тнιngѕ we loѕт тo тнe ғlaмeѕ ➶ - Stri and Socks

"Of course," Marcus promised. He finished writing down what had been said, though these particular details would never reach the public ear. Instead, he flipped to a new page of his notebook, wrote some things down, and then ripped out the page.
"This is the address I live at. If you think of or run into any more information, you can reach me there." The address was for somewhere at a bit better local than this, but it wasn't enough to imply that Marcus was rich.
"I don't know if anyone in your family can read," he said, more as a statement than a criticism. "But if you can't, you can ask for me at The Journal. They're used to people asking for me." He sounded mildly amused. He didn't know if Elijah would be confident enough for that, but he didn't think there were much more answers he could give. Percival was writing in his own notebook.
Dramatic exit afterward or we're going to be asked one of two very awkward questions, Marcus thought at him with a smile on his face that he directed at Ruth as well.
"Thank you both," Percival said politely. He held out his own paper. "My address."
Marcus turned, heading for the door. He waved over his shoulder before he exited.
Percival finished with, "And if the address doesn't work for you, if you need to talk to me, you can drop by the World. I can't promise they wont kick you out onto the hard street. They aren't used to any visitors. If you mention fire, they'll probably let you in though."
He tipped his head, in something in a long ago era might have been the beginning of a bow. Then he spun and left the same way as Marcus, not leaving time for a question about why two rival newspaper reporters were traveling together or why, if Elijah looked at the two addresses, they seemed to be living in the same building.
Percival, as soon as he reached the exit, picked up speed to catch up with Marcus.
Seems like a dead end, he said. We need to check out that school again.
Marcus hummed under his breath. It'll be another week before there's another fire. The trail is going to grow cold. We might just have to hope that this one burns up in his own flames.
Percival cast a look around, lips pressed together. I don't want to risk there will be any collateral damage.
They continued to walk for a block, then both split up, heading in opposite directions as one another.

It took a moment for the woman to respond. Maybe she hadn't realized he was talking to her.
Her eyelids closed, then opened, and she glanced over at Elijah. It was only after giving him a once over that she seemed to relax and give him her response.
"Hello," she said. Her voice was soft, matching the edge of her eyes. This place was full of ash and shoot and dirt and this did not exclude her. Her hands were dirty from the items passing through them and there was a smudge of dirt on her chin. This made her pale skin stand out even more, but it wasn't a bad thing. She was almost pretty - if you ignored where a machine had caught her hair. Her hair was jagged around the edges, where a deep gash had had to be cut from it. She had probably not been employed long enough to cut the rest of her hair for safety. But her smile was nice.
She looked back in the direction of nothing in particular, but if Elijah was paying attention then he would notice that she kept glancing at the people beside her. Maybe lonely. That seemed part of her expression.
There wasn't a lot of interaction for a second, no real words exchanged, but then the woman passed something down the assembly line again. "Here," she said quietly. Then added, "What's your name?"

There was several moments of work, almost enough that Elijah might have started to believe that the woman just hadn't heard or didn't want to answer. But then she glanced in his direction again and replied with the still friendly enough voice, "Cara."
Like Elijah, she had only given her first name. Maybe she thought they weren't going to be in the same place that long either.
She hesitated a bit on his question of how long she'd been working there. Her head tilted as she thought about it, quizzical enough that her uneven hair drifted away from her neck. She had the faintest outline of freckles, though even those were pale.
"About eleven days," she decided on. Then she looked back down at the menial task they were doing, her hands moving for more in rhythm than Elijah's were. She probably had experience or maybe just good hand-eye coordination to multitask while looking away.
More time elapsed. Or maybe it just felt like it. Then Cara looked at Elijah again and asked, "You're new. Do you have family to support?"
It wasn't an invasive question. In fact, it could easily be seen as an empathetic one. Most of the people here were in the same condition or at the very least wanted to support themselves. She doubted anyone would be here willingly. The streets were better in some respects - at least from her limited view of it. But if you were trying to keep family members out of these jobs and off the streets it made all the difference.

