Demons in the Details|Adrienne/Victor, INACTIVE

[rocky]

"If someone broke into my house they would be mauled by my dog," Adrienne countered, and finished the whiskey in one final gulp. She shivered as the warmth of it hit her stomach, and then stretched to set the glass on a little cabinet, to the side of the couch.

"If they hadn't sprung for that pepper spray I wouldn't have had it. You could have been nursing a more intimate area with an ice pack, instead."

[JACK THE RIPPER]

He winced, still smiling. "I think I would have preferred it, still," he said. "...But don't do it."

Victor looked down into his glass, drinking the last bit, and waited for her to offer him some more. He was starting to feel better already, thanks to the drink. Maybe this wasn't such a bad idea... He ran a hand through his still-soaked hair, watching her.

[rocky]

"Don't give me a reason to."

Adrienne offered him an impish smile, and reached to collect her own empty glass again -- gesturing wordlessly with it, indicating that he ought to hand her his glass, if he wanted a refill. She took it and headed to the kitchen, and poured two fresh, generous glasses of it.

She returned to the couch and handed him his, then settled back into her corner, curling both legs up this time.

"So, Victor. What do you do?"

[JACK THE RIPPER]

Victor took a gulp before answering. "I own a bar in Manhattan," he said, leaning back casually. "It's called Jack's. I've been told it more of a restaurant that serves drinks, though."

He took another gulp. "There's a liquor and tobacco wholesaling business around the back, too. Also mine. Though my business with that has gone down dramatically since the mayor banned smoking." The last part of that sentence came out in a growl. He obviously didn't like the mayor, evidently for more than just that reason.

He refused to think about that.

[rocky]

"Really?" Ade perked up a little. So he was a businessman. That was impressive, it seemed as though he might have built it for himself, too, which was always better than inheriting it like a dynasty. She rolled her eyes at the mention of the smoking ban.

She had been a smoker, and quit before she'd made it to America (being unable to afford cigarettes made it much easier to give it up) but she still had the occasional one, just to be sociable, or if she was incredibly irritated and stressed. The ban had made it all the more difficult to have the occasional, cheeky, impulsive fag. Adrienne didn't like to feel like she was eleven years old and hiding behind the bike sheds again.

"Ugh, this ban -- it doesn't achieve anything. I'm an adult, if I want to smoke myself to death, I'm going to."

[JACK THE RIPPER]

"Right?" he said, looking rather irritated, but not at her. "He's a terrible mayor anyway. And a cheat." Victor hesitated before he said, "I used to know him, back when I was passing through Maryland..."

He took another gulp of his whiskey. "I think it's stupid how he thinks he can make the whole of New York City stop smoking publicly. As if anyone is going to enforce that."

He looked from his drink to her, smiling. It was nice to talk to someone who hated the ban as much as he did; someone besides his regular customers. "What do you do, Adrienne?" he asked pleasantly. "You said something about an article...columnist?"

[rocky]

"A cheat?" Adrienne wanted to ask what he meant, but he was quick to adjust the subject. When he mentioned her profession she smirked, supposing it was her profession that made him wary of saying more.

She nodded and shifted her weight around a little, a telling sort of squirm that betrayed some degree of discomfiture on the subject.

"Oh! I'm not a reporter, if that's -- yeah. I write a column on relationships. I work for Plush Magazine. Sometimes I cover more topical issues, like feeling safe in the city. Sorry."

She nudged his thigh with her toe, as she apologised.

[JACK THE RIPPER]

Victor smiled a little as if to say that he forgave her. Both of them were coming around a bit, it seemed. "Are you actually going to write about our little encounter?" he asked curiously. He didn't mind if she did, as long as it wasn't anything too bad.

He noticed that she'd questioned about the mayor being a cheat and so said on the side, "And, by the way, I'm convinced Plantagenet rigged his election. No one would vote for that."

[rocky]

"I will." Adrienne nodded, her lips nipping at the edge of the whiskey glass as she mused at the possibility. There was little chance the article would be unkind about Victor, he had been the victim in all of it, and there was an amusing sort of irony in that which she just couldn't ignore.

