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Post by Ylanne on Oct 20, 2019 18:26:40 GMT -6
"You're completely and totally biased, so I don't believe you," Ahmad said with a grin. He leaned forward and pecked Aerilyn on the cheek. "Spouses always say those kinds of things to each other. It's practically a requirement for marriage. Tribute in compliments." He stirred the couscous again, wafting the aroma with his hand toward them both, the better to smell it. "Enough for a couple of days of leftovers, if we don't suddenly metamorphose into pigs or something. So you can bring some to work in a lunchbox or something, probably." He turned the stove off, deciding the couscous was finished, and gestured to Aerilyn. "Now, if you could set the table, my fine lady, then we can enjoy our magnificent feast!" He made an exaggerated, sweeping gesture, like a prince welcoming guests of honor into a great hall in days of old. "To celebrate your first successful day in a job theoretically less likely to result in gunshot wounds and premature death!" He liked the sound of that very much.
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Post by demikara on Oct 20, 2019 18:32:26 GMT -6
Aerilyn giggled and got out the plates, setting the table for both of them and topping off their drinks. She grinned widely, and made certain everything was just so, before bringing the food over to the table. "Huzzah! Less chance of being shot!" She agreed and took her seat. Her grin could crack her face, it was so wide. She couldn't help it though. He was a funny man. "May I never get shot again." She was very much over the entire experience. There was no need to repeat it at all.
The aeromancer waited for him to say basmallah then took a quick bite of her meal and hummed in appreciation. "I don't think I'm biased at all. You're an amazing cook. There's a reason you cook and not me, you know." There was little desire improve herself with his cooking skills. Though she gave it a try now and again.
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Post by Ylanne on Oct 20, 2019 18:41:04 GMT -6
"Glad at least one of us thinks so," said Ahmad, sliding easily into his chair and then pulling his plate to his face so he could begin shoveling his couscous into his face like a clearly very refined individual. Now that they'd been together going on nearly twenty years, it was more acceptable to relax manners, at least in private. Never in front of company and never when out. "Here's to that, too," he said, raising the glass of vişne he'd brought over to the table. "I do not miss the late nights at Gambit's or the terror that every phone call meant you were dead there." He hoped that a Wing City bus route would at least be relatively safer for her, even if it could never be entirely certain. "Now about my mother... I think she's hard at work on her fourth book now, since she has all that extra time after finally stepping back from her company. I never did figure out how she managed running a company while being a professor. Some kind of magic, has to be."
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Post by demikara on Oct 20, 2019 18:51:41 GMT -6
"I could barely balance being a bouncer with being able to relax at all." If she hadn't been at work, she had been working out to make certain work wouldn't kill her. There was no gentleness in being a bouncer there. She was in great shape, even with the forced bed rest she had been on. "She's got amazing skills at balancing her time." Aerilyn admitted. "I have no clue how she does it at all."
The ability to balance all of that was amazing. Aerilyn considered herself lucky to balance anything at all. Spending time with her Ahmad was a priority though, even if that meant reading a book or cleaning one of her guns nearby while he played a game. She didn't think she could give up those quiet moments, not for all the success in the world.
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Post by Ylanne on Oct 20, 2019 19:13:07 GMT -6
"I guess that's part of the mystery," said Ahmad between bites of couscous in all its cinnamony goodness. "Between my mother and the Director and you, I'm amazed I've made it where I am. You all court danger and stress in ways that frankly terrify me, and yet you're also so confident about it all. Even with guns in your face. Which I hate, mainly because I'm terrified of the thought of you dying. But it's... " He smiled, pausing with the spoon halfway to his lips. "You get me every time." He loved knowing the women in his life were a kind of badass he'd never be - not because it meant he was lesser but because it meant they could each excel at different things and he would not have to suffer the pressure of impossible expectations.
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Post by demikara on Oct 21, 2019 12:32:55 GMT -6
"We've had training." Aerilyn said and took a bit of her couscous. It was always so tasty. She was so lucky to have such a good cook in the family. "And I know you hate it. I'm giving this guns free job thing a chance because I hate worrying you so much. And getting shot sucks." On so many levels. So she was giving this a chance and she didn't know if it would work at all, but she was going to try. She wrinkled her nose and gently rubbed where she had gotten shot. It had formed quite the scar, and it was new enough to still be tender. Sometimes it felt like she was mostly scars. "Training and practice though. That's how we can be so confident with it all."
