The Kirkmall

You meant to sleep in today, wake up about nine.  It turns out, that doesn’t work when you have kittens.  Instead, Fen decides to claw his way up onto your bed at about seven in the morning, and tries to nurse on your earlobe.  It might be cute, except he pulls your hair and has sharp little teeth and a very rough tongue.

You manage to get him off of you and settled down to get an ear scratch, hopefully to drift off again, but it seems like Atisha can’t get up on the bed herself, and starts crying pathetically.

Welcome to pet ownership.

Giving in, you get up, take them into the kitchen for their morning wet food, and try to figure out what to do with yourself.

It’s almost eight in the morning, and you have work from two to ten.  You don’t have any messages, but that’s not exactly surprising this early.  You make yourself a simple breakfast, realizing someone left some beer and a full bottle of wine in your fridge, and a bag of chips on your counter.

Hey, free stuff.  That was nice of them.

Maybe some writing?  It’s nice to have some free time to do it.  &  Let’s go out and get coffee.

Deciding that it can’t be much of a story without a coffee shop somewhere in it, you take a shower, get changed, and pack up your laptop.  Remembering how cold it was yesterday, you bundle up well, especially with damp hair.  

You take one last look around to make sure there’s no dangers to the cats, and then head on out.  The air cuts the back of your nose as you breathe it in, stepping outside, sharp and scented with frost.  The grass glitters with a soft shell of it, crunching when you step on some crossing the block and heading up.

The sky is an unrelenting gray, but soft and pearly rather than heavy.  There’s no breaks in the clouds, but there’s just a hint of watery sunlight.  The shop is unsurprisingly busy when you reach it, but most people are taking their orders and leaving.  The only people lingering at the tables are all sitting with their computers, ostensibly working.

Not unlike you, you suppose.

When you enter the warmth makes your cheeks instantly flush, fingers still cold, but face quickly heating.  You make your way to the back of the line, stepping in behind a man with an arm full of what looks like flyers.  You wait patiently, breathing in coffee and unwinding the scarf from around your neck.  

You turn your attention to the menu, relieved to see that like most places, their black coffee is cheap enough.  It gives you the caffeine you need, and enough excuse to take up one of their tables.  When things are better for your bank account, you can always make up for it.

You’re absorbed in reading the sign when a harried woman in a suit with her hands full of drinks slams into your side, setting you off balance.  You stumble, and she babbles an apology without stopping, rushing out the door without a second glance.  

Clutching at your bag protectively, you stagger back a step, only to find a hand catching your elbow long enough to keep you upright.  You regain your balance, and it instantly leaves, politely letting go of you.

You look up, into what might be the most brilliantly clear blue pair of eyes you’ve ever seen in your life.

“Are you all right?”  The man in front of you in line asks, with a thick brogue.

Yes, I am!  Thank you.

“You are very welcome.”  He says, and you share a smile.

Your eyes are naturally drawn to the pile of papers drooping over your arm, and even upside-down as they are, you’re able to make them out.  They look like flyers for a clothing drive.  He notices you looking, and offers one to you with a smile.

You take it, and look it over.  Some sort of Chantry thing.

“It’s a difficult time of year, for a lot of people.”  He tells you, both of you moving as the line heads towards the counter, “It’s going to be a bit of a rough winter.”

“It is getting cold pretty fast.”  You agree, thinking of the frost on the ground this morning, “Are there a lot of homeless people here in the city?”

“Kirkwall has always had some problems.”  He says, voice even and calm.  Between that and the accent, he’s pretty nice to listen to.  “One person without a home is too many.  The Chantry does what it can, but even a Sister only has two hands.”

I’ll hold onto this, if that’s okay with you?

“Of course.”  He says, tipping his head to you, “It is nice to have someone interested.  I beg your pardon, I’ve been rude.  Sebastian Vael.”

You take his hand briefly and make your interruption, but don’t have time for much else, because he’s at the head of the line now.  He gives you a smile and turns back to make his order, and then it’s your turn.

Like before, you just get a black coffee, and it’s little enough that the small amount of cash you have on hand takes care of it.

It’s pretty brisk, the people behind the counter are pleasant in a local coffee hipster sort of way, but this is obviously the busy time of day.  They want you moving as quickly as possible.

