Evelyn Bryant
Sat 02:48AM CST
Grant Park, at this hour of the morning, is for the most part, deserted.
Should, in fact be deserted. Except for perhaps your run-of-the-mill weirdoes and other creatures of the night that enjoy the twilight hours. Strangely, this morning the silence of the grassed park area is broken by the repeated smack of a basketball against the cement court somewhere in the depths of the park.
It’s lit rather poorly by buzzing lights positioned above the rings at either end. A figure, standing at one end, stands with practiced poise, lifting her arms and dunking the orange ball through the hoop, where it then bounces and rolls away into the shadowy area beyond the reach of the lights.
Evelyn, dressed casually in her jeans and a white tank top, walks after it slowly, her purpose of being out here this early unknown. Maybe she just needed the time to think. Or maybe she just likes this time of morning. Her sneakers barely make a sound as she stops and bends over to scoop up the ball. Rolling it in her palms and absently blowing aside escaping blond strands from her ponytail.
She’s flushed, pink sufficing her cheeks. She’s obviously been here for a while. Somewhere nearby lies her bag.
She turns and makes her way back to the court, bouncing the ball.
Sevastian
Sat 03:15AM CST
"Now, that's not what you'd expect from la prima ballerina." The commentator is, of course, a Mr. Sevastian Sturtevant. Unmistakeable, those laconic, deliberately droll tones, as if all the world and its offerings were boring to him. Arrogant and upper-class, even if his semantics and grammar could sometimes use a little help. "Basketball, how unladylike. Wait until the newspapers find out."
Unseen, however, his voice comes to her from a patch of shadow just out of reach of the nearest path lamp. And strange -- there's a raspy quality to his voice. Strained.
Evelyn Bryant
Sat 03:28AM CST
She’s in the middle of a shot. Lining it up carefully, his voice breaking the silence and causing her to miss. The ball hits the board with a dull thunk and rebounds off, bouncing and rolling into the grass. Evelyn turns, her eyes seeking his form in the dark. Her lips compress into a line. The taunt about the newspapers is not lost on her. Since that night in the club she’s been quite the minor celebrity at the Ballet. Of course, the company’s motto has always been to deny all knowledge. So according to them, Ms Bryant was never at the Excalibur Nightclub.
“There’s a lot about me that people don’t expect.”
Her voice isn’t strained, but it’s quiet. She either doesn’t hear the strain in his, or she chooses, like she often has to with him now, to ignore it.
She walks toward her ball, instead of him. Maybe she wants to maintain the distance. She bends over and scoops it up, then turns to face where his voice seemed to echo from, holding the ball against one hipbone.
“Couldn’t sleep?”
Swift Raven
Sat 03:30AM CST
::::::a cherokee man standing 6'4". He wears black jean shorts, black tanker boots , plain white shirt covered by a black leather vest. Long dark black hair almost hanging to his waist wildly. Seeming fairly calm, but with a slight bit seeming agitated as he walked :::::
Sevastian
Sat 03:35AM CST
"I believe that," he replies, laughing -- and quiet; edged.
Then, couldn't sleep: "You could say that." An overwhelmingly strong scent pours from him the closer she gets. Unpleasant. Not even human. It smells like he's waded through a septic tank, rolled in rotting corpses, and then did a dance in acid rain for good measure. The fuck...?
"--don't come any closer." She's a good ten feet away. "Do me a favor, will you?" Undergrowth rustles; his shape moves in the dark, leans against a tree. "555-4933. That's the number of my mother's chauffeur. Tell him -- I need a ride."
Swift Raven
Sat 03:40AM CST
:::::simply continuing on his walk through the area. he enjoyed more of a woodland escape recently , but he had been ofered a place to stay by Leroy and the children of gaia. Good man he was . He had to get out of that house. Walking through here was not the greatest place to be , but walking the city he had to find out every bit of the area.:::::
Evelyn Bryant
Sat 03:43AM CST
"--don't come any closer."
She blinks, pauses. The ball loosening in the slackened grip. She lets it drop to roll away, toward him. Toward that smell. Oh yes, Evelyn can certainly smell it. She has no clue what it is, but it makes her lift her hand, perhaps reflectively, to her face. She lets it drop back down as he speaks. Her expression gradually fading from its original one of amusement, to concern.
Don’t come any closer. She takes another two steps toward him. Now she can hear the strain. Now her own voice sounds tinged with the concern mirrored on her features.
“I- I have my car. I can take you. Sevastian…? Are you…are you alright?”
