Logs:Lost Joggers

Lost Joggers

Players

Millennium Park
14 August, 2022

Razi and Solomon run into each other and are swiftly joined by additional runners-intos.

August is not exactly the most pleasant time to run. Once the sun hits its apex in the sky, it will be downright intolerable, and so it's quite early in the morning that Razi takes his run. It's hardly /cool/, but it's certainly better than how it will be later. He's been at it for a bit, as diligent and methodical in this as he is in any other aspect of his work. Running shorts, tank, and one of those armbands for his phone -- they all look like good quality gear that comes from having a solid, regular paycheck. He rounds another bend around the park and finally starts to slow to a halt, lifting a hand to check his pulse, which is a thing the media suggests that runners do. There's a healthy sheen of sweat across his skin, but he has the look of someone who's a regular at the pastime.

And along comes another regular; Solomon tends to switch up what parks he runs at, and today the roll of the dice has placed him at the Millennium. He doesn't really look like someone who runs; in his worn shorts and t-shirt, his arms and legs are skinny and spindly - his right arm is actually still bandaged from the wrist up to where it disappears up in his sleeve, but the arm is moving smoothly. He's not yet sweating - that could mean he's just started, but might have more to do with his mien, with its reflective compound eyes and plates of chitin. But when he sees a distant figure coming to a halt who is vaguely familar, he starts loping in that direction, giving the other Lost plenty of warning of his approach by circling around so that Razi can see him before he closes in.

When one is habitually hunted, it certainly makes one aware of their surroundings. And so Razi notices rather swiftly that he's been noticed, but when his gaze shifts to catch Solomon making that circling approach, any potential tension or wariness that may have sparked eases swiftly enough. "Ah," he says. "Solomon." It's a friendly greeting, by Razi standards. He's rarely effusive and trends towards mild and polite a great deal of the time. His gaze does slip over to that bandaged arm, though, with the slightest uptick of one brow. "Are you all right?"

"Razi," Solomon returns, and if it's a bit more of a grunt than a word...well, he approaches Razi, so he must not be _adverse_ to the company. He comes to a halt near the other man and grabs his water bottle from the holster on his thigh, taking a drink. The question seems to surprise him, then he glances at his arm and chuckles. "Fine. Healing. Had a minor disagreement with someone." A quick look over the other Lost. "How about you? Enjoy our last meeting?" A flash of teeth and amusement.

"A minor disagreement," Razi echoes, the /slightest/ hint of skepticism in his voice. Probably not for the 'disagreement' part of the phrase. At the question, his smiles goes a bit thin. "Well," he says, and then he takes a moment to properly consider his answer. "It was certainly...eventful." But then he considers Solomon again, recalling, "You were one of the ones who pursued Barnabas."

There's an eloquent sort of shrug to Razi, and Solomon declines to elaborate further than that. At least, about the 'minor disagreement'. About the Court, he seems downright chatty. "We did. He led us on a bit of a chase, but in the end, came along fairly willingly. I'm not convinced things didn't go exactly as he wished. There...wasn't much he didn't shout in Court, though." A shake of his head. "It's a mess."

"It certainly does seem to have been a predictable end for him," Razi says, and now he's thoughtful, his gaze slipping away from Solomon as he turns it over in his mind. "/Nothing/ sparks paranoia in us more than the threat of a traitor in our midst. The fact that both these accusations -- a traitor, and the leadership lying -- came all at the same time, is a perfect storm. It's either a disaster, or something very purposefully planned."

"It's a reasonable accusation," Solomon says. He flings himself onto a nearby bench, and sighs. "Something clearly got fucked in fairly epic fashion when the Freehold was attacked. While nothing is perfectly safe, and shit happens no matter how many precautions you take - that _was_ a disaster. Whether someone got taken and forced to give up the information, or someone sold us out, or everything just--broke in exactly the wrong way? I don't know. But I can't say I don't think it's worth looking into." His faceted eyes study Razi.

It's early in the morning, the time of day where parks are often dotted with early morning runners. Solomon and Razi seem to have maybe finished their respective runs, standing in a patch of park. Well, Solomon has just flung himself onto a bench, so only one of them is standing now.

Razi steps a bit closer to the bench Solomon has flung himself upon, although he doesn't sit down as of yet. He starts a series of slow stretches, taking ever-methodical care with his routine, but with no sign that his focus on Solomon's words is at all interrupted. "It's not in our nature to be safe," he agrees, something grim and quiet in the thread of the words. "So it's either true, or it's meant to instill chaos. Either way, as you said, it is not just /worth/ looking into, it seems to me that it is imperative." He is quiet a moment, chewing that over -- figuratively, at least -- but it seems a slight shift of conversation when he adds, "Do you have much experience with ghosts? Not from the Hedge, the mortal kind."