Once you pay you step to the side, trying not to crowd the counter.

“I could give you a few more flyers.”  Sebastian abruptly offers, taking his coffee from the counter, balancing the stack of papers as he steps back, “If you wanted, to give out, or put up somewhere.  It would be a great help, a gift of time is just as valuable as any.  If not, of course, I understand.”

You watch, slightly bemused, as he tries to tuck the papers under his arm to uncap his coffee, stepping to the side table.

I think you need more hands.  Here, hand them over.

“Thank you.”  He says, giving a faintly flustered laugh as you pull the pile of papers out from under his arm before they can fall onto the floor, “I appreciate your kindness.”

Your coffee comes up, but you just grab it for the moment, rather than try and do the dance Sebastian just did.  You wait patiently as he opens his coffee and adds cinnamon and sugar to it, capping it again before turning back to you.

“There, I believe I’m settled.”  He says, gratefully taking the stack of papers back from you.  “Thank you again.”

“It’s not a problem.”  You assure him, folding up the flyer he gave you and tucking it into a pocket of your bag, now that you can manage to do it.  “Just a second out of my day, but a big pain for you if you drop them.”

“If only more people thought that way.”  He says in his thick Starkhaven brogue, nodding to you with another warm smile.

I’ll take a few more flyers.  I work across from the mall, I’m sure I can find some places that would want one.

Gratefully he hands you a dozen or so flyers, which you tuck carefully into your laptop bag to keep them from getting rumpled.  You’re both a bit in the way of people getting their coffee together, so you say your goodbyes, and Sebastian heads out of the shop and into the street.

There’s no empty tables, unfortunately, but plenty of open seats.  Finally you settle down at the long, tall table facing the window.  It’s a little colder than the rest of the shop, but it’s plenty warm in here, and you can watch the street while you write.

It’s a nice little shop, no annoying music going to interrupt you, just lots of people at their computers drinking coffee and typing away.  You get a decent amount done in the next two hours- though you maybe make use of the shop’s wi-fi as well and do some internet browsing.

It’s ten in the morning now, your coffee’s just a small dribble in the bottom of your cup, and there’s still plenty of people here.  They don’t seem to be the kind of place that makes people uncomfortable for hanging around.

Still, you’ve been hanging out here on a two dollar cup of coffee for a while.

Let’s go for a walk around the neighborhood.

Packing up your laptop, you throw your cup in the composting trash and head out of the coffee shop.  When you leave, you realize that Sebastian and his flyers must have already been up and down this street- there’s no need for you to put up the ones you have here.

It’s barely warmed up enough to melt the frost, the air still cold enough that you need to wrap up securely.  Brisk, but walking quickly keeps you warm.

And, hey, it’s exercise.

You wander down a few blocks, past a market, a couple small offices, a dentist and a real estate agent.  Nothing too exciting, maybe a boutique here and there.  The further in this direction you go, the more commercial things are getting, eventually you come to a corner without an apartment building on it.  

You notice a few cheap looking restaurants that are probably worth remembering, and a place that’s either a dive bar or a hipster pub- you really can’t tell from here.  It might be both.

Further down the road, you see bigger buildings, what looks like a chantry, something square and brick on the left side that might be a small school, or a library.  You seem to remember, if you keep going a few blocks, there’s another grocery store, and the craft store.

What should we do?

Maybe it’s a library, we really should get a card.  Let’s go there.

At the intersection you cross the street, still keeping an eye on your surroundings in search of anything interesting.  Nothing’s jumping out at you, but as you approach the plain-looking building, you realize that it is in fact a small branch library.  That would explain the lack of school zone signs.

Turning into the drive, you head up the sidewalk, peeking into the windows as you pass.  The childrens’ section is by the windows, and it looks like its story time.  That looks like fun.  Maybe they’re looking for volunteers?

You open the door, holding it for an elderly couple before slipping in yourself, immediately surrounded by warmth and the smell of books.

Mmmh.

You take a second, breathe it in, and then head for the circular desk sitting smack dab in the middle of the entry.  It’s so small it only has two self-check scanners, and there’s two women sitting at the actual desks.

The woman you approach has a name plaque sitting in front of her.  

‘Minaeve’

She looks up, and nods very slightly as you approach.  You return the nod, with a smile.

