"Criminal"
- Locked due to inactivity on Aug 4, '16 4:29pm
Thread Topic: "Criminal"
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Yeah. And where she is now.
also I'm sorry this is terrible but I need to go I'll bring this back up tomorrow if that's okay -
She knows and she's at her apartment.
It's okay, I have to go as well. -
Alright, sorry about that. I believe I understand now.
Jacob sat quietly at the table, elbows resting on the surface in another of his little shows of defiance to several people who had scolded him previously for the rude behavior. He scanned boredly through the newspaper and vaguely wondered why he was still subscribed to it. Nothing interesting ever seemed to happen. Scandals and stiffs and students giving back to their community, and this was no way to start a morning.
He set it down on the table and glared at the empty plate in front of him. He wasn't really hungry anymore, but eating would be better than doing nothing. His 12:00 appointment was still three hours away.
He sighed, standing up and shoving the chair out as far as it would go with his leg, and pulled his phone out of his pocket. There was any number of ways he could kill time if he really wanted to. -
(Screw it, we're going present tense.)
The tapping infests Crane's mind like the spinning of a spoke on a wheel. A disjointed, irregular sound. Tapping randomly, but always constantly. Tap tap. Tap. Tap tap tap. Crane pulls the arm away from his eyes, wincing as the light shines in. A shadow gives him some relief as the tapping stops; and the bird at the window spreads wings and leaves in flight. The groan that makes itself know stays only shortly, before Crane pulls himself out of bed.
Empty foils crackle under his feet as he stands tall; still distracted by sleep. Somewhere in his mind, he knows something is happening today, but he can't remember. Dust kicks up from under him as he walks, walks to the kitchen to settle his stomach, navigating past the trash and garbage of his apartment.
He's only halfway there when Crane remembers the kitchen is empty. Instead, all he find is his wallet; leather, pristine and cool, sitting on the table. Picking it up, Crane heads towards the door. It would appear he's decided to eat out today. -
Scarlett pulled out her brush and started to tame the wild beast that was her hair. Once it was under control, she looked through her closet and picked out a pair of black skinny jeans and a black and white striped shirt. Putting then on, she decided that it would be best if she ate in the cafe today, seeing as she didn't know if she even had any food in the kitchen. She headed out the door, locking it on her way.
-
(Present tense is always fun.)
The phone buzzed in his ear, and though he'd told himself many times before that he would stop with the annoying habit, Jacob found himself pacing around the room as he waited for her [Scarlett] to pick up. Or perhaps she was sleeping still, in which case he would go to voicemail and be forced to wait god only knew how long.
He sighed impatiently, running his fingers through his hair. He really didn't feel like spending this morning doing busy work. -
Buildings pass Crane by as he heads deeper into the nest-like city. They're old things, built of brick and asbestos, remaining only as a cultural flash into the time when they were built. If Crane didn't live in one of them, he'd probably join the efforts to tear them down. After all, grey and brown eventually blend into a cocktail of unforgettable smears, but a bright city sign captures the attention of all.
There are two places on Earth a man like Crane can't live without. One is a small bar built bellow ground level on the other side of town, marked only by a broken neon sign. The other is a cafe with no walls, only windows, to the point where one couldn't tell where the street and the cafe met.
Flipping open his wallet, Crane pet himself down for a cigarette, before realizing he was out. The revelation would probably hurt more if he wasn't so tired. -
As she was leaving, Scarlett felt her pocket vibrate and pulled out her phone. Staring at the screen, this became one of those times where she wished she had identification calling. She sighed and pressed the accept button, bringing the phone up to her ear. "Hello?" She asked.
((Crap I pulled a blank... what is it called when your phone tells you who is calling? I said it was identification calling but I know that's not it.)) -
(Caller ID.)
Jacon heard himself inhale when she picked up, and hoped she wouldn't have heard it, too. He stopped pacing as if to focus the attention of his entire being on this conversation.
"Hello, beautiful." he mumbled, reminding himself to open his mouth wider when he talked so he wouldn't have to keep repeating himself.
One of his assistants- Michael? Mitchel? Mitchel, that was it- opened the door, poking his head in and beginning to speak.
