Old McDonald had a goat? – GS.

 

The fluffy alien with an insatiably curious mind was causing all sorts of chaos, as the four tried to answer her questions.  Of course, the guys had other more pressing matters to attend to.  The package that had the dirt on the Commander for one.  Would Frank use it in a bid to clear his name?  Read on and find out.

Scene setting – Elissa’s apartment : Gantz Series.

Co-written with Temp, Chor and VunG.

 

Temp:  Xillia looked back and forth between the humans as they reacted to her little ‘show’. The explanations that she received about breasts were very interesting to say the least, and more or less made perfect sense. It seemed as though human males were quite fond of these things, which was also common among her people. She couldn’t help but smile as she analyzed Frank and Tommy’s reactions to her exposure. “I see! So they are important among you as well! I’m glad mine are to your liking!” Of course, she didn’t quite understand that any of these humans were ‘romantically involved’ with each other. In fact, she didn’t even know what romance was. Breeding was a common practice among her people, but love and things of that nature weren’t really present. From her perspective, if two beings found each other desirable for procreation then they would engage in a mating ritual. She didn’t expect that from these humans though, as they seemed to already both have mating partners. “I wonder what it would be like to mate with a human…am I too large for that?” Probably. It was unfortunate that it was an experience she would likely miss out on, but it wasn’t that big of a deal. “Well, never mind that…I’m grateful for the information you’ve shared with me.” She bowed her head towards them all in a sign of appreciation. There was still a great deal that she wanted to learn about the humans and their culture, but there was no need to rush.

 

Chor:  Despite her best efforts, it seemed Isolde still was the odd one out – continuously proving she wasn’t quite capable of functioning in society without making a fool of herself. She bit down on her tongue. For most of the rest of the conversation she focused solely on running her fingers along and scoping out the terrain of her left clavicle, the bone jagged where she’d been injured a few years back. When it seemed the conversation was dying down, Isa chimed in once more.

“Also, they are not only for ogling by suitors; many females utilize them to feed their young,” she spoke, a little more reserved than the original vigor of her earlier statement. She was glad to be able to be the one providing information for this alien species who was so very interested in human nature. It was almost an honor. No one has done this before; that has been recorded…

“It’s my pleasure.”

VunG:  The guys’ reactions were… well Elissa couldn’t say what she’d expected, but they sure as heck weren’t too far out of the ordinary. Frank’s reaction was… well pretty much what she’d imagine a horny Frank to look like: goofy, inelegant, and comically ridiculous. As for Tommy though, she couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride as he struggled between the alien’s huge knockers and eventually settled on hers, assuring her that hers were ‘perfect.’ It got a smile out of her, and while it was kind of silly that he was struggling between her and a twelve foot tall fluffy alien, she knew that men had pretty bad times trying not to look at anything that shoot a rack their way. Reaching across the table, she grabbed a napkin and wiped at his nose, giving him a coy grin before turning her attention back to the alien.

Jeeze, this thing was freaking relentless wasn’t she? That alien just seemed absolutely obsessed with the idea of mating–were her kind hedonistic or something? Of course, then came the subject of mating with a human, and the first thing that came to mind was a phrase that would probably be a little too mean to the boys to even write out, a snort escaping her followed by a silent laugh. However… she had an idea. After nodding her agreement with Isolde’s comment and smiling her own silent ‘happy to help,’ she got up from her chair and went over to the fridge, looking around until she found a hot dog. Then wrote down her message and brought one of the sausages over to the alien, placing it in front of her along with the note. ~If something this size would be too small for you, you’ll probably be disappointed. That, and you might crush the poor guy.~ Hot dog down a hallway, folks. Hot dog down a hallway.

 

Razorbackwriter:  
While Tommy’s cheeks went a dark shade of red over the fact he had a nose bleed at the worst possible time, Frank was now guffawing like there was no tomorrow. Talk about Goofy on steroids. If it wasn’t the fluffy Princess asking if she would be too large to mate with, it was Elissa putting it pretty plainly that she would be way too big for the likes of a mere human male.

“Our penises are a fair size….but…you know. They might get lost.” Frank managed to get out. “But…yeah, I think we might be biting off more than we can chew.”

The detective had to take his hanky out of his pocket to try and wipe away the tears that now stained his cheeks. It took him a good few minutes to reign in his laughter, all the while, Tommy was trying to look anywhere, but at the fluffy Princess. It was all a bit too much.

The reporter then remembered the package on the coffee table. This was probably the worst time to hand it over, especially after Frank had been laughing and enjoying Fluffy’s antics. Getting up from the table, he went over and scooped up the evidence, including the pictures and the DVD of him at Madame Rose’s club. Knowing that Elissa would be watching, he said on passing. “He needs to see these. Probably better if he does so later though. I don’t want Fluffy getting the wrong idea…you know?”

Course, they both knew what the pictures were of.

“Frank. I got some compromising material on the Commander via…..a source. It might be your ticket to stopping him from standing in the way of your investigations of Rory.”

Frank completely stopped laughing and looked at the package before taking it off Tommy’s hands.

“What is it?” Genuinely curious.

“Let’s just say…..the Commander should be called “Old McDonald loved his goat….ei ie ei ie ooh.”

Frank unzipped the package and took out just one of the photos. It was all that he needed to see.

“Woah. That’s fucked up.”

He offered the picture to Isolde for her opinion. This would be scandalous and career damaging to say the least.

 

~RB~

 

Temp:  The size of the ‘hot dog’ that was shown to her was not very impressive. The males of her kind were definitely much larger. Crushing a human would also be bad. Xillia was a bit upset that the prospect of mating with a human was not likely to go down well, but she wouldn’t let it keep her down. “I see…that’s unfortunate.” No mating with humans it seemed. After all the last thing she wanted to do was be disappointed with a humans performance, and she definitely didn’t want to crush one. It would just have to remain a possibility. The new topic that the humans were talking about didn’t make much sense to her, but that made her all the more curious. “What is a…Old McDonald? What does fucked up mean? What’s a goat?” Her tail was wiggling like crazy as she plopped out question after question. More things to learn! MORE THINGS TO LEARN!

 

Chor:  Isolde blinked as Elissa disappeared to the kitchen; having no idea of what she could need there. What she produced though, was enough to send Isolde reeling. She burst into laughter; covering her mouth with a dainty hand. The alien didn’t seem all too pleased about this and her face showed Isolde that their anatomy was far less sizable. When she was able to calm herself, Isa added, “…and that’s being generous.”

The mood in the next moment was completely changed; it was serious. The very air in the room thickened as Tommy produced an envelope, one which was stole from his hands after stating something about the Commander. The thought of putting that insufferable cock in his place brought a little more joy to Isa’s day and she imagined what it could be that they’d found. What she saw, though, she was in no way prepared for. Was that a goat? A goat. It was most definitely a goat. Now, Isolde has seen many things in her profession of choice. Men reduced to ground beef, disembodied parts of all origins, or even people from whom the skin has been peeled away. This, however, she could not stomach. Her gag reflex toyed with her, producing bile which she promptly left the table to dispose of in the nearest trash can, along with the amazing breakfast she’d shared with Frank before all this mess occurred.

“What…” sentences were attempted, but nothing followed as she wiped her face with a wet paper towel and trashed that too. Sitting back down relieved a little of the nausea. The Commander had recently been gotten married…Isa was sure of it, but he…with goats..and…

There was nothing else to think about. This man was so fucked up even Isa couldn’t fathom it.

VunG:  Oh good God, what had Elissa done? All the laughter from her comment was actually kind of overwhelming–she had meant it as a joke, but holy cow she really had sent the room into hysterics. Well, guess she’d best own it. As Isolde added her two cents, she promptly snickered and nodded agreeably and struggling not to fall into the same degree of laughter as the others were. It was clear the alien didn’t quite understand what was so funny, but at least she got the point that humans were a touch tiny for her tastes.

Of course, the joy was sucked out a bit when Tommy realized that it would probably be a bad idea if the alien saw those pictures. She’d think that they found interspecies relations acceptable, or maybe that spying was okay, neither of which were even remotely true. That said, she had been hoping to hold off on actually showing Frank what it was, and as he went to grab it she internally cringed as she realized that this might get very quickly out of hand if Frank was a little too vocal on it. As it was Tommy’s comment had her palm on her forehead within seconds, letting out a sigh as she tried not to laugh at that.

The alien, for her part, clearly wasn’t stupid, and picked up pretty quickly that there was something going on. Sighing again, she quickly wrote down a response. ~In order. Old MacDonald is an old children’s song, ‘fucked up’ usually means that something is very wrong or disgusting (which is the case here), and a goat is a four-legged critter about two-thirds our size often used for milk, meat, and occasionally fur. You’d be best off not knowing what’s in there, but if you MUST, know that it’s very abnormal~ As she was writing that, she would be taken off-guard by the sound of retching, and would see poor Isolde puking into a trash can. Well, at least she’d made it to the trashcan. Handing the note off, she then gave Isolde a few pats on the back and got her some paper towels to wipe her mouth off, and once she stopped heaving she began filling a glass of water for her. Apparently she had a weaker gag stomach than Elissa–ironic considering the work she did but, meh, Elissa used to be the one putting people in the morgue.

 

Razorbackwriter:  
Frank’s initial reaction was one of shock and revulsion. Here was the top cop in the city doing unspeakable things to a domesticated farm animal. In a club no less. The detective’s eyes narrowed as he studied the photographs further, trying to work out just where he had seen the curtains in the image before. It was familiar in an odd way. That alone sent shivers through him. Isolde was not able to hide her disgust. She was up and over at the trash can basically bringing up her breakfast. Who could blame her? Elissa was quick to go and tend to Isolde, while Frank was deep in thought now. This package of photographs, and what looked to be a surveillance DVD was dynamite in the wrong hands. After everything the Commander had done to stand in the way of Frank’s investigations, and also the latest shooting death of the mobster back off the alley near where Rory was taken, this now shined a light on just how fucked up the Commander really was. Wasn’t he just married to some mail order bride from Honkers?

With the alien still asking a lot more questions, which seemed to be endless, Frank started to stuff the photographs back into the envelope that they came in. First things first. He had to ask.

“Okay Tommy, where did you get these?”

Tommy hadn’t been forthcoming with this information in front of Elissa before now, and he slowly rose to standing. You could see he was uncomfortable with being asked this in front of the others. Especially, Elissa.

“Remember Madame Rose Li?”

Frank nodded slowly. “Yeah, really creepy lady that was involved with your brother before…” His voice trailed off as he could see Tommy’s face changing. Just talking about that, was bringing back memories he rather not forget. Tommy took the lap top up off the table and closed it slowly. “She was at my office at work. They, and I assume she means the mob are more than aware of who killed Joey Patone. They know that the Commander is trying to fit you up for it.” He stared down at the parcel in Frank’s hands. Tommy now wondered just what Frank was going to do with it.

“So…heh…you’re telling me, that the mob are trying to help a cop?” That…in itself didn’t make any sense. The reporter looked uneasy as he dragged his fingers through his hair. “I think the Commander is more of a danger to them then you are. For some reason. I guess this was an insurance policy to shut him up.”

It was starting to look very much that way. Now the question was, would Frank use it?

Frank bundled up the papers, and then turned to face Isolde. He knew what he had to do, but didn’t want her involved.