“How can I help you?”  She asks pleasantly.

I need to get a library card.  & Does the library accept volunteers?  I’m studying library science at the university.

“I need to get a card.”  You tell her, fishing out your wallet.  “I need proof of address, right?”

“That’s right.”  She agrees with a nod, “If you have those things it won’t take any time at all.”

Luckily, you don’t clean out your bag that often, and there’s a bank statement at the bottom of it.  You did request paperless, but apparently that doesn’t stop them from sending random junk to your apartment.  She takes it, and your ID, and then leans down to pull out a form for you.

“You can just step to the side and fill it out here.”  She invites, passing you a pen with your card and envelope.

“Thank you.”  You say, beginning to deftly fill out the form- it feels like since you moved, a few times a week there’s something else that needs to be done, so you’re used to it.

All of the university paperwork took forever.

“I’m studying library science over at the university.”  You offer, as you scribble away, “Are there any volunteering opportunities?”

“You are?”  She asks, with a hint of surprise, “I don’t hear that very often.  You can check the district website, but I expect there are, especially this time of year.”

“Website.  Got it.”  You confirm, and go back to writing.

“Are you enjoying the program?”  Minaeve asks, suddenly wistful, “I miss the university, myself.  I keep telling myself I’ll go back, but there just hasn’t been a chance.”

“I enjoyed my old one.  I actually just transferred?”  You say, glancing up as you finish filling out the form, passing it over.  “But I’m looking forward to it.”

“You’ll enjoy yourself.”  She assures, fishing out a card for you from a stack, spinning in her seat to face the computer.  “The program here is wonderful.”

It doesn’t take long to set up your card, and you make sure to sign it before heading into the library proper.  It’s not terribly big, as you noticed before, but tall bookshelves make walls to block out your line of sight.

It looks like fiction is over to your left, a few people among the books.  At the end of the shelves, it looks like the romance novels have been stacked into turning racks instead of being shelved, which would make discreetly browsing them difficult.  That’s a bit mean.  

Non-fiction is off to the right, with the reference section near it.  You can faintly hear an argument from that direction, in the low tones of people trying, and failing, to be quiet.  

In the center are the standing desks with the library’s computers.

Let’s go head towards non-fiction.

Feeling curious about more than just books, you follow the faint sound of disagreement that leads you into non-fiction.  Reference is next to the shelves of biographies, and you’re naturally drawn to it.  Who wouldn’t be?  Big, old, leather-bound books.  The best kind.

This is a small library, so they don’t have anything particularly exciting, but at one of the big desks you see a dark-haired man arguing with what appears to be a…stack of books?

Er…

Just when you’re starting to worry about his sanity, another voice pipes up, and you step to the left a little.  A dwarven woman was standing behind it, apparently.  Where the man looks frustrated, she just looks cheerful, laughing to herself as he jabs a finger at a page.

“…Will make it explode!”  He finishes, as you shamelessly eavesdrop, heading for one of the shelves.

“I don’t know.  I think I could do it!”  The dwarven woman replies, laughter in her cheerful voice, “Not the exploding, well…I could do that too.  But if you don’t want it to explode, I think I could probably keep it stable.”

“Of course I don’t want it to explode!  That is the basis of this entire conversation, since you seem to have forgotten.”  The man replies, humor creeping into his exasperated voice as he turns back to the book, “Why I agreed to work on this with you…”

“It could be fun!  Where’s…that copy of the journal of materials science and engineering?”  The woman asks, leafing through a pile of periodicals on the desk.  “There was something I wanted to show you…”

“You’re going to set the house on fire.”  The man groans, closing his eyes, “I knew this was a bad idea.  Can we just check out and leave, please?”

“Okay, but…”  The woman says, still hunting around, “If it doeswork, Dorian, we’re going to have the prettiest holiday decorations on the block!”

“And if it doesn’t, Dagna, we’ll all be dead.”  He retorts, flatly.

You realize you’ve been staring at the same shelf for the last couple minutes, blinking and glancing aside.  Under the nearby desk, you think you see what the woman must be looking for, some sort of science periodical.

Sorry, I didn’t mean to overhear, but is that what you’re looking for?  &   If you’re gonna blow up the library, can you give me a heads up?  I gotta find my sunglasses.