"Sir, I-"
Jacob wheeled on him, raising his index finger and glaring at him until his assistant fell silent. -
Very few buildings manage to combine old and new well. Too much old, and you risk limiting your audience to seventy something year olds who's dreams are long and dead. Too much new, and you attract teens fresh out of collage with too much dreams. This cafe was one of the few that managed to try and fail at both, attracting an audience solely of old men in denial and Crane, who was certainly not in denial.
A jukebox was already playing as Crane entered, one of those songs from before people realized how much they hated disco and still made disco songs. Thank god Crane had managed to survive that period with his sanity intact.
His seat was waiting for him as he sat. The clerk noticed him quickly, and hurried to take his order. Crane ordered the usual. It was like the classic, but with much more seasoning. -
((Oh. Right. Caller ID.))
Scarlett smiled when she heard the familiar voice. "Hey." She said. "What's up?" She was, as normal, quite at a loss for words. She typically was, no matter who she was talking to, where they were talkng, and what they were talking about. She mentally slapped herself for her lack of things to say. -
Jacob grinned to himself in spite of his assistant standing in the doorway. Mitchel glanced around uncomfortably before smiling back with a lip raised awkwardly. Jacob rolled his eyes, turning his back on the man.
"I am absolutely dying of boredom. Let's go out someplace together. Breakfast! We'll do breakfast. I'll come get you immediately."
Despite the fact that she hadn't necessarily agreed to come along, he had already begun thinking up the best possible place to take her. -
The lack of smoke in the room disturbed Crane, if only because his gut told him things shouldn't be so clear. Without the smell, without the taste, without the addiction, would he even have cared? Crane wasn't sure.
Flagging down the clerk, Crane asked for a smoke. The keeper of the sweet release hurried to comply, and Crane threw an extra dollar down on the counter and lit up.
"Tough case?" The clerk asked, his apparent boredom carefully concealed.
Crane shrugged, "I know I'm missing something. I've got two eye witnesses and a suspect, but nothing else. No motives, no connections, no addresses. I dunno. It just feels like there's a big, obvious piece of the puzzle I've left behind."
"Done your interviews yet?"
"No. Police are blocking me off at every turn. They want to wait for an official statement, but we both know it'll be too late by then."
The breakfast arrived with a quiet 'clink' as the porcelain hit the wooden counter. With a tired flash of a grin, Crane balanced his cigarette against the ashtray and prepared to eat. -
Scarlett smiled at the normality of the conversation. Unlocking her apartment door and heading back inside, she replied, "Okay, I'll see you when you get here." Realizing her hair had been messed up again, she reached for a ponytail holder with her left hand, since she was holding the phone with her right.
-
Jacob hung up without another word, spinning on his heel to face Mitchel, whose uncomfortable smile had melted into embarrassment and dread.
"What have I told you about knocking?"
The man was slow to answer, glancing around as if he might find that anyone else was in the room and that it wasn't him his boss was talking to.
"You're gonna knock next time, right?" he tried again, narrowing his eyes. The guy nodded frantically, stumbling over his words.
"Yes sir. Sorry sir."
Jacob rolled his eyes again, moving for the door and relishing the way Mitchel jumped. He paused, grinning meanly, and tilted his head.
"Mind if I get through?"
"It's just that I came in here to tell you something in the first place, so you might...?"
"Quit mumbling. What is it? Hurry up, I've got s--- to do."
"Sorry, sir. We received a call from one of your connections out in the Midwestern unit. They want to cut you off. They're worried their employers are catching on to them."
Jacob snorted.
"Are they still on the line?"
"No sir."
"Call them back and let them know they should be about a million times more concerned if they're caught turning on me than their own company."
Mitchel nodded weakly.
"Yessir."
JAcob pushed past him without another word. Though he was doing his best not to let that news get to him, he could already feel the irritation welling up at the back of his throat. He was very sure Scarlett would take that away, though.
He got to his car- a black Lamborghini huracan with probably less-than-necessary bulletproof glass. He'd considered hiring a driver a few times, but how lame was that? He was more than capable of driving himself around, and anyway, if he was left in a car with nothing to do, he'd probably f--- the radio up playing with the buttons.
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