Dinner with a Werewolf

[IamLEAM1983]

"Really?" asked the Clank, eyebrow raised, as he navigated the streets. "No chest-heaving bursts of exhilaration, no gleeful jolts of adrenaline, no moments where some obliviously stupid criminal's web of lies sits in the palm of your hand, as clear as day and entirely yours to play with?"

He shrugged lightly. "Protect and Serve. Pardon my frankness, but you make it sound so clerical. I've seen you fight; there's clearly more to this than duty. I mean, where would I be if I'd strictly adhered to God, Queen and Country?"

Still, that made him think. "I should clarify - my gallivanting days occurred after I spent several decades wondering by which grace India had not felled me with one of its fevers or man-eating tigers. When the Thugee were not launching curses at us with Kali's blessings, that is."

[TennyoCeres84]

Crystal scoffed. Heh, sorry, Archie. When SuReCA was still the order of the day, werewolf cops had to use their abilities as a last resort. When I was promoted to Deputy Chief, I was stuck with a desk job, reading reports from officers, making sure everything was in order, reporting to Ethan along with Feargus and Seamus... Besides, most people aren't interested in hearing what goes on in my head unless it's the therapist for the police department."

She rested her chin against her fist thoughtfully and looked to him, smirking. "If you want to know, it's like feeling release of frustrations. When I was tearing into those Abominations? My senses were on fire, the adrenaline pumping... I was defending my territory, but I was ripping into those things for attacking my city, literally and metaphorically," she stated.

[IamLEAM1983]

"Oh, that was only half of the good stuff, my dear," he replied, clearly enjoying her smirk of avowed pleasure. "You've worked the beat, as they say, before reaching the lofty and soporific heights of high-level operations management... I trust there's something of a sleuth behind that brow of yours; someone who likes to see pieces fall into place."

A short moment of silence. "An example, if I may. I suspect you've at least glanced at Gregory Rendell's inmate record? He conjoins the things I like and some of what you like with a terrible flaw. Self-interest. He spins webs for a living and I've spent all of my time on this green Earth unraveling the works of other spiders. Cutting a web while leaving tangible evidence requires precision, lest you destroy the entire construction and leave nothing for your superiors to assess. A good spy - and indeed, a good member of law enforcement - seems to me like it ought to know how to spin webs of its own."

Another raised eyebrow. "Do please tell me you've had to land more complex lies than your daughter's birthday arrangements. Oh - and please tell me you've enjoyed it. I won't believe a word of it if you tell me you never have. For that matter, can werewolves lie nonverbally? It seems to me like your pheromones would give you away instantly."

[TennyoCeres84]

The middle-aged woman nodded. "I have, usually when I had to go undercover. Wearing wigs and contacts only goes so far; you have to act the part for the case to go smoothly. As for pheromones, they can be sensed by anthros, other supernaturals, and Chimeras. Thankfully, they've developed a deodorant that temporarily hides such things. If anyone tries to sniff me out, so to speak, all there is a big whiff of flowers."

She chuckled and slyly glanced at Holden. "Now, I can pick up facial expressions, vocal tone, and body language due to my nature as a werewolf and as a Behavioral Sciences major," she stated, obviously hinting she had picked up his deeper intentions for their outing.

[IamLEAM1983]

Archie kept his eyes on the task of parallel-parking in front of the restaurant, but it was fairly obvious that Crystal had hit a nerve. "And here I was," he sighed, "cheerfully denying that which drove me to a complete loss of countenance, last night..."

Leaving the driver's seat, he opened Crystal's door the way few people still did in this day and age. Unavoidably, their entrance made a few heads turn alongside the sidewalk that stretched in front of the Succulus. "I really have no desire to address the subject of my, er, loneliness - independence, rather, and every interest in optimizing our offices' professional relationship."

Pheromones or no, organic muscles or pistons and cogwheels, it was a boldfaced lie and he knew it. Crystal would know it, too. Again, he felt the urge to somehow castigate himself for being unable to deny his ego its habitual forms of protection. Rather fortuitously, his flustered state made him miss the slight doorjamb that waited in front of the double doors' threshold, and trip against it. He instantly dipped forwards and into the restaurant, the only things that saved him from face-planting being his cane and the arm Crystal still held.

"Confound it- of all the bloody things-!" he seethed, briefly struggling to keep his balance on his tripping leg. With some effort, he managed to recover his balance and sent the waiting maitre d' a haughty glare. He bent down, recovering his gibus like a dignitary who would have suffered the grievest of insults to his character, and then sent a self-conscious look to the werewolf.

He wasn't stupid. The fact that he lost his countenance whenever he tried avoiding the topic meant something. That same self-conscious look became one of quiet regret.

"This is - It is hard for me to admit, miss Lowell; but I needed this. Thank you. In advance, that is."

