apocalypsehowcomm | Log - OTA! - What’s the difference between a corpse and a shirt?

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Log - OTA! - What’s the difference between a corpse and a shirt?

Who: Everyone.
When: Wednesday evening, Jan 11th
Where: A rented out bar, downtown.
Summary: The wake for George Milton.
Warnings: N/A (will update as needed)

If anyone of the forcibly kidnapped to Gloucester deserved to be remembered, it was George Milton. In many ways, he was the best of them. He had been kind. He had always been willing to help and lend a hand. Unlike some whose first choice was violence (because what else was there), he had chosen to forgo that route and had come up with a much more clever solution. The solution saved lives.

It had not felt right to have a formal service for him. To put it simply, he was not a formal person. And so after much calling around, a bar had been found where they could rent out the entire place before business got too busy. It was just for a couple of hours. People could come and say nice things about George. It's what he deserved after all.

So come on in, have a beer or two, and sit a spell. Maybe you'll feel like sharing a story about George or maybe you're just there to pay your respects. There's a break in the weather, the clouds only filling up half of the nighttime sky. No acid snow for tonight.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

In some ways, it's easier to be professional in a situation like this. To dress appropriately, to be there at a set time, to nurse a beer and maintain a polite, distant demeanor.

Jaeger is dressed in his usual turtleneck and slacks, hair combed neatly with a glint of hematite-metal, big and solemn and solid as he ever is. He arrives a bit early and lingers in the cold air for a few minutes before he goes in, and does his best not to think too much.

But the fish cookies make him laugh, a breathy gust of half-restrained sound. And then he isn't sure what else to do, what else to say.

He's used to funerals as a professional courtesy, but actually mourning? That's something different. It's something hes never really been able to allow himself. And just as he thinks he's caught his breath after Garner, it all hits him all over again.

So...distance, and composure, and doing his best not to think about it too much. And keeping a watchful eye on the bar, both inside and outside, to give everyone else the space and security *they* need to mourn.

Kate is going to try and speak to everyone that comes in and out from the cold. They've made the effort to be here. Besides, she doesn't know who is hurting and who is just there to offer support. They may need a shoulder to cry on and just not have had the time to realize their grief yet.

She approaches Andrew during the middle of the wake. She's wearing a simple black dress with her hair pulled back. She didn't have any darker-colored dresses to wear and a bright color wouldn't have been appropriate. Oh, it's true that this event is less formal than an actual funeral service but Kate didn't want to push boundaries tonight.

When she approaches, she has a cocktail in one hand with a soft smile on her face. "I'm glad you could make it Andrew."

Jaeger gives a quiet, tentative smile as Kate approaches, looks up from his beer and sits back in his chair to look more...approachable. Just because he's quiet, that doesn't mean he's opposed to talking.

He just has to work a little in what to say, especially with a friend that is working so hard to make the event pleasant.

"George was a good man," he says after a moment. "I wanted to be a part of remembering that, even if it wasn't always easy."

Not that anything is really easy here, but he owes the man that much at least.

"Thank you again for helping set this up. I think getting together away from work is good for us...I just wish it was better circumstances."

Which brings fo mind George and Nick's poker party, and...ouch. He can't help but wince, and his scarred fingers tighten for a moment around his glass.

Kate sits her cocktail down on the table before sitting down opposite him. She offers another but patient smile while waiting for him to say something again. "He was a good man. He deserves to be remembered." She nods her head.

George had not been prone to violence. He had been a helper. Why he went to that fight she'll never know but he will be missed. "I don't think this is easy for everyone. Funerals and wakes are hard but I know that George wouldn't have wanted something very formal and stuffy."

She takes a sip of her drink. Kate doesn't have a grand alcohol tolerance and she still has to drive later tonight. "I don't need any thank yous. Like I said before, George deserves to be remembered."

She nods her head again. "I do too. It's sad that the one night when we can all get together is for a wake. However, we are a big group of people."

"I don't think he would have, either. And...I prefer this way myself. I've been to too many formal services, and I never know what to do with myself." He smiles ruefully, and shakes his head. "This way is better. More honest, I think."

He takes a sip of his beer. He's not driving, but he's not one to compromise himself, either. Old habits die hard and the town is treacherous enough for him to want to keep his senses about him. So, a couple of beers nursed over the course of the evening is the extent of his indulgence.

"I think there's a lot of us that are still getting used to the idea of being social. Of being a community, such as it is. A lot of loners, a lot of trauma. We're learning, but it takes time and this can be a hard place to build trust." He tilts his head, considering. "Common goals do help, though. Like the boarding house project. Things outside of ADI directives, that make things better for us."