“I would say there isn’t a chance of that happening, but one never knows with her.”  Dorian tells you, as Dagna gives a faint ‘aha’ and ducks under the desk.

“There isn’t anything here I could use to produce an explosion!”  Dagna protests from under the desk, grabbing the journal and flipping it open.

“I don’t believe that for a minute.”  Dorian says, closing one of the books in the pile next to him.

They look like pretty dense books.  Science of some sort, there’s some theoretical physics stuff in there, among others.

“Well…we’d have to find a way to grind the books, really fine?  Into dust.  There’s plenty of atmospheric oxygen…”  Dagna says musingly, flipping open the journal and leafing through it, “Then all we need would be something to start the explosion, an ignition source.  Something that sparks.  Plenty of electronics around, so…I guess it’s true!  I could blow up the library!”

“How reassuring.”  Dorian says, dryly.

You have a feeling this sort of conversation happens a lot.

And here I got into library science because I thought it was safe.

“Academia is never safe.”  Dorian informs you dryly, and then finally smiles when you grin at him, “Do you go to the university, then?  I’ve never seen you around, have I?”

“Just starting this spring.  I’m a transfer.”  You explain, and he gives a faint ‘ah’.

Whatever he might be ready to say in response is interrupted, as Dagna gives a loud exclamation, jabbing a finger at the page.  

“There, see?”  She declares, cheerfully.

Dorian leans over, and you take a peek yourself, but it’s both upside down and indecipherably scientific.  Neither of them seem to be bothered by you poking your nose in.

“Let’s just stick with the ice, shall we?  I don’t know if I’m more terrified by the idea that you might succeed, or the idea that you might fail.”  Dorian suggests at last, reaching up and pulling off his thick-framed glasses, wiping them with the sleeve of his sweater.  “Have you thought of a way to keep it from melting?”

“If we add salt to the water and boil it before freezing it, it should lower the freezing point.”  Dagna says, excitedly, quite easily distracted, “Using LED lights, on top of being programmable, will lower the temperature significantly, which hopefully means minimum melting!”

“Good, because I’m not spending three days making ice blocks for you just for them to all melt!”  He snaps, but good naturedly, lifting a wrist to check his watch after sliding his glasses back on.  “I have to work in an hour, we really should be checking out.”

You’re all ready to slip back and step away, when Dagna turns her attention to you, beaming a smile as she stacks up her books.

“So you haven’t started yet?”  She asks, and when you shake your head, continues on, “Have you taken a tour yet?  You really should, it can be really easy to get lost.  We’re on break, but I’d be happy to show you around, I’m always in the lab so I’m there anyways.”

“Even though they keep telling her to go home.”  Dorian interjects, picking up an armload of books.

Really?  Wow, that’d be amazing of you.

Somehow, you end up getting swept up with the pair of them as they head for the front of the library, Dagna chattering away with the occasional aside from Dorian.  She really is enthusiastic, easy to get pulled along by her.

By the time you’ve checked out, you’ve found out that they live just up the street, a couple blocks from you, that Dorian works at the mall, Dagna just works at the university, and that one time she melted the toaster oven.

When they leave, you exchange information with Dagna and say goodbye, watching them banter their way out and up the street.

It’s nice to know people that live nearby, especially people that go to the university.

It’s just past eleven, and it looks like you have a couple text messages waiting for you, one from Cole, and one from Carver.  What do you want to do?

Let’s head home.   If we want to go to the mall before work to put up flyers, we need to have lunch and get ready to go.

Leaving the library behind, card secured, you turn to head back up to your apartment.  Along the way you keep an eye out for where Dagna and Dorian said they live.  You think it might be two blocks down and one block over from your building.  

You text Cole when you’re not crossing the street, the message you open up to being a very serious-looking iguana perched on what you assume is Cole’s knee.  The iguana is wearing a blue and purple knit hat.  With a puff ball on top.  And ear flaps, despite it not having ears.

Okay, that’s adorable.

You chat with Cole a little while longer, and find out he’s heading in to work.  Maybe you’ll catch him before work- you certainly won’t be bumping into anyone afterwards.  That’s the thing about evening shifts, not really any time to do anything after.  Well, except tomorrow night.

You still don’t actually know what you’re going to be doing, and you have a feeling if you asked Solas, he wouldn’t tell you.