"For my douche boss, remember? I have to write something. Don't worry, I'll change your name. No one will know it's you."

She gave him a small, reassuring smile, as if to seal her word on the subject -- and then raised her eyebrow as he told her about the mayor.

"Rigged the election? How did you know him?" It wasn't a disbelieving question, Adrienne hadn't voted in the election. She wasn't even sure if she could, on her current green card. She felt rather distanced from the politics of the place, as though by virtue of her interloper status it didn't effect her.

[JACK THE RIPPER]

"Well, Jesus, he must really want you to die," Victor said. "You could have been attacked by any number of rapists or murderers. Or both."

Once she asked him about the mayor, he tensed. He shouldn't have gone into it...this could only end in disaster; he would break. "Erm, he and I were...sort of friends," Victor mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. He gulped, looking down into his whiskey. "M-my...my girlfriend knew him from somewhere. Not sure where." His words were brusque, obviously uncomfortable.

He ran a hand through his hair, hoping she wouldn't notice his slight stutter when speaking about her. He didn't want to talk about it--he couldn't. He would break. If he asked to change the subject, though, she would be suspicious. Maybe think he'd done something wrong. He refused to acknowledged that he'd done something wrong.

Sigh. He knew he should have learned not to get close to this subject, even relatively. Talking about his dead girlfriend never went well.

[rocky]

"Oh, he covered himself legally, on that front," Adrienne muttered, a little bitterly. Frank often openly displayed a callous disregard for her emotional and physical well-being, it was most punishing when other people noticed it.

She recognised the same tell-tale signs in Victor's story, and knew better than to ask outright. At least -- not straight away. Instead she homed in on one word.

"Do you have a girlfriend?"

[JACK THE RIPPER]

Victor didn't flinch, though the whole of his mind was tearing at itself. The only thing left to do was just answer her questions...they wouldn't go away. "Not anymore," he grumbled, wanting to take another drink, but not daring lest he choke on it.


"I've been killing them."

"Very funny."

"No...I'm the whore killer."

"...You can't be fucking serious."


Victor blinked and looked back into his glass--instead of whiskey there, his glass was filled with thick, chunky blood. Wincing, he looked back up at her, trying to hide his expression that was more or less fright. He had learned not to mention his hallucinations.

"Not anymore," he repeated.

[rocky]

"Oh... I'm sorry," Adrienne said, though she wasn't particularly sorry in the least. Sorry, perhaps, that he was upset, but not sorry that he was single. She didn't quite know what to make of him, though. He was so strange.

She wasn't sure whether she liked him or if she was just curious about him. She supposed the latter was the more likely, but she had shamelessly flirted for less, before.

Adrienne moved her foot again, this time to press the ball against his damp thigh, as if she was checking how dry he was. Not very.

"Are you cold?"

[JACK THE RIPPER]

In response to her apology, he just snorted and said, "No you're not." He usually wasn't this ungrateful; he'd learned that people only felt good when you accepted what they were saying. Victor had needed to harness anything he knew and drive it into manipulating his image in society.

Manipulation. It was what he did best...almost the only thing he did. He had used her so many times to manipulate people into feeling sorry for him, but had never used her name. She was...she was a secret. Only his. Forever.

That's why he'd killed her in the first place.

No. He had to stop thinking about this before he scared Adrienne.

He became aware of her foot touching him. She'd asked him a question, but he hadn't heard it. "What?"

[rocky]

"I was just wondering if you were cold," Adrienne said, and took another deep, emboldening swig of whiskey. She couldn't tell if he had missed her question because he had been preoccupied, or if it was because she had distracted him by touching his thigh.

The whiskey hit her stomach hard, and she realised she hadn't eaten for hours -- she probably shouldn't be drinking it this quickly. The telltale signs of the beginnings of tipsiness were upon her, creeping up on her slowly, so that she was taken by surprise; she was barely a kick in the arse from doing something stupid, she knew.

Adrienne's problem was that she tended to ignore the warning signs. She finished her glass anyway.