“I’ve gotta go. You stay here with….Xillia.” Dragging along the alien on this very private mission was a bad idea. “I’m tired of being the scapegoat. I need to end this.”

Not waiting for her reply, he kissed her lips softly, before grabbing his coat and making his way to the door. Tommy pretty much knew this was going to happen, but he also had to go to work. “I’ll come downstairs with you.” The reporter felt bad about leaving Elissa and Isolde with the fluffy princess, but both men had things to do. Interviewing Xillia had to wait.

Tommy grabbed his sports bag, and seemed to forget everything about the promises of dinner. He had someone he needed to see.

Madame Rose.

 

~RB~

 

Temp:  Xillia turned her gaze towards the different humans as they spoke and mentally documented their words and explanations. All four of these humans were interesting in her eyes, and she found that she enjoyed their company. She still didn’t understand what they were really talking about, nor what the pictures contained, but it didn’t bother her. Her tail happily wiggled back and forth as her eyes wandered about the room in curiosity. There were so many strange things on Earth that she simply wanted to grab and examine, like these humans! Though from what she had gathered they probably wouldn’t like being picked up and examined like dolls. She watched as the two male humans started to get up and leave, and tilted her head very far to the side as she watched one of the males press his face against one of the females. “Oooooh! What was that?!” She shouted as the males exited the room, and then scurried over to Elissa, who she got very close to. She even leaned down somewhat close like Tommy had to her. “Was was that thing you two did? What is the purpose? Is it healthy? Does it feel good? Do you do that anywhere else? Can I try?!” Her eyes were probably sparkling like diamonds right now as she stared at Elissa in a crazed state of curiosity.

 

Chor:  Everything was a whirlwind. Isolde was barely aware of the conversation and motion of people around her, but something serious- a sort of plan you might say- was silently happening in the room. There was an uneasiness roiling in her now empty stomach, and not for that reason. There was something about the way eyes glanced around the table and sentences were formed in intense fashions that told Isolde that it was going down; immediately. Frank had come to a standing position and was speaking with Tommy about some mob contact. It wasn’t surprising, really, considering how much fucked up shit had already happened in the past 24 hours. When it comes to the mob, your common enemy makes you a foe…until you become necessary for disposal. Claura often had worked with mob contacts in Vice as many of the girls had contracts with the many families seated deep within the city. She’d told stories, mostly just simple things that she could mention without reprimand, but Isa knew not to meddle with those kinds of people. Frank was leaving? A blink, her mouth opening for protest, closed and reopened her eyes swiftly as he looked to her.

“But-” there were no words she could think of that she’d rather say than experience what happened next. As his lips made first contact, a dark hunger turned the hornets in her stomach to butterflies. If he had not so soon left her, she didn’t imagine she would be able to resist continuation of this kiss. Her eyes searched his and in them saw nearly the same sort of determination and desperation that she’d noticed when she followed him from the pizza place. It was so frightening to see, her breath caught. Frank was leaving. Was he coming back? With no one to be there for him, would he fare as well as the last time he ventured into the night seeking redemption? Isolde’s bone-white fingers curled into her palms, pressing her nails dangerously into them. Even after he left, she did not speak. Xillia was reinvigorated, asking more questions than Isolde was even prepared to answer. She could do naught. Swallow. Blink. Breathe.

 

VunG:  Elissa would look up from tending to poor Isolde with a raised eyebrow as the men talked about their needs for work. It still concerned her that Tommy had a connection within the friggin’ mob and that they were playing some sort of political game with those murderers. Still, it was what they had to go on, and the fact that the mob was even interested told her that the bastard probably already worked for them and they were just trying to get some loyalty points with someone else. Having a detective on your payroll would be valuable–not that she expected Frank to go that far, but that was probably the thought. That all said, the look on Tommy’s face when his brother came up made her curious, and while she didn’t bother asking at the moment, she made sure to log it away.

Eventually the guys made to leave, and she would make sure to give Tommy a hug before he took off, nodding to the request to keep an eye on Fluffy. Granted, she didn’t know what all she could do in that regard, but she’d give it a shot. The sight of Frank kissing Isolde threw her for a loop, but like she’d been thinking throughout this whole thing–it was none of her business. Sighing, she gave them a gesture halfway between a wave and a salute, mouthing ‘godspeed’ to them as the door closed behind them.

And then the moment she turned around she had an alien filling the entirety of her vision. So many friggin questions! And of course she wanted to kiss because apparently it was something new to her–friggin’ wonderful. Sighing, she stepped back from the alien a bit and pulled out the notepad again and began writing a response… knowing full well that this was going to be a very long day… and that she would probably have to explain some things to her since Frank and Isolde hadn’t. As she wrote though, she noticed the look on Isolde’s face, and realized that there was probably something going on beyond Frank and her being in a relationship. Sighing, she finished the note and handed it to the alien before heading over to Isolde, touching her on the shoulder and looking her in the eye, a concerned expression on her face, trying to silently convey that she was checking if she was alright. As for the note… ~Clearly those two didn’t tell you much. I’ll answer as many questions I can, though I’m going to need something bigger than this notepad to do that. Let me check on Isolde, she looks pretty rattled, then I’ll get a notebook and sit down with you, okay?~

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Alien Anthropologist and the Goofy Detective – GS.

The alien kitty Princess causes chaos, as she becomes way too curious about Tommy and Elissa.  Poor Frank and Isolde are left to do the explaining, until Xillia interrupts.

Scene setting : Elissa’s apartment, Gantz Series.

Co-written with Temp, Chor and VunG.

 

Temp:  Out of the two new humans in her presence, the female proved to be the more surprised. With Isolde and Frank it had been the male. It was slightly interesting to say the least. Xillia really didn’t know how to feel about Frank and the other man acting hostile towards each other, but she knew she wanted to stop it. Just before she was about to snag the two by their collars, Isolde managed to invite her and the other female over to a table. Of course, there was no way she would fit in the tiny seats next to it, so she instead simply scooted over and remained on her knees. Her tail flicked back and forth curiously as she watched the four humans and their strange reactions. Humans were definitely proving to be the interesting creatures that she thought they would be. It seemed that she wouldn’t get a chance to watch them partake in intercourse though, which was very unfortunate. Instead of actually saying anything she remained silent, figuring that Frank and Isolde would do the talking for her.

 

VunG:  Elissa was still in a bit of a daze as Tommy began snapping at the newcomer and, most of all, Frank. She vaguely registered what was happening, though she was still slow to respond and her eyes drifted sleepily to and fro between them. Though… that was a damn good question, how in the world did they know that she and Tommy had been doing the do?! Still, her thoughts would be cut short as Frank screamed like he had a clothespin attached to his nuts and sprinted for the kitchen with Tommy in hot pursuit. Oh no, oh nonononono, she was not about to have that. Surprisingly, she wouldn’t be the one to get their attention, Isolde instead declaring a meeting, not now but right now! Nodding coldly agreeably and looking straight at the men, with a glare at Frank in particular, she would quickly go to grab her notepad and pencil before heading for the table. If the men didn’t come, she’d give a sharp whistle. Of course, as she moved to join, she realized just how tall this ‘alien’ woman was… and that she was on her knees like a parent chasing after his kid… jeeze, how tall was this lady?!

Shaking her head, she sat down rather forcefully in one of the chairs and rather furiously wrote down, ~I want answers. Now. Why wasn’t Frank picking up? How did you get in here? And who the hell is Fluffy over here?!~ You could tell juts by looking at her that she was more than a little perturbed, a vein perhaps a little larger than it should have been and her eyes flashing dangerously. That said, she didn’t seem to be angry at anyone in particular except for Frank, and even then that could wait; no she was just angry in general at being interrupted and being so thoroughly confused… and at the intrusion.

 

Razorbackwriter:  Tommy had Frank by the scruff of the neck, and his arm pulled back about to punch him in the face. It was the pent up frustration coupled with the fact that “Fluffy” and co had ruined what was a beautiful moment between himself and Elissa. He was just about to knock Frank’s lights out, when Isolde let out a huge order that the boys knock it off. It was enough to have Tommy stop in his tracks, and then push Frank back, before straightening his own collar.

“We aren’t done.” Tommy threatened. Making the “I have my eyes on you” gesture with two fingers, from his eyes then to Frank’s and back to his own. Frank tried to catch his breath, after already experienced teleporting for the very first time, and then catching Tommy and Elissa in a rather hot embrace. Tommy turned on his heel and marched out of the kitchen and then past Isa, who was issuing commands like she was in charge of a crime scene. She ordered that they all enter the dining area and take a seat for a discussion. Frank waited a good minute in the kitchen before emerging. It was bad enough that Tommy wanted to deck him, and then the fact they had a gigantic cat girl fluffy alien in there too, had to be explained. He might not be able to answer all their questions, at once.

Tommy took a seat near Elissa, reaching under the table to place his hand on her thigh, while she was busy scribbling down a heap of questions. Elissa looked pissed, and who could blame her. Tommy certainly couldn’t.

Frank….finally got the balls to come out of the kitchen when everyone was seated. All seemed to be looking at him, though Fluffy was looking on at each of them. She must have had a lot of questions about why the fight broke out and if this was normal Human behaviour.

“I know you are probably wondering what happened to me….”

Tommy just growled.

“Right..well, I admit when I left here the other night, I was pretty down. I….uhm…well, I was going to go and end it all.”

Tommy’s lips thinned as he crossed his arms and waited to hear more.

“I…kinda bumped into Isa…who helped me realize that I was making a mistake. She spent the night at my place, and…no before you ask, the reason she is wearing Missy’s clothes is cause she didn’t go home after that. We were going to come see you when we bumped into Princess Xillia.” At this point he gestured to the alien fluffy girl, and smiled weakly. “I’m really sorry for not calling sooner….and…really sorry we interrupted your sexy time.”

Frank looked at Isa hopefully, like if she wanted to interject, but he quickly sat down, as he thought he pretty much answered everything, but he did bounce out of his seat to add.

“We teleported into the room. Pretty cool, huh?”

~RB~

 

Chor:  Isolde at first let Frank answer the questions about his whereabouts in the last twelve hours. A thankful demeanor aired through her at the mention of the hoodie that very clearly read ‘Malone’ on the back in the brightest white one could afford. She had to give Missy one thing, she kept her laundry immaculate. Not a single grass stain or discoloration from washing with other colours. Something struck her at the end of his little spiel, though. There was not one mention about how she’d been the one who called him. As he settled, she blinked and cleared her throat, making sure that the attention was now directed toward her.

“Just for clarification; I called Frank to my aid last night so if you have any ill thoughts you may direct them at me. It was my own fault that Frank left,” Isa spoke, licking her lips and nodding to signal the end of her input. Frank went on about the teleporting again and she looked at him. He was certainly something, something that turned her solemn frown into a light grin with his quirky antics and high energy level.

“He is correct; we were brought here by means of teleportation via our new acquaintance, Princess Xillia over yonder,” Isa reinforced, gesturing to their fluffy, alien ride-along.