You make it home after another pleasantly brisk walk, grab your mail, and head on up to make some lunch and pack a dinner.  If you’re going to be frugal, after all, might as well be smart about it.  You spend some time with the kittens, noticing that they seem to be more comfortable wandering around outside of your bedroom.

You work at two, and it’s around noon.

We might as well head in now.  Let’s text Carver back and see if he can meet us to shop for Bethany.

You check your messages from Carver as you eat lunch.  Apparently he heard you had people over last night, and wanted to complain about his elder sib a bit.  It seems like maybe they don’t get along that well.

You text him back, checking where he’s at, and you find out he’s working.  Apparently they’re pretty busy this time of year, lots of parents dropping their kids in the arcade and going shopping.  Yuck.  Sounds like chaos.

He seems to be fine with taking his break when you get there, so you arrange to meet him at Freddy Fennic’s.

Once the kittens have been cuddled, and you make sure they have everything they need, you pack up your dinner and head back out again.

By the time you reach the mall, parking at work and then crossing the street, the holiday shoppers are starting to fill up the lot again.  You can’t imagine how bad working this weekend is, let alone next, considering the holiday starts a week from Monday here.

Crossing back, you decide to duck into the food court rather than walking around outside.  There’s a lot of muddy water in the parking lot, and you don’t want to chance wet socks all night at work.  Unfortunately, when you push through the doors and head on in, the food court is packed.

Navigating through the crowds, assaulted by smells and elbows on all sides, you fight your way through gradually.  Hopefully Carver isn’t getting impatient.

Eventually, you pop out of the crush like a cork from a bottle, onto the main thoroughfare and into the shops and holiday lights again.  

Freddy Fennic’s is down a ways, and this time you see that there’s actually a line, an impatient-looking one at that.  A birthday party, maybe?  All the kids look about the same age.

Let’s just head to the store, text Carver to meet us there.  You know what Bethany wants.

Rather than attempting to ford your way into kiddie funtime hell, you text Carver to meet you on over at Antivan Exports and turn to head that way.  It’s still a harrowing journey full of people awkwardly trying to get out of each other’s ways and being bashed by shopping bags, but at least it doesn’t come with tiny pointy elbows jabbing into your kidneys.

Bath stuff.  She wants some bath stuff, and you know they have all those fun little bath beads and scented stuff there.  Putting together a basket would work well, and they probably have baskets there, too.

It’s that kinda place.

Carver texts you back that he’ll meet you there, once he’s managed to grab something to eat on the go.  You’ve got a little time before work, so it’s not really a big deal.

Absorbed in your phone and the dance of the crowded shopping mall, you don’t realize until you’re there that the store is…uh…closed?

All the more shocking considering how busy the mall is, you stare at the heavily gated front of the shop, glancing to your left and right.  The inside of the store is dark, and there’s a laminated notice stuck to the front of the shop.

What the hell?

“If you are looking to do some shopping today, I am sorry to tell you that you have come to the wrong place.”  A somewhat familiar voice says from behind you.

Turning, phone in hand, you face down Zevran standing behind the counter of a kiosk, chin in his hands, a pair of sunglasses hiding his eyes.  He frees a hand and hooks a pinky into them, pulling them down his nose as he raises an eyebrow at you.

“We…have met, yes?  I never forget a pretty face.”

If you never forget, you should know the answer to that, shouldn’t you?

“Ah.  An excellent point.”  Zevran agrees, grin turning cocky, “As you more than meet the requirements for being unforgettable.”

“Mhmm.”  You reply with a smile, and then shake your head and laugh, “You’re good, I have to say.”

“I have always thought so.”  Zevran agrees, pushing up from the counter, “The shop is closed until they can bring in people from the other stores, likely not more than a day, it is a bad time of year to be without business.”

“What happened?”  You ask, glancing over your shoulder again.

“I ah…would not want to delve too deeply.”  Zevran says, voice surprisingly dark.  When you glance back at him, surprised, the momentary frown disappears, replaced by a casual smile, “I would not worry about it.  The store will be open again soon for all of your…shopping needs.”

Your phone buzzes, and you glance down at it briefly.  Looks like Carver’s on his way.

Your friend Leliana that worked at the store…is she all right?

