Avoiding Home


laura_icon.gif roderick_icon.gif

Scene Title Avoiding Home
Synopsis Laura finds Roderick napping in the Corinthian's bar.
Date June 9, 2010

The Corinthian: Bar and Lounge

It's the hours before the Corinthian bar opens for customers and the sun streams rather brightly through the huge skylight above. Workers move between the tables, cleaning and setting out various items, pulling chairs off the tables, while bartenders check their stocks.

Most avoid the far corner of the room, where a figure sits — more like slumps — in a chair, his feet propped up on another chair. Roderick Sweeney has snuck away into this Bar to catch a nap. A pair of sun glasses cut down some of the glare from the cursed sun, as his head hangs back, against the back of the chair. Arms are folded across his black leather jacket, his ankles are crossed where they are propped up. As always he looks like a scruffy British rocker want to be.

Laura isn't most people — and someone napping in a place like this, well… they're just asking to be disturbed. The pale-haired woman studies the sleeper for a moment, then picks a chair on the other side of the table and hops up to perch on the back of it, her shoes firmly planted on the seat. She holds a glass of something red-colored, the kind of glass that's generally used for soft drinks rather than alcoholic ones. "Roderick," the imp calls in a suspiciously sing-song tone. "Not a good place to be sleeping…"

There is a soft snort from the man, before his head snaps up, arms sliding apart so he can lift those sunglasses to squint at the woman through one eye. "Laura." He offers the greeting with a sleep roughened voice. "I wasn't sleepin', I was restin' my eyes." Of course, after settling the sunglasses on top of is messy crop of short hair, fingers rub at the corners of his eyes. "What you doin' around here anyhow?"

After a second thought, Roderick pats along his body in important places making sure everything is there, eyeing Laura suspiciously.

Laura smiles cheerily at Roderick as he pats through his own pockets. It is not a very reassuring expression. "Just… saying hello," the woman replies. "I mean, you can't spot a friend and not pass along your regards, can you?" Though some might argue that disturbing… rest… is less friendly than failing to say hello. She takes a sip of her red drink, looking down at Roderick. "What're you doing here? Besides 'resting'."

After making sure that everything is in place or at least he hopes they are, Roderick reaches up and with a flick, drops those sunglasses down over his eyes again. "One of the security blokes called off." He grouses as he slumps down a bit more, "I made the mistake of answerin' my phone." His head drops back again.

There is a loud clatter behind the bar, the sharp sound making Roderick grimace. Seems someone has a wee bit of a hangover. "So I got placed to fill in." Not that it's in his regular to do list… but there you have it. "I think Kain is gettin' back at me from havin' to be flatmates during the bloody ice age."

"Hmph. Seems to me like you'd be better off just goin' home," Laura observes after Roderick's grimace, taking another drink. Of course, she isn't just going to leave it at that; twisting around, she surveys the room and spots the bartender stocking glasses. "'Ey! Jeremy! You really need him here?" Which shout probably doesn't go well with the painter's hangover. On the other hand, the shooing motion from said bartender is Roderick's explicit release. Even if Laura's the only one that sees it. "There, see? Easy as that," the woman declares, turning back. "So go sleep it off somewhere with a door you can close," she concludes, taking another drink.

"Oi!" Roderick snaps, brows furrowing at the thief. "You coulda walked you arse over there and asked instead of shoutin'." He makes a motions around the room. "It's fancy place… treat it as such." Says the man who is snoozing in the bar, with his boots on the elaborate seat fabrics.

But, who is he to argues being freed from the torture of being there. Booted feet drop to the floor and he grabs the edge of the table to angle himself up to sit. "Thanks." He does offer at least.

Leaning on the table, fingers of one hand slide through spiky blonde hair and then stops there, propping his head up. "One stout too many last night." His mouth pulls up to one side, into something like a smirk. "So how have you been, chickie. I didn't see you around, I take it you got out of dodge before the soddin' snow got too bad?"