 

Temp: Xillia bobbed her head back and forth curiously between the four humans as they all interacted. One of them didn’t speak, but instead wrote down her words. How interesting. The other three were speaking like she expected between each other, though one of the males seemed to be rather aggressive. She tried to chime in on a few points, which were mostly her trying to stop any sort of violence going on around her, but the humans were speaking relatively quickly. Eventually she found that it was her turn to speak as Isolde gestured towards her. She happily raised a hand and waved at the two humans whom she didn’t know, and offered a great big ol’ smile. Even though she was a giant in comparison to the others and was clearly not humans, it was clear that she was very happy and excited to be here. “Hello, hello! I am Princess Xillia, and I’ve come to your planet out of love for your people! I do apologize if I interrupted your mating rituals.” With her apology she offered a few quick bows of apology, then looked back and forth between the four humans curiously once more. Perhaps they would continue their mating ritual with the other two humans? Do humans do it in fours? Ohhh she was so curious!

 

VunG:  Elissa was all too happy to have Tommy by her side, her own hand resting on his, oh so grateful for his support. Right now, as much as she acted like a ferocious tiger, she felt pretty well naked and vulnerable with her arm like it is… and honestly she didn’t know what the hell was going on. Yeah, she was a bit scared, she wasn’t too proud to admit that to herself, but she refused to show it off.

Of course, when Frank started up, she simply stared at him, her face completely unflinching as he explained that he had fully intended to end it all. One word came into her head in response, and she damn near wrote it down in response but kept herself at bay. That word, was ‘coward.’ She didn’t know why it came up, or what made her feel that way, but in that moment she thought that the very concept of even considering such a short-sighted action was the peak of cowardice. Unlike her after her… series of events, Frank at the very least had Tommy and Rory’s memory to fight for–to abandon those would be the ultimate disservice. However… she let it go… he had it rough already, and she could handle that when the bigger questions were tackled.

Isolde’s claim that it was her fault went more or less unheard; Frank could have simply told her, ‘Hey, ‘Lissa, I’m going to help someone from the force, take care,’ and she would have given him a salute and gone straight to bed. Though, she did kind of shrug off the fact that Isolde was wearing Frank’s wife’s clothes… she hadn’t noticed it until he pointed it out, and after that she very frankly didn’t think it her business if the two were fucking. Wasn’t her business, and would make her a bit of a hypocrite.

That saaaiiiiid… the repeated apologies for interrupting their ‘sexy times’ wore really thin on her really fast. They were apologizing, so she couldn’t be rightly angry about that, but it was a bit annoying that they thought that she was angry that she and Tommy weren’t screwing again… granted having their intimacy spoiled didn’t help but regardless. No, what really bothered her was the teleportation thing. As the three of them insisted that that was so… and then the ‘alien princess’ introduced herself as some sort of lover of human studies or whatever you’d call that and apologized for interrupting their mating, she pinched the bridge of her nose and let out a long, frustrated sigh. She wanted to believe this was just some sort of elaborate hoax, because honestly she’d prefer that than some intricate sci-fi nonsense, but at this point she was having a hard time.

The following actions would seem odd to anyone not in her head, and especially to Xillia. First, she pinched herself, hard enough to leave a mark, hoping that she was dreaming. Then she would wave for Frank and Isolde to lean towards her, and would spend a moment staring carefully at their eyes before seeing that their eyes were, indeed, neither dilated nor red enough for drugs… or at least none she knew symptoms of off the top of her head. Then she took a good long look at Princess Xillia, tilting her head to and fro, trying to find the inflatable tube or the sign of animatronics or even a locksmith’s kit for the purpose of getting in without her or Tommy noticing. But… eventually she realized that, yes, this seemed to be real… or a very well-done dream. And throughout all of this, she kept a tight grip on Tommy’s hand, almost clinging to him for support.

Sighing and pinching her bridge again, she looked almost pleadingly to Tommy and then wrote with carefully-‘spoken’ sluggishness, ~So you’re meaning to tell me that you two just happened to stumble onto an alien princess anthropologist. Let me write that down again, an alien princess anthropologist.~ Sighing again, she would rip out that page, pass it to someone, then write down a fresh introduction, pausing to take a deep breath before looking to Xillia with a more relaxed, if tired expression. ~I’m sorry I’ve been such a… bitchy guest. Frank had me scared even before you lot popped in. I’m Elissa, Your Grace. So… welcome to our planet I suppose.~

She just welcomed an royal alien xenoanthropologist with the equivalent of a post-it note. Sounded like part of a bad joke.

 

 

Princess Kitty – GS.

 

Frank had always thought of the possibilities of an alien race that was terrorizing the planet.  Like the one that took Rory that fateful night.  He had no idea that aliens had fluffy tails.

Scene setting : Outside Jax’s Coffee House.

Co-written with Temp and Chor.

 

Razorbackwriter:  For a detective, Frank was pretty clueless – especially when Isa slipped some money into his jacket to help pay for her meal. Being a gentleman, Frank believed that it was only right that he should pay the cheque – even if his salary was barely covering his expenses. Ambling out the door, he happened to hear Isa mention that she had a car. Well that was a relief. Not having to hail yet another cab to Elissa’s place was going to save him a few dollars. Also, he often hated the back seats of New York cabs. You never really knew what you were going to be sitting on. Showing a smile, Frank was all too ready to head for her car, when the oddest looking woman – if you could call her that, approached them and greeted them both in a way that made you think she was from way out of town.

“Hello humans! Your planet is wonderful!”

Now Frank was used to seeing oddities in the city. Why, go to Broadway and you see some amazing costumes and special effects when producers are promoting their plays or musicals. So…when Frank heard the ever so tall kitten girl say“Hello Humans.”, Frank naturally thought it was an act.

“Ahaha. Wow, are you from an off Broadway production? I gotta say, that tail looks so realistic. Kudos to your wardrobe department. I’ll take a flyer if you have one.”

Totally clueless.

Frank nudged Isa and said. “Do you want to pull her tail as much as I do?”

~RB~

 

Chor:  Isolde watched Frank’s expression, seeing his interest in the fact that she did have a functioning vehicle, and thanked past Isa for having that smart idea. Honestly, Isolde has spent a ton of money driving her own car around. In the city you don’t need to go far and if you do, there’s always a train. Suddenly, their space was invaded by honestly the creepiest thing Isolde had ever laid eyes on…and she’d seen things; things not many could stomach.

“I…”

There were no words, Isolde was left speechless, looking this…person? up and down. The tail really made it, though. Isodle barely heard what Frank was saying until he nudged her. She looked up at him, mouth agape like she couldn’t believe her eyes. Knowing full well the human body, she could see that this was something either very strange or maybe…maybe today has been a dream?

“What are you?” she whispered, brows furrowed. Isa felt uneasy, sick even. The world spun and she took hold of Frank’s hand to steady herself. Was this happening? Was Frank really seeing it, too?

 

Temp:  “Broadway?” The name sounded very familiar to her. Whatever it was, it was probably mentioned in some movie that took place in this city. The man thought her to be part of whatever this ‘Broadway’ thing was, but she wasn’t sure how to best respond since she didn’t know what the hell it even was. “I’m not from this ‘Broadway’, but from Vasari…and I’ve come to visit you Humans.” Hopefully she wouldn’t cause any insult towards ‘Broadway’. Offending the Humans wasn’t something that she was hoping to accomplish. “I am Princess Xillia, and I hope to learn a great deal from you all.” She spoke softly and bowed towards the two humans, despite the clear ‘disgust’ that she sensed from the female. Why exactly the female looked at her and brewed such negative emotions was unknown to her, but it was upsetting nonetheless. Perhaps it had to do with her tail that they both seemed fixated on? “I…do you…desire to feel my tail?” She brought her tail forward and held it in front of her, then stepped a bit closer to the two humans with a nervous look on her face. Would letting them examine her tail make them feel better? Perhaps the male, but the female really didn’t seem to like her…sadly.

 

Razorbackwriter:  Frank cocked his head to the right. His brow creasing and yet he still had a crooked smile when the woman claimed not to be from Broadway, but a place called Vasari. And then….the kicker.

“…and I’ve come to visit you Humans.”

The detective blinked at this admission. The girl with the fluffy tail believed herself not to be human and that she was visiting. ~Right~ Now, Frank had met many that claimed to be all sorts of things in lock up; but none of them had a tail. Delusions brought about by drugs was common place, yet as Isa and Frank stood there, the cat girl if you could call her that went on to say that she was a Princess named Xillia and she hoped to learn from them. Not wanting to alarm the cat girl or make her panic with any sudden moves, Frank slowly turned his head toward Isa and then acted as this was all perfectly normal.

“We are in the company of royalty. In New York no less.”

Isa would be able to tell by his tone that he was being sarcastic, but in the same vein – polite. This girl needed to be treated carefully, if she was an escapee from a local mental institution. He was now considering taking her down town to see if they could find out her true identity, but that was the moment she offered her tail for a pat.

Frank glanced at the fluffy tail. It looked so soft. At that point, Frank glanced up and saw the nervousness in her face. The girl was frightened. The detective knew he had to treat her carefully. Moving ever slowly, he reached forward and then with the utmost care, stroked her tail. It was incredibly soft, and fluffy.

“Wow. Softer than minx.” Frank gave Isa a nudge. “Don’t be shy. Just…curtsy and have a feel.” He remembered the girl was royalty and he remembered his manners.

“I’m Detective Malone….Frank Malone.” The Detective bowed slightly, assuming it was the done thing. “And this is Isolde, she’s a scientist.”

Here was Frank, making introductions to an alien. If only he knew the truth.

~RB~

 

Chor:  There is nothing whatsoever weird about this meeting. Not at all. The sarcastic remark passed through her head after Frank spoke about this…woman being royalty. She had said she was a Princess, but from a place Isa had never heard of. Clearly this girl thought herself an alien…and boy did she look the part. Frank’s idea about a play or musical was a good one, but a convention is what came to Isolde’s mind. Suddenly, Frank suggested she curtsy. Was he mad? She looked incredulously at him, but when he nudged her, wrinkled her nose indignantly before displaying the most respectful curtsy she could manage in shorts that ever-threatened mutiny. When urged to pet the tail, Isa decided aginst it. If she began, it would not end there. Likely she would attempt to examine the creature completely. One thought plagued her mind continuously. Was the extended vertebrae protruding from the pelvis? Was this a real tail or some plastic, ‘furry’ illusion for good fun. Roleplaying was something people took very seriously…Frank only introduced her as a scientist, which was half correct, but it would suffice. She nodded curtly.

“Hallo; Isolde vonGoethe,” she spoke aloud, mouth forming what one might call a friendly smile but mostly looked like ‘I don’t know you, but you haven’t tried to kill me so I’ll be civil’.

“Hello Humans!” – GS.

 

With breakfast almost done, Frank and Isolde are about to make a move.  What is waiting for them out on the street?  Oh, you’ll never believe it.

Scene setting : Jax’s Coffee House

Co-written with Chor and Temp.

 

Chor:  Isolde felt a sort of release as she talked about herself. These were things even Khalil barely knew, which showed just how private and alone she kept. At the mention of the horse-back riding, a huge grin found itself to Frank’s lips, surprising Isa. What had she said? He spoke then, about his grandparents and their horse farm.

