#iii. interactions.

[gideonbirley]

      location: aslı’s apartment.       who: @aslikaya​

-

      ------IT HAD TAKEN all of his strength to leave his home for this. it started with piecing himself together for the day, reminding himself that one foot need be placed before the other if any progress would be made. he’d looked himself in a mirror for the first time since the incident ---REALLY LOOKED. examined fresh pink skin, let his fingers trace the lines where it started down to where it disappeared against the soft muss of scattered chest hair. it felt like hours passed staring, feeling, accepting this was a part of who he was now ---before he could collect himself enough to get showered and dressed. the last moments of being the real gideon before he slipped the mask on. before he hid away the little private parts of himself most of the world didn’t get to see, that he’d been scolded as a child for owning as if he wasn’t a human ... just a piece, a part of a machine.

      when he locked the door to his home behind him he sealed those soft pieces of himself away and swallowed the stone in his throat. today would not be an easy day. but steps carried him to a car, which brought him across town to the apartment of the one person in new york he should have been terrified to meet. NO, THAT WASN’T RIGHT. aslı hadn’t done anything to him ---not really. it had been the moon, the change, the loss of self into something he knew werewolves had little to no control over. he didn’t blame her ... he needed her to know that. still his hands shook slightly as he balled fingers into a fist, knocked softly but sternly against her door. would she be repulsed by him, now? would she slam the door in his face? would there be no chance at offering explanations or seeking answers? he wore each question like a weight on his shoulders, invisible and pressing him down to earth.

[jessebeaufort]

      location: imogen’s home.       who: @imogenoriley​

-

      ------TWO HUNDRED AND fifty years was a long time to learn the nature of a person, specifically a sibling. more specifically than that, the one sibling jesse really and emphatically had given more than a quarter of a shit about in the past decade. he worried about her. he’d never voice it aloud. but habits were established in their many years alive together, and though the cellphone was merely an infant compared to the lifeline of leilana and jesse beaufort, he knew that if he texted her she answered.

      he’d texted.

            she hadn’t answered.

      it had been more than enough time to. her home was empty - knocks, rapidly rung doorbells, entering without permission had yielded no response whatsoever. so now he was maybe a little worried, but mostly he was FURIOUS. the next logical step was the o’riley’s and all of their nosiness in leilana’s life. specifically one o’riley with whom jesse had less than zero interest in entertaining presently. PERHAPS IT WAS THE STALE SCENT OF ALCOHOL THAT ALWAYS LINGERED ON HIM, or the lingering effects of whatever else he had taken that made jesse’s nose wrinkle at the thought. point was: torin o’riley had no fucking business sniffing around jesse’s sister, and that was who he’d blame first for her lack of a response. but to circumvent needing to actually speak to torin o’riley ...

      three sharp knocks announced his presence at the door of a sister instead. imogen, whom he’d met perhaps once or twice but remembered well-enough. he’d rather deal with someone just as prickly as he was than someone not mentally present. oh, how sorry for yourself you are, aren’t you? 

[baslade]

      location: o’riley tavern, st. patrick’s day.       who: @blackbourned​       when: before the plot drop transitioning to after the plot drop.

      ------HE SHOULD NOT have been surprised by her presence, in truth. time spent floating in and out of new york over his many seasoned years had information pouring out of the city like fresh blood from a grievous wound. her name was attached to one of the private investigation businesses ( what little rats those people were ) and she still kept her practiced magic out of circles. he glimpsed her from afar often, but never found it in him to approach. THERE HAD NEVER BEEN A REASON TO. explanations were sloppy, at the end of the day he had no desire to be reminded of his heart as it beat so obviously against his ribs. but now he didn’t have a reason to disappear. there was no reason to avoid her.

      clued into her drink from the bartender ( simply by asking, really ) he collected another round for himself and the witch and weaved like a cat through their owner’s legs to her. his expression was the practiced blank it always was when he stopped, though he admired he as he came to approach: flawless fair skin, soft dark hair, wide brown eyes, gentle features, the admirable slope of her neck ... and offered her liquor of choice out to her like a peace treaty. the  only war begun between them was the one he’d forged twenty years prior, silently.

      “ for you, ms. blackbourne. you look lovely. ”

[gideonbirley]

      location: warren distillery.       when: some time after 7pm.       who: open. @duskstarts​

      ------“ I REMEMBER HEARING once that the best place to go during a zombie apocalypse is a costco ... because zombies don’t have memberships. ” drink in hand gideon moved alone the outskirts of the crowd ( he’d been to more than a handful of the events here and he would never say no to their cognac ), more than happy to pull the ear of his company with nonsense. “ but i think it’s ridiculous since ... zombies don’t care about memberships. they go wherever they want. ” and of course it was difficult to imagine a zombie stopping at the door because they didn’t have a club card on their person. the dejected shuffling lingering in the forefront of his mind pulled his lips into a grin before he took a sip of his drink.

      the truth of it was, he was here on business. it didn’t hurt to enjoy himself a little, take a moment to wait for the bar back he wanted to speak with to have a break or more than a second away from the crowd, before he could continue on with his case. so for now --- “ personally, zombies terrify me. but that’s childhood trauma. ”

[gideonbirley]

      location: met gala after party.       who: @aslikaya​       when: after the speech.

      ------HE’D SPENT MORE time than he’d like to admit rubbing elbow after giving the mandatory niceties to the crowd. it was the first time he’d been in front of so many people, for something so serious, since the incident. time, practice, patience had allowed him to barely remember the mark was there - until the occasional word was mentioned ... those condescending comments that came out sugary and sincere unless you knew how to decipher them. GIDEON KNEW. and he offered the same condescension back in thanks. weaving through the crowd he’d lost himself with the chit chat, greeting friendly faces, fetching himself something else to drink to calm his nerves just a little - even if he was nowhere near tipsy or even slightly buzzing.

      “ you look absolutely gorgeous. ” the words came out before he could think to stop them, attention and gaze falling onto aslı simultaneously. she she stood out amidst the crowd of fancy dressed and fitted tuxedos, but perhaps his eye was trained to her after the time they’d spent increasingly together. his brows had knitted themselves, higher on his face than usual, and it took a moment for gideon to collect himself back to pleasant neutrality. “ could i bother you to dance, maybe? ”

[gideonbirley]

iMessage: Noa

Gideon: I know you saw the invitation to the Met Gala.

Gideon: Since everyone in New York has seen it, basically.

Gideon: I am so pleased to inform you that you will be attending with me. Pick something nice. I'm wearing blue.

Gideon: Love you.~

[photografear]

Tags

[jessebeaufort]

      location: evren’s place of employment - hospital.       who: @ofevrenx​

-

      ------IN HIS MANY years on this planet jesse had quickly learned the importance of connections. he’d weaved in and out of the city a fair few times since leilana had established herself as the presiding council member of the beaufort family ( something he was endlessly thankful he would never have to do ), sticking his fingers in all of the right honey pots to preserve his way of life. though the passage of time rotted some of those tendrils away, he was always quick to re-up them then need be ... and the procurement of medical equipment for the blood he obviously needed to survive was one of the more important connections.

      every so often he stopped by the hospital and exchanged money for a good chunk of supplies. it seemed to work - the hospital never asked questions about where their inventory went because it seemed to replace itself a day later, as if it had been simply misplaced. it was why he was here now, to meet with the doctor he had that shady deal with, though so far they were a no-show and jesse was never known for his patience. so he caught the attention of the nurse behind a computer at her station, where he stood out like a sore thumb amidst the sea of scrubs and lab coats. “ excuse me, has doctor grant been around recently? he and i have an appointment. ”