"I think the alcohol helps too," Kate says with a little smile of her own. "But you're right. Formal services can be a little stuffy. I think they're mostly for Believers than anyone else with all that ceremony." She shrugs her shoulders knowing full well she shouldn't speak ill of another's customs. She's from a different Earth after all.

"We're all from different worlds. It can be hard to find common ground that isn't something ADI related. You're right again. Outside projects help. HR has tried to organize get-togethers but those always go wrong. I don't know why they have such bad luck or why they track so much Entity attention." She sighs because she had put a lot of effort into the aforementioned get-togethers.

"Speaking of making things better, how have you been?"

The comment about alcohol gets a chuckle out of him, because isn't that the truth. Just because he doesn't drink much, it doesn't mean he isn't tempted.

"I've never really been a man of faith, myself. I respect others, but it's not something I was ever taught and by the time I got to where I could form my own opinion, other things had filled in that space."

Even as he says it, he can hear the rattle of chains and cheery, chiming laughter, but...that's something else entirely. He thinks. He tells himself.

He huffs out a breath. "But rituals are comforting, and there's something to be said for sharing grief, for seeing that you aren't the only one mourning."

The last bit gets a moment of silence, of contemplation, because he's not sure exactly how to answer that. Kate deserves at least some honesty, in his mind, but on the other hand he's barely honest with *himself*, never mind someone else.

But he's trying. He really is.

"Trying to keep busy so I don't have to think so much," he admits after a few seconds. "Things still feel strange without Garner, I'm trying to get back into routine but it feels...off. Maybe a little unreal."

"I don't know what I believe in anymore with regards to religion and deities. I used to be a firm non-Believer because everything already has an explanation with science. Since arriving here though? If there are such things as Entities and there are, and such things as cross-dimensional travel, then who knows what else is out there." She has to take a sip of her drink. "I still find the idea of an organized religion a little kooky." She is not sorry if that offends anyone.

"That I can agree on. It's good seeing how many people attended tonight, out of respect for George. I just hope he knew how much he was liked." Did he? Much like where the vanished go, Kate supposes that they'll never really know.

"When we last spoke, I mentioned taking up a new hobby or two. Have you given that suggestion anymore thought?

"That's sort of where I am, I think. There are Powers in my world, not just Entities but...other things, and I've experienced some of them. Enough to believe in something, though I'm not always sure what." He shrugs, a darkly wry smile in his face before it fades.

"I hope he did, too. I know things weren't always easy for him, but he tried, and earned a lot of respect. I think he was kinder than he realized, as well. He did what he thought was right, but he thought about people it affected as well." Including keeping the secrets of those who needed it, and Jaeger would always value that. The quiet understanding of doing things that needed to be done, and not judging those awful necessities.

He'd never be able to say it, but at least Jaeger had a chance to express his gratitude for that while the man was still alive.

The shift in topic takes Jaeger a moment, but he smiles again, this time ruefully. How much has he thought about their discussion? Some, but he knew he was still wobbling a bit.

"Well, a very pleasant co worker may be getting me started on yoga this Sunday..." He definitely hasn't forgotten. He pauses, tilting his head in thought. "The rest, I'm still working on. Things that...aren't work. Or research for work. Or waiting for work to start."

Yes, he does have a sense of humor- it just happens to be as dry as old bones.

Hickey's another one who spends time away from everybody, to give them their distance. Because he's got no clue what the fuck to do with this. He's got no clue how to act on things like this. He knows what everyone expects him to do and he just...can't.

So he spends time outside, away from everybody, letting the chill of the evening calm him. When he spots Jaeger, he gives him a little nod. "Got a match?" he asks, as he reaches for his cigarettes.

Jaeger appreciates the open air and space, but he's not opposed to company and the other man gets a polite nod of acknowledgement in return. Someone he may have seen at orientation, a new face he's never spoken with but at least recognizes as one of theirs.

Jaeger used to be better at this, he swears.

At the request, he reaches into his overcoat pocket and produces a lighter. He's not a smoker, but producing fire is handy at times.

"Sure." He flips it with big, scarred hands, offering it politely once Hickey has his cigarette situated. Then, by way of introduction: "Andrew Jaeger."

"Cornelius Hickey," he says, as he lights his cigarette. And Hickey gives Jaeger a steely stare that very handily implies 'so many people have given me shit about my name already, if you do so as well, I'm going to put out this cigarette on your hand.'

He lights the cigarette, takes a puff, then exhales it. There's a pause before Hickey grumbles, "Dunno why people make a big fuss about these things. The dead's dead. Just move on."

Jaeger just meets Hickey's gaze, steady and unconcerned. He's not going to throw stones about a man's name, especially as someone who doesn't even use his own born name. He tucks the lighter back into his pocket, then settles into something more relaxed but still watchful. This isn't a man who lets his guard down often.