Her Aunt Scherze had a few horses, mostly unbroken save for Doof. Her aunt named the horse because it was clearly suffering from some sort of mental disorder, but it was the gentlest horse there and during her vacations to Germany Isa loved to ride the red roan appaloosa filly on cool Sunday mornings before Gran would drag them off to church, always complaining that Isolde smelled of manure. When Isa was eleven, she received a call saying that Doof had passed away. His brain had been riddled with cancer for many years and they thought it best to put him down rather than let him suffer any longer.

Isolde put food in her mouth so Frank didn’t seem like the only one eating. Really she was deep in thought until he spoke again, having finished his meal. She looked down to her half-eaten plate and back up, grinning. Her? A catch? The idea of it made her want to laugh, but she didn’t. A light blush had come over her cheeks and she pretended to wipe her bare lips to cover it.

“I would propose then…that you tie together all of these hideous hooded sweatshirts. T’would make a better net than a wardrobe in my opinion,” Isolde shot back to him, listening to him laugh at his little joke. She had not let it die liek he had probably intended. Finishing her meal in a couple more bites, Isolde went to her coffee, sipping it cautiously as it was still the slightest bit hot.

 

Razorbackwriter:  “Perhaps I could tie together the hoodies, but I can tell that you aren’t overly keen on them. Be more of a deterrent if anything.” This was said with absolute honesty. Why Frank even kept that box in the closet was a mystery, but he wasn’t one that tended to throw things away. Like his marriage. His behavior didn’t help him there, but if he had the chance all over Frank may have done things differently. Though, it was one way of finding out what his ex was truly like. It is the rough patches in marriage that test our love. If the foundation is weak to start with, it has no chance of lasting. Isa thankfully played along with Frank’s banter which only helped to create a more relaxing breakfast – from what had earlier been something out of a Jackass movie. You would honestly have to wonder if Frank knew anything about women at all by the way he acted. The real reason was more caution if anything. He wasn’t a player like Tommy. Frank was more one for keeps, if you could put up with his God awful puns and strange habits. The Frank that sat opposite Isa was a far cry from his youth. The young forensics officer might be surprised to know that back in the day Frank was a real risk taker and something of a rebel. How times and events shape and mold us.

Now that the pair were onto their coffee, the meals having being eaten; Frank took out his wallet and placed out a few notes to pay for their breakfast. He wouldn’t accept Isa paying her share, since he believed a man should pay for the woman when dining out.

Stuffing his wallet back into his jacket, Frank mused on what Tommy was up to. No call back. The detective hoped he was okay. Elissa too. Maybe they should pay her a visit, to check on her shoulder.

“Fancy going over to El’s?”

Course Isa would know he meant Elissa. Frank still felt terribly responsible for her injuries. The girl didn’t deserve what happened.

~RB~

 

Chor:  
Isolde laughed at his reply to her suggestion.

“Ja, I’d likely asphyxiate on the fabric from being surrounded by such hideously over-bright colours,” she replied, still chuckling as she took one last sip from her coffee. As he placed the money for the check, Isa frowned. He’s already spent an awful lot on her and she can tell he’s suffering from some financial hardship, so while she is not it feels wrong to let him pay.

“That sounds fine to me,” Elissa said with a shrug, but also looking down at how guilty her outfit would look. Actually? Fuck it; she doesn’t live for what anyone else thinks. She gestured for them to go with a smile as the waitress cleaned their table behind them. As they walked out, she secretly slipped enough cash in bills to cover her meal cost into his pocket. You learn all sorts of things living in the city. Suddenly, as if a cloud had lifted, a thought came to Isa. How in hell could she have forgotten?

“You know I’ve got a car, right?” she asked him, wondering. She bought the car immediately after school and has had it ever since. It was currently sitting in the parking garage near the station. They needn’t take a cab everywhere. She didn’t really mind it, but it would certainly save some cash in their wallets from the stingy cabbies of New York.

 

Temp:  Xillia had moved from Times Square, venturing further into the city completely aimlessly. There wasn’t much that she wanted to do at the moment other than explore her surroundings. Studying the humans that inhabited the planet would be something she did along the way. There would likely be all sorts of different opportunities to do so, considering how many of them there were. She had already managed to gather quite a crowd, most of which was continuing to follow her through the streets.

Eventually she wound up in an area she’d never really seen before. The only references to places she had were things from movies and pictures, which she had acquired on her home world. Even though she was lost, she really hadn’t decided on any one destination, so it meant little to her. What did meant a lot to her was greeting every human she saw. Being such a tall creature had it’s advantages, especially when you were looking for things smaller than you. She spotted two humans near what seemed to be a restaurant, which she then started to walk towards. As soon as she was close to the two, she offered them both a happy wave and a bright smile.“Hello humans! Your planet is wonderful!” Was that the kind of compliment that would appeal to them? Who knows.

 

What is love? – GS.

Tattoos that tell a story.  Frank learns more about his friend, Isolde.

Scene setting :  Jax’s Coffee House – GS.

Co-written with Chor.

Chor: Isolde nodded her head, thinking of low, low times in her life. Isolde just happened to be in the right place at the right time to save Frank, but Isolde had no one but Khalil, who practically dragged the ambulance to her apartment. The kid knew she wasn’t right and he saw where she was headed, but if he had been just ten minutes later, it would have been too late. His hand came to rest over hers and she looked at it, goosebumps crawling up her sleeved arm , over her clavicle and up her neck, where the baby hairs in the back raised. His thumb caressed her hand as he took it into his. She focused a bit, making sure he didn’t flip the hand over; view the wrist. Suddenly, he withdrew, and she looked up at the waitress, blinking.

Finally, her meal arrived and she pulled her napkin into her lap; wouldn’t want to ruin such lovely shorts with a blackberry stain. Frank’s meal had not yet arrived and she refused to eat, despite his urgings about it ‘getting cold’. Patience is a virtue. Her mother would have rolled in her grave if she’d begun eating. The thought made her grin. She poured a little cream in her coffee, then a literal ton of sugar. She liked coffee’s effects, but not the taste. She drank a lot of coffee as a youngster, but only because her family couldn’t afford it for years until the market went down, so then they drank it religiously.

“In my family, we do not eat until everyone has been served,” she said politely, not wanting to make Frank upset because clearly he was just trying to make her happy. Isa appreciated this fully; it was more than anyone else ever tried to do. He mentioned the tattoos then and her face changed. She’d totally forgotten, wrapped up in her outfit of something that wasn’t quite choice.

“Ah, well. If I had a shirt on under this, I’d likely pull this off to show you, but you’ve seen quite a bit of it already,” she said, rubbing her neck, “but it’s a poem in Hebrew:

In the merciful time, at twilight,
Bow your head and I’ll reveal,
the secret of my torments:
They say there is youth in the world-
Where is my youth?

And another secret I will confess:
My soul has been seared by a flame;
They say there is love in the world-
What is love?”

Razorbackwriter:  Watching Isa as she mentioned that in her family it was tradition to wait until all plates were on the table had Frank taken off guard slightly. He honestly thought that he was being polite in asking her to go ahead and start. Thankfully, one of the waitresses brought over Frank’s order – placing the eggs benedict down before him as he whipped a napkin out from under his cutlery and draped it across his lap. Well, I have mine now so..”

Conversation went back onto the strange markings that ran up and down Isa’s legs. She mentioned that had it not been for the fact she was only wearing the hoody as a top, that she could show him the extent of the markings. Truth be told, he got a good eyeful back at the apartment when she was hunting for a towel. Frank toyed with his fork as he listened to the poem, which is what the markings represented in hebrew. This was the first that Frank had ever heard of someone having an entire poem tattooed on their body. Made a change from the usual fare, of flowers, butterflies and ex girlfriend’s names.

Cutting into his toast and then dipping it into the holanaise sauce, Frank nodded as he was deeply impressed. “Must have been hell getting it done.” Frank clearly was not a fan of the tattooist needle. He then popped the toast into his mouth and chewed heartily – thankfully with his mouth closed. Frank had excellent table manners around the ladies. With the guys, well that was another story.

“You know, Tommy Elissa and me were here just the other night. Mhm. We were running on adrenaline, I can tell you.”This was before the shooting….right before. Funny how Frank had ended back there again for breakfast. To be honest, Frank didn’t mind. His cooking left a lot to be desired, plus his pantry was not exactly packed with choice ingredients. Like many it was simply easier and more enjoyable to eat out.

Frank took another mouthful, this time with egg and bacon on his fork. You could tell he had an appetite, but still tried to make interesting conversation. Placing down his cutlery, he reached for his cup of coffee and then took a sip. Amazing how coffee just perked him right up.

“So what do you do…for fun? Away from the lab, I mean.”

And here come the questions.

~RB~

Chor:  “Oh, gute,” she said, her ‘gute’ a sort of German-American mixture of the word. Old habits die hard.

Isolde smiled at Frank, lifting her own cutlery to cut her crepe as he settled the napkin upon his lap. The first bite was utter euphoria and Isa’s mouth and stomach reveled that finally she was eating real, delicious, and nutritious food. Truth be told, the last time she’d had crepes was the morning before Claura’s disappearance. She’d sung silly tines their grandmother taught them as she cooked the German crepes and wrapped in them the redcurrant jam. Isolde used to remember that as the last happy day she’d ever have. Of course, who could have predicted that yesterday could have changed her so fully. She took another bite as Frank went on about the tattoo. A shrug moved in her shoulders. It wasn’t painful to her, who has a pretty high pain tolerance; and in fact -though she won’t likely ever admit it- she actually enjoyed it. She felt as if she deserved the pain.

At the mention of Tommy – that must be the reporter- and Elissa – who must be the woman- Isa again wondered if they were alright. Frank really ought to call his friends back. He surprised her then, with a question about what she did outside of the lab. This was going to be an awkward answer, since all she truly did was work in the lab, then take cat naps and eat vending machine food. She should tell him about before her small, abysmal life began.

“Well, I’ve really been lacking there lately, but I’m also employed at the American Museum of Natural History in the Forensic Anthropology department. I used to do studies, demonstrations, and tours and all that. Mainly. I did a lot of casework, working on specific bodies we’d get in. I also used to play in the symphony. Strings; cello mostly, but a little violin or viola occasionally. I mean, I’m no master at it, so second seat was pretty exciting for me. Before…I used to ride horses often. There’s something about them that’s so elegant and just altogether they’re just magnificent beasts to interact with.”

That was the end of her spiel. She didn’t really do much aside from work after school started. She figured she had to dive head first to pay off her loans, but as soon as that was done she still remained deeply buried into the workplaces. Her friends from school all lived close and they would often meet to hang out, but after Claura she pretty much dropped everything.

Razorbackwriter;  Some of us find it hard to get time to have any kind of life outside our working hours. Frank’s used to revolve around his son, but of course when his ex took him away that left Frank with little to do but drink and spend his waking hours at home studying the wall. The wall being the one in his home office with the trails to nowhere on Rory’s death. Some nights he wouldn’t even sleep. Just sitting in his old leather chair and rock back and forth slowly. His mind going over that night again and again till the first rays of light would filter through to the office. Not much of an existence.

Frank ate heartily as Isa told him all of her life away from work which was a darn sight more interesting then his own story. Nodding at appropriate times and only placing his cutlery down to replace them with his cup of coffee, he was genuinely interested. She was also employed at the American museum of Natural History A role that Frank was sure was of some importance. Is was also into music. Playing the cello – as well as a little violin. Frank smiled at the mention that she was second seat in the symphony, which meant she must be good.