Cara blinked. She appeared to be listening, but about as much as she could get away with. There wasn't a lot to pay attention to, but she seemed to be finding a way. Sometimes she sped up just a little when it came to grabbing an item and then she would turn it around in her hand a bit before passing it on. She seemed to be looking at all the parts of her work, but found the amount of time that she could actually keep a hold of it too quick to learn anything. Her pass to Elijah remained smooth and well-timed and she never seemed to miss the beat when she should give it over to him.
Her gaze drifted back to the boy a second later. Apparently she'd deemed it long enough between saying something to get away with an answer.
"Just myself," she said. Her voice might have held a bit of disappointment. There was no loss in her voice, so it didn't make it sound like she had had anyone to look after in the past. But she sounded like she was unable to, even if she might want to.
There was another lapse of silence. She hadn't asked for more details and didn't look like she wanted to. She seemed interested in polite conversation with Elijah, but not enough to invade his space.
Another couple minutes and then Cara glanced to her left. Then she looked back at Elijah. "Where did you work before?"
Her voice was neutral. She was looking down at what she was doing, running a finger over her sleeve after a second, then passed the part along.

"I heard about it," said Cara, suddenly glancing up. Factory fires weren't that unusual, but when they happened people got concerned. Usually, in situations like this, when they were talking to those who had gotten out.
"I heard no one died," she said, mostly repeating Elijah's own thoughts. Not that there was any reason that she should express much interest in it. She did, however, pay a bit more attention when Elijah mentioned that he hadn't gotten his pay for that week. "I'm sorry," she said. There wasn't much more she could say, other than expressing her sympathy. Times were tough and it wasn't as if she could give him some of her own money.
Or she could have, but that might have looked odd.
There was a bit of talking, but nothing was actually said. For the most part, it was just the occasional words from Cara or Elijah that was about as close to small talk as the space allowed. There was a lot that Cara could have said, but she didn't. She didn't say any of it.
And soon enough, the day had passed enough that it didn't matter. They parted ways and Cara had no idea if Elijah would be back tomorrow or not.
She didn't follow him home. It would have been too risky at such an early stage. But she did note what direction he was going by his scent in the air. If she needed, she would recognize it for later.
Then she went in the opposite direction, chewing on a nail. She followed a stranger instead, her breath slowing. It was easier to track a nobody. And she was hungry.
///
A week or so passed between when Cara felt comfortable walking in the same direction as Elijah. Well, not the same direction. Rather, she timed the interaction like she was crossing horizontally to the street he was following, cutting across his path. They had talked a couple more times during work since then. Cara would have liked to say that they were friends, but she wasn't foolish enough to believe that cursory kindness could be the same thing as friendship to someone used to functioning on their own.
She did blink when she saw him, looking slightly surprised. After all, New York wasn't small. There wasn't a lot of chance that he would have crossed her path now if he hadn't done it before.
"Oh," said Cara. "Hello!" she raised a hand and brightly smiled. She didn't smile that often in the factory. At least not the bright one she had on now. This one was larger and clearly meant for the outside air. It was probably one of the rare things that the smoke and ash couldn't change. She brushed her messily cut fringe of hair aside, absent minded about it. The odd cut didn't seem to be something she was used to. It still looked like the long hair had partly gotten stuck in something and then had needed to be cut hurriedly.
"I was just going to get something warm to eat," she said, posture shifting enough that she seemed to be a bit more opening than her original surprise. "Wouldn't like to come, would you?"
She wasn't sure if that sounded like she had come into more money than a factory job might afford. After all, it wasn't like she should appear well off. But she figured the happy smile might have been telling enough that she recently had gotten enough money to support such a thing. (Or rather, she figured that the small amount of money that she had collected to go to a bit more than just some dusty pile.)
She didn't know whether Elijah would say yes, but she suspected he wouldn't. He had a family to get back to. Then again, never knew ... She was willing to offer such a trivial thing for a chance to understand her ... friend ... a bit more. To know whether he had seen her or not or what his connect to those ... others were. Or she could just follow him. That could work too. It would be up to whether this had ended up time enough for Elijah to know her.

