|
Post by Charlotte Jacobs on Dec 6, 2010 3:31:09 GMT -8
Weirdest breakfast EVER Charlotte decided, sipping at her tea. Though to catch up with David she would probably put up with a fair sight worse. She angled her chair slightly, in order to keep an eye on both David and Wes. It was so odd knowing the man’s name.
“Graveyards have the potential for some really fascinating shots. History has always interested me, and graveyards carry their own particular type of history,” she told him with a smile, trying to keep her enthusiasm for photography somewhat in check. She probably didn’t do very well, though. It tended to bleed into any conversation she had on the subject.
When Wes criticized her actions in the graveyard the day prior, she smirked at him amusedly.
“Oh yes. Covered this at the graveyard, didn't we?”
|
|
|
Post by David Young Henning on Dec 6, 2010 11:16:09 GMT -8
Henning no longer quite knew what to make of the situation, which was unnatural. It also made him slightly nervous, which was uncharacteristic. He couldn't really talk as candidly to Charlotte as he might have wanted to, not with Uccello around; and he couldn't interrogate Uccello about his father or the Lupan incident with Charlotte sitting there. Another man might have seen this as an opportunity to relax, let go and engage in some frivolous conversation, but while he was reasonably adept at feigning social ease, there was always this restless itch in the back of Henning's mind that kept insisting he had better things to do with his time. Maybe that would have been true if he'd been on assignment, but now, it really was just a casual meal between half-strangers and long-lost acquaintances. Well, at least the food was worth it.
The trouble was in thinking of something to say that wouldn't offend either of the people sitting at his table. They both seemed so different from each other, but despite his previous warning, Charlotte seemed to enjoy Uccello's company; if only for the pleasure of deflecting his awkward, pointed jabs in her direction. For some reason, listening to them talk only increased his annoyance. For a second he almost wished for a return to the nearly surface-level hostility of the previous few minutes, rather than this bizarre attempt at civil discourse.
"Maybe it's because what I do largely concerns the before, rather than the after, but taking photos of a gravesite doesn't seem particularly offensive compared to the act of death itself. A photo of a tombstone has a certain kind of dignity that the ones from forensics don't show."
Henning wondered briefly if he had come off as pretentious, then it occurred to him once again that he hadn't worried about sounding pretentious since high school. Was it the effect of Charlotte, or Uccello, or both? He reached for the maple syrup and noticed the clumsy movements of Uccello's fork as he cut into his pancakes.
Hmm... Right-handed.
"...Generally I try not to talk about this sort of thing while eating, but seeing that neither of you seem to have a problem with hanging out in cemeteries in your spare time, I assumed you two weren't the queasy type." Henning pointed his fork in the direction of the other table and added, quite without thinking: "That being the case, I wouldn't be caught dead having a picnic in a place like that."
|
|
|
Post by Forrest Kaysen on Dec 6, 2010 15:35:00 GMT -8
Willie lapped up the attention Tamika gave him, nestling his head on her lap with his tail thumping against the floor. he wasn't sure why she was petting him, but he certainly wasn't complaining. People seemed a little bit agitated, anyhow - what was going on here?
Kaysen, on the other hand, remained off-handed about the whole thing, downing the rest of his coffee. "Boy, I just can't believe that murder. You just don't expect that in a town like this! Who coulda done something like that to poor Anna...." For a minute, that smile of his disappeared into a mournful look as the fat man shook his head. So he DID have more than one expression - at least that much was reassuring.
His eyes wandered back over towards the argument across the room...well, that was interesting. Tempers were running high. Especially that fellow with the scars...he seemed...susceptable. Hm.
|
|
|
Post by Tamika Weir on Dec 6, 2010 17:23:02 GMT -8
"Nah, I'm not that hungry. I think I'll just sit here awhile." In truth, Tamika was a bit hungry, but she sensed that Atticus did not like Kaysen any more than she did. "I'll just grab a breakfast bar or something later." Feeling Willie put his head on her lap, she gently stroked his fur while listening to Kaysen. "So you DO have more than one expression Kaysen." While this revelation shocked Tamika, she still was not going to be trusting this guy.
Having grown slightly bored with Atticus and had enough of Kaysen's creepiness for now, Tamika decided to escape into music. Still stroking Willie, she pulled her headphones over her ears and reached in her jacket pocket for her MP3 player. She pressed a few buttons and music began to pour into her ears. Tamika was surprised to discover that the song playing was one she had never heard before.