The last part however brought a big smile from Frank, she used to ride horses. Why you might wonder this brought such a reaction was due to the fact it triggered a memory of just how much his ex hated them. Whenever there was a parade and the police horses came along, his ex put on such a performance it was a wonder people didn’t throw down money in front of her. Drama Queen.

“I couldn’t agree more. Majestic and beautiful creatures. I haven’t ridden though since my teens. My parents used to send me out to the Grandparents farm some holidays and that is where I learnt to ride.” Course he couldn’t go near horses after Missy reacted to them so badly. Much to his Grandparents disappointment. He hadn’t been able to go visit with his son, thanks to Missy. How he hated the woman.

Frank placed his cutlery down on his cleaned plate with a clink, before picking up his napkin and dabbing his lips.

“I enjoyed that. You know, you are a very interesting woman, Isa. You’d make quite the catch. If only I had a net.” At this he laughed at his own poor joke. Such a sad sack.

“Enjoying those crepes?”

~RB~

 

 

Old Scars – GS.

Breakfast is always better when someone else makes it.  Frank and Isa are about to enjoy the delights of Jax’s Coffee house.

Scene setting : Jax’s Coffee House.

Co-written with Chor.

 

Razorbackwriter:  Pulling the door open for Isa, Frank peeked inside to see how bad the crowd was this morning. Thankfully, Jax’s was about half full which meant that they would easily get a table and the wait would not be all that long. Following Isa in, Frank stared down at those white shorts. The tell tale showing of Isa’s panties, which Frank had seen earlier gave the detective reason to smile. He had acted like a total goof when she emerged from the bathroom looking for towels. Thankfully, Frank felt that Isa would have forgotten about all that by now. The welcoming aroma of freshly roasted coffee beans invigorating the senses.

Seeing a table free, Frank ushered Isa towards it and then pulled out a chair for her, just as you would expect a gentleman to do. “This is so much better than sharing a bowl of cornflakes and stale milk at my place.” Waiting for Isa to get comfortable, Frank moved to the opposite side of the table and took a chair, reaching for the menu. He knew one thing. Frank needed a large cup of coffee, and then he would see what took his fancy on the menu.

On the way over, the conversation had been light. Mainly about how his little boy loved to play soccer on Saturdays. Much of the time, Frank was working, so he had missed many of his son’s matches – much to his own disappointment. In all honesty, Frank didn’t feel like he had been a great father to his son. So much of his important milestones had been missed, and all because of the job. It made him wonder if having kids was such a good idea in the first place, but his son was an accident. Do you tell your child such a thing? No. Well, you shouldn’t. Frank tried to hide the sadness of how he missed his little boy, but his ex had made sure that Frank would never get custody or visitation. All Frank had was a handful of photographs, and one small soccer shirt. Maybe one day, when his son was old enough he would seek Frank out. Or would it be too late? Missy had remarried and the guy was a writer with plenty of time at home to be there for Frank’s son. How easy it was to be replaced.

Taking up the menu, Frank held it up and whistled.

“Eggs Benedict. My favorite.” Frank had already made up his mind.

“See anything you fancy?” This was asked as a waitress approached their table, tablet in hand ready to take their order.

~RB~

 

Chor:  Isolde was a little hesitant to enter the restaurant, because just in stepping from the cab she’d already had enough looks – mostly at her backside- for the morning. The woman braved it, though, and allowed Frank to kindly open the door for her to enter. Her escort immediately found them a table and gladly sat down in the chair he’d retrieved. The whole place was aflutter with quiet chatter and Isa caught conversations here and there. She was not really listening in, but when the ebb and flow of the words came like a wave; there was only one conversation left to hear and she couldn’t do anything to stop it. Isa had barely even glanced at the menu, but had mostly made her mind up on the way that she would have waffles.

“Be careful what you wish for: I survived my childhood eating muesli every day,” Isa joked, though it was true. In the dark, quiet mornings as her family sat around the worn wooden table eating their typical German breakfast, Isa would have killed for cornflakes. The thought of that made a smile curve her lips. Suddenly, Isa’s eyes caught something on the menu. Crepes. Oh god, that was it. Her waffle-filled morning had come to an end. It would be crepes with black berry jam and she decided this all before Frank even uttered a word. When the waitress appeared, she looked to her with a light smile.

“guten Morgen,” she said, then closed her menu and placed it to the side, “I’ll have the crepes, with blackberry jam…or preserves, whichever you’ve got? And coffee; one cream and…well, I suppose if you can bring me the sugar it’ll be easier.”

 

Razorbackwriter:  It was nice to listen to Isa speak with that slight accent that Frank had not really picked up on before. Easing back in his chair, as he went over the menu he only lifted his eyes away from it to watch Isa give her over to the barista. “No waffles?’ Frank was a little surprised that Isa had changed her mind so quickly, but obviously she preferred the idea of crepes that morning instead, now that she saw the full range of breakfasts offered on the menu. The waitress took down both their orders and spun on her heel – quickly away to go and get their breakfasts started. Frank had to admit, the service was great. Placing the menu back in the holder, Frank couldn’t help but say something about those white shorts.

“Amazing how you are the same size as my ex. Those shorts are pretty…uhm…”Thankfully he stopped himself before he made a massive gaff. “….nice.” He let out an loud exhale of breathe followed by a smile as he decided to change tact. “You really stuck your neck out for me, you know. The Commander has probably been at the station all night.” The meaning behind this statement was that Commander Bracks was probably destroying her computer files and anything incriminating on it. It was a fair bet that he had people that owed him favors around the office. Some people got promotions that they didn’t earn. Not by performance results, anyways. It was troubling, to say the least.

Remembering his cellphone, he took it out from his pocket and then placed it on the table in front of him. “Tommy messaged me. Sounded mad as fuck.” Frank ticked his head a little to the left, remembering what state he had been in the night before. Frank toyed with the phone for a moment, almost too nervous to call Tommy back.

“I really do owe you one, Isa. You pretty much saved my life.”

Did she understand the gravity of his words? Truth be told though. Frank was not out of the woods yet. There were people out there with objectives. Dishonest and clever people. Frank was a pawn that many wanted seen taken off the board.

~RB~

 

Chor:  Isolde wiggled in her chair. Funny he should mention the shorts; they weren’t the same size, as Isa’s hips definitely did not lie about how these white atrocities were, but enough where she wasn’t bursting at the seams.

“Nice isn’t the word I’d use, but ja, they’re…int’resting, to say the least.”

The way he said it though, she knew he’d jsut stopped himself from saying something very, very different. The way he attempted to change the subject had her laughing on the inside, then what he said had her truly laughing. Bracks? Do work?

“Yeah, that’s not likely. That fat pig probably slept like a baby with his new wife while his dirty lackeys did his job for him…” Isa nearly spat, just thinking about the Commander putting her off a bit. She had a particular bone to pick with that man, and not just because of the situation with Frank or just his shitty human being status in general. There was far more history between the two that Isa hadn’t divulged on yet. She’d hoped she’d never have to, but eventually someone has to know. Especially now that Claura’s files have gone missing. Isolde rubbed her leg where a few symbols could be seen, sighing. So much to do, yet she just wanted to enjoy the happiness she was truly feeling here with Frank. She could only imagine the sight of her office, her lab, maybe even her apartment? At the mention of Frank’s friends, Isa felt guilty for forgetting about them. The poor woman who’d been shot and the other man…the reporter? She hoped they fared well. Isolde was caught off guard by Frank’s words and the utter sincerity of them. Blinking, she looked to his eyes.

“I was only doing what I wish someone had done for me,” she said a little sheepishly. Old scars, reminders of those days when she hadn’t had anyone to tell her that it would be okay, burned on her wrists.

 

Razorbackwriter:  Isa’s laughter was infectious and of course the way that she described Commander Bracks had chuckle. Frank would have laughed a bit louder save for the fact that what Isa said was pretty spot on. He was a disgusting pig of a man, and you had to feel sorry for the woman that he went home to at night. There was just something not quite right about the man. Frank couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but Bracks had a sinister streak. The kind of guy that gained pleasure from torturing animals. Just the mental picture of him sleeping as Isa said made Frank shudder. Frank tapped the table twice with his open palm and then said “Enough about him, okay? Wouldn’t want to ruin your breakfast.” Yes, a change in conversation was a top idea and of course when Frank had said that he was grateful for Isa for everything she had done for him, he softened when she said that she was doing what she had hoped someone had done for her.“Really?”

Frank’s brow knitted slightly as he reached across the table to take her hand. He remembered her placing down a white rose as a symbol for the one she lost – Claura. That was her name, Frank thought. Frank’s thumb moved delicately across the top of Isa’s hand as he was about to ask about Claura, when the waitress brought over the crepes with blackberry jam as well as some cutlery. It sure did look good. Frank knew it was time to pull his hand away. “Don’t want it getting cold, now.” A simple nod and he gestured for her to eat as he waited for his meal to be brought out. A cup of coffee was placed down and filled by the barista and he thanked her kindly, before looking back at Isa.

“This is nice.” Frank, the King of small talk. If he could though, Frank could talk underwater when the mood was right. In this instance, the detective was wanting to ensure that Isolde enjoyed her breakfast. He took up his coffee cup and blew on it gently, then took a sip before placing the cup back down in the saucer with a gentle clink.

“You never did tell me about those tattoos.”

~RB~

Little white shorts – GS.

 

Gantz series.

Scene setting : Detective Frank Malone’s apartment.

Co-written with Chor.

 

Chor:  After probably the most enjoyable shower Isa as experienced in awhile, she stepped out of the shower onto the plush rug – which was immediately soaked by her dripping body- and pulled a towel around herself.

“Shit,” she whispered. She really was not on her game this morning, as she had also forgotten that the clothes were in Frank’s bedroom. She decided on not bringing further attention to her idiocy and settling at the moment for brushing her teeth. At least three times. Finally, with the stench of the ghost of garlic of nights past gone, she pulled the towel tighter around herself, which was simple on account of there being little for her to actually cover, and opened the door a crack. Frank was in the kitchen and not paying attention. See, Isolde saw her underwear and bra as just articles of clothing, nothing too sexual or important about them. That probably stemmed from being with her sister, who came home in lingerie most mornings. Isolde tiptoed to his room while Frank was turned around and closed the door behind her.

“Okay, back of the closet,” Isolde said to herself. She opened the blinded door and peer to the back of the dark space to see a box nearly overflowing with clothing Isa knew could not be Frank’s. She dragged it out with great difficulty on account of how much was actually in it. Oh my god. Isolde nearly snorted when she lifted out the contents. The box was teeming with white shorts and hoodies of every neon colour imaginable and…dear lord they all read “Malone 02” on the back. Soccer mom, how did Isa not guess it. She honestly couldn’t imagine Frank with someone who owned this many pairs of white shorts. Isolde couldn’t imagine how many more pairs the woman had that she was able to leave so many behind. How many monogrammed hoodies can one woman own?

Isolde snapped on her bra and then pulled over it an orange hoodie that didn’t have all the same vibrancy as the others – likely because of multiple washes in city water- sighing, as if the colour burned her eyes. Then came the shorts, through which her underwear were absolutely viewable. Shoving the box back to its hiding place where she hoped to never see it again, Isa exited the room, face slightly wrinkled, cringing like she was wearing some sort of clown suit.