There was a lot to be said for a warm meal. It could tempt the hardest of hearts. Not like Elijah was a very hard heart, but he could be a bit stiff and Cara felt like there was always a tension around him which was difficult to get through. As she might have suspected, it was a bit easier to get through to him when they weren't in the factory.
"Glad to have your company!" she said cheerfully. She started walking in a direction, which could be assumed to be the direction she had been planning to go in if Elijah had accepted her offer. It wasn't in the same direction that Elijah had been heading in, but then again Cara didn't actually know where he lived. The information from Elijah had her looking over at him and bobbing her head a bit. "Yes! That's a good plan." She sounded very fervent about it. Like she had just a bit too much experience with the idea. Or maybe it was more like she actually cared that one of Elijah's family members. She was well aware of the harsh life that factory life was. She didn't think any child should have to deal with that.
Then again, Elijah was dealing with it. She wondered how he managed. It seemed far too much like there was enough on his plate.
"This way," she said, turning down one more street before proudly standing in front of a place that, surprisingly, didn't look too shabby considering the area. As far as she knew, Elijah even knew the place. They weren't exactly that far flung from where they had been before. "Acceptable?" she asked Elijah, as if she was introducing him to something new and possibly special. And from the way she made it sound, maybe it was.
It was a simple deli, with the basic storefront and a slightly faded sign. Cara moved toward the entrance, then glanced back at Elijah. There was nothing much to say about her expression other than it was bright. She was clearly having fun with this and possibly having an upgrade from whatever food she had been having before.
She added, brightly, "Perhaps we can get something for your sister as well." Not 'you'. She clearly expected this to at least partly be her money funding whatever food which they would get.
Truthfully, she didn't actually intend to get much to eat other than whatever it took to keep up her persona, but that was acceptable. It was a monetary sacrifice she was willing to make.

"You say that as if humanity truly has lost all connection with sharing its gains," said Cara with a sigh. But she seemed to have relented her offer of purchasing anything for Elijah and his family. Instead she shrugged, nodding towards the various windows. "I know it because I know a lot of New York. I've lived in and abouts here for a while before moving off in that direction." She vaguely waved her hand in the location of where she actually was staying. Not that Elijah could do much with a direction. The rest of what she said was all true. She had lived in New York for a while. That wasn't how she had found this place, but Elijah wouldn't know that. She had figured he would know this place, however. Familiarity tended to lull someone into a false sense of security. While at work, she had never really shown any suggestion of the fact that she wasn't a believer in the everyone for themselves regardless of their situation principle which Elijah seemed to uphold so much. Then again, she'd never really expressed an opinion on the matter. As it was, she clearly had seen Elijah's principles on the matter and wasn't going to offer anymore. Instead, she asked him, "What do you usually like to get here?" she wondered. "I haven't been here often to know."
She knew that the obvious answer was bread, but she figured some sort of change of conversation would keep Elijah's attention from wondering too close to what she had been talking about.
If she noticed that she was talking too much or acting out of place for someone who usually wouldn't have taken such a position she didn't seem to hint at it. There were enough things - other things - which she found far more important than that. As it was, she figured that trying to not act as she actually wanted to would be far more suspicious.

Cara understood all of that - understood where Elijah was coming from. She'd been there, in his shoes and thinking the exact same thing. He wasn't even necessarily wrong. Maybe slightly pessimistic, but not wrong. That didn't mean that Cara had to like it. It was just the times.
Percival said it hadn't always been like this, Cara thought, breaking her internal character for just a second. Just long enough to be a bit bitter and just a bit less like 'Cara the person who believes'. But the external mask, the one that Elijah had gotten to know, remained fixed. It didn't show the internal turmoil or the wanderers heart - it showed Cara the person who believes and sometimes that was just as much Cara as any other emotion was.
The difference was, she'd promised her self she wasn't going to remember Mr. What's-His-Name and she hurriedly pushed any thought of him away with annoyance. The whole situation was fine without thoughts of anything other than what was in front of her.
She considered what Elijah was saying, mostly just to think about what she might be able to stand. Something with a pickle was out. Not because she couldn't afford it (she did not think about the fact that she almost had enough money to buy the building itself), but because she wanted to have something as bland as possible. Why was food more expensive but also tasted better? It was the reverse of what she needed.
"Club sandwich," she said, musing to herself. "Sounds like a good option." It sounded like the best she was going to get. She resisted the temptation of offering to buy something for Elijah again. She had a feeling if she got something simple that he would get something to match. Which was probably what he should be doing anyway. His pay was the same as hers, but he had more reason to save it. A family at home, his own needs, and less about spending time with a coworker.
"You pick up a lot of interesting rumors," she said. But it was an off-hand comment. She was too busy getting that sandwich she'd been muttering about a second ago. It would do nothing to her - at least she could actually eat it - but the taste would be overwhelming and all for nothing. Everything down to the money she put forward would be a waste to feed her. But it might do for some other aspects.