Cyrus Jones 1810 to 1913 Made his great grandchildren believe You could live to a 103 A hundred and three is forever when you’re just a little kid So, Cyrus Jones lived forever
While listening, her eyes shut and her mind began to wander. She saw something red beneath her eyelids. Tamika wondered what it was and began to hum the song, as if trying to coax it out of her mind. Suddenly her mind showed her a forest of red trees. Red leaves gently fluttered down from the treetops and under her feet was a carpet of red leaves and red seeds. The trees had a strange beauty about them. Yet, she could sense something wrong in the air as she stood in that forest. Something about these trees also seemed vaguely familiar to her. "Where have I seen these trees before?"
Gravedigger When you dig my grave Could you make it shallow So that I can feel the rain Gravedigger
"That's right, the graveyard." These trees were exactly like those she had seen in the fenced off area. Except there were hundreds of those trees here. Maybe even thousands. Tamika could not see the end of the forest through the trees. "That graveyard was one weird place. All those people there. Atticus, Charlotte, Raincloud, and someone else."
Muriel Stonewall 1903 to 1954 She lost both of her babies in the second great war Now, you should never have to watch your only children lowered in the ground I mean you should never have to bury your own babies
The leaves then flowed by her a little faster as she remembered the last man there. "Brian." She remembered the dark rings under his eyes, his pale skin, his decayed lips."His lack of footprints." He was so strange and so...dead-like. So why did he feel significant here?
Gravedigger When you dig my grave Could you make it shallow So that I can feel the rain Gravedigger
An image of one of the shadows flashed in her vision. Startled, she backed into one of the trees and sank to the ground. "Where the hell did that come from?" Suddenly her mind noticed something it hadn't before. "Brian and the shadows seem a bit similar, now that I think about it." Both had dark eyes, pale skin, dirty clothes..."Every appearance of the undead," Tamika's mind added. "Could he and the shadows be connected?" The leaves where swirling rapidly around now, like as if a torrent of wind was blowing them, though she felt no breeze at all. With a new goal in mind, Tamika stood up. "I should--no, need to go to Brian to find answers for the shadows." Tamika peacefully listened to the rest of the song, humming the entire time, though she did not notice.
As soon as the song ended, Tamika reached up and pulled off her headphones. "I wonder what song that was? I don't remember putting it on my MP3 player." Pulling the cheap device out of her pocket, the screen was black. She hit the power button to try and wake it from the power save mode it must have fallen into. To her great shock, the device displayed not a currently playing song, but the powering on screen. "I never turned it on."
|
|
|
Post by Wes Uccello on Dec 6, 2010 19:13:31 GMT -8
Never comfortable with an extra pair of eyes on him, Wes ever-so-slightly turned in his seat to try and counter Charlotte. Ignoring her comment with another bite of pancakes, he went on to offer his two cents again.
"If you ask me, taking pictures without permission is an invasion of privacy. I wouldn't want someone invading the privacy of my loved ones because they think the grave is interesting," he said, managing not to raise his voice again. He was too distracted to feel very passionate about this. This was a stupid conversation when he was really worried about this guy across the table...
Still, making nice. For now. He drank more of his tea, getting close to finishing his breakfast.
"Hard to be the queasy type when you live with wild animals. After the first few rabbit carcasses, you acquire a pretty strong constitution." Appropriateness of mentioning rabbit carcasses over breakfast aside, Wes figured that this would be okay to say, as Charlotte had already mentioned his hawk. It wouldn't be news to the agent.
|
|
Polly
Junior Member
What's that? Oh dear, I'm afraid we're all out of pepper.
Posts: 88
|
Post by Polly on Dec 6, 2010 20:30:17 GMT -8
Polly, bringing a stack of pancakes over to the table, heard the conversation return to Anna. What a strange breakfast this was turning out to be. Realizing Tamika didn't have anything in front of her, Polly set down her plate in front of the girl while she was busy playing with some sort of device. Judging from the stunned (and possibly a little frightened) look on her face, it wasn't going well. That's technology for you, Polly thought to herself.
She cleared her throat. "You really should eat something, Miss Weir. Believe me, you're going to want to keep your strength up for when we start cleaning rooms later!" Humming, Polly went back for a plate of pancakes for herself. Hesitating, she plucked a few bacon slices from the almost-untouched platter. They might not be good for her heart, but she figured she deserved it after the way the morning had went.