Solomon nods. "I'd agree. Unless we want the same thing to happen again. And I don't know about you, but I don't plan to attend any parties with our brethren in the near future." His voice is very dry...perhaps because he never attended parties with the Freehold //before// the attack. Although he hadn't been around for long before that. There's a blink at the change of subject, but he goes along with it. "Only the basics. Dead people, got something they want to do or are just hanging out because they're shredded soul bits with anger attached. Have the same sort of restrictions as spirits...and similar ones to some of those in our area. I don't have a lot of personal experience, though. Only met one or two. Why?"

Gracefully winding his way through any tourists and locals visiting the park before the weekend ends, Kellas blends in fairly well with his attire. Dark denim jeans, black Pixies t-shirt with the white lettering faded from many washes, it is a casual display that matches his slow, almost slinking walk. A cup of coffee with no label and lid firmly attached is in one hand, an opened twin to it in the other that he sips from while faded green cat eyes give the park a seemingly indifferent survey.

Approaching the bench, those eyes get more focused. Stopping a respectful distance away, enough to be seen but not force himself into dialogue, he offers a nod to the two men talking. The whiskers on his face twitching, perhaps, betraying his eager interest.

Elias walks through the park with a cup of steaming coffee held between his hands. He's dressed pretty simply today in a pair of cargo shorts, and a grey tee-shirt with a fadded UoC logo on it. His guitar is on his back, and he seems to be hunting around, perhaps for a place to set up and busk for a few hours on what promises to be a nice day. He looks a little sleepy, but the coffee seems to be doing it's job as there's a cheery hop in his step and he's humming under his breath. His wandering brings him to eventually spot the two joggers, if not Kellas in the distance, and recognizing one he veers off the trail he had been following. "Morning, Doc!" Comes perhaps what might be too chipper a tone.

"I was asked to mediate a dispute between a ghost and a mortal over their mutual late wife's ashes," Razi says, and now there /is/ a hint of dryness in his tone. "It was a strange affair. It seemed rather a risk to ask for my assistance at all, as I don't think the person who asked was aware of anything unusual about me." There's a sense of the incident simply lingering in his head, even if there wasn't a more specific question to pose within it. He shakes his head. "Apologies, I didn't mean to distract from more pressing matters--" But then /he's/ distracted by the sense of another approach, and his gaze slips rather swiftly there to land upon Kellan. He watches the fellow Lost for a moment, waiting, and then says, "Hello." Elias is clearly more confident in his approach, and he offers a little nod there at first.

"Morning, Elias." Solomon peers at the other man, and grins. "Morning person, hmm?" To be far, Sol doesn't look like he hates mornings. "Have you met Razi?" He doesn't actually introduce them, just sort of twitches his fingers back and forth like 'get on that'. Kellas is watched with a bit more intensity, and finally there's a, "Hey," of greeting. His little pedipalps wave merrily, even if his face is more guarded. Finally getting back to the conversation, he chuckles at Razi. "Did you charge for that? And maybe you've just got that...air. That rebellious, iconoclastic air that draws occult figures to you." His eyes are gleaming with amusement.

A familiar face making it easier to approach, Kellas angles towards Elias at the same slow pace he began with. The lidded coffee extended towards the musician, there is humor but also a touch of apology in his tone when he speaks. Low, languid voice emerging in a near purr, "a backup to get you through the day, since I owed you. The snacks I will just have to stay in debt for until the next court."

Once the drink is exchanged, he looks to the others present, gaze lingering a bit longer on Solomon as something like realization sparks in his expression. "Sorry to intrude but I had promised our musician friend here the finest of hotel coffee." The now empty hand moves up to rest briefly on his chest as he introduces himself with a simple, "Kellas."

"I'm a when I roll out of bed person. But today just seemed too nice a day to waste. Decided a little busking was in order." Elias replies still with that awkwardly chipper tone. His smile is shifted to Ravi, a polite nod of the head given and be-taloned hand extended. "Elias Kirk, pleased to meet you." His grin only brightens as he noticed Kellas and the man approaches with a coffee. "Hey, great! I was almost out." He accepts the drink and for the moment has to double-fist coffee cups, but how much he tilts his original one back for a drink, it is indeed almost to the empty point.

