open || shake the frame of this house

[theodora neale radke]

There was nothing Theo loved more than a protest. She was in top form, shouting out directions to the newbies who looked a little lost and dazed in the dark and bright lights flashed at them by police "If you don't want to get arrested, now's time time to get out!" She shouted over the din of chants at a few teenagers who stared at her big eyed before scattering for the sidewalks. Probably she ought to scatter with them and hit it for the subway and home but Theo thrived on provocation and there was nothing she loved quite so much as this part. Shoulder to shoulder with friends, she locked arms, like she'd done so many times before and the group sat in a circle, facing out as they blocked the intersection. Police shouted at them to scram, that they were all going to be arrested but Theo shouted chants over them. When she was hauled off by a massive guy who yanked her up so painfully that she nearly saw stars, Theo laughed the whole way to the van, far too used to this kind of thing to be bothered. Only a few others were arrested before the night was out and when Theo arrived at the evening's holding cell, it was only a bit before she was passed out, sleeping soundly.

"Theodora Radke!" Theo jerked into full awareness as a uniformed cop shouted her name, reading off his list of names. Scrambling to her feet, she came to the cell door, one hand resting lightly on a bar as she waited for him to come to her cell. "You've been bailed out, come on." He unlocked Theo's cell door and led her down the dimly lit hallway out to the lobby where a few of the other women from her activist group stood waiting. She was greeted with cheers, claps on the back and a million updates on what had happened after she'd been dragged away from the protest the night before. The cop at the desk was brisk with them, snapping out Theo's court date and telling her to stay out of trouble. Theo barely listened, knowing this part practically by heart.

Her friends escorted her down the block, still congratulating her as they split off. The last to go handed her a twenty dollar bill and telling her to go get some breakfast. "Yeah, yeah, see you around." Waving goodbye, Theo tucked the twenty in her pocket and hit it down the street, enjoying the feel of the sunshine on her face. Looking down, she examined the red and broken skin on her wrists, leftover marks from the zip-ties that a cop had pulled way too tightly on her wrists. It stung and was a little scabby at parts but it'd heal, if only Theo was patient. So engrossed in examining her injury that she didn't pay attention to where she was walking and suddenly she was running directly into some guy. Startled, she took a few steps back, tripping over her own feet and ending up on her ass on the sidewalk with a surprised noise. Looking up, she laughed. "Sorry, didn't see you there, didn't mean to bump into you like that." Holding up her wrists she shrugged. "Too distracted with my own shit today I guess." More laughter as she made no particular move to get off the sidewalk.

[ross]

"Now look here, you daft wanker. You had the bollocks to tick a full ounce off me last week. I'm not one to deny any old fucker a good chance, but mate, you're really taking the piss." A sharp intake of breath on a tan-filtered fresh, crisp Marlboro as the strides of a man standing about dead on six feet tall got longer, faster, and more hurried. "That's three hundred dollars by normal logic. I told you two-fifty. And of that promised two-fifty, the deadline for delivery of which is today, I have seen sweet fuck-all."

Hissing through the newest iPhone 4S, barely weeks old - and still battered to Hell and back, coated in all manner of scratches - Alistair Clarke spoke through gritted teeth as he pressed the white-skinned cellphone to his cheek and listened to the whimper on the other end. "Now, look, Al, buddy, friend, mate-"

"I am not your fucking mate, Dobson. I am your drug dealer." That was a statement for the masses. Alistair ground to a halt to take another rushed drag of the cigarette. The smooth, rich taste of Marlboro. At least that was consistent. Unlike his bloody customers. "Now, unless you want me to come round yours and break your legs with a pool cue, you're going to ring me back in the next three hours telling me you've had a miraculous change of heart. And if I have to come over there, it's going to up to three-fifty."

With that, Alistair abruptly ended the call, shaking his head and tousling his fringe gently. He took a sigh and slumped his back against the nearby remnant of a brick wall, another drag of the cigarette as he raised it to his mouth. But, as tired as he was, he'd come on this store trip for one reason or another - out of noodles - and to get his sternly-worded phonecalls out of the way, and stopping where he was - luckily enough, the police station - was not the best of ideas. Especially with a criminal record like the Briton's, which was, at best... spotty.

The Englishman then decided simply to get his head down and keep moving, laconically toking on his cigarette, and getting his head down to move. With a gentle glance upwards, Alistair rubbed his eyes and groaned, the pale morning sunlight of the Big Apple not exactly the first thing he wanted to see at half eight in the morning, sleep-deprived, unshaven, and looking more or less like he'd been dragged through a thorn bush backwards.

THUD.

"Sorry, didn't see you there, didn't mean to bump into you like that." Alistair recoiled a step back from the impact, but that was all, instead tilting his head to look lethargically down at the girl who had managed to fall onto her rear end on the pavement. "Too distracted with my own shit today I guess." Only laughter came as she continued to stay seated on the curb.