She came back and sat near the three people and Willie. "So, what's going on over here? No fighting, I hope," she joked. Or at least she hoped it was a joke.
|
|
|
Post by David Young Henning on Dec 6, 2010 22:19:58 GMT -8
Henning perked up at the mention of rabbit carcasses. It was a well known profiling tenet that killing animals was only a psychological precursor to killing humans... Still, he was a little puzzled at how casually Uccello had thrown that out there. As if it was something everyone ought to be familiar with. Given what he'd deduced of Uccello's temperament, the man wasn't especially good at hiding his intentions, but the rabbit carcass comment had been made without the slightest attempt as concealment.
A inconsistency, Henning mused. It didn't fit with the guardedness of his earlier behavior towards me. It could be interpreted as bragging, Uccello trying to assert his dominance by describing his mastery of death. Or, even more telling, his dominance over other predators- Namely, the hawk. The surrogate killer. But these were attributes taken almost verbatim from the father's psyche profile, and somehow they didn't seem to match up with the one he was forming about Uccello Jr. Henning needed more data; he hoped Wes would try to contact him soon. In the meantime, nothing wrong with a little pre-probing under the guise of civility...
"I agree, I don't think I'd be able to handle a hobby as demanding as falconing. You must go through a lot of rabbits. Though, you did say 'wild animals', as in the plural... Does that mean you have more than one bird?"
Henning's plate was almost empty. He sipped his tea and wondered why the red-haired girl at the other table was looking so disturbed.
|
|
|
Post by Tamika Weir on Dec 6, 2010 23:21:27 GMT -8
Tamika blinked in surprise at the plate set on the table. Quietly, Tamika thanked Polly and bean to eat some of the pancakes. At Polly's joke, Tamika chuckled a little. "No fighting," the red head replied cheerfully, though she still looked shaken from whatever she saw on the device, "we were just discussing..." She then realized that Polly might not like hearing about the murder, remembering how Polly had reacted yesterday when conversation turned to it. "Whether the guy in the suit was the FBI agent or not. Would you happen to know anything Polly?"she quickly finished.
As she said this, Tamika felt someone's eyes on her. Glancing around, she managed to see the suit guy looking at her. "Speak of the devil...Why is he looking at me?" Then it hit her. "My face looks really shocked doesn't it?" While trying to remove some of the shock from her face, Tamika tilted her head down and focused on eating her pancakes.
"Oh and also, I've got a bit of a strange question." Tamika looked back up at Polly. She hoped that her face looked better, but she was having trouble telling. The sudden trip to...whatever that red forest was had left her mind a bit shaken and she was having trouble keeping track of her expressions. "Do you know anything about the gravekeeper, Brian?" "You helped me loads yesterday Polly. Let's see if you can do the same again."
|
|
|
Post by Atlas on Dec 7, 2010 6:03:48 GMT -8
Atlas, for the most part, had be opting to sit silently with his breakfast. Tamika had rejected his offer to grab some breakfast. "Suit yourself. I'm not your dad anyways." he thought. She instead was listening to an mp3 player and petting the dog under the table. He could faintly hear the music, but could not make out any of the words. She seemed to be close her eyes to the music though.
Kaysen, on the other hand, had taken a break from over-cheerfulness to show sorrow for Anna's death. "So, you are capable of feeling sorrow." he thought. He decided to play along. "I don't know, but I've seen plenty of mentally depraved individuals during my time. It's always a shock, but after awhile, it doesn't seem as improbable..."
Polly had joined them as well. He chuckled at her question. "Hahaha, you could say it's a bit more peaceful over here. Mr. Kaysen and I would rather enjoy our breakfast and talk about plants than fight over God-knows-what." he replied.
Tamika also asked Polly about a guy named Brian. Apparently, he was a gravekeeper. Odd, I thought that place was abandoned... he thought.
|
|
|
Post by Forrest Kaysen on Dec 9, 2010 2:47:21 GMT -8
For the moment, the attention seemed to have shifted off of him - Tamika seemed lost in his own world, Atlas was questioning Polly...it left him free to study the people of the room again. The argument seemed to have settled down, but there was still a lingering darkness there...history? Perhaps. The girl seemed rather nonplussed by the whole thing...hrm.
His attention moved over towards his table again - Brian? They were really asking about Brian?
His eyebrows shot up as his gaze slid towards Polly. She would know well that there has been no proper Gravekeeper living in Greenvale for some time...perhaps if she were feeling sharper, she would even recall that Brian was the name of the Gravekeeper who died in the massacre years ago. Either way, it was a strange thing to bring up...let alone over breakfast.
|
|
Polly
Junior Member
What's that? Oh dear, I'm afraid we're all out of pepper.