Razi manages to fit a clasp of Elias's hand -- his own long-fingered and ink-stained -- before he loses the opportunity to double-fisted coffee. (Which is, let's face it, far more important.) "Razi Andreas," he introduces himself more fully, both for Kellas /and/ Elias's benefit, now. "And no, Solomon," he adds, circling back to that particular topic. "I like the person who asked me well enough, and, if nothing else, it was a novel experience. I don't think I'd want to make a habit of it; I avoided specialties like divorce law for a reason." And there, again, the slight hint of a thin smile.

"Ah. It is a good day for it," Solomon says, squinting up at the clear blue sky. "Probably get a lot of people out here today." And, in truth, the park is starting to fill up with the SOMEWHAT early risers - mostly older folks making for benches and the gardens, or finding a good place to people watch and gossip. He glances at Kellas, eyes narrowing a little at that hint of something on his face. He doesn't pursue it immediately, but continues to stare at Kellas while he answers Razi, "Are you sure? There's probably a lucrative side-gig in legal advice to our sorts, outside of notary work."

Black fur covered ears raise, even if the rest of his body language remains muted, when Kellas hears Solomon's name. "A pleasure, both of you." Acknowledging he might have stared overly long at the man, he tilts his head in a faint apology and waits for an opportune moment to speak, "Dr? Or Professor? I'm not sure which you prefer but I was given your name by more than a few in our community. I was hoping to make introductions at some point into the Leaden Mirror." The next portion comes after a brief pause, as if he had to summon some will in order to get it out, "and they thought you might be able to offer some advice with my attempts at...reacclimating."

Looking distinctly uncomfortable at having spoken for such an extended time, he offers the same tilt of an apology to the other two present when finished.

"Razi." Elias tests the name, brows scrunching like it's setting off something in the back of his brain, but in the end he loses it. "Good to meet you." As Kellas speaks to Solomon, he's bobbing his head, probably being one of those who mentioned Solomon's name in the first place as a good person to know. He drains the rest of his original coffee and pitches it over to a trash can, to free up his hand for coffee number two. "Yeah, if I wait until afternoon the good spots will be taken, but looks like it's stil joggers, who usually ignore me." He shrugs, in no hurry to go set up yet. "Supernatural law specialist. Now that sounds.. fun." He does not emphasize the word fun in any way that sounds fun.

"I do have a favor owed in return for my services," Razi tells Solomon, his tone mildly reassuring. As if Solomon was clearly Very Worried about his lost income. "I don't lack for funds, and often a favor can be more valuable." A beat. "Especially as I don't believe the one who asked me could afford my rates." His gaze shifts back to Elias, and something in his attention shifts, focuses, tries to settle on something in his memory, and then -- ah! There it is. "You work at Omega," he finally recalls. It's not exactly a question; once his mind slotted him into the correct memory, he's confident of the fact. And then his mouth shifts into the most subtle of smiles. Subdued. Dry. "Our magic is built upon the precision of our pledges," he reminds him. "It behooves us to have people who can navigate them with fluency. But no, I do not intend on making a habit of negotiating with ghosts." His attention shifts back to Kellan, catching a bit on his last words. "Solomon is, indeed, known for his ability to make friends." The words are so solemn that it's all but impossible to tell if they're sincere or very, /very/ dry humor. "Are you newly returned to the world, then?"

"Sol. You're not my fucking student, so just call me Sol." Solomon continues to stare, although his tone isn't as grumpy as the words might suggest. "If you want some sort of...official acknowledgement, you want Rook. I'm not in charge of anything and I hate politics." He gives Elias an exasperated look at his bob of the head, then pats his shorts until he finds what pocket he stuck his wallet in, and takes out a business card, thrusting it towards Kellas more like an order than an offering. "My number. I don't know if I can help, but we can sit down and talk." There's a narrow-eyed look to Razi at the solemn observation, and an irritated sniff. His pedipalps turn up in such a way as to suggest a single-fingered salute to the lawyer.

Ignoring any of the potential grumpiness, Kellas takes the card with a bow of his head and tucks it away seamlessly into a jean pocket with dexterous fingers. "I will forgo all talk of politics then and just make a meeting about education then. College was...interrupted in a way we are all familiar with." Looking to Razi next, he gently shakes his head, "to the world, no. To Chicago, yes." Taking a sip of coffee, some of his feline nonchalance appears to be returning as he eases into the conversation, "and if you are a lawyer I could maybe use a card from you too. That return to school might be partially funded by some alternative revenue streams."

