[The netspeak is probably lost on him, but that doesn't occur to her as she instinctively types it out with expert speed and slips her phone back into her pocket. Bags in hand, she's knocking on his apartment door a few minutes later, dressed a little more casually than usual. No makeup, hair in a ponytail, sweatshirt and leggings. This is a friend comforting a friend, not a fashion show.]
[He beckons her inside, smiling at her a little, although he's not quite back to himself after experiencing that whole mess. Still, he's glad to see someone, glad that she cares enough to visit.]
Thanks for comin'. I was startin' to think I'd have to spend the evenin' sober.
[She'll always care, no matter what. He's her friend first, somebody she may be attracted to second. There's almost nothing he could do that would have stopped her from showing up.]
Doubtful. I saw a whole bunch of other people offering. [She lifts one of the bags and shakes it.] I hope you like Chinese.
[There's an awful joke somewhere there. Nobody touch it.]
I've never met a person who didn't like Chinese food. Wouldn't trust 'em if I did meet 'em.
[And he finds himself starving. Who'd've thought that dying and coming back to life would take so much out of you. He heads towards the little table. His apartment is surprisingly well-furnished; it looks like he's really put in some efforts to make it homey.]
[Surprisingly homey and clean, though not too surprising to her considering how much care he puts into his clothes. He was the one to show up to Ginny's party in a tux. But still, a bachelor is a bachelor. There are stereotypes for a reason.]
Same for somebody who doesn't like liquor.
[Speaking of the firewater, she pulls out a bottle of whiskey and a bottle of vodka, along with a carton of orange juice. They could share, but Angela's betting on him needing the entirety of the whiskey after his experience.]
[What goes down in these four walls stays in these four walls. Besides, she plans to stay relatively sober to make sure he's steady enough to make it through the night. But before any bottles are opened, she needs to eat something to soak up the alcohol so she doesn't hesitate to pull out a carton of noodles and a pair of chopsticks, eating right out of the box. To hell with proper plating.]
At least you aren't a depressed drunk. [A pause and a smirk.] Or are you?
[She's teasing, keeping the mood light before delving into the real meat of her visit.]
[Angela's quiet for a second, watching him carefully, and taking his words to heart. Well, she's sure she'll have a depressive drunk on her hands in a few minutes. Good thing she's experienced in handling them and being the depressed drunk so many times before.
Also, she is totally judging him. Harsh judging going on over here.]
Then don't hold back when you do start drinking tonight.
[Actually, it's more like pacing herself. She can't comfort him when she's sloppy drunk and slurring her words. She'll eat, pour herself a shot or two, and let him purge as needed. To be honest, from the little she does know about him so far, dying aside, Angela feels like he never gets an outlet like he should have.
[Admittedly, she has a weak stomach, but working in the lab for over five years now strengthened it a bit. She can will things to stay where they need to be for the time being.]
So I was walkin' with a friend, Penny. 'n out of nowhere, this guy...
[He shrugs.]
Jumped outta fuckin' nowhere 'n attacked her. So I got in the way, y'know, tried to distract him, 'n he attacked me instead. Ripped my throat out with his bare teeth. Tried to fuckin' eat me.
[Angela chews slowly as Jimmy talks, preparing herself for the vivid details. It's a short story, light on the graphic specifics, and in any other world, unbelievable, but here in the city, it's as real as the zombie sheep that left the silvery pink scar on Angela's arm.]
Vampire. Or, um, former vampire? He was cursed, anyway. Can't really blame the guy.
[Although he'd've sure liked to. It would have felt good to be able to get some revenge, but when he and Frankie talked and Frankie actually apologized, he didn't have it in him to hold a grudge.]
[Curses make people do stupid things, evil things, and while an apology goes a long way, sometimes it doesn't heal things one bit. Angela can see this is the case here. But there's something else she wants to touch on.]
Doesn't matter in the end. You did something honorable. Let's not forget to give yourself credit here.
People keep sayin' that, but honestly, it was just instinct. I wasn't thinkin', "Oh, I'm gonna save someone's life," I was just doin' what felt natural.
Instinct or not, it was still a good thing. More than what I could have possibly done.
[She's a chicken and easily panicked. Chances are she would have froze on the spot.]
And maybe it ended badly, but people have died for less or for stupid reasons. This says a lot about you, Jimmy. This says you're a damn good friend, a brave man, and somebody Penny should be grateful to for a very long time.
Or maybe it's just you. Less military and just you.
[This is going to be an uphill battle. Good thing Angela's set to be here all night. She sets her food aside and cracks open the vodka, pouring it into a plastic cup she has tucked in the bag and following it up with a splash of juice.]
Are you looking for something to redeem yourself? Because if that's the case, I don't think anything will be good enough for you by the way you're talking.
Yeah, I'd like to redeem myself. Wouldn't we all? I mean, there's a lot that we've all done we ain't proud of. I've got more of it than some people, I guess, but I'd like to make up for some of it.
[She nods over the rim of her glass. There are some things she regrets, minor things, nothing that ruined lives or anything, but regrets all the same. Angela may never get the chance to fix things, being stuck here and all, and ruminating on it will help no one. Jimmy doing the same will have him going around in circles, trying to find a way to absolve himself, but never being satisfied in the things he does.