 

Razorbackwriter:  Frank had been toying with his cellphone while trying to come up with an appropriate message to send to Tommy. It was not surprising that the reporter would send him such a text. They had been friends a long time and Tommy could easily pick when Frank was at his lowest. It was one of the things that made their friendship what it was.

Hearing the continual running of the water from the shower, Frank deducted that Isa was really enjoying it. Thankfully they weren’t on rationed water supplies, as that could have put a dampener on her morning ritual. Clothes. Now that was going to be interesting to see. When Frank had placed the large box of his ex’s clothes in the back of his closet, he had completely forgotten what was in it. Trust Missy to leave behind all her soccer hoodies and those numerous pairs of white shorts. It was only when Isa emerged in the pumpkin colored hoody did Frank have that sudden flashback. One thing though, Isa looked amazing in those white shorts. A hell of a lot better than Missy ever did.

Seeing the wrinkled facial expression showing that Isa wasn’t exactly sold on the look she was wearing, Frank tried his darnedest to cheer her up.

“Hey, Isa. You look great!” At least she wasn’t wearing the neon hoody. Those stood out worse than a construction worker on his night shift. Tommy gave a small thumbs up, before reaching for his wallet and keys. His phone was now safely tucked back into his jacket.

“Fancy going to Jax’s coffee house for breakfast. I happen to know they do great waffles.”

Frank was hopeful that Isa would agree to his idea, since it was his favorite place now for coffee – which he badly needed. Realizing he needed to freshen up first, he patted Isa’s arm as he shot past her into the bathroom.

“Give us five minutes, would you?”

In the bathroom, Frank splashed his face with cold water, before patting it dry and then grabbing his tooth brush to brush his teeth. Curry breath and all that.

Re emerging, Frank showed Isa to the door.

“I’ll text Tommy when we get there. Say….do you like soccer?”

 

~RB~

 

Chor:  It was kind of Frank to tell Isolde she looked great, when in reality she knew she looked nearly ridiculous. The shorts were tight beyond belief; how did this woman even have a child with such narrow hips? Isa was swimming in the hoodie however, the fit so loose the only way for her to function her arms was to roll the sleeves to her elbow.

“Thanks,” she uttered with a disbelieving nod. Of course, it could be worse…probably? Okay, maybe not. The hot mess that stood listen to Frank mention a little coffee house for breakfast smiled to herself. Two meals in less than 48 hours? This would have to be a new record. They’d better alert the media; write it into the calendar…

“Sounds great to me. Can’t say no to waffles.”

Isa wouldn’t argue. Waffles happened to be her favorite breakfast food, aside from cheese-eggs, but she could only eat the eggs if she made them. Everyone else seemed to cook them too long or with not enough milk and cream. Thinking about it, Isa reminded herself that she should probably pick up milk and eggs when she got a chance. Maybe even bread. Frank darted past her to use the restroom and she blinked a wide blink, as though she’d gotten whiplash from the fast movement. When he’d emerged, Frank was a new person. Fresh and ready for the day. Jeez, how is it he didn’t even have to try to look handsome? This made Isa’s predicament a little more sour. At the mention of soccer, her jaw dropped with a grin. Really?

“Oh, yeah, love it,” she replied sarcastically with a little chuckle as she grabbed her clothes, wadded them into a ball, and followed him out.

 

Detective Klutz – GS.

 

Scene setting:  Detective Frank Malone’s apartment.

co-written with Chor.

 

Razorbackwriter:  The silence of the morning was broken by a strange yelp that came from Frank’s bedroom Rousing slightly at the sound, Frank pushed off the blanket that he had used after spending a night on the couch, and stood up – stretching slightly as he had a bit of a sore back. The rustling from in his room would have to be Isa waking up. Raking back his disheveled hair, Frank started for the bedroom door, only stopping to knock lightly.

“Morning Isa.”

Knowing she had been put to bed in her own clothes, Frank knew that she would probably want to shower and change. “There is a box of clothes in the closet, left behind by my ex wife, if you are looking for something to change into.”

Not wanting to disturb Isa further he added; “I’ll start breakfast, alright?”

Frank continued to stretch his arms and then roll his shoulders as he headed into the kitchen. Opening the fridge, he leaned on the door and sighed at the contents. A carton of milk, a block of cheese that had probably seen better days, and of course left over curry. Isa probably didn’t want another curry, especially for breakfast. Thinking the worst of the situation, Frank then spotted a box of corn flakes in the cupboard and pulled that out, placing it on the counter. It wasn’t going to be much of a breakfast, but it was better than nothing.

~RB~

 

Chor:  Isa was actually startled by Frank’s voice, momentarily running through mazes inside her head.

“Morning,” she called back, her normally dark and chocolatey voice creaking as it usually does just after she wakes up. Isolde, still groggy, barely comprehended anything the man said, but did latch onto one phrase. Ex wife. The guilt that had started earlier to build inside her began to melt away. She’d seen the photo of Frank’s son, but didn’t know anything about a wife and honestly hoped she hadn’t just slept in another woman’s bed. Whatever sad, scary wall Frank had built up after Rory’s death is likely what drove her away. Isa knew what that could be like. She no longer had the friends she’d kept from school and even Khalil has distanced himself since Claura’s disappearance.

The rest of Frank’s statement came later, when she’d thought long and hard about last night. Changing sounded fabulous, but a shower sounded infinitely better. Isolde, hoping Frank would not mind, tiptoed in her disheveled state to his bathroom and began to run the water. She was always a scalding hot shower kind of girl. Disrobed save for her undergarments, Isolde turned to find that there was not a single towel in the bathroom. Oy vey. Too tired to really think it through, she pulled her unbuttoned top on haphazardly and went out of the room.

“There’s no towels in there,” she said, pointing back to his restroom. The water could be heard running and she looked straight at him, as if she didn’t even notice she was barely clothed. It wasn’t that Isa was immodest, she just didn’t consider clothing to be of much import. This is the body science gave her and though she may mistreat it, she is not ashamed of it. All of the symbols running lines over her body could be seen now as she waited for him to direct her to where she might find a linen closet of sorts…or if he just had a towel somewhere. Her gently malnourished body was not fit, but soft in the places where she still held weight. She didn’t do much exercise, but possessed a petite waist, enough breast to keep people believing she truly was a woman, and child-bearing hips to follow.

 

Razorbackwriter:  Ever seen a startled deer? Or a possum that had been struck by the headlights of an oncoming truck? Well, if you can imagine that, then that was very much the look of surprise that was on Frank’s face when he turned – box of cereal in hand to see Isa in…well…next to nothing. She spoke….she did. Something about towels. It wasn’t registering in Frank’s mind cause at this moment he was too busy oogling at Isa.“Uhmmm…what?”

The sound of the shower running in the background was a clue. A big clue. Frank was supposed to be a detective and yet here he was completely and utterly lost. A few blinks and a rub of his right eye with a closed fist, he finally understood what Isa was trying to convey. There were no towels in the bathroom.

“Towels? Towels…yes, I have towels.” Was he dumb? Frank sure appeared to be that way. Not bothering to look at what he was doing, he let go of the box of cereal that SHOULD have landed on the counter, but instead hit the floor – sending cornflakes flying.

Frank hurried to get to the linen cupboard where he kept a few towels and sheets, pulling the door open so hard he hit himself with it. Again, all due to seeing Isa in a state of undress. ~BANG~ “Owww!” Frank staggered back a bit, clutching the door with one hand. Now with a red welt on his temple, he stepped back and quickly found a couple of towels. Presenting them to Isa whilst trying to keep his eyes up to hers, instead of going lower….where most men seem to like to look.

“They’re clean, I swear.” Yes, they were clean. He only used two towels himself, one was either on the floor, the other in the hamper. These were guest towels. You could tell they were practically new, since he rarely had guests. The next question was obvious. “Need a toothbrush?” Frank was a little sheepish. You’d think he had never had a woman in his apartment before. Truth was, he hadn’t entertained anyone, cept Tommy for the football.

“There is a spare under the vanity.”

At this point, his eyes did betray him as they went to the strange markings that ran up and down her body, and being Frank, he had to ask. “Uhm..what are those marks? Are they some kind of tattoo?”

~RB~

 

Chor:  

Do I Wanna Know?

–

Isolde’s brows furrowed in utter confusion when Frank started mumbling and bustling about. He was acting so very strange, as if he’s never even seen a woman naked. Unless his song was born via immaculate conception, she highly doubted that to be the truth. The cornflake box fell to the ground with a crack! and Isa jumped a bit. There was cereal littering the floor and Isa bit her lip for just a moment, imagining that was their breakfast. It was quite alright, though. There was plenty to eat in this city.

“Yes, towels,” Isa repeated, following him to the closet and watching while he took out the linens she required. They were clean, as he stated, and she gladly took them into her arms. A toothbrush sounded wondrous at the moment, though she hoped he wasn’t suggesting because of her rancid garlic morning breath. That was the only regret from the night previous. It was a good change, however, to find that he respected her. While many a male would take advantage of her state, Frank- it seemed- forced himself to lock onto her eyes. She hadn’t noticed him injure himself, but she saw the redness spreading on his temple. The smallest amount of skin had broken and only a drop of blood had surfaced and immediately dried.

Isolde set her towels at the edge of the sink and opened the medicine cabinet. In it she grabbed the ripped, dirty, and fraying box of butterfly strips and pulled one out. There was the tiniest bit of alcohol in the brown bottle on the topmost shelf and she poured it onto a cottonswab and made her way back to Frank.

“I’m sure you know this is going to sting,” she whispered, touching it to his temple. This really wasn’t even necessary. She didn’t like to see him hurt, though, and practicing medicine is about all she does know how to do. With the blood cleaned from his head, she adhered the strip to his temple and used her index finger to gently ensure it stuck. Then, to the fridge, where inside she found a half-full tray of ice cubes and twisted them in two layers of paper towels. It would do as a make-shift ice pack, she supposed. Depositing this item into his hand, she took his hand in hers and dragged it up to his head and held it there only a moment before she went to stand in the middle of the kitchen, scouring the room like a hawk for something. But what?

“Aha,” Isolde spoke with a successful grin. The short broom and accompanying dust pan lay in the corner of the room. She bent to retrieve them, then once she’d found herself at the scene of the cereal mess, she bent again to sweep the flakes with the small brush. It was a quick job and when she was done she deposited the last remnants of the corn flake box into the trash and wiped her hands. Time for a shower. He asked about her markings and Isolde was prepared to tell him, but first she needed to make herself presentable.

“Tell you in a minute.”

Isolde padded lightly back to the bathroom then and closed the door, hopping immediately in the hot shower.  

Razorbackwriter:  It wasn’t the fact that Frank had never seen a woman naked before. He had…many times. The thing was he was not expecting to see Isa parade around in a near naked state. Usually a woman would be more at ease to walk around in just their smalls if they had been intimate. That was not the case. Truth was, Frank respected Isa a great deal and was not the kind of guy to put the hard word on, or take advantage of a lady. Call him old fashioned, or just a guy with high morals; Frank was not your average bloke. This was the reason for his bizarre antics. The dropping of the cereal, the banging of his head on the cupboard door. Had it been Tommy, well things would have been a hell of a lot different.