Sevastian
Sat 03:48AM CST
"No," instantly. Then, "I mean, yes, I'm fine, but no, thank you, I won't need a drive from you. Call my mother's driver. He's ... experienced in such matters. He--"
--breaks off; even seen as nothing more than a shadow, she can sense his sudden wariness as he looks past her in the direction of Swift Raven, still distant.
"Who's that?" low. "Do you know him?"
Swift Raven
Sat 03:50AM CST
:::::stops a moment just looking into the sky a moment and then continued to walk noticing a few people standing there. Perhaps he should walk some ways from then on his same path::::
Evelyn Bryant
Sat 03:54AM CST
She frowns. Clearly taken aback by the emphatic and instant refusal. Her eyes linger on him, shadowed and unclear, before they move to briefly focus on the figure in the distance. She turns back to face him. Shaking her golden ponytail back and forth in the negative.
“No. I don’t know him. Sevastian…” Is it real, the slight pleading quality to her voice as she lifts a hand as if to reach out for him? She curtails the gesture and her fingers fold back into her palm. “If you’re hurt, I can help you.”
How she can help doesn’t seem to be a concern.
“It’s not like I haven’t seen… with James.”
She worries her lower lip between her teeth.
Sevastian
Sat 04:01AM CST
"I said don't come any closer," he snarls. The rough edges of his voice grate on the ears, like lakebottom rock breaking through the glassy smooth surface as the tide recedes. Wounded animals bite: didn't anyone ever teach her that? "You'll attract undue attention. And get yourself dirtied too.
"I'm not hurt," he goes on, low and tense, almost a growl. "It's nothing. I don't need your fucking help, except to make one little phone call. Is that so difficult? Is that beyond your powers of comprehension? I'm not your James; I don't need you to mother me. Just call my mother's fucking driver. That's all I ask."
Swift Raven
Sat 04:05AM CST
::::over hears some screaming and his eyes fall on the pair now. A frown now on his face. Peering eyes now. he stops where he is a moment. :::::
Evelyn Bryant
Sat 04:10AM CST
Evelyn recoils, as if he’d just hit her.
Her eyes, always slightly large and doe-like, seem to instantly cloud over with his snarled words. Even at his cruelest with her, Sevastian had never spoken to her like that. As if she were truly stupid. Truly beneath him. Hurt is evident in the trembling to her lips, to the softly- spoken—
“Alright.”
--Before she turns, moving toward her bag, dumped casually at the other end of the court. She drops to her knees, reaching through her belongings. Tears are threatening behind her eyes as she finds her phone and rises with it. Still with her back toward him. She lifts it to her ear and waits for the connection. It’s picked up and she relays his message.
“Come quickly. Thank you.”
She presses her thumb to end the call, turning with the small device pressed to her chest.
“He’s on his way.”
She stays where she is now. Doesn’t come closer.
Sevastian
Sat 04:17AM CST
Even in the shadows, somehow, she can sense his hot glare, the feverish intensity of it boring into her face without ever quite seeing the hurt writ there. When at last she reaches for her phone, he closes his eyes and -- sags, really, against the tree trunk. Exhaustion is a taste on the air.
Afterwards, there is a long silence. She tells him the driver is on his way -- Sevastian merely nods, a small gesture visible or not in the night, and remains as he is.
Moments tick by. Then, deliberately or otherwise, he slides down to sit at the base of the tree trunk.
"I apologize," he says quietly, "for my rudeness."
...ratchet...
Sat 04:18AM CST
shadows. park is filled with shadows. scurry of feet, scuff boots - sturdy where all else is tattered. coat of many pockets covers neck to scrape against ground, flare about quick steps, fall again. pockets bulge here and there. treasures tucked deep. knit hat pulled down over [misshapen] ears, sullen dark gaze glitters underneath.
movements quick. animalistic. accustomed to the darkness. clinging to shadow. accompanied by constant sound.
clickclickclickclickclick
flash of silver in hand. sudden silence when voices are heard. sharp snap of head that direction. head tips - body halts. Slow, body twists, and heads that direction. wary.
Raven
Sat 04:20AM CST
::::::it seemed everything was alright , but he looked at the man now odd as he seemed to walk just a little bit closer and sniffed the air :::::::
Evelyn Bryant
Sat 04:27AM CST
Evelyn listens to the wild tempo of her heart for a moment, the edges of the cellphone pressing into her chest from her tight grip before she loosens her hold and slips it into the pocket of her jeans. She rubs her palms against the denim on either thigh. Not sure what to say. Her uncertaintly and some faint trace of injury from his words lingers in her expression, and in her voice.