Noticeably looking rather grim - ironically similarly to he was - the girl seemed pretty tired, and somewhat unorthodox, all in all. Alistair regarded her with a strange raise of one eyebrow as she chuckled up at him, before extending his hand. Even drug dealers knew the value of chivalry. "You're sitting on your arse, love." The Briton murmured slowly, ready to yank her upwards. "Pavement ain't the cleanest place in the world."

[theodora neale radke]

The good news was that, despite her little tumble backwards onto the sidewalk, Theodora was pretty much fine. Probably her most painful injury was still the cuts and abrasions from the zip tie and though she'd probably have a bruise on her ass later, it'd fade quickly. And then the guy was offering her a hand, telling her the pavement wasn't exactly clean. Well, when he was right, he was right. Theodora took the offered hand and got to her feet, dusting herself off and twisting this way and that way, trying to make sure she hadn't managed to wreck up her clothes more than they already were. No obvious tears, so she was fine.

"Thanks man." She finally said with a smile. "You alright? I didn't, I don't know, bruise you up with my falling all over the damn place?" God, she was in a shockingly good mood, despite her lack of good sleep and the general soreness sleeping on a police station cot always brought about. "Really, I usually pay more attention to that kinda shit, like, where people are and if I'm about to fall on my ass like a damn fool." Ok, maybe not entirely true but Theodora liked to think she was at least a little more observant than running smack into some stranger would imply.

She stuck her hand out again, head cocked to one side, crooked grin firmly in place. "'m Theo. Short for Theodora, you call me whatever you want, I don't much care." Soon as they'd shaken hands, she was back to rubbing the red marks on her right wrist with her left hand, fingers checking over over broken skin without thinking. "Look, uh, I feel bad for like, ramming into you like an idiot, can I like, buy you a cup of coffee or something?" Money was really too damn tight for her to do that but, well, what else to do? Her stomach, empty since lunch the day before, grumbled loudly and Theodora grinned sheepishly, knowing that had to be loud enough for the guy to hear. "Sorry, I haven't eaten in like, forever."

Tucking her hands into her pockets, she shrugged, looking up at him. "So, coffee? On me? Since I'm clumsy and careless and all. There's a good place around the corner, little cafe. If you want, like there's no pressure, you do whatever you want obviously." Another little laugh, Theodora watching him with that same crooked grin.

[ross]

After heaving her up, she continued to speak, bubbly as all hell in spite of what it looked like she'd been through. "You alright? I didn't, I don't know, bruise you up with my falling all over the damn place?"[/i] Alistair blinked incredulously, and shook his head, taking another apprehensive toke of his cigarette. Compared to him, she was somewhat petite; and sheer logic here kind of outweighed any evidence that he would have been damaged at all.

"You were the one who ended up on the pavement, love. Only thing I'm feeling at the moment is tired, and that ain't your fault in the slightest." With that cynical exclamation out of the way, Alistair readied himself to either keep talking or make a swift excuse for an exit, but hadn't yet decided. She was cute, to say the very least; but if she started getting annoying, he wanted to be able to make a quick getaway.

"Really, I usually pay more attention to that kinda shit, like, where people are and if I'm about to fall on my ass like a damn fool." Bit ditzy, wasn't she? Alistair continued to laconically toke away at his cigarette, scanning her up and down, but in his lethargic state he was unable to divine anything further. She continued to speak in spite of his lack of response. "I'm Theo. Short for Theodora, you call me whatever you want, I don't much care."

Alistair nodded and flicked his cigarette off into the road, hissing out the last of a pale white-grey vapour of smoke before taking her hand, and shaking it gently, thinking of something intelligent and flirtatious to say, just to test the water, but nothing was coming. "Alistair. People call me Al." He shrugged as he broke off the handshake. "And I dunno, I was trying to think up a nickname, but up until now, you were just "cute girl I bumped into on the curb"." Never fear, the drug dealer could flirt in whatever state he was in, it seemed.

"Look, uh, I feel bad for like, ramming into you like an idiot, can I like, buy you a cup of coffee or something?"[/i] Alistair arched his eyebrow further and almost instinctively his stomach grumbled. What he wouldn't say to a full English right now... ah, the taste of home. Bacon, grease, egg, toast, grease, baked beans, black pudding, grease... "Sorry, I haven't eaten in like, forever." Moments after his began, her belly roared, as if the effect were contagious, and the drug dealer grinned dumbly at her, shrugging.

She continued. "So, coffee? On me? Since I'm clumsy and careless and all. There's a good place around the corner, little cafe. If you want, like there's no pressure, you do whatever you want obviously."[/i] Bloody hell, was it him or was she just a touch eager? And talkative, too. Regardless, conversation was conversation, and he had time. With that, potential companionship, and the opportunity to get a bite to eat, the deal was more or less made before he could even think about it.