"Sometimes, it's good to remember a friend, and share it with others. To see that other people miss them, too." He glances out into the distance, thinking. He's never been good at this part, either. A degree in psychology helps, but only so much.

"Death is harder for some people than others. Especially when it's violent and unexpected, a lot of them aren't used to it."

Hickey takes a drag on his cigarette, listening to Jaeger and giving him a little nod as he talks. Good to remember a friend? Sure, that kind of makes sense. But at the same time, it doesn't fucking matter. Remembering won't bring them back. Remembering won't change what happened. Just move on and keep going.

"This place is nothing but violent and unexpected," Hickey points out, with a little shake of his head. "If you've been here for a few months, you should get used to it. Adapt or don't."

"True." He's certainly not going to argue with Hickey on that point, though there's a note of regret in his tone. "It's an unpleasant reality of this place, especially for those used to safety and stability." Some of whom, he expects, won't be able to adapt and will continue to struggle. They might hide in support roles, try to avoid the worst, but this place is simply not that kind.

He looks at Hickey again, quietly appraising. "You sound like a man with a great deal of experience in that."

Hickey gives Jaegar a casual little shrug in return. "I'm a man who knows perfectly well that the only safety and stability you can have in the world is whatever you carve out for yourself. Nothing's a given in life, after all."

Jaeger nods quietly. It's a bit more cynical than even Jaeger usually tends to, but he can understand completely how some people feel that way.

He's been there himself.

"Especially here," he agrees ruefully. "There are some here that I've come to like and trust, at least. That makes it a bit easier, but nothing's certain." He pauses. "If it was, we wouldn't be here now."

At a funeral, for one of the most *peaceful* of all of them.

Hickey'll admit that much. After all, he's here. He's at the funeral. He doesn't know if he trusted George but he certainly liked the man. He exhales some cigarette smoke as he looks back at the building.

"I do wonder who's funeral is going to be next. We've had a lot of them recently."

It's entirely possible to like people without trusting them. Some people conflate the two, but Jaeger isn't one of them.

"Too many. Funerals, and disappearances. As much as I'd like to believe people are returned safely home..." He shrugs, then decides to continue...much as he's tempted to trail off.

"I'm not really optimistic on the chances. Though some have disappeared and then returned, that only muddies the possibilities further." With no cigarette to take up his attention, he simply stands steady, watchful eyes taking in the night between glances back at his current companion.

He's not going to even try and guess who might be next. It's grim enough as it is, and to be completely fair he would have to put himself in the pool.

Hickey also isn't optimistic at the chances. He lets out a little chuckle before shaking his head.

"I've heard people joke that when someone's vanished, they're spirited away to the ADI basements for experimentation. After a while, you start to wonder how much of a joke that really is."

"I don't know that they were joking at all," he says solemnly. "Some people sincerely believe that, especially since ADI has kept prisoners in the past. Those too dangerous to be let loose, but controllable enough to be studied."

His lips pinch: he's not sold on the idea, but he doesn't really like the idea of more avatars running free, either. People tend to die when that happens...if not sooner than later.

"I dont know that its the case for everyone who vanishes, mind you. But I think if we start to give in to our worst compulsions, it's definitely a possibility."

"Well, there's only one answer for that then. Give in to our worst compulsions where they can't find us."

There's a pause before Hickey gives Jaeger a smirk of a smile. "Joking, of course."

He really isn't.

It gets a small cough of laughter from Jaeger anyway- one of the benefits of having these little get-togethers somewhere away from the constant watchful eye of the ADI.

"Half in jest, all in seriousness, is that how the saying goes?" And Jaeger can't throw stones, not with the thrill of magic so close to the surface. The wild and pure joy of power, of satisfaction, of the Hunt.

He knows himself a little too well, but at least that helps keep him steady. Balanced. For now.

He lets his breath out in the chill air, that wry smile still on his face before it fades.

"For now, we have some of the same goals. That's something, at least. I did similar work for a very long time...as strange as it is, it's comfortable to me."

Strange as it is, that at least makes sense for Hickey. People like the familiar. He nods, taking another drag on his cigarette. It's burned close to the end at this point, but he's not going to waste what little he has left.

"I'll admit that there are aspects of this world still strange and unusual to me. Fortunately, I'm good at adapting to change."

"It would seem so," Jaeger observes thoughtfully, taking in the other man with a quiet, intent look.

"You've probably had more to adapt to here than most of us. The fact that you're getting by, that is pretty impressive all on its own."

He's not the type to offer false praise, simply observation.

Log - OTA! - What’s the difference between a corpse and a shirt?

Andrew Jaeger - OTA

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