[TennyoCeres84]

"You're quite welcome, Mr. Holden," Crystal answered resting a hand on his arm. "Though, try and relax," she whispered into his ear. "That'll go a long way to saving face and make the evening go smoothly. Let's get our table, and then we can order, hm?"

The werewolf had indeed noticed his lie, but she did not note it outwardly. She was used to the public limelight and hiding her emotions that didn't involve chastising herself if she slipped. She simply excused herself and did not think it a big deal. The former spy was so metaphorically wound up that he seemed unable to fully acknowledge his emotions and how to handle them.

[IamLEAM1983]

"I will take it under advisement," replied the Clank, in the sort of tone you would've used for more sincere words. His turn of phrase was now generally viewed as a polite response or a platitude at best, but different times expressed themselves in different ways.

The Succulus wasn't exactly like the franchise restaurants you'd see around the city, and it also wasn't a small Mom-and-Pop operation. The decor was a bit on the Classic side, with large wooden pillars carved and polished into dignified Doric columns, and an abundance of trellis patterns crisscrossing the ceiling's otherwise bare pipe and ventilation system. Vines had been made to grow along those structures rather liberally, and various busts of important Roman and Greek figures dotted the couch arrangements. It felt a bit like the designer had taken the hokey "Italian" vibe of many an average pasta-focused restaurant and infused it with an unusual amount of legitimacy.

Then again, it might not be all that surprising - the lead chef and owner was Lucius Bromley, a member of the Court of Vitellius who was typically considered as a Caterer - as this was the term used to refer to Ogres who managed to keep their impulses in check. A success story thousands of years in the writing, Lucius had turned his insatiable hunger into a source of impeccable culinary refinement, to the point where he now was publicly known to state that he preferred to feed on the looks of surprise or contentment that his guests exhibited. Not that they'd come here to meet the man, of course, but he was the reason why Hope had at least one place where your wallet wouldn't be gouged out and that could still offer you a dining experience you would've expected from political conferences or a royal wedding.

The maitre d' was a fairly dishy brunette in her early thirties, maybe sporting early crow's feet indicative of full-time motherhood. "Welcome sir, madam," she said, genuinely smiling. "Under Holden, correct?"

Archie nodded in the affirmative. "Alright," she said, "I've received special instructions from mister Bromley; he wants you two to have the Tea Salon. It isn't usually open at this hour, but we apparently don't mind making an exception.
- Oh, Lucius," ruefully scoffed the spy, shaking his head as he did. "You never were the one for humility, in regards to your friends' dinner plans...
- I'd placed you by the fountain, near the middle of the room," explained the woman, "but the boss saw your name on the floor plan and decided that it wouldn't do. How could I reason with a man who keeps wanting to find ways to please others?"

Holden quirked an eyebrow. "I haven't had the pleasure of offering him my salutations, since my awakening," he explained. "How is he, if I may ask?"

She led the couple along, across the already noisy main dining room. Between the clinks of so many utensils on so many plates and the Classical music the overhead speakers piped, it was hard to clearly hear her response. Well - it would have been if you hadn't been a Clank or a werewolf...

"He's busy!" she replied. "Really busy, lately! New promotion, new cooks, new faces! Lots of papers to grade and reception plans to review!
- I'm sorry," replied Archie, "has he fired all his previous staff?!
- No, mister Holden," she called back, "they've retired! We're a culinary school, now; and only mister B and myself stick through the semesters! It probably isn't news for the Deputy Chief, but I can understand why you'd be surprised! Lucius figured, why tease them with promises of five-star postings during their training when you can just train them in a Michelin Guide-certified environment? If they can handle extreme pressure from Day One, they'll be ready for practically anything else!"

Across the main dining room waited a discreet set of rice-paper doors, which she opened. Owing to carefully placed noise-cancelling runes, the main area's din immediately gave way to the hushed atmosphere of a room awash in light Oriental touches, the center occupied by a medium-sized table surrounded by a curving sectional sofa. The place smelled faintly of carefully selected cigars and of a few sweet hookah tobacco aromas. Notably, the table was a bit thicker than you would've expected, its rosewood surface broken up by a carefully concealed panel. Inlaid in gold across it was the word Mahjong, while another hidden drawer sported the word Poker.

This was a place where you could eat as well as engage in a few private diversions - and Archie briefly felt like protesting. The more intimate the ambiance would be, the more he'd be forced to ponder matters beyond workplace logistics. All the same, she'd just told him he was better off relaxing, hadn't she?

To some people, the smell of coffee, soft drinks or comfort food could act as a gateway drug to relaxation. Immediately, the more hedonistic corner of the spy's mind flared up, the last embers of fatigue willed away by the prospect of being able to cadge a good pipe from one of Lucius' personal selections. Still, as some modern-day cigar lounge prowlers could tell you, that would be better enjoyed for dessert.