Alistair nodded slowly. "How about we make it breakfast, instead?" The Briton grinned in kind and jerked his thumb towards his own stomach. "I'm just as hungry as you are." Another smile, the drug dealer, in a somewhat unorthodox tradition, keeping his routine of chivalry somewhat alive with the defibrillator that was his wallet. Hell, maybe he'd get something out of it. He was seriously hoping she was a smoker of the more dubious sort. Perhaps he could tempt her into a little something more along the green side of things with that. "Don't worry. I'll pay for it. No need to make up for bumping into me, really."

[theodora neale radke]

"Al? Got it, Al, won't forget it." She nodded with a smile. But then he was calling her cute which... No one called Theodora Radke cute. Annoying, chatty, confrontational, maybe. Cute? Never. And for Theodora, the awkwardness just got dialed up a notch. If he was calling her cute.... Well, there was no good way to subtly drop in that oh, by the way, huge lesbian with no interest in dudes calling her cute or any of that. So she needed to find a way to communicate that. "Well if you think up something, you just let me know." Oh hell. Terrible idea. Still, Theodora smiled.

At the very least, it was clear from the grumbling of Al's stomach that Theodora wasn't the only one starving. The suggestion of breakfast made Theodora nearly wince and she reached into her pocket, feeling the $20 bill, just about all the cash she had. "I mean... No, yeah, we can do breakfast, just, uh..." She looked away for a moment, not sure how to explain her situation. "I can't, uh, cover you on that, I'm like, short on cash. Chronic condition." She offered a small smile but it was weak and a little embarrassed. But then there he went, offering to cover breakfast and Theodora shrugged. Probably not fair to take him up on that offer without mentioning the gay thing but... she was starving and being able to get a free meal would be a godsend.

"C'mon then, I'll show you the place. Cute little joint, not too pricy. Little cop-happy sometimes but fuck it, the woman who owns the place knows me, she's nice." Theodora nodded in the direction of the cafe and then started walking, figuring he'd be following along. As they strolled, a cop passed them, heading back towards the station. He spotted Theodora, glared and shook his head, muttering an insult under his breath. Theodora's smile got impossibly wider and she saluted him. "Good morning Officer Havers!" The guy just mumbled another insult Theodora could barely hear and walked right on past.

Looking up at Al, Theodora shrugged. "Guess he's not a fan." Of course he wasn't, the guy had arrested Theodora at least twice and saw her face in that station probably far more than either of them really liked. "I swear, you'd think I was some kind of troublemaker or something, way the cops go on here." Another shrug, her eyes focusing forward as they walked. "Gotta be fucking careful with 'em too, they're such dicks, you give 'em an inch, they take a goddamned mile. Guy back there is always giving me such shit." Cop problems were really in part Theodora's fault but... well she'd complain anyway.

Tilting her head, she peered up at Al curiously, deciding her cop history was probably boring at best and weird at worst and she wasn't about to talk herself out of a free meal. "Sorry, I know, I'm chatty. And I'll shut up about the cops, just uh, they're not my favorite people. But really. New subject." She paused as moment, expression thoughtful before she settled on an obvious question. "How long you been in town? Accent, kinda gives you away, you ain't from around here."

[ross]

"Al? Got it, Al, won't forget it." Alistair nodded slowly and silently in approval, less than eager to continue obliging her on that subject as she kept on speaking. "Well if you think up something, you just let me know." The drug dealer grinned. Well, that was a great idea, eh, wasn't it? He could get back to her on that. Suddenly, breakfast sounded a much better idea than it had before. The Briton began to grin.

"I mean... No, yeah, we can do breakfast, just, uh..." He saw the hand go into the girl's pocket and instantly understood. Well, he understood, but there was no empathy there. Between his parents and his "career choice", there wasn't a lot of time past eighteen that he'd been utterly skint. "I can't, uh, cover you on that, I'm like, short on cash. Chronic condition."

"That's fine." The Briton replied with a smile, his body doing one thing - acting on impulse of his penis - whilst his mind said the complete opposite. Alistair was a drug dealer, and he was now offering to buy lunch for a random girl he'd just met. This was an accurate yet wildly strange complete summary of his character. He almost felt odd himself suggesting it, his voice seizing up from the mention of charity. Goddamn libido. The things he did looking for a fine piece of ass.

