Rorschach was in his basic blacks today; t-shirt, skinny jeans because he was built like a rock star, and a t-shirt of a che guerra style print but with Audrey Hepburn's face instead. And a slouch in a dark grey that was pushed up to his elbows. He looked every bit the confused artist down to the two safety pins through the back of his forearm. He really hadn't left in teh last couple days which either meant it was too sunny, too cold, everything was fine, or nothing was fine. In short the man just took opportunities to not be a hobo and stay put at his fine ass lady's place now that they cracked the doors on it and he was inside working on a design for a new flier for her because it's what he enjoyed doing. The radio had some Placebo playing out on it and from the stool behind one of the counters his antennae bobbed with his head as he drew just kinda zooming.
It's easy to have coordinating wardrobes when you both mostly dress in shades of black and grey. But Zillah - Zillah still has that sanguine coloring to her. The velvet dress shows that color of heart's blood in it still, as she moves about the shop. Fixing things that don't need to be fixed, adjusting this display here, or that one over there. The cases are full, for the most part. Still work to be done, as is the way of opening businesses. But there's no a helpful sign that insists patrons visit the neighboring Homepage Bookstore. A kiss deposited on one bouncing antennae, in the midst of bustling.
Knock knock. Clay hands sound really weird when you knock them against wood, like someone's banging a ceramic vase against a table. "Shalom," Gisa offers, ducking her head in through the door, provided it's unlocked. Her eyeflames scope left to right, and her carved eyebrows arch up a little bit. "Lovely," she compliments, her eyes flickering. "Are you all busy?"
Rorschach looked up, dark eyes seemed to leak black faintly but he wanred a smile that put his world back in alignment as his antenna dipped from the gesture of affection. He gestured the greeting back to her <<Peace to you too Gisa.> He lifted the pencil he was sketching with to trail along Zilla's arm to the elbow before signing certainly <<I'm not terribly busy. Working on signage. Gisa, you remember Zillah. Gisa. THere. My head is, um, slightly fuzzy. How you?>> Hey, at leas t he was honest about it, judgements of the outter world be damned.
The door is unlocked, and Zillah turns her head as it opens. Her smile is a sharp thing, but that is by nature. There's warmth to it. A shiver, as the pencil traces her arm, and an amused glance to the roach. Adoring. "Gisa, it is good to see you again. And thank you. I'm not busy, not terribly. Just...fussing over things that I do not need to fuss over, while Rorschach works on signs."
"It is easy to fuss over things, yes. I did this as well. For the first week the store was open I moved the plants twice a day. It is good to see you again as well." Gisa pushes her way inside, moving with that same patient cadence that all of her motions seem to have; she's got her messenger bag across her body. "Your head is always slightly fuzzy, Rory. That is to be expected." She clears her throat, props her hands on her hips. "The red skies that you asked me to look into? It is interesting. Probably a dead end in terms of connecting it to the present, but it does give us information of a sort, maybe."
Rorschach signed to Zillah curiously, <<When I block this out for colour what colour did you want to drop on it?>> Important questions there. As for the assessment? Well Gisa wasn't wrong. His head always had static. It was just how it was. T least no one seemed to be activly trying hard to hyjack his signal right now. The discussion of the red skies though? That caused one antenna to twitch. Then aagain.... and again. His lips pursed togheher thoughtfully, and faintly, somewhere inside his face his mandibles tapped together curiously. Said free antenna curled into a sort of punctuation of curiosity bringing him to look from GOlem to shadow to golem again. She had his attention.
Zillah's eyes flash with amusement as Gisa speaks, nodding. "I'm pretty sure I've changed what goes in what case a half dozen times today. But we take pride in the things we sell." She turns to look at that which the bug works on, and smiles. "Black, red, purple. I think those are our colors." For more than the signage, perhaps. "Always did like purple." She looks curious, as well, at the mention of the red skies, and glances to the roach.
"I switched the jewelry and the mezuzot several timesin the displays the day before we opened, and which books went where," agrees Gisa, meandering toward the pair in her systematic movement sort of way. It's a little too natural to be robotic, but it shares a certain uncanny valley sort of quality with robotics -- not exactly a natural movement. "You mentioned November was with you, yes? When you saw the red skies? She changed your clothing color at court, and she colored around Kip at the Wayhouse the other morning. In that sense, I think that trying to connect red skies to the murders is a dead end. It was a Dawn acting colorful. But... that also might mean that the red skies in 1963, which were around those strange murders that Custodian-Elect Whelan was talking about, were connected with one of us who is capable of that kind of manipulation. I do not think it means November. But it might... help us narrow any potential suspects, once we have a suspect list."
Rorschach was almost fideting when he confided <<Was thinking purple. I can get a bloody red in there too. I think your'e right though. We have colours.>> He squint and still seemed cnfused by that notion. Gisa. had. his rapt. a ttention. One antennae slowly lift like an outsourced eyebrow and he signed back <<Someone gone rogue? Possible keepers's agents?That gives us a whole new area to work with.>> He paused and looked to Stevie Nicks' shadow and paused, momentarily distracted by, well jsut her for a whole moment observing her in the natural environment she created. It was, for him, worth pausing to witness. <<Zillah, you think if we look up who some of those victims were we could find out where they're buried and ask them if they can tell us more?>> He looked to GIsa and nodded slowly <> He looked down at teh cricket on teh counter and started to trill-click back and forth with it. Bugs, man they're... yeah.
Brows furrow, fingers fidget. Such is the way of a Zillah in thought, as she listened to Gisa's words, pieced them together with the information that she's been told as of recent. Still a few things missing to give her a full puzzle, but she at least had a clue, these nights. Moving about again, as shadows are prone to do, to stretch and shift as they can. Her eyes settle on Rorsch, and there's a thoughtful tug of her lower lip through her teeth. "It's been a while since I've chatted up the ghosts," she murmurs, "But it is worth a shot. What's the worst that could happen?"
GAME: Gisa spends 2 Glamour
Digging in her pocket, the golem palms a small metal object in her hand. "Well, the red that you saw was created by November, I'm fairly sure. I haven't asked her directly, but the pieces all fit. So no, the red isn't any more harmful than... " Gisa flicks open the top of her Zippo, and the small flame dances up -- and then up -- and whorls in the air for a moment, skating up into the air and pinwheeling twice before disappearing. "It was just an extremely fae individual showing off. Which is possibly what the red skies in 1963 were." Her shoulders rise slowly, and then fall again. "I don't know anything about spirits or ghosts. I think that Librarian Fletcher had a similar idea. You might coordinate with him about it?"
Rorschach blinked to Zillah and shrugged. <<They lunge at us and our night isn't boring?>> Pretty much the worst he could think of right now before he mused <<Soooooo we should also look into notable fae or fae-like occurrances then surrounding colour 1963? I'll see what I can't find out. Funny enough I might just ask the folks at my mom's care famility. Some of those old people are just lucd enough they might know somehting valuable even if others don't know how to listen. I dunno. Big stretch.>> Which meant making people believe people with dementia might be lucid and seeing weird things. It caused him to think of Damion's sister and more things there after jolting an electric shiver through his spine.
|