Elias holds up a hand defensively as he looks at the professor. "Hey! I just said you're one of the better people to know. And you have to admit that's not completely wrong." He's showing teeth in a wide grin though, half expecting to get at least a little of Sol's ire. Razi's revelation gives him a reason to look away though, and that jiggling puzzle piece in the back of his brain falls into place. "Right! I've probably seen your name on a few things. So much paperwork." He mutters under his breath and gives and exagerrated shudder. Alternative revenue streams has him arching an eyebrow and looking over to Kellas.

"Yes, I'm in the Legal department, but so are dozens of others." As it goes, with corporations this size; Razi certainly doesn't seem offended at his name not being immediately recognized. "Corporate lawyer," he clarifies for Kellas. He considers a moment, and then reaches in his pocket for his wallet, opening it up and drawing out a business card of his own to hand over to Kellas. Razi Solomon, Senior Counsel, something something area of Legal at Omega Pharmaceuticals. More importantly, his cell number is already written in neat, beautiful penmanship on the back. "I am not certain what alternative revenue streams you mean, but I try to do what I can for our brethren." It's still that same mild tone, nothing particularly effusive or sentimental in the statement; it's simply factual. "I'm also of the Autumn Court, since you expressed interest."

Solomon bares his teeth at Elias. "Just you wait for me to volunteer //you// for something," he grumbles, but at the same time, looks just a bit pleased at the sentiment expressed. Not that this stops him from unfolding himself from his sprawl and standing up. "Razi's got more time with the Freehold. Good resource for that. But I can probably help with college. If not at U of C, somewhere else. Depending what your doll did, if you had one, you might want to start over at a two year, then transfer." He waves a hand. "We'll talk. Give me a call. But, for now, I ought to get back to my running. I've got a grad student to yell at later today, and I wanna shower first." A curt nod to the three men. "See you around."

Taking the newly offered card, Kellas gives it a quick scan before it joins the other in his pocket. Another sip of coffee as he considers how he wishes to phrase what he says next, "nothing outlandish. Most of us are trying to make due with any...talents we might have had forced on us or developed." Alternating glances between the two, "contracts, music, etc. Mine just lay more with acquiring and repurposing objects." A light shrug of the shoulder, "if I have any services to offer our community, it's going to be in those areas." Casual tone aside, he does look pleased at the mention of Razi being a fellow court member.

Attention turning back to Solomon before he rushes off, he just nods in thanks to everything offered, not trying to delay him any further.

"I get voluntold all the time, story of my life." Elias says at the doctor's threat, though there's still a worried glance his way as he knows the man can probably find something to make him miserable. He watches the doc depart, shaking his head slowly and sipping his coffee. Then his eyes are flicking back to Razi and Kellas, smiling working its way back into place on his lips. "I still have to keep a notebook of who's who on my desk so I know who I'm dealing with." He confides to the lawyer. "I'll get it someday." He bobs his head in understanding at Kellas explination. "We gotta make do."

There's a brief, subtle shift of curiosity in Razi's dark gaze as he considers Kellan's, but for the time being, he simply accepts the words as they are. "I was luckier than many, in having a life I was successful in reclaiming. At the very least, it gives me a certain amount of security But yes. We all 'make do' indeed." His eyes finish that detailed study of Kellan before slipping back to Elias. "You are in the CEO's office, yes? I imagine your lists will be more focused on the C-suite and VP levels. No particular reason for my name to have crossed your desk as of yet; I haven't made a particular pursuit of that level of promotion myself." There's a sharpness to the cut of his smile, a restrained sort of humor. "I like to think of my professional life as practice for the far more dangerous demands of Court politics."

Draining the last of his coffee, Kellas holds it down at his side. Looking first towards Elias, he smiles gently, "my coffee oath fulfilled, I need to run but always good to see you. Promised snacks are next." Back towards the new acquaintance, the smile is still present and he gives his pocket a tap with a long finger, "very good to meet you. Maybe we can discuss the court sometime, all that has happened of note, anything I can help with." Somewhat broad feline nose wrinkling up in mild distaste, the whiskers nearby raising and lowering, "I am still trying to work these new phones but I will text, so you have my number." One last nod and he meanders off at the same slow rate he approached with.

Elias gives a slow nod. "Yeah, I kind of fell into the position. Or maybe pushed is a better word." There's a rueful shake of his head. "Well, my job is knowing who gets put through and who can be stonewalled or pushed off on someone else, so knowing names is important." He says with an apologetic grin. "I mean, it sounds rude, but he's always busy with something so if everything went his way he'd never sleep. Actually, I'm not sure he does." Elias squints a little trying to recall if he's ever even seen the big boss doze off. He raises the cup in farewell to Kellas as the man heads off. "He's an odd one, but I think mostly harmless." He pauses, looks to Razi, then sighs. "Who am I kidding, we're all odd."

