, Zeke wondered if they had their work cut out for them just then. Once they met the surface, Zeke slowly and carefully sat down at his desk, trying to get a feel for the chair underneath him. His own chair, a comfortable one too. The novelty was enough to make the man smug, but his focus shifted to more pressing matters. "So where do we start? We have plenty to work with, at least. I don't have anywhere else important to be, so I'm willing to go through this page by page if need be, for as long as it takes."

[sollumin]

Mun vs Muse