"C'mon then, I'll show you the place. Cute little joint, not too pricy. Little cop-happy sometimes but fuck it, the woman who owns the place knows me, she's nice." Theo immediately began strolling, and in response to that, Alistair arched an eyebrow, but let it fall almost immediately, trying not to let his scrutiny remain too visible for his occupation and all. But, irrespective, why was "cop-happy" a problem for her? The diners he tended to frequent ended up being dingy bars on the wrong end of town with cheap lager and torn felt on the pool table. "Good morning Officer Havers!"[/i]

Aaand... that was the reason why. What was she, some trigger-happy anarchist activist who hated authority with a fervent passion? Because that was the way it was coming off, as the guy slunk off with a derogatory comment and she went off on a rant, Alistair - knowing what was good for him - remaining silent. "Gotta be fucking careful with 'em too, they're such dicks, you give 'em an inch, they take a goddamned mile. Guy back there is always giving me such shit."

"Amen to that. Wankers. The lot of them." Even the pigs back in Britain were dicks. That much he remembered from a life of juvenile 'misadventure', to use less intense terminology. But that, enigmatically, was all he would offer on the subject. Never did him well to go around bandying about his occupation with burgeoning delight. Keep yourself to yourself, and you were fine, unless some daft pricks kept trying to muscle you out of somewhere. Then... well, certain measures could be justified.

"Sorry, I know, I'm chatty. And I'll shut up about the cops, just uh, they're not my favorite people. But really. New subject." Yeah, Alistair could just about tell. With that, he smirked and waited as the inevitable question came: "How long you been in town? Accent, kinda gives you away, you ain't from around here." She was right. It was a dead giveaway with just about everyone.

"Too long." He murmured in response to that, before moving on to clarify. "Coming up to five years. And you got me. I'm a London boy, through and through, ain't no doubt about that, love." A haughty grin concerning his heritage and he continued. "And, yes, we say "mum" instead of "mom", "holiday" instead of "vacation", all love fish and chips, and whatever assorted bollocks you might know about us, to save the rest of the questions." Alistair made the addendum exhaustively, so fucking tired of being asked about Britain time and time again. That was a life away; and though he was proud of it and liked to flaunt it about, so many people were just clueless pricks about the whole debacle.

[theodora neale radke]

At least Al didn't seem entirely put off by Theodora's obvious distaste for the cops. People tended to get offended, take her dislike of the NYPD as a personal insult or some such thing. She couldn't count the number of times she'd gotten 'but they're heros!' speech, often from stupid ass out of towners who didn't know their ass from their elbow. Theodora just did not have time for that kind of nonsense. "And fuckin' NYPD, strutting around like they're god or some such shit. These guys are the worst. And the goddamn chief, motherfuckin' Ray Kelley, all high and goddamn mighty, like who died and made him Jesus?" She stopped, held up a finger in a 'wait a minute' gesture and then shook her head. "I said I was changing the subject, I will, I mean it. No more cop talk. Done, zipped, that's it."

Well at least her guess that he wasn't from around town was a good one, though honestly, not that hard to guess. Her eyebrows rose a bit as he mentioned he had been there for five years. She'd have guessed less than that but whatever. He sounded defensive though, rattling off the word differences before Theodora could even react. She held up her hands, shaking her head a bit. "Promise, I wasn't going to ask. I know people get funny about the whole English thing, accents and shit. But like, I mean, it's all good, I'm not gonna drill you on any of that. Don't worry about it."

Her hands went right back in her pockets and she shrugged a bit. "So you don't like it here then? If you've been here too long and all. And what's keeping you here then? And you gotta tell me what London's like, I've never lived anywhere but here, hell, never really been anywhere but here, you cannot blame me for being curious." Theodora couldn't really imagine living anywhere else in the world, she'd grown up in the city and hadn't ever planned on leaving. Maybe one day a vacation but right now? No job? That wasn't happening. "Look, over there." Thedora pointed at a little place on the corner across from them with big windows and a couple of tables out front. "That's where we're going. Lyric Cafe."

The cafe was a quiet little place, booths with checkered tabletops and faded red seats. A heavyset woman, hair all done up in a curly do and wearing a worn but clean white apron over a pale green dress, bustled about behind the counter, carrying a coffee pot in one hand and snapping her gum as she poured a fresh cup of coffee for a cop sitting at the counter. When she saw Theodora, she quirked up an eyebrow. "That you Theo? You look like you ain't been eatin' in weeks, come on in, you get yourself a seat, I'll be with cha in a minute child." That said, she was vanishing back into the kitchen with her notepad.

Theodora spared a grin up at Al and then gestured at an open booth near the door. "My usual spot." She informed him as she slid into the booth, setting her bag on the seat beside her and then setting her hands on the table, fingers loosely laced together. "Woman back there, that's Janey. Nice lady, makes good coffee, thank fucking god." A small stack of menus had been left on the table behind them and Theodora figured they need them so...

"One second..." Twisting around in her seat, she leaned over the top of the booth, kneeling on her seat as she stretched out an arm to grab for the menus. Grabbing two off the stack, she slid back down, turning back around and sliding a menu across the table to him before opening her own, eyes flicking over the meals listed. "Nothing here is bad, just so you know. Not like, fine dining but it's all good."