evillurks | Informal visit (For Metody)

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Current Location: Rettigue Apt., Manhattan, NY

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Informal visit (For Metody)

The Shadow is hard at work coordinating things from the Rettigue apartment, today. The break from hunting out Khan's activities in his alternate's world is merely an opportunity to chase criminals in his own. Unavailable to gather forces for multiple raids and without the time to head up those operations himself, he's stuck compiling information and passing it to legal authorities through very careful channels. It's a lot of paperwork, and very tedious, but it gives him a physical rest he needs from his other activities.

When Metody arrives, he's in the most worn spot in the whole place; the center of the black plush sofa, bent over the coffee table. He regards his visitor over the rims of his reading glasses. "You've looked better. Coffee or tea?" The paperwork is shuffled neatly into a folder, out of sight.

The apartment is spacious and spartan, with sleek dark furniture. There's a grouping of the sofa and a few black armchairs around a black metal coffee table, all arranged on a vast Oriental rug. A bookshelf built into the wall opposite the sofa holds a television set that is archaic by Metody's standards, fewer books than one might expect, a sleek stereo system, and in spots of honour a card bearing Chinese calligraphy by Myra and the wrappings and knife Metody sent for Christmas. A floor to ceiling window dominates another wall, but the drapes are only open a crack. Apart from the kitchen doorway and a hall, there's little else to be seen in this room. It has quite a bit of open, empty space and the feel of somewhere that is only sporadically lived in.

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"Information gathering." The Shadow has taken part in many conversations wherein he said very little, and found them useful nonetheless. A certain Commissioner Weston used to be quite good for those.

His gaze briefly follows the thin stream of sugar, but he can find nothing there to warrant such excessive interest. "How much longer do you think it will take you to recover from..." He waves a thin hand, ring flashing. It's obvious Metody is still not quite himself.

It sparkled.

"A few days and a little makeup will cover the last traces of it. A little rest and some honest work, and I'll be good as new. I've never been the most physical of people, anyway."

Sugar often does, but so rarely is one in a frame of mind to simply sit and stare at it.

"I don't care how healthy you look, I just want to be sure you're in a coherent state of mind if you're sending me reports." If that was intended to show his sympathy for Metody's current condition, it could have been better phrased.

The Shadow takes a swallow of coffee and frowns as the words echo in his ears. "What I meant is you're not precisely an agent, and if you don't feel up to it, you need to let me know."

Metody is often in the frame of mind for detailed observation of pretty things. A degree of social acuity prevents him from indulging, usually. People always thought it was strange.

He added some milk with a serious frown, watching the clouds curl.

"I'm fine if I'm around people. On my own, my mind wanders. Or I hallucinate." He frowned again. "Or I miskeyed my PIN."

The Shadow primarily finds this behavior strange because he has not seen much of it from Metody before. "Hm. Those all sound slightly dangerous. I could always send you off to visit Ichi. I've got him holed up in an apartment here, for now."

"It was kind of neat!" Briefly, he is enthusiastic. "It was like - whatsisface, the one who had hell as a vast metropolis with a darkening sky forever swept by vast demons who arrive and depart on errands too alien and intricate for mere humans t- Blake! Blakian. Ish. But foggy and they were more like locomotives rendered in flesh and whispering lights. Which is not to imply they were demonic."

He pauses.

"Ichi?"

The Shadow gives him a long, unreadable look. There is quite a bit going on behind that gaze, but he seems disinclined to give anything of it away. His angular features might as well be carved of very weathered, cracked marble.

"The Japanese man you called a woman, and gave sake with a snake in it." He's aware Metody met him again later, when The Shadow himself was under the weather and in a particularly self-flagellating mood, but he'd rather not allude to that later evening. Having Ichi drape him in towels was embarrassing.

Metody stares right back with remarkable focus, brightly interested and not even slightly joking.

"...I didn't call him a woman. I asked if he was, after I was made uncertain by the conversation. And no one told me that sake doesn't normally come with snakes in."

The sudden attention receives the hint of a smile. "Well he took it that way. Sometimes it does... the more expensive sake can have all kinds of things in it..." Sometimes it's best not to ask how The Shadow acquires such knowledge. There is very little he is above eating or drinking, should the situation call for it.

"Oh. It wasn't an intentional offense."

"It seems odd to muck good wine up with dead animals. Me, I'd put it in the cheap crap and sell it to macho idiots."

A pause as his mind wandered off along that path of thought.

"...of course there's brie. I guess that's the same thing."

He gives a quiet chuckle, and a wheezing cough. "Some of them are supposed to be aphrodisiacs, and others are meant to... I don't know, illustrate machismo. I'd rather have coffee."

He laughs, lifting his coffee.

"'Hooray boys, a cat fell in this batch! We can sell it for double now!'"

He drinks.

The Shadow makes a faint grimace, but he's not about to refute the joke. "He was pleased by that part, anyway. I'm sure he'd remember you." The scent of chemical pollution does tend to linger in the mind, after all...

"I could bring him alcohol with something really horrible in it for him. There's this mushroom called Dead Man's Hand. 'S got woody bone-like things inside and all. Or mice. We're very big on variously preserved mice."

One eyebrow quirks, but he considers the offer with a perfectly serious expression. "Do people in your world drink that kind of thing? Alcohol with those in them, that is?"

He laughs.

"People in my world eat anything that can be eaten. In the US, there's tabboos on cats, dogs, certain kinds of snails, pregnant non-placental mammals, and some other animals during particular times of the year, but other than that, if we can catch it, we will eat it, and if we can brew it, so much the better."

"....we also have a bit of a mouse fixation, I'll admit. They're not much worth eating, really."

"...Fair enough. He'd probably like it. You've left me questioning some of the food you've PINpointed here, though." There is no malice in his tone, and he continues to look mildly bemused. Even if Metody sent him mouse stew, the chances are quite good he's eaten something worse.

"I don't much like mice, to be honest. They're all..." He gestures, the motions a bit spastic. " - crunchy. It's mostly been meat I've shot myself, or my family has. I've learned what's standard and what isn't, for the most part."

"Even in this world, standards vary from one country to another. In Asia they're willing to see a wider variety of animals as food, and I've traveled too much to be picky." He may not eat enough, but he will eat whatever is available when he's hungry.

"We have a pretty good mix of cultures in the US. Maybe that's what did it - lots of cultures to say 'this is okay to eat' plus lots of lean times. Makes you more likely to try what's available."

He props his chin on his fist, considering this.

"They try to pride themselves on that here, especially in New York, but the majority would still be distressed by what you just told me." He is not, himself, but The Shadow is extremely well-traveled and lived through two world wars, which were also lean times.

He shrugs a little. "It - that would be an odd thing to be distressed over, really. Home is so different from here that we may as well not even be the same country."

"Your world is a far parallel from mine." He nods in calm acceptance, and makes a gesture to the huge window beyond the dark drapes. "I imagine the city out there isn't quite like the one you've described, although we have our share of air pollution. Those people don't believe in spirits. Not most of them..."

"Very far. Very...divergent." He looks up, and his eyes have the same focus they do when he's looking at The Shadow's bones.

"You may as well not believe in the rain. It falls. Nothing but dictators and politicians care about belief back home. You just - you learn how to deal with the more common kind back home, unless you are the sort of helpless person who can't also manage balancing a checkbook and putting on pants every day."

That gaze always makes him slightly uncomfortable, but Metody has already seen whatever secrets his bones might hold. He is too schooled in concealing his emotions to betray any sense of unease.

The Shadow gives a mild shrug. "You're preaching to the choir. I've seen more things than most, even before I ever found the Nexus."

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