“It’s alright. I didn’t mean to be…I didn’t mean to mother you. I was just… concerned.” She walks closer now, but toward her ball, that had rolled and stopped several feet before his tree. She scoops it up, anger licking at her words. “But generally speaking, yelling at people doesn’t tend to inspire their good will.”
Despite her words, she sits atop her basketball, balancing easily enough. Her dark eyes resting steady on him.
Sevastian
Sat 04:33AM CST
She can almost sense it: his tensing as she comes nearer again, and then his relaxation as he realizes it was merely the ball, and not he, that drew her attention. Never has she seen him more animalistic. Cultured, urban, urbane, slick, streetsmart, jaded Sevastian: a beast at heart, after all, in his animal tension, in his wary stare that rested palpably on her, in his flashes of animal anger --
"I wasn't trying to inspire your goodwill. I was trying to get results."
-- coming and going like desert storms. He lets his head fall back against the tree trunk. Exhales. His eyes move from her, onto Swift Raven. He asks again, as if Evelyn would know, "Who the hell is that?"
...ratchet...
Sat 04:39AM CST
clickclickclickclickclick sound muted by folds of heavy coat. peek of denim from movement, tattered t-shirt. street rat at best. don't want to know the worst.
slight bit away. three people. gaze narrows. nostrils flare. head cants as body falls to crouch. chest to knees. ass to heels. coat flaring around to settle.
Swift Raven
Sat 04:42AM CST
:::::still eyeing them. After some time the situation seeme dok , but there was another like himself here and he really didn't know what he should do at that. Instead he continued on his walking towars them , but not in thier direct path. Who's teritory was this again? he wasn't sure at this moment . he found it odd that all the packs were taking tritory in the city. This city was mostly a shit hole to some extent. Certain areas anyway. :::::
Evelyn Bryant
Sat 04:42AM CST
She stills. Amazing, how she can manage to be sitting atop a basketball. In the middle of the park. And still hold that upright carriage. The almost proud way she straightens her spine, lifts her chin. Colour stains her cheeks now, but any exhertion is long gone. It’s pure reaction now.
Her hair is resting on one shoulder. A soft golden mass whose ends slip beneath the curved neck of her shirt. She focuses on her sneakers. Her soft lips curved in what could be taken for a slight pout.
“I told you, I don’t know who he is.”
Maybe his anger, animalistic as it was, was catching. She makes a soft ‘hmm’ sound, turning her neck as if she thought she might glimpse Evangeline’s driver emerging from the darkness any moment.
Sevastian
Sat 04:46AM CST
"Well," gingerly, he shifts an arm, winces -- it's probably not visible in the dark, "get him out of here."
...ratchet...
Sat 04:51AM CST
Closer. closer to Vast rather then the others. easing up on the far side, skittering through shadow. Sound muted. silenced. then fall soft again. click. clickclick. click.
inquisitive, almost. watching.
Evelyn Bryant
Sat 04:53AM CST
She stops searching for the elusive driver and turns to regard him. Something, akin to annoyance crosses her features.
“What do you suggest I do? Flash him?”
But even as she speaks, she’s expelling a soft breath, casting him, [perhaps he doesn’t see in the dark] an expression that clearly reads her concern, and some other emotion far to confusing for her to name. She rises, picks up her ball. And moves toward Swift Raven. He’s too close to them. Too close to Sevastian.
“Hi. My friend over there is…sick. Throwing up, you know. Too much to drink. He’s a bit… wired. Doesn’t like strangers much. I think you better keep your distance.”
She gives him a brief, distracted smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes.
The lies spilling from her lips so easily. Without thought.
Swift Raven
Sat 04:56AM CST
:::::everything seemed fine so he would just walk by. He just seemed to nod at them. :::::: " Just walking. " :::::his edgeness was readily apparent but he didn't know who ran this part which was still an odd concept. ::::::::
Sevastian
Sat 04:59AM CST
Poor Evelyn. Whether or not he would've thanked her for running interference, she'll never find out -- tonight, at least. He says nothing in return to her, and after she turns away, she's realize at some point that the stench has begun to fade. No more than a lingering scent now, the next night wind scatters it completely.
As for Sevastian? Gone across the Gauntlet. Guess he was going to find his own way home.
Evelyn Bryant
Sat 05:04AM CST
Poor Evelyn indeed.
If ever there was a more confused Kinfolk when it came to her emotional attachements…
She eventually turns, finds Sevastian is simply…gone, and lets out a soft sigh.
She moves to collect her bag and make her way to her car, parked somewhere on the edges of the park.