She have him a mischievous grin. "And they training took with us, Mister I failed Boot."
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Post by Ylanne on Oct 21, 2019 12:54:05 GMT -6
"Hey," Ahmad said in mock offense, pouting with an exaggerated downturn of his lips. "I totally passed! It just... um... It took me longer! And more times around than just one! ... But I passed!" He still found it hard to believe, but he had somehow come through on the other end with all of his bones and other parts intact, but very much without a shred of dignity left. "I even passed the firearms qualification. Somehow." He'd been better with rifles than pistols, though, and still didn't understand why - the rifles were so much bigger and scarier, and they reminded him of his father, which of course meant he detested and feared them more. "Not that I want to try again. Or test myself to find out if it stuck. Which we both know it probably didn't." He spooned more of the couscous into his mouth, savoring each of the spices he'd added to it. "Mm. I did an excellent job."
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Post by demikara on Oct 23, 2019 8:15:05 GMT -6
Aerilyn took a bite and hummed in appreciation. "I have no clue how you manage it. Cooking is so confusing." How was anyone supposed to know when anything was done or ready or anything like that? And she still didn't understand spices at all. Cooking was an art well beyond her. She smiled. They made a good pair, by her reckoning. Though maybe not the most traditional of pairings. Still, they were a good pair and between them were at least one fully functional adult. "And it probably didn't stick. It's something you have to keep practicing to stay good at."
She supposed cooking must be like that. Maybe if she kept practicing she'd end up good at it, but it was hard to want to practice when Ahmad was such a better cook than she was. Arianne had been amazing too. It hurt, the sudden realization that Arianne would likely never get to cook for them again, or cook for herself either. She closed her eyes and brought herself back to the here and now. Arianne was in prison. That was the simple truth and even if it wasn't right to have such an old woman in prison like this, it was happening.
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Post by Ylanne on Oct 23, 2019 8:37:17 GMT -6
The same realization came to them both at the table, settling thick and heavy over and between them. Ahmad fell into silence, finishing his couscous and then standing to collect all of the dishware and carry it to the sink. Washing the dishes was easy. Carrying the weight was something different altogether. He was efficient in the scrubbing and rinsing and drying. But the old woman had often used this time to share stories that were sobering or heartwarming or amusing in turn, the time it took her to finish the task easy to fill. There was no sudden realization for Ahmad, only the slow ache of absence and lack. The kitchen was not so welcoming now. The lingering aromas from their dinner did little to hide any of it. Come morning, and Ahmad and Aerilyn both could begin their attempt to get through again, anew, but the unease would only remain and intensify. He had no cure, technological, culinary, or otherwise, for this decay. He feared that their love, however deep and full, might yet fail to lighten his burden. No, he did not yearn for the night.
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Post by demikara on Oct 23, 2019 9:19:15 GMT -6
Life had settled into a routine now. It wasn't a happy one, but it was a routine. The bus driver gig wasn't quite working out for Aerilyn, too peaceful for her to handle it. She had been steadily looking for new work, though she was being picky about it. She wanted something that suited her well after all, and that was hard to find. She had decided she wanted it to be more active than her current work though. Something to get her moving suited her a good deal more than her mostly sedentary current job.
The trial wasn't too far away now. A date had been chosen about a month out and Aerilyn planned on being there, had already requested the day off. She planned on going whether she was given it or not too. How she'd get into the actual courtroom, she didn't know, but she planned on trying to do so. It was going to be packed though and she knew it. Everyone wanted inside and not everyone for the same reasons she did. As more news came out, seemingly everyday, about the trial and about all the things Arianne did, it was hard to still support her.
It was hard reconciling the person who had been like a second mother to her with the same person who had committed all these atrocities.
