fandomtownies | Caritas- Tuesday

.

Despite her better efforts, class today had put Irene in a bit of a mood. Not a bad mood, but the sort of one where she kept half-writing texts and deleting them.

So when she came into the bar tonight, she made a point to put her phone on the bar where she could look at it, and thus might not do anything rash. "How are you at mixing a martini, darling?" she asked Kitty, tilting her head. "And hi."

"Hi. Want that shaken or stirred?" she asked, because she would never pass up a good pop culture reference.

"Stirred," Irene said with a frown, because that was the right way to do it, ugh. "And plenty strong, if you please."

She poked her phone with a fingertip, and added, "You may have to take this away from me. I haven't decided yet."

"Uh oh," Kitty said, eyeing her even as she started on the drink. "What's wrong?"

"We talked about love in class today and I keep wanting to text my...ex, for lack of a better term," Irene said, making a face. "It's very stupid."

And he'd only ever replied to her once, anyway. No guarantee he'd ever do it again.

"Is this one of those cases where there's a really good reason they're your ex?" Kitty checked. That was the most important question, she thought.

"Very much so," Irene agreed with a nod. "It's immensely complicated -- he's the only person who knows where I am, for one thing. And he's a he, so there's that."

Because of course no one here could have a normal relationship, ever.

"So I probably shouldn't text him, right?" She really wanted to.

"Nope. What would you say if you did?" she asked.

"I'd ask him to dinner," Irene said immediately, then shook her head at herself. "It's a running joke. But I do miss him, and he's the only piece of home I have left, you know? Everyone else is...very much not an option, contact-wise."

She didn't want to talk to anyone else, but that was beside the point.

Kitty frowned as she slid the martini over. "Why aren't there any other options?"

Irene quirked a half-smile, sighing a little. "Promise not to freak out?" she asked, hedging a bit. "There's something I haven't told you about why I came here."

A few somethings, but why not downplay it?

"It's amazingly hard to freak me out at this point," Kitty assured her.

"I'm a former blackmailer who got mixed up with the wrong crowd and faked my death for my own protection," Irene said carefully. "Twice over, actually. Sherlock -- the ex in question -- helped me fake it the second time, and is the only person who knows I'm even alive."

[nfb from here on out, squirrels!]

"Okay, didn't see that coming," Kitty admitted, but she didn't look that freaked out. "Twice?"

"Once on my own," Irene said, a little proud of that. "Once about six months after that because my protection fell through, and I was about to be beheaded in Karachi. Sherlock got me out of there, but as far as everyone else in London knows, I was brutally murdered back in the summer of 2012 -- or just after the turn of the new year, depending on how close we were. So it's extra tough to not text him, seeing as how he's the only soul not on this island who knows my pretty little head is still attached to my pretty little neck."

"Yeah, okay, never go home," Kitty said, probably unnecessarily. "So then why is it a bad idea to text him?"

"Because it's still destructive behavior," Irene sighed. "He's not going to come here and be with me, I don't especially want him to, and he's probably not going to reply, even if I do text him." She made a face. "He's a bit of an asshole, to be honest. A life-saving, new-identity-creating asshole, but still."

Probably why she liked him.

"See, then you don't need to try and do that to yourself," Kitty reasoned.

"But it's haaaaaaaaaaard," Irene whined, dropping her chin in her hand. "Maybe if I tell him I'm in danger or something, he'll visit again."

No, Irene.

"And then when you turn out to not be in danger he has reason not to trust you next time," Kitty pointed out.

"I did try to convince him I was dead before," Irene admitted. "This isn't exactly a relationship built on trust, so much as a sort of ongoing, giant chess game." She wrinkled her nose. "I'm not really great at the whole healthy relationship thing, admittedly."

"They do take some work," Kitty said. "Be strong, Irene. You're in a new town, with a new life, and that means not texting boys sometimes."

"I don't even normally like them," she added, possibly trying to convince herself that that was another good reason not to text him.

She slanted a look at Kitty, frowning a little. "You're seriously okay with the whole...faked my death after blackmailing thing? I've been dreading telling you."

"I mean, it's not great, but it's not even close to the worst thing I've ever heard," Kitty told her.

"Well, that's something," Irene decided thoughtfully. "The blackmail was for protection, rather than money, if that helps. My profession's never been the safest, particularly considering I operate alone, you know?"

"I bet. And I kind of figured it was tied to that," Kitty admitted. Because wow could you probably get blackmail material in that field.

"But I've learned my lesson," Irene said with a tiny smile. "Quite a few lessons, actually. Almost dying for real does that to a person."

"Good girl," Kitty smiled back. "And I'm glad to hear it. Especially since none of that sounds like any fun and I like you with your head."

"Not a bit." She eyed her phone before turning it over, screen-side-down, and took a drink. "Maybe it was easier in the olden days when one only had to agonize over letters, rather than texts. I think my attention span would fare better, at least. I'd probably forget all about the person in question between correspondence."

"And the potential for embarrassment with letters was probably higher. They respond to something you said weeks ago and it doesn't apply anymore, things like that," Kitty said. "I assume, anyway. I've never been in the 'should I text the ex' situation."

"I'm usually not," Irene said, making a face. "Much more in the camp of washing my hands of things and moving on, you know? This is a bit of a tricky exception, all around."

"I can understand that," Kitty said. "And this is all from class?"

"More just that class made me think about things that I often avoid thinking about," she replied with a lift of her brows, sighing. "Sorry to turn you into my therapist, though I suppose that comes a bit with the bartender territory?"

Edited 2014-11-18 23:18 (UTC)

"Honestly, that's one of the parts of my job that I like," Kitty admitted. "I'm a good listener."

"You are," Irene agreed, her smile widening a little. "It's a hard skill to come by, and good listeners often get screwed out of their own venting time, so let me know when I can return the favor."

Edited 2014-11-18 23:25 (UTC)

"Might want to be careful there. My drama gets pretty special," Kitty warned.

"I'm a blackmailing lesbian dominatrix who's in love with a man and dead twice over," Irene replied, raising a brow. "I'm pretty hard to freak out, too. Don't worry about that."

"Huh. I think you might have me beat in the descriptives department," Kitty realized. High five, Irene!

.

Still so tired.

Caritas- Tuesday

Stage

Bar

Re: Bar

Re: Bar

Re: Bar

Re: Bar

Re: Bar

Re: Bar

Re: Bar

Re: Bar

Re: Bar

Re: Bar

Re: Bar

Re: Bar

Re: Bar

Re: Bar

Re: Bar

Re: Bar

Re: Bar

Re: Bar

Re: Bar

Re: Bar

Re: Bar

Re: Bar

Re: Bar

Re: Bar

Re: Bar

Re: Bar

Re: Bar

Re: Bar

Re: Bar

Re: Bar

Re: Bar

Re: Bar

Re: Bar

Re: Bar

Re: Bar

Re: Bar

Re: Bar

Re: Bar

Lounge

Back Room

OOC