Hells Divided


diogenes_icon.gif isis_icon.gif

Scene Title Hells Divided
Synopsis Isis tries to be rid of Diogenes, but only finds herself confused by his 'apology' and his offer to part ways.
Date July 10, 2009

Biddy Flannigan's Irish Pub

Isis stands behind the lacquered counter, her little frame bent forward to prop her elbow upon the bar as she carries on a simple enough conversation with one of the patrons. She's dressed in a manner that flatters her job as well as her form, something she plainly wouldn't wear otherwise - an emerald halter accentuates the fall of her long, crimson braid and dances playfully around the slender lines of her bare, tattooed back. Black slacks and a pair of dark, sturdy black boots complete the outfit. She's even wearing makeup! She smiles at the customer and turns away to pour him a fresh beer from the tap.

Naturally, it is far too hot outside to be carrying a jacket. And as such, today is when Tom's usual and typical apparel that almost never changes is void of his darkly coloured snug jacket. Additionally, the sleeves of his grey shirt are rolled up to his elbow, revealing his pallid skin and curiously slender arms. Entering the bar, he slows his pace and tries to find Isis behind the bar, which he soon does. Even then, though, his steps aren't exactly bold. Reluctantly, he walks over to the bar, his cell phone in his right hand. "This isn't exactly the sort of place I had in mind", he complains in a murmur, "It's full of people. How long are you going to be here?"

Those dark irises flicker towards the corners of Isis's eyes, taking in a quick stolen glance towards Thomas. She goes about her work first before denoting him any sort of attention, letting his bickering hang ignored as she sets the drink down before the customer and excuses herself from the last of the conversation. As soon as her back is to the customer her smile falls away, her steps drawing her sharply forward towards Thomas. "You," she hisses, leaning over the bar and pointing a finger at the dark haired kid. "You had no right to say any of those things. You hear me?" She grunts and reaches under the counter, tugging out the kids textbook and dropping it onto the bar with a loud thunk. "I've had enough of your shit." She keeps her voice low so as not to disturb the others, but the soft volume does nothing to ease the venom laced on every syllable of her words and contour of her expression.

Needless to say, Diogenes is far from pleased by the fact that he is left ignored. But, as patient as he can be, he waits for Isis to gift attention to him; he even lets out a timid snort and smirks lightly. Not only did the redhead's reaction amuse him, but it was also relatively easy to string together certain deductions to arrive at the final conclusion, which he voices as soon as Isis says her piece and Tom has his turn to speak. "I take it you've had another argument with Ash?", he asks before quickly adding to his inquiry: "I understand that you believe flipping out at me will actually fix something, but you're mistaken. I broke nothing. I cannot destroy that what is already obliterated." He shoots a glance towards his massive book. "On the other hand", he notes shortly after his redundantly fancy speech, "I also understand why you would severe ties with me, and even how that would be beneficial to you. And unfortunately, I have no argument that would make you change your mind." His eyes rise to meet Isis's poisonously infuriated gaze.

A scowl is all the reply the little redhead offers for a long moment. "Don't fool yourself into thinking you had any lasting effect on my relationship," she notes calmly. "What goes on between Ash and I is none of your business. You need to understand that damn quick. Secondly? I'm not here for your amusement or to be used. That pawn-boy was right." She flicks a few stray strands of crimson from her face and steps a short pace away, leaning back against the shelves at the back wall of the bar and folding her arms across her chest.

"Who said anything about lasting effect? I had short-term consequences in mind, and we both know… I am their cause." Diogenes pauses, his eyes falling to the thick book once more. It was so much easier to communicate when he didn't have to look into another's eyes. "I didn't come here to discuss about your endeavours in the bedroom", he says, although a thorough explanation involving a reason as to why he came is given with visible hesitation. He opens his bag, places the cell phone on the counter and grabs the huge book before carefully inserting it into the bag that is spacious enough to house the ridiculously large medical textbook. "But it seems half of what I came here for is now irrelevant", he says, looking up at her again. "I did some stupid things… and you followed. The 'pawn-boy', as you call him… He's in Staten. No doubt he has some sort of contacts. Now, I can't help if muscle is sent after you, but if the opportunity to talk your way out of it arises… Personally, I'll be taking all the blame. I suggest you play along. You have things to lose. I don't. And before you think this is a heroic act… It isn't." He glances at the cell phone, which he apparently plans to leave. "Anything else?"

The slender fingers pressed against the opposite biceps give a little fidget. Finally, the little redhead seems to drop all importance on the topics worded and argued before this, unfolding her arms to make a simple gesture of pointing accusingly at the cellular phone. "What're you doing with that?" she inquires. As always her curiosity overrules all else.

Diogenes considers the aged mobile phone he left on the bar counter. "This is my warranty of us not being able to contact each other", he states in a stoic tone, his gaze lifted to regard the redhead before him. He's silent. Eerily so. Plenty of noise comes from the background, though - boisterous, merry cries of a pleased crowd, glass hitting glass, laughter and momentary exclamations. "You scare me", he finally speaks up. "You're the one person I actually am reluctant to leave. We weren't lovers, we weren't friends. I was using you. And yet… there's something more to you than meets the eye. Something… that makes me feel almost euphoric, but at the same time makes me terrified." After a soft sigh, his hand slides off the counter and he steps back. "Enjoy your life. I certainly don't how to enjoy mine."

Isis's dark gaze flickers down to the phone and back up to Diogenes. This quick switching of her attention is repeated many more times than is necessary to examine either object or individual before she finally steps forward and snags the phone, shoving it out towards Thomas with a firm gesture. "Take it." There is no room for debate in the heavy, ambiguous tone of her words. "Take it." It all she can say, it seems - any more would divulge more information than which she is comfortable offering… even if her 'friend' had offered such touching comments.

Although Diogenes was about to turn away, he pauses when the cell is swiftly grabbed by the bartendress and offered back to him with a pair of repeated words. His eyes are fixed on the device. "Don't you find it convenient?", he asks what might have seemed as an odd question. He soon elaborates, however: "I've just given you a handful of sappy comments that instilled doubt in you. I could exploit that. In fact, how can you know this whole thing isn't a ploy to get you back? Tell you what." He takes the phone, and promptly starts mashing one button after another, whilst murmuring in a strained tone: "If you ever… really want to talk… or need my help and have no one to go to… go to this address." Having sent the message to the redhead's cell phone, Dio's own is tossed carelessly on the counter. After that, he turns to leave, ignoring Isis.

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