"/We/ are all odd," Razi says, the emphasis subtle but audible. "The Lost. For good reason. It is not my experience that all mortals are." He pauses a moment, considering. "I suppose I don't know that he is. I know he's not one of us, as I've seen him in person, but there are many other things a person can be. In any case, I hope you find satisfaction in the work." Which is a terribly /Wizened/ thing to say. "I imagine it's rather integral. Although I take it from your mention of busking that your passion may lie elsewhere."

Elias just shrugs. Part of working for his boss is keeping some things to himself. "Most humans are odd, they're just better at hiding it." He sighs softly, shifting the strap of his guitar as the guitar slides a little low from gravity's pull. "It pays well." Is what he manages. "Well enough that I can buy equipment I couldn't before, and play more for pleasure than having to survive off it. So, I guess, it lets me do what I enjoy rather than being something I enjoy. Work to live, don't live to work. Right?"

"Mm," Razi says. Thoughtful. "Most mortals are predictable." Mildness lingers rather than anything argumentative, even if there is some disagreement buried there. It's clearly not that important a point to him. "I have heard of this idea, yes, although I've always found it a bit terrifying." Is that a joke? It's probably a joke. There's the tiniest little widening of his eyes, and then it's gone. "But yes, music does seem the sort of calling that is far more volatile than my own. Unless I truly put in the effort of destroying my career, it is likely I would always be able to find work. Arts are, as I understand it, more of a challenge in that regards. It's good that you've been able to find something that can fund your real work." He pauses a beat, and then he admits, "I have been a patron of the arts, but mostly at the behest of my family Fiametta. She's a performer, and the far more passionate audience. But I don't find it unenjoyable."

Elias seems to conceede the point with a half-shrug, half-nod. Or else decided the topic isn't worth getting too far into. "Well, I mean if you have a job you enjoy, all the better. If you like law, I'm glad you get to do something you love. For me? I took the job because it funded what I want and jobs can always be quit if they become to much and you have something to fall back on." He looks down. "Well, once I start saving anyway, right now I'm taking care of a few things, trying to reclaim one last bit of my old life with one last effort. I've got some of it, but not what I really want." He rolls the coffee cup between his hands, looking down at it, and for once that wintery mantle around him matches his expression. "Everyone has art they enjoy, it's just finding the right thing. Taste is perhaps the weirdest thing of all."

"It is an eminently satisfying profession," Razi says of the law. Does he love it? He doesn't say. His eyes linger in silent study of Elias in the wake of that mention of reclamation. Finally, he says, "Let me know if your search requires any expertise in matters I can assist with. Legal, political. Oneiromantic. We all make do, as you said, but all also have our specialties." And there, his mouth turns to a contained smile. "As you say, yes. And sometimes the passion of another can be moving in and of itself."

"Familial." Elias answers softly. "My.. other did a lot of damage in my absence." His lips press together into a thin line. "I can't really blame them for being angry, but it's hard to shunt the blame and keep them in the dark, too." He snorts softly, smile flickering back on to his face. "Ah, you don't need to hear my bemoaning my problems, we all have them." He says, that chipperness in his voice coming back clear as day. "Me? I never get abstract art. I need something to tell or story or it just kind of falls flat, but if someone likes it? I try not to harangue them for it, know what I mean?"

"Ah," Razi responds, and his voice is softer in turn, as if to echo Elias's tone. "Yes, I see. A difficult prospect for external assistance." If he is not the effusively empathetic sort, he at least seems to recognize and acknowledge that particular issue. "We at least become adept at building new family, I suppose. Out of necessity." He inclines his chin in a sort of acknowledgment of Elias's dismissal. "I enjoy things that offer something...thoughtful. Or cerebral. Fiametta's tastes are far more varied, I think. Perhaps you'll have occasion to meet her some time, if you haven't already. She's always thrilled to meet fellow artists."

"Lots of us artsy types around in the freehold, she should be right at home." Elias says, his good mood seemingly fully restored. After a moment he reaches behind and pats his guitar case. "I better go set up my spot before I lose all the good ones. I bet ther performers are going to be out in force today and I'd hate to be shunted to the side by the living statue." He rolls his eyes with a bit of exagerration and laughs. "Good meeting you, call up to my office and we can do lunch in the cafeteria sometime if the boss doesn't have me buried up to my neck."