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Post by Ylanne on Oct 23, 2019 9:42:46 GMT -6
Saturdays were supposed to be for relaxing, or at least for attempting to create some distance between the workweek and what strides they could make toward relaxation. Neither of them were ever really relaxed these days. Lisbeth had done her best, it seemed, to at least keep Ahmad away from the worst of things, and he found that he was capable of doing his work but it did not hold the same lustre as it had offered when first he'd begun his tenure. He was older, for one thing, and he was less patient with the hordes of drivers of groundcars and hovercars alike who seemed to relish using Wing City as their personal racetracks, or otherwise as some outlet for pent-up aggression with nowhere else to go. It seemed like most of the city felt that way, far more often than Ahmad could allow himself to be comfortable with. So instead of fighting the ever worse traffic, on Saturdays, Ahmad lounged in the gaming den and made his way through a game or two with short gameplay times for completion while Aerilyn carefully oiled and cleaned her guns, and they gathered in the kitchen or at the car to drive somewhere, for something to eat, once both were sufficiently hungry. Ahmad no longer stopped his day for his prayers the way he knew he was supposed to. He still made an effort on Fridays, but come the weekend, and he'd just glance at his prayer rug and Qur'an, and sigh, and put the game on again. It was too hard to focus on the upcoming trial, let alone whatever God was supposed to be. "Probably going to hell over this eventually," he muttered to himself.
When the doorbell rang, he assumed at first that it was some sound effect in the game. No one really came over that much anymore.
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Post by demikara on Oct 23, 2019 9:54:08 GMT -6
Aerilyn had noticed the lack of prayer, but wasn't certain how to handle it. They didn't often discuss religion, and she didn't know how to handle him not praying even though he usually would. It was hard to put the will on though, she knew. It was hard to work up the will do do anything. "I'll get it." She called down the hall to him and headed to open the door. A quick peak confirmed it wasn't the press, and she opened it curious as to what brought a visitor to their house.
She didn't recognize whoever this was, but that didn't mean much. For all she knew he was some kind of missionary. "Hello? Is there something I can help you with?" They hadn't been expecting anyone at all. The fact that someone had come over without texting ahead of time was weird. All their friends would have done that, not just shown up. This man was older, and she couldn't quite place his race other than darker skinned than her, though that wasn't difficult.
Hopefully he wasn't selling something. Did people even go door to door to sell things now?
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Post by Ylanne on Oct 23, 2019 10:01:21 GMT -6
Malcolm Frazier was relatively certain that he wasn't supposed to be doing this, but Arianne was one of his oldest and closest friends, and he would soon be faced with substantially worse consequences anyway, so he'd made the drive to the Fazari household and come to the door, unsure entirely what would be waiting for him. When a woman answered, he smiled pleasantly and tipped his hat. "Good morning. You must be Aerilyn Fazari? My name is Malcolm Frazier. I'm terribly sorry to be bothering you on a Saturday morning." The skin around his eyes crinkled a little when he smiled. He was dressed in a neatly pressed, dark suit, and collared shirt without a tie and with the top button left undone, the somewhat casual look undercut a bit by the woolen overcoat and hat he wore, a bit out of place in late spring. It was an old-fashioned look, one from a time that neither Ahmad nor Aerilyn had quite lived through, though in Wing City, all types of people seemed to mingle with at least relative ease. "I'm... Well, I'm a friend of Arianne Drulović. I work for the Justice Ministry. I was hoping you might have a few minutes, if that's not too much to ask." His smile turned apologetic.
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Post by demikara on Oct 23, 2019 10:06:14 GMT -6
Aerilyn stepped out of the way and smiled. "Please come in." She showed him in to the living room. "Is there something I can help you with Mr. Frazier? I can get my husband if you need me to." Someone from the justice ministry. This must be the someone Arianne had spoken to her about from time to time. It was nice to finally be able to put a name and a face to an identity at least. Still, she couldn't think of a reason for him to come here, friend of Arianne or not. She was nervous now. The last time the justice ministry had come over was just before the trial, before everything came to a head.
Hopefully it wasn't more bad news. It was probably more bad news.
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Post by Ylanne on Oct 23, 2019 10:16:51 GMT -6
Frazier stepped inside, careful to wipe his shoes on the mat, and then remove his hat and coat, folding his coat over his arm and holding his hat in that same hand. He had always been scrupulously polite, a trait he shared with Arianne. "Sure, I was about to ask if he was home, too. It's probably better just to talk to both of you together." He waited until Aerilyn indicated that he should sit, and then began to make himself comfortable in one of the armchairs. This house was comfortable and cozy, a far cry from some of the places he'd been in the last few weeks, trying to sort through everything. Many members of Parliament were quite particular about their furnishings, and kept homes appointed with fineries spanning the Local Region and beyond. Those were not places that suggested that Frazier would belong. "I'm sorry I wasn't able to call in advance. I didn't have your number, and while Arianne wrote it down for me, I think I somehow managed to lose the paper between the last time I saw her and now."
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