“That rather depends on who you ask, I think.”  Zevran says, evading the question rather obviously.  “It is, however, kind of you to ask.  I cannot say much more than that.”

Hmm.  That’s a bit odd of an answer.  Curiously, you rev yourself up for another attempt at questioning, but are interrupted by the sound of your name being called.  Half turning, you lift a hand to Carver.

“The shop’s closed.”  You tell him as he approaches, hair a mess, expression a bit harried.  You see out of the corner of your vision, Zevran turning away to another side of the counter.

“What?”  Carver asks, expression immediately turning dark, “You have got to be…what the hell are we going to do?”

“Relax.”  You assure, turning your attention to your phone, finding the list, “We’ll just move to the next thing on the list, um…how do you feel about buying her clothes?”

“No way.”  Carver denies instantly, shaking his head.

“Oookay…then how about…”  You say, scrolling down the list, “We can get her a boxed set of that show she’s been watching?”

“It’s cheaper to buy digital copies.”  Carver denies.

You close your eyes and wish for patience.

Okay, fine.  Where do you want to go?

“I asked you be…”  Carver says, frowning, and then sighs and runs his hand through his hair, stopping himself, “Right, sorry, I asked for your help.”

“He gets it.”  You joke, and then smile when he rolls his eyes, “No, but seriously, where do you want to go?”

“I really don’t know.”  He confesses, following you as you head down to the intersection, weaving through the crowd.

“Well, okay.  I have a list, but she is your sister.  Your twin sister.”  You say, wracking your brain, “So you can’t do fashion, or what have you, but you do know her.  Maybe we just have to find something that’s you…for her.  Is there anything she’s been into lately?”

“I don’t see her nearly enough lately.”  He grouses, rubbing his hand through his hair again, tousling it, “We always seem to be opposite shifts, working extra right now, and university’s starting again soon.”

You take a second to think about it as you both head towards the large hulking store at the very end of the thoroughfare.  C.J. Theirin’s isn’t nearly as fancy as Valmont, but it’s still a perfectly nice department store.  They’re not strictly clothes and sundries, either, they’ve got housewares and appliances and everything.

“So…get something that will help you two spend time together?”  You suggest, glancing over as you both pass the record shop.

“What, like take her fishing?  To a ball game?”  Carver asks dubiously, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“Or something you might both like.”  You point out, and this time his noise is less annoyed, and more thoughtful.

Let’s see what’s going on at the theaters downtown?  You know how much she loves that stuff.  There might be concerts, too.

“Like a musical?”  Carver asks, only sounding a little dismayed.

“You say that like you know there’s one you want to go to.”  You tease, and at his frown, grin, “Yep, I thought so.  But…oh, I guess it might be out of your budget?”

You both pause at the corner of the intersection before the department store, outside the shiny chrome and red Templar Wireless.  While you wait, you glance over his shoulder at the fountain, glittering lights hanging above it.  It looks really pretty, and the roar of the water is more soothing than the constant noise of the crowd.  Carver shifts restlessly, thinking, and then finally sighs and shrugs.

“It’s more than I wanted to spend.”  He says, and then shakes his head,  “But it’s for Bethany, and I owe her for some pretty bad presents.”

“Maybe your family could help?”  You suggest, “Or at least buy a restaurant gift certificate or something, so she can use both presents together?”

“Maybe…”  He says, lifting his shoulders, “Maybe not.  I’m sorry, I dragged you out here and made a complete mess of it.  This is how I ended up here in the first place.”

Hey, at least you figured something out, right?  Time not wasted.

“I guess that’s true…”  Carver says, and then smiles wryly, “You’re not as annoying as I thought you were.”

“Annoying!”  You protest, shoving his shoulder as he starts laughing at you, “Oh, I see how it is, I come and try to help you, and you treat me like crap.  Well, see if I help you again!”

Rocking back on a foot, Carver grins at you, laughter tapering off.

“Well, it’s not a total loss, now I know what to get her for her birthday.”  You decide, closing the list at last and tucking away the phone.

“What are you gonna get me?”  Carver asks, and then glances over your shoulder, “The people in the store are eyeing us, probably gonna shoo us off.”

You push off of the wall, and you both start wandering back the way you came, passing by the fountain in the intersection again.