Crystal wouldn't have personally met Bromley before, but this would be enough for her to realize he was someone who took honest care of his friends. Still - he was just enough of an undead schemer, apparently, to ensnare an old friend of his with the shackles of comfort - all the better to facilitate what he probably had understood to be a clumsy dating attempt. In any case, these slightly old-timey aromas seemed to corrode the automaton's anxieties, to the point where she'd see Holden's shoulders comfortably dip.

Maybe she'd have more luck with Archie the Placated Pleasure-Seeker than with Archie the Clumsy Courtier.

[TennyoCeres84]

Crystal seated herself at the table and enjoyed the plush feeling of the couch, the cushions rustling faintly as her body made contact with the fabric. She took in a deep inhale of the coffee-scented room and sighed contently. "My compliments to Mr. Bromley for his insight," she said. "I've heard of numerous favorable reviews for this place, and I see that they're quite true." She smiled when she noticed the clank's shoulders drop slightly in relaxation. 'Here's hoping he'll loosen up a bit,' she thought.

[IamLEAM1983]

Mechanical considerations limited how much Archie could manage to look recognizably relaxed, but his facial plates and eyelids did suggest a somewhat more serene mindset.

"Someone will be along to take your order shortly," the maitre d' said. "I'll make sure to relay your compliments, madam."

Then, with a short bow and a smile, she left them alone in the almost hermetically sealed room. You could barely hear the din on the other side of the doors, while ceiling-mounted speakers softly played a selection of classic Asian arrangements. The Chinese fiddle did lend itself to more energetic fare than violin orchestras, but the volume was so low the overall effect would still be one of light aural ambiance.

Archie's face shifted to a slightly more thoughtful look, and he briefly busied himself with the task of undoing his linen napkin's artful little sculpture and setting it in his lap.

"Miss Lowell, I've invited you here in the hopes that I could bring myself to be as forthcoming as I can be," he began. "I haven't told you of the rather fortuitous meeting I've had in the days that followed the Hall's official recognition as an extension of your department..."

He swallowed, hard. "I crossed paths with the one I'd once called the love of my life. I'd held out some hope of my absence still leaving some grounds for an amicable reunion, but what I found was an empty shell locked away in the Carmilla's propensity for depressive episodes. She blames me for her current state, when I offered her to a Milanese acquaintance to save her life from tuberculosis. What I've done, I carried out with her consent - and she now blames me for it."

Archie sighed. "My heart has only now begun to heal, and I am aware of how ungrateful my words might seem to you. Work pushes the specter of solitude far enough away for me to function for several days, but it only does so much. I am not quite ready to consider that I've befriended my newfound coworkers; but I do find myself in need of companionship. Of understanding. Of something more poignant than Shamus' blindly offered trust, God bless him."

As he'd spoken, he'd stared at one of his forks, almost nervously refusing to look up to Crystal. When he did, he looked unusually earnest. "I shan't impose myself on you, Crystal. Having you as a friend will do wonders in difficult times - but I must admit I found myself entranced by the... purity of your actions as a werewolf. Even in the midst of battle, I found something of beauty in your tactics; the way your animal self and your higher human instincts melded together seamlessly."

He bowed his head, scoffing almost silently. "In all honesty, the Hall needs no optimizations. What I need is to know that what I've seen was no illusion. I've caught your inflections and responding to them is an utter nightmare, so soon in the evening, but I feel I must ask this question if we are to proceed..."

Again, he looked at Crystal, his hands almost nervously set on the table, his eyes reaching across the distance the way he clearly was denying his hands.

"May I call on you, Crystal Lowell? That is - nevermind the fact that we very much are on a date, as we speak. Oh - and would you prefer red wine or white wine?"

The juxtaposition of a disarmingly honest question with an oddly casual query was a sign that he hadn't evacuated all of his nervousness - but he still was making an honest effort. It was obvious he was afraid Crystal might think he took her for a "rebound girl" of sorts, but the fact was that his musty aristocrat's heart had no grasp on that particular concept. Yes, courting Crystal would heal a few emotional bruises faster, but he also wasn't pursuing her simply for the purposes of no longer hurting.

Besides, when the previous relationship happens to have been dead for over a century, could you honestly consider the one that follows it as a rebound?

[TennyoCeres84]

Crystal's warm fingers gingerly curled around Archibald's metallic ones, gently stroking the tips with her thumb. Her cheeks were a touch reddened, but she was otherwise composed. She was flattered by his admiration of her 'pure' blend of instincts and rationale, even finding it endearing.

"Of course you may call on me. You already have me as your friend and comrade, so I can see us progressing toward something more...intimate. I understand that your heart still needs some time to heal, but I would be happy to be by your side," she answered, smiling to him. Remembering the second question, she glanced down at the menu and added, "A Muscato sounds good right now."