"Pssh. Not that fancy, when you've been through half the walls," Laura demurs. "This building, that building. All basically the same," she professes, taking another drink from the glass both hands are wrapped around. "They'll forgive me, anyway." Pale brows arch at Roderick's query. "Yep!" the woman confirms. "Went out that way a while," she continues, waving in what is undoubtedly an arbitrary direction, from in here. "Infinitely better than going stir-crazy here." Or staying in the same rooms as Kain, but Laura doesn't say that one.

"I'm wishin' I had done that." Roderick's nose scrunches up a bit, his eyes watching his fellow thief over the top of his sunglasses. "Besides… you have a betta' sense of humor, that's for sure." He grins impishly at Laura, his brows lifting in a knowing way. "Not to mention betta for lookin' at. I've seen more of Kainy boy then I ever want to again."

Eyes drops to the glass in her hand and Roderick seems to consider getting his own. "What are you havin' there? Ain't five o' clock, yet." The other blonde getting an amused look, not that he's ever really lived by that rule.

Laura chuckles softly. "I don't doubt it," she replies, offering Roderick a cheerful smile. "As for humor…" The smile becomes a broad grin as she lets her voice trail off, leaving the thought unfinished. Maybe that smile curves just a little bit more — or maybe it doesn't. And for her drink… Laura peers down at the glass, swirling it around; ice clinks faintly against the sides of the container. "Little bit of juice, little bit of soda. Perfectly safe to have before five," she assures Roderick, tone facetiously serious.

"Damn…" Roderick says with a heavy sigh, sitting up finally and pushing to his feet. "I was hopin' to have an excuse to get a little somthin'." His head turns to glance out one of the windows, eyes scanning the view from where the bar is perched up on the Corinthian. The light shines just right on the lenses allowing Laura the view of his eyes flicking over to her.

"You talk to Kain, yet?" Roderick can't help but ask, it's been weigh on his mind for a time, but then a lot of his painting will do that.

The rim of her glass resting against her lips, Laura is quiet for a moment, looking across the table at Roderick. "Oh, we talked," she finally states, the timbre of her voice shading towards something more ominous than ingenuously bright. "Kain put his foot in his mouth, as usual." Her demeanor abruptly shifts back to cheerful, although the resulting smile is still wariness-inducing — in its promise of mischief. "That's all right. He can be dealt with." The woman tilts her glass up to take a sip, then shakes her head at Roderick. "And that's all I'm going to say. Subject is closed."

The pre-cogs hands come up in a defensive gesture, head shaking slowly, "Hey… All I wanted to know was if you talked to the bloke. What you do and what he does with what I've visioned it up to you all." Roderick lifts a hand to slide the sunglasses off his face, blue eyes squinting against the bright light.

He hazards a glance up, while tucking those sunglasses away. As he talks, his voice stays casual, "But… it's also why I ain't been home yet." Roderick has been staying at the hotel a bit longer then most. His eyes drop to the woman across from him, "I go home… might be more." He doesn't sound exceptionally happy about it. "Been just over two months… I'm due."

Well, now you know. Taking an idle sip of her drink, Laura looks over at Roderick. She tilts her head to consider him, pursing her lips. "So… what're you going to do about it?"

"See what happens" Roderick states plainly, shoulders giving a slow shrug. "Go where the chip fall I imagine." He tugs the zipper of his jacket a bit higher, and tugging it at the bottom. "As long at the pay is there and I'm not puttin' my head on the choppin' block… well… cheers to whoever gets it."

Finger flick a bit of hair out if his eyes and he gives her a matter of fact look, "All I've ever done really. Plus, you got to admit, to old codger's getting a bit on in age. Who knows how many predators are waitin' in the wings." Roderick's look says he thinks he's right.

Laura blinks, and then frowns at Roderick. "I meant about going home," she replies. "When I said the other subject was closed, I also meant that." Sliding off the chair, she nods to the painter. "Get out, do something. Or at least try not to get too drunk this time, okay?" She turns, and starts to walk away, glass still in hand.

A brow lifts as Roderick watches the blonde leave. His mouth pulls up into a smirk, eyes narrowing slightly at her back. "Clarify next time, mate." He calls after her, his voice edged with amusement. Shaking his head, Roderick glances outside again, brow drop slowly to furrow.

What was he going to do? He couldn't avoid home too much longer.

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