The pain of hitting his head was subdued by the rise of embarrassment that he was feeling at being such a klutz in Isa’s company. But what surprised him more than anything was how Isa set to fix the damage he had done. Not just to himself but also the mess in the kitchen. He hesitantly touched the sore spot on his temple and saw the small amount of blood that had come from a cut. Frank mumbled that it was nothing, but that didn’t stop Isa from wanting to nurse him – by dabbing his wound with alcohol, then applying the butterfly strips. Just after that, she then fixed an ice pack, which had Frank wonder just how bad he donged himself. “Really…I’m fine.” Course, she knew better and the relief that Frank felt from the pressure of the cold pack was evident by the expression on his face. Having her guide his hand with the ice pack up to his head brought a small smile. If you can’t beat them, join them, the saying goes and Frank went with the programme.

His question however about the strange markings on her sides was answered with a simple statement that she would tell him in a minute, before disappearing into the bathroom and closing the door behind her.

Frank just stood there with his hand pressing the ice pack to his temple. What just happened?

Breakfast was now in the dustbin since he had dropped the box of cereal on the floor. There was nothing else in his fridge that could be considered the makings of a good and healthy breakfast, so Frank decided as soon as Isa was dressed, that he would take her to a decent cafe instead. There was an abundance of places to take her and all in walking distance. Besides, he made a lousy cup of coffee.

The lump on his temple was starting to shrink, thanks to the ice trick and he soon set the ice pack in the sink. Frank reached for a cloth and wiped the damp spot on his head, before taking in the fact he needed to get dressed himself. His hair was a mess and his clothes slept in.

Walking back to the lounge, he noticed his cell phone was flashing on the coffee table. Reaching to pick it up, he saw there were a couple of messages….and one was from Tommy. Playing it back, Frank grimaced. Obviously Tommy was worried about what Frank was doing, or going to do. Course, Isa had saved him from that. Frank thought for a moment. It was still a bit early, and he wasn’t sure if he should message Tommy back or not. God knows what he had gotten up to the night before.

 

~RB~

 

 

 

Happy Memories – GS.

 

Scene setting : Detective Frank Malone’s Apartment.

co-written with Chor.

 

Chor:  The knock at the door was almost a relief. The silence and painful small-talk that went between them was awful. It was like watching people trying to pronounce words incredibly wrong or babies trying to walk for the first time. As the food entered the apartment, Isa knew the first thing she was going to do was eat. Then she could assess and conquer the situation. At the very mention of the food, she didn’t waste any time coming to where Frank had laid out the food. She pushed her slightly loose buttoned sleeves up to her elbow, showing more of the strange markings running from where her wrist met her palm to the crook of her elbow. They were so old news to her that she barely even noticed the black marks anymore.

“Wow, this all looks amazing,” Isa spoke aloud, though it was mainly to herself. She was getting slowly more comfortable. Not knowing just what she wanted, she took a bit of everything, but mostly she helped herself to the bread. For someone who doesn’t eat much, Isolde loves garlic. She supposes it’s some cosmic proof – or maybe a joke- that she’s not a vampire, despite her looks.

Isolde was just a few steps behind Frank as she took up her plate and went back to where they would watch the movie. The previews, which she was intensely uninterested in, played in the background as she settled on the couch, bare feet tucking to her left underneath her as she balanced her food on her lap expertly. On hand holding her beer, Isa raised it to Franks.

“To Claura,” she said, nodding to acknowledge Rory and her sister before taking a swig.

 

Razorbackwriter:  Frank made sure to tap his beer can against Isa’s as she said the name of the person she wished to toast. Both took a swig of their beers right after. Frank took quite a large mouthful of beer, before letting out a loud belch. It wasn’t intended to happen, it just kinda did. Frank looked a bit sheepish and placed the beer can down on the coffee table, taking up his plate and then easing back into a more comfortable position on the couch. With one eye on the TV screen, Frank happened to notice that Isa had taken a liking to the naan. It was then he remembered it was garlic naan, and this caused him to let out a chuckle.

“Gotta love a girl that is game to eat garlic.”

He didn’t mean to sound rude, but it may have come off as such. Realizing his gaffe, he then started to recant a story about one night where he had been on a double date. It was back while he was still married, and of course the focus of the story was on his male counterpart – Rory.

“Ever been to Giano’s pizzeria palace? No? Well, one night four of us went down there and it was the night I learnt that my mate Rory loved garlic. Man, he had garlic on just about everything. Every course. I can remember his girlfriend.”At this point Frank’s eyes started to water, as though he had remembered something terribly funny. “Rory used to give her dutch ovens. Man…that night. I heard she ended up sending him to the couch. Ahaha. He totally reeked.”

By now, the movie had started, and Frank was belly laughing at the memory of that wild night with his dear friend who stunk of garlic.

“Was coming out of his pores and everything.”

~RB~

 

Chor:  After Isa’s sip,she was nearly scared to death by Frank’s burp. She turned to him, hand covering the stupid grin on her mouth. Because of a dysfunctional belch reflex, Isa has never been able to burp. She envied those who could and found burping quite hilarious.

“Yeah, you’d think I’m Italian instead of German the way I inhale this stuff…” Isa said, chewing off and swallowing another bite with a sip of her beer. Isa listened to Frank and simultaneously had her eyes on the screen for the movie to begin while his story was told. The story was personal, and quite frankly hilarious. Now it seemed they both were stepped from their comfort zones, baring souls and telling embarrassing stories. As the movie began, the story ended, but Isolde was still laughing. Frank had an infectious chuckle and you couldn’t just sit there and let him laugh alone. Is knew of the garlic pores. When she still lived with Claura, the two would eat Pasta Margherita at least twice a week and would have to spend the night locked in their rooms away from each other, using copious amounts of industrial strength mouthwash.

Soon after the movie began, whether it was the beer the tryptophan in her system from all the food she could not stop eating, it had caused her to become drowsy. She blinked a couple of times, trying to focus on an honestly confusing and sad movie, but mostly found herself unable to. Eventually, she couldn’t keep her body upright and gently slid into a comfortable sleep, her body surprised she made it through that much of the film.

 

Razorbackwriter:  Isolde had the most beautiful laugh, and thankfully she didn’t find Frank’ story to be rude. She knew how garlic affected some people and she happily joined in even with the movie starting in the background. Frank had to wipe away the tears of laughter with one of the napkins provided with their curry meal. It felt so good to be able to laugh at something so trivial, especially about Rory. A happy memory in amongst so many that were sad.

Whatever tension there was before, had now abaited and the pair were able to enjoy the movie as it got going, whilst eating the curry from that random curry house suggested by the singing cabby. It really was a great meal, and Frank noticed that Isa had taken to it with relish. A gusto that could have been brought on by the beer possibly. Frank finished off his plate, using a piece of naan to scrape up the last traces of curry, while Isa seemed to be focused on the move. Or was she? Taking their plates, he was about to say he would wash up, when he noticed that she had fallen asleep. Right there on the couch. Frank chuckled softly as he took her plates and cutlery and eased off the couch gently so as not to wake her. He tip toed into the kitchen and then started to do the washing up, ever so often peeking through the gap between the bench and the cupboard to see if Isa had roused at all. Poor thing must have been truly exhausted.

Finishing up the dishes, Frank packed everything away – for once, and came back into the lounge room to turn off the TV. The quiet of the room only interrupted by the sound of the traffic outside his apartment building. Gently, Frank put his arms under Isa and carried her into his bedroom. He laid her down on his bed, and brought the cover up and over to lay across her as she continued to sleep soundly. Isolde was probably the first woman to sleep in his bed, since he had moved to this part of town. He bent down to kiss her forehead, before grabbing his own pillow and a blanket from the cupboard, and making his way back into the lounge, to sleep on the couch.

~RB~

 

Chor:  Isolde very rarely made it to the REM stage one so preciously needs to fully experience sleep. This also happens to be the sleep during which you experience dreams; one thing Isa tries desperately to avoid. It seemed the alcohol in her system gave her the faintest of reminders of the last time she indulged herself and the nightmare that followed was one of complete and utter torture. Her weakened body could not fight it off at first, but soon finally she awoke with a short yelp. Bolting upright, Isolde shoved the sweat-matter hair from her forehead and looked around. Where was she…oh god, she was in his bed? Not again.

She glanced down at her clothes, still on her body although highly disheveled,and uttered a sigh. There was a mirror on the other side of the room. Isa’s state could be considered treacherous. She really did look like she’d just tumbled down a mountain. Buttons unbuttons, skirt ridden up to the point of no return and hair knotted and wrapped in every which way. She looked like a commercial for the 1980s. What had she gotten herself into this time? Speaking of time…what time was it? Was it even morning. The room was dark, but she saw light peeking from behind the closed bedroom door. Had Frank slept out on the couch? Immediately Isolde felt guilt. She didn’t mean to force him out of his own bed.

 

A quiet night in – GS

 

Scene setting : Frank Malone’s apartment – Gantz Series.

co-written with Chor.

 

Razorbackwriter:  The ride over in the taxi had Frank feeling a little heady. Was it the music or the scent of exotic spices? This cab driver’s wife must have been a good cook. Trying not to burst out laughing when the cabbie started to sing a long with one of the tracks playing on his radio, he instead placed his arm around Isa and whispered in her ear. “Only in New York.” You had to admit the whole thing was comical. The smell, the music, the cabbie’s lack of musical training. Least now Frank had an idea as to why the guy was driving cabs and not appearing in an off broad way musical. Finally, the ride was at an end as the cab pulled up in front of Frank’s apartment building. The guy did understand English after all. Paying the cab driver, Frank was handed a pamphlet for the cab driver’s wife’s restaurant. No wonder the cab smelt the way it did. He was carting spices in the boot.

“Ah…the Sitar Restaurant. Might have to try that. Thanks.” Frank got out of the cab on his side, only to race around and get Isa’s door. He offered his hand to help her out which he hoped she would take.

Any nervousness that Frank might have felt about bringing Isa up to his apartment was quickly quashed, since he couldn’t get over her smile and the way she handled the cab ride over like a pro. It was often cheaper to use the cabs than trying to find a parking space, which is why Frank favored them as much as he did.

Taking Isa up the three flights of stairs, they finally came to the front door of Frank’s apartment. He rummaged for his keys, before opening the door. The tell tale creak of the hinges showed that it could do well with a bit of oil. Frank dashed in and immediately started a vain effort to tidy a little. Picking up old pizza boxes and Chinese take out containers – hurrying to the bin. He was like a fiend in racing about. Clearly he wanted to impress Isa if he could. Soon, he came to a stop and then clapped his hands together. It was almost like he didn’t know what to offer her first. When she had been left at the door, she may well have seen his study that was where the [i]”wall of mystery”[/b] was. All the cases, Rory…pictures and reports all tacked up on a massive board that covered half the room.

No doubt she would have questions.

~RB~

 

Chor:  While Isa’s family was still adjusting to American life, her father began work in the city. The money he sent the girls from his job paid for the small three-year stint they spent in upstate New York. The place was lovely, quiet, and Isa’s mother often marveled that it was so alike Germany. Isa was too young to even remember, but she knew in her heart that – from the few visits she’d been granted to see her father in the city- that downstate is where she wanted to be. Upstate was nice, but the city was beautiful. It had colour, originality, and brought so much more brightness to Isa’s life. This cabbie was what brought Isa to this place, it was the reason she resigned herself to the city and sold her soul to the idea that she could make it better one body at a time.