A sip later, she decides it's best to be direct before he gets too drunk to skate around her questions.]
[Another long swig of his drink, a shake of his head.]
Droppin' out of college. Joinin' the military. Not bein' there for my fiancee or my son. Gettin' involved in...
[A pause. How does he phrase this without sounding incredibly criminal?]
Less than ethical activities. Always tryin' to live up to what the guys who raised me wanted me to be. Insistin' to my fiancee that we had to get married, just 'cause we had a kid. Bein' indirectly responsible for her death. Y'know. That kinda thing.
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Booze and food sounds damn good to me. I live at...
[And he sends her the apartment building and number.]
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[The netspeak is probably lost on him, but that doesn't occur to her as she instinctively types it out with expert speed and slips her phone back into her pocket. Bags in hand, she's knocking on his apartment door a few minutes later, dressed a little more casually than usual. No makeup, hair in a ponytail, sweatshirt and leggings. This is a friend comforting a friend, not a fashion show.]
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[He beckons her inside, smiling at her a little, although he's not quite back to himself after experiencing that whole mess. Still, he's glad to see someone, glad that she cares enough to visit.]
Thanks for comin'. I was startin' to think I'd have to spend the evenin' sober.
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Doubtful. I saw a whole bunch of other people offering. [She lifts one of the bags and shakes it.] I hope you like Chinese.
[There's an awful joke somewhere there. Nobody touch it.]
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[And he finds himself starving. Who'd've thought that dying and coming back to life would take so much out of you. He heads towards the little table. His apartment is surprisingly well-furnished; it looks like he's really put in some efforts to make it homey.]
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Same for somebody who doesn't like liquor.
[Speaking of the firewater, she pulls out a bottle of whiskey and a bottle of vodka, along with a carton of orange juice. They could share, but Angela's betting on him needing the entirety of the whiskey after his experience.]
Good thing I know you love it.
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Sayin' I "love" it makes me sound kinda like a drunk, doesn't it?
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[What goes down in these four walls stays in these four walls. Besides, she plans to stay relatively sober to make sure he's steady enough to make it through the night. But before any bottles are opened, she needs to eat something to soak up the alcohol so she doesn't hesitate to pull out a carton of noodles and a pair of chopsticks, eating right out of the box. To hell with proper plating.]
At least you aren't a depressed drunk. [A pause and a smirk.] Or are you?
[She's teasing, keeping the mood light before delving into the real meat of her visit.]
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[He's grabbing for some food, too, but he's going to use a fork, because he never got the hang of chopsticks. He doubts she'll judge him too much.]
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Also, she is totally judging him. Harsh judging going on over here.]
Then don't hold back when you do start drinking tonight.
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[He opens the bottle and pours himself some whiskey, straight, not bothering to add a mixer to it.]
You'd better have some, too, 'cause I don't wanna drink alone.
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[Actually, it's more like pacing herself. She can't comfort him when she's sloppy drunk and slurring her words. She'll eat, pour herself a shot or two, and let him purge as needed. To be honest, from the little she does know about him so far, dying aside, Angela feels like he never gets an outlet like he should have.
Tonight, he has one and has free reign on it.]
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[He doesn't want to make her lose her appetite, even if there is a part of him that's dying to talk about it.]
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[Admittedly, she has a weak stomach, but working in the lab for over five years now strengthened it a bit. She can will things to stay where they need to be for the time being.]
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[He shrugs.]
Jumped outta fuckin' nowhere 'n attacked her. So I got in the way, y'know, tried to distract him, 'n he attacked me instead. Ripped my throat out with his bare teeth. Tried to fuckin' eat me.
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A cannibal?
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[Although he'd've sure liked to. It would have felt good to be able to get some revenge, but when he and Frankie talked and Frankie actually apologized, he didn't have it in him to hold a grudge.]
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[Curses make people do stupid things, evil things, and while an apology goes a long way, sometimes it doesn't heal things one bit. Angela can see this is the case here. But there's something else she wants to touch on.]
Doesn't matter in the end. You did something honorable. Let's not forget to give yourself credit here.
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[She's a chicken and easily panicked. Chances are she would have froze on the spot.]
And maybe it ended badly, but people have died for less or for stupid reasons. This says a lot about you, Jimmy. This says you're a damn good friend, a brave man, and somebody Penny should be grateful to for a very long time.
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[He shrugs and takes a small bite of food.]
It can't redeem a lot of the other shit I've done.
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[This is going to be an uphill battle. Good thing Angela's set to be here all night. She sets her food aside and cracks open the vodka, pouring it into a plastic cup she has tucked in the bag and following it up with a splash of juice.]
Are you looking for something to redeem yourself? Because if that's the case, I don't think anything will be good enough for you by the way you're talking.
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A sip later, she decides it's best to be direct before he gets too drunk to skate around her questions.]
What do you regret so much?
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[Another long swig of his drink, a shake of his head.]
Droppin' out of college. Joinin' the military. Not bein' there for my fiancee or my son. Gettin' involved in...
[A pause. How does he phrase this without sounding incredibly criminal?]
Less than ethical activities. Always tryin' to live up to what the guys who raised me wanted me to be. Insistin' to my fiancee that we had to get married, just 'cause we had a kid. Bein' indirectly responsible for her death. Y'know. That kinda thing.
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