Posts: 88
|
Post by Polly on Dec 10, 2010 15:22:18 GMT -8
Polly frowned in thought at Tamika's first question. "No, I don't think so. The reservation was under a different name. I think Mr. Henning sells insurance." Not that he ever told me what he did. But I think that's what I heard during the argument. Come to think of it, that might be the reason for the argument. "Such a terrible thing to happen right here in Greenvale."
"Who's that, dear? Ryan? Oh, 'Gatekeeper' Brian? I don't think I know anyone by that name. Is he a friend of yours?" Polly took a bite of her food. "You know, there used to be a Brian around here in charge of the cemetery. But that was a long time ago. And I'm sure it has nothing to do with your young man. Why don' t you tell us a little bit about him?" she asked, interested in this person she'd apparently never met.
|
|
|
Post by Tamika Weir on Dec 10, 2010 15:49:14 GMT -8
Tamika smiled. "Thanks for clearing that up Polly." "Though that could just be a cover. Yet stop being paranoid for now and eat your pancakes."
"No, he said he was the GRAVEkeeper. I suppose he could have been lying, though. And I just met him yesterday," Tamika replied raising her voice a bit.
"Well..." Tamika had to think for a few seconds as to how to describe him. "Like a corpse?" "He was quite pale and had dark rings under his eyes. He was wearing some old dirty clothes. He was also very shy and had a very stilted way of speaking."
"By the way, you mentioned that a Brian was the gravekeeper long ago. Can you tell me about him?"
|
|
|
Post by Wes Uccello on Dec 10, 2010 18:19:14 GMT -8
Wes, of course, had meant no such display of dominance; he really just meant what he said. He was used to it, completely. That sort of thing had been around him for as long as he could remember, so it didn't occur to him that it would be something odd to say, or anything surprising to the agent. The falconer continued eating, unaware that he'd given away that much more food for though.
"Yeah, it's a pretty big commitment," he said, tone a little sour, as if it bothered him to be discussing his hobby with this man. He sensed that Henning was trying to get more information out of him, but ultimately decided that dodging the question would look a lot worse than just answering at this point.
"I do," he responded, pointedly not adding anything else before taking the last bite of his pancakes.
|
|
Polly
Junior Member
What's that? Oh dear, I'm afraid we're all out of pepper.
Posts: 88
|
Post by Polly on Dec 10, 2010 18:48:22 GMT -8
Polly was a little surprised by Tamika's description of this Brian fellow. He must be one of those Gothic people. Strange, I didn't know there were any in Greenvale, she mused to herself. And Tamika had just met the man yesterday? My goodness, these young people work fast. That just doesn't seem wise somehow.
Polly's brain caught up to her ears. "I'm sorry, did you say he was a gravekeeper? How strange! Just like that old Brian I was talking about! What a coincidence. I wonder if they're related? Old Brian the Insomniac--that's what he used to be called, you know--didn't have any children, as far as I know. But this young man of yours can't be from around here, now can he? I imagine that graveyard he takes care of must be in one of the surrounding towns? Oh, but I shouldn't pry."
Polly listened to Tamika's next question. "What was Brian the Insomniac like? Well, he kept to himself, and back then I wasn't too interested in graveyards and things like that. Of course, I've buried too many people since then not to think about them every once in a while, but that's not important." She waved a hand in punctuation. "I hear he was quiet, and he must have had trouble sleeping to get a nickname like that. No, wait, I think I remember hearing that he'd be up all night. That's probably where he got it. He lived out in this old shack out in the graveyard. It's still up there, but it's abandoned now. Oh, he's been gone...fifty years now. Just like a lot of us. You don't want to hear about old history like that." Polly blinked rapidly and looked down at her plate, looking as though she had been reminded of some painful memory.
|
|
|
Post by Tamika Weir on Dec 10, 2010 19:00:18 GMT -8
Tamika opened her mouth to ask Polly what happened fifty years ago, but changed her mind after seeing her reaction. "Maybe not the best topic for breakfast." Trying to lighten the mood a little, Tamika said cheerfully, "These pancakes are awesome Polly! I don't think you'll need my help with cooking."
Tamika's attention drifted back to Kaysen. "Might as well try to salvage this breakfast conversation somehow." "So, Forrest, I think you said you were a salesman, right? What exactly do you sell?"
|
|