“I’m not going to get you anything.”  You say, teasingly, “Because I’m annoying.  Who the heck has their birthday that close to a holiday, anyways?  You should find someone to complain to.”

“Tell me about it.”  Carver agrees, glancing down at his watch, “Hey, I should get back to work.”

“You seriously only allotted a half hour to this?”  You ask him, dubiously, “What, did you think I’m a wizard or something?”

“I was just going to give you some cash and ask you to do it.”  He admits, and then grins and flinches as you gape at him.

“You ass!”  You declare, fighting back a smile, “That’s it, get out of my sight!”

“You’re not even going to walk me back?”  He asks with pretend offense. 

Yes I will, but only so you don’t buy Bethany something hideous on the way back.

You walk Carver back to his work, picking on each other the whole way.  Okay, maybe he’s not so bad.  He does like to complain, but the more you get to know him, the more you realize that underneath it he’s actually pretty fun.  Luckily he’s not going in through the front door, you actually both go out the side entrance next to Freddy Fennic’s.  There’s an employee door around the back.

You can tell it’s the employee entrance, because the concrete around it is littered with cigarette butts.

After saying goodbye, you check the time.  Not enough of it to do anything else, not without risking being late for work.  Maybe you’re not the most punctual person alive, but you do try to take work seriously.

So, you leave the crowded mall behind, starting your trek across to work.

Desire’s Dungeon has a couple customers, people idly browsing when you push in through the front door.  Sera’s at the counter, chin on her hand, but she brightens from her scowl when you enter.

“There you are!  Wonderin’ when you’d get here.”  She says.

You pause, check your phone again, and then glance back up at her.

“I’m early.”  You reply, and she scoffs, “Did I miss something?”

“No!  I got to tell you something!”  She replies, following after you as you head for the back of the shop, “I tried to talk to some people today, yeah?  Get ahold of that Valmont person.”

“Did you?”  You ask curiously, pulling your dinner out of your bag.

“No.  Got the run around.  Finally found her secretary, and he hung up on me!  Wouldn’t even take a friggin’ message!”  Sera grouses, heavy boots clomping.

“Okay, well…”  You pass her the door as you pull it open, barely getting a glance from Miss Kitty, who’s across the room at her desk doing her nails, “Do we have any other way to get ahold of her?”

“I emailed, but nothin’.”  Sera says, leaning against the door to hold it open, folding her arms, “What about that weirdo?”

“What weirdo?”  You ask, wandering over to kneel down, opening the mini fridge, “You mean that guy we saw at the gallery?”

“Yeah.  Knows people, don’t he?  People you been talkin’ to?”  Sera said, a little bit provokingly, “An’ he knew a lot about Fen’harel, didn’t he?  Maybe he knows somethin’.”

I guess I could, but do you really think that’s a lead?

“It’s all we got, unless you know a way to get into Halamshiral.”  Sera says, and then squints at the blank look you give her, “Halamshiral?”

“Er…nope, sorry.”  You confess, closing the fridge and rising, trying to rack your brain, “Wait, is that the big Satinalia party thing?”

“It’s where they hold th’party, yeah.”  Sera says, scoffing a little, “Big Valmont thing, innit?“

“It’s a…charity thing, right?”  You ask, and then glance at Miss Kitty, “Can I clock in early?”

“Only if you work.”  Kitty gravels idly, blowing on her nails.

“Yes ma’am.”  You say, turning to the time clock after hanging up your outerwear and bag, “I’ll organize up the DVDs.”

“By genre, not alphabetical!”  She reminds you, and you sigh and follow after Sera.

The genres don’t even make any sense.  You could do a much better job of organizing if she’d just let you!

“Big party would be a good chance t’get all the stuff we need.  They stay there an’ everything, it’s like a big old castle.”  Sera tells you, trailing after you as you cross the floor.

“Yeah, okay, let’s find a way to go to the fancy party people pay tens of thousands of dollars to get to, and do some breaking an entering.” You say, deadpan.

“Well, you don’t gotta be an arse, I was just sayin’.”  Sera sighs, “Fuck it, all dead ends, ain’t it?”

Sorry, I was just teasing.  I know this is hard.  Let’s just try to think of something…smaller?

“Smaller.”  Sera agrees, but grudgingly, heading back to the counter as you move to the DVD racks.