“Indeed,” she agreed. Only in New York.

The restaurant’s pamphlet, printed on bright orange paper, make Isa’s stomach growl furiously. Grateful of the loud, overwhelming music, Isa waited as Frank rushed to the other side and allowed him to help her from the automobile. He was acting very strange, which made Isa’s brow raise at the behaviour. As they entered his apartment, nothing really caught her attention as being overly filthy or too out of order. It was the home of someone who didn’t have the time for the little things. Sweeping, dusting…eating, sleeping, you know? She shook her head as he moved around like a whirlwind. He didn’t have to, she was not judging him.

Something her eyes gazed upon removed her attention from all else. It was the study, where it was clear Frank was attempting to solve the very case that destroyed his life so wholly. She was unable to keep herself from it, as if it had reached its saddening tendrils out to her and pulled her in. When Frank would clap his hands at the end of his cleaning spree, she’d already be gone, poring over the files and pictures like it was her own place. She pulled herself away, then, thinking the situation a bit inappropriate. Shutting the door as she exited, Isa went to look for Frank.

 

Razorbackwriter:  Frank had stuck the Indian restaurant’s pamphlet to his fridge while Isa had been drawn into his study. It was only natural for her to take a peek, since everything that was pinned to the wall was to do with the case that had consumed Frank’s life. Quietly, Frank came up behind Isa as she was shutting the door to his study. She would find herself facing him as she turned to look for him.

“Probably best to let that all be tonight.” He referred to the wall of investigations. For a moment there was an awkward pause, as though Frank really wasn’t sure what to do next. But his body had a funny way of showing just what he needed. A pained growl was audible and he rubbed his stomach with a rising blush to his face. “I can’t remember the last time I ate. Can you?” Frank had probably consumed a couple of gallons of coffee to keep himself alert, but as for food, he couldn’t even think of what he had last. Remembering the pamphlet on the fridge, he made a gesture towards the kitchen. “I’ve got nothing in the fridge except for some frozen dinners and that shit isn’t fit for consumption. Say, how about I order some Indian from the restaurant the cabby recommended.” Frank dashed back into the kitchen and took the pamphlet off the fridge door.

“Couple of curries…a few naan. I’ve got beer.” His face now hopeful that Isa would take Frank up on the idea. “Got a few movies we could watch while we eat.” Frank clearly had not dined with a lady in a long time. He was as easy going as they came.

 

~RB~

 

Chor:  Isolde felt embarrassment crawl about her skin as she turned right into Frank, nearly walking straight into him. She found herself nodding in agreement; they’d had about enough of that for the day. At the mere mention of food, Isa’s stomach replied for her, louder this time than in the cab, and she gave an almost guilty look.

“I can’t even count on my fingers the amount of days since the last time I really ate, ” she said shyly, feeling foolish about it. She could only imagine what he thought of her now as he truly realized the extent to which she was allowing herself to rot away. Isa always fed her cat, she always made sure everything was finished with bodies, always did her job to the fullest, but never found it of great import to nourish herself. Her bottom lip found itself between her right lateral incisors, biting gently.

“Anything sounds good, really,” Isolde told him, not wanting him to worry about any special kind of food. She’s never been picky. At the mention of beer, Isa was the slightest bit conflicted. She wasn’t a drinker, for reasons she didn’t like to think about, but she felt safe with Frank. One wouldn’t hurt?

“Movies? Sounds good.”

Truthfully, Isa has seen very few movies in her short life. As a child her family owned one movie which they watched repeatedly and in school she didn’t have time for the cinema. Now? Well, she has even less time.

 

Razorbackwriter:  Then it was settled. A curry night with a movie or two. Both would probably fall asleep on the couch, but Frank really didn’t mind. This was the closest he had come to actually relaxing. What he didn’t realize was that he had turned off his phone, so Tommy’s message had gone to message bank. It would be some time before Frank bothered to check it. Taking the pamphlet down, he used his landline to call the number on the back, and leaned against the doorway to his kitchen as a lady with a strong Indian accent answered on the other end of the line.

“Could I order a number 4 mild, with extra cream and a number 16 medium. Oh and a couple of naan breads.” Frank gave the lady his address and was told the meal would be there within the hour. They must have been having a busy run. That was good enough for Frank, who didn’t mind waiting. He keenly wanted to change out of his suit into just jeans and a t’shirt so that he could truly relax. Hanging up the phone, Frank explained how long dinner would be. “We have an hour or so before the take out gets here. Why don’t you rummage through my movie collection, while I go get changed.” Offering a light smile, he strolled into his bedroom, leaving the door open slightly as he took off his shirt and tie, dumping them both in a hamper. On his back you could see a tattoo on his right shoulder of an eagle. It was well detailed and had been there for sometime. It must have had some meaning to him, and that in itself was another story. He was well built and you could see that he did work out, from the tone of his muscles. Frank then went into his closet and dug out some jeans and a black t’shirt, before getting changed, while Isa amused herself. By the time he was done, he came out looking like a completely different man. He even ran a comb through his hair. He was still a tad rough looking, but in a handsome way.

His DVD collection had everything from thrillers, detective stories, supernatural and of course a stack on the Marvel comic superheroes. There was three book cases filled, and a great choice for Isa to choose from. Wandering into the kitchen, Frank took two beers out of the fridge, then walked back into the lounge, offering one to Isa.

“Found something you like?”

 

~RB~

 

Chor:  This very situation was odd. Isa had never really stayed the night at a man’s house, save it be for overnight cram sessions with her laboratory partners in med school. Now, she’d just met this man and she was wholeheartedly ready to stay the night; no questions asked. It was definitely a change in character for Isolde, who mostly kept to herself lest she be interacted with. As Frank talked over the phone to the take-out place, Isa watched him secretly. His entire demeanor had changed from the first time she’d seen him. She could not imagine them having this same conversation and this same situation happening several hours earlier.

“Uh, sure,” Isa replied to his suggestion before he mosied off to change. Oh god, how was she going to find a movie? Isa’s television experiences consisted mostly of documentaries or interesting lectures and she didn’t want to bore him straight to death. He had a serious collection going, which made things infinitely more difficult. What if she chose the movie he didn’t like? Or one he just watched? With a sigh, she settled on two that sounded pretty interesting. As she turned, her eye caught the open door, just glimpsing the tattoo resting on his toned scapula. With that image in her head, she spun herself around, wide-eyed like a scared doe, and returned to reading the back covers of the films.

As Frank emerged, Isa peeked around once more, now glad to see him clothed. She looked at his casual wear and felt undoubtedly over-dressed for the occasion. She hadn’t planned for this…impromptu hang-out session when she’d scoured her closet for the day. Her hand reached for the two wedding rings on a chain around her neck, as it was a nervous tick, only to find them blocked by her button up. Oh well.

“Ehm, I’ve got World War Z or Shutter Island?” she said, holding the two up to either sides of her clavicle and looking forward to him. It was his choice now, because she figured the odds were better in pleasing him if she picked two. After his choice, she took the beer with a light thanks and opened it, the top digging happily into her finger as she twisted it off.

 

Razorbackwriter:  “Shutter island it is then.” Frank made the choice fairly quickly, as he had watched World War Z too many times to even count. Taking the DVD box, he went about removing the disc from the case and then walked over to the entertainment system, where he inserted the disc into the machine. At this point, he looked back at Isa and asked. “You sure you’re okay being here? I don’t want you to think I am like…trying to make moves or..” There it was. Frank was about as out of practice of how to act around a lady as she was about staying over at a man’s apartment. It was the first time Frank had spoken about just the moment, rather than the case, or Rory’s death. He stood awkwardly for a moment – pausing to let her say something. In behind him on the wall, was a picture of Frank with his small son on his shoulders. Happier times obviously. There was no pictures of a woman in Frank’s life. He had removed those when she walked out on him after Rory had died and their marriage fell apart.

Frank toyed with his beer can, having not even opened it yet. His mind was now going over everything and now he wanted to do the right thing by Isa. “If you wanna change, or freshen up, feel free to use my bathroom.” Was he falling over himself? He meant well, but you could tell now he was nervous. Dinner was yet to arrive. Maybe they needed an ice breaker.

~RB~

 

Chor:  Isa was a little glad that Frank chose the psychological thriller. She really would have picked the medical inconsistencies and pseudo-science in the other film to shreds. She was that kind, yes…

Frank’s question really caught her by surprise. She nodded almost fervently.

“It’s fine, really. I think it’s better even,” she said, then thinking that too eager, added “…I mean if I go home I’ll just work.”

An awkward silence. A sip of beer. Yes; good. At the mention of changing, Isa wished she had something. She resorted to just pulling off her jacket, which was a huge deal considering she would probably die in that lab coat. After doing so, she noticed her skirt had come up a bit to reveal one of the many symbols that ran all the way up her side from the outside of both thighs to just under where her armpit began. The skirt was swiftly pulled down to cover her and she made herself comfortable on the couch.

“I’m quite alright thanks.”   she said with a reassuring smile. He really needn’t fuss.

 

Razorbackwriter:  Frank may not have said anything, but his eyes, oh they could talk as they followed her skirt up her thigh when she had taken off her coat. Were they symbols on her legs. He even moved his head slightly to the right as though that might help him see better, but no sooner had her skirt risen up, Isa had caught onto the fact and then quickly smoothed it down into place. As she wriggled to get comfortable on the couch, she said she was alright with hanging out at his place after all. There was a tension there between them. Like two high school kids on a date, not knowing what to say or how to move forward. But just when Frank was going to say something about the markings on Isa’s legs, there was a knock at the door. That had to be dinner. “Just a sec.” Frank said; making his way to the door and opening it to see a young fresh faced Indian boy carrying a large bag. “You Malone?” Yeah, he had the right place. Frank took out a wad of notes and pressed them into the boy’s hand as he took the take out dinner bag from him. “Keep the change.” There was at least a ten dollar tip, and the young boy grinned. “Thanks, man.” Frank gave a little shrug before closing the door. It was the least he could do, since his apartment wasn’t exactly in the best neighborhood.

Walking back into the room, Frank got an idea. He motioned with his hand for Isa to get up and come to the kitchen. “Get it while it’s hot.” he called, as he placed the bag down on the bench and started to take out the curry box containers. The smell was a lot like the cab that they had ridden over in, but better. In his own element, Frank went to take out plates and cutlery, handing a plate to Isa as she came in. “There is enough for four people at least. You won’t go hungry.” This was said with a smile, as he opted for the Lamb korma with some jasmine rice. The other container had Butter chicken in a mild coconut and tomato sauce. In a paper bag was some garlic naan, that was easy to tear off and use for dipping.

Once Frank had helped himself, he headed back to the lounge room, where he cleared off magazines and his ashtray on the coffee table. It was casual dining at its best and Frank reached for the remote to start the movie. Isa would be able to hear the pre movie trailers starting on Frank’s sound system, which was fairly loud for the size of his apartment.

Frank picked up his beer and offered a toast, when Isa sat down.

“To Rory…” he paused so that Isa could add the name of someone she loved that had passed away.

 

~RB~