“I’ll ask Solas.”  You say, trying not to sigh over what a mess the racks are.

Seriously, people act like this place is a trash can!  Okay, so maybe a porn shop isn’t exactly high end retail, but they could try to be a little respectful.  You start organizing the racks, stacking cases in the crook of your arm.

“Gotta keep making a fuss.”  Sera decides, slapping both hands down on the counter, “That’s the thing.  Keep making a fuss till someone says somethin’.  You stay quiet and people forget.”

You remember your thoughts from yesterday, how worried you were that she’d find out nobody cared any more.  Maybe you underestimated Sera.

“What could you do?”  You ask, putting the copy of Vicky does Val Royeaux back in its spot.  “More internet posts?”

“Nah.  Bigger.”  Sera says, suddenly sounding inspired, voice rising in pitch and volume, “Like…like Fen’harel big.  Paint the walls big.”

I don’t know, Sera…isn’t that dangerous?

It’s a bit scary, the whole idea of randomly spray painting walls just to try and…what?  Call out a street artist no one’s heard from in years?  Never mind that it might work, what if you get caught?

Police probably don’t care if you were ‘just helping’.

“Yeah, but…”  Sera starts, still excitedly.  There’s a pause, and you watch her expression change, and she visibly deflates, “Yeah.  You’re right.”

“Sorry.”  You apologize, lifting a shoulder, “I just…it soundsreally exciting, but life’s not really like that, is it?”

“Nah.”  She agrees, sounding less dejected than before, “Just wish it were, that’s all.”

“Yeah.”  You agree, turning back to sort a handful of videos.  “Hey, but I’ll ask Solas for you, okay?”

“Sooner would be better ‘en later.”  Sera said, voice returning to normal, “You see him much?”

You have a feeling she’s digging.

Now and again.  Like I said, he’s interesting.

“Right”  Sera says dubiously, and then breathes out heavily through her nose, “Well, whatever.  Just let him know.  Hey, I’m gonna count down, you finish those up?”

“Sure.”  You agree, glancing towards the door as it chimes.

It’s Tor, big and tired and uninterested-looking, as always.  He’s practically the signal for morning shift turning into evening, and he never actually looks awake. Massive hoop earrings swinging, he lurches for the office door, Sera following after with her drawer.

You organize the last couple DVDs, then head for the counter to wait for Miss Kitty.

Sera hangs around for a little after she clocks out, chatting, but things start to pick up and she makes a break for it.  You don’t blame her.  It’s about as busy as a regular Friday night, from what you know, which means surprisingly so.  Before you started you figured your clientele would be the occasional discreet creep, but nope!

All sorts of people come by, this time of year especially.  Even some women by themselves.  You help them out as best you can, even learn some things.  You wouldn’t exactly call this place woman-friendly, the porn selection is abysmal, but at least women feel comfortable coming here, which is nice.

Around seven Tor finally does something besides looking big and tired, and shoos you towards the back office to eat your dinner.  You’re not going to have time for much after work besides a shower and some kitten time, so if you want to do anything more, you’ll have to do it now.

Text Solas

Steeling yourself, you continue eating your rice and chicken and pull out your phone.  You can do this.  It’s to help Sera, after all, and you did kinda stomp all over her enthusiasm there.  Granted, you don’t want her to go to jail, so…

Eating with one hand, texting with the other, you swallow your nervousness and ask for Solas’ help.

Gratefully, you leave it at that.  You’ll see him tomorrow, after all, and there’s no need to be a pest.  Him helping at all is more than you expected.  The side-track interrogation is probably what you should have expected, but a break’s only so long.

If he wants to do that, he can do it tomorrow.

The rest of your night goes smoothly, and you’re out the door by a quarter after ten.  It would be ten, but Tor’s under orders to walk everyone to their car, so you have to wait for him to finish up with the safe.

You’re home a bit before eleven- hard not to worry about the roads, even with new tires, so you drive a little slower than usual.  Immediately upon getting home it’s cat time.  For some reason they’ve decided it’s Crazy O’clock, and they’re thundering awkwardly around the apartment and attacking each other (and your feet).

It’s late, but like yesterday, you don’t work until the afternoon.  You could stay up for a while with the little loons, maybe watch something or poke around on the internet, and then sleep in come morning.

END OF DAY 5