(Sorry for the fake out post, but apparently I can't mark this thread as 'new' if it's older than 28 days. I'll never be able to find it if I can't mark it new. @.@ You've seen my bookmarks.)

Elijah listened carefully to what Cara had to say. It wasn’t often he indulged his interest in gossip and the like, but he found it was a good exercise in getting to know Cara to recognize what rumors she listened to, or remembered. The sort of things that stuck in her mind. So he was interested to hear what rumors Cara paid the most attention to. When he heard, he wasn’t disappointed. They were the sort of spellbinding, shocking rumors that would enrapture almost anyone – the kind of things he had heard the newsboys turn into headlines sometimes when there was nothing actually interesting in the morning paper. However, it struck just a little too close to home, reminding him almost painfully of his encounter with Percival and Marcus. He had no interest in running into either of them again, but he had kept Percival’s address tucked into his pocket. In case he found anything else out. Did this count as something, or was this just a rumor?
“Do you really think anyone’s actually responsible for the fires?” Elijah inquired, testing out the waters. It would be a lot simpler to believe that his family was safe and that all of the fires had been accidents, but he knew that wasn’t the case. Percival and Marcus knew that wasn’t the case, and it seemed that Cara even knew that someone had to have been starting them. Elijah winced at the idea. He found he didn’t like the idea of Cara getting tangled up in the fires like his own family had been. It had cost them too much to lose both Ruth’s school and his own way of earning money.
“Two stories, huh?” He asked after a moment, trying to imagine it. “Not sure I quite believe in flying men, but I wouldn’t be surprised if there was someone able to pull a stunt like that to convince people to look for something that can’t be tracked by humans.” The paranormal was a thing he didn’t give much thought to, but in this situation it made a lot of sense. If you didn’t want the police or reporters to come after you, make them believe you aren’t human. Then they’d spend so much time looking for the impossible that you could get away easily. People tended to believe almost anything they heard, after all.
“It makes for one hell of a story, though,” Elijah conceded, taking another bite of the food he’d ordered. His eyes widened as Cara coughed, though there wasn’t much he could do. “You alright?” he asked, voice soft.

Elijah finished his own food as he listened, his gaze not leaving Cara. He didn’t know if he believed in ghosts, let alone ghosts that could start fires, but perhaps Cara was on to something. Or perhaps it was just one more rumor going around about things that people had no idea how to handle. There was no reliable way to find out the truth other than by talking to those that were most involved. Distantly, Elijah wondered if he should contact Percival or Marcus. But he didn’t have information, he just wanted information, and given his reluctance to share when they had stopped by… he doubted they would give him any without some sort of price on it.
“I suppose it’s unlikely that they all be accidents,” he admitted. “But I’ve known my fair share of pyromaniacs. It’s not altogether too difficult to believe there’s someone out there starting them because they think it’s fun.” The thought made Elijah sick, but it seemed likely. “Or maybe if there is someone, they’re trying to prove a point.” Guessing at the motives of an arsonist likely wasn’t going to get them anywhere, but it was still interesting to think about. Well… interesting to think about when he let himself forget for a moment how deeply this had impacted his life the past several months.
“Nowhere to be,” he confirmed, even as he stood up and tidied up his place so it would be easier for the deli owner to clean. “It was great to run into you,” he added, offering Cara a smile. “It’s not often I get a chance to get anything to eat with… well, anyone.” He met her gaze, and his smile was genuine. “I owe you one for just getting me out of the apartment. If you’re free at some point in the near future I guess.. I wouldn’t mind saving up to do this again. My treat then.” Elijah wasn’t really used to the whole ‘having friends from work’ thing. The few friends he did have were people he ran into on a regular basis – people he had been friends with since childhood. They certainly weren’t ever anything like Cara.
“Oh,” he said suddenly, turning back to look at her. “If you hear anything else about the fires… well, I think any solution would bring my family a little peace. I’d love to hear anything you hear, even if it makes no sense at all.”

Elijah was, from experience, very cautious. He knew that there were too many people who didn’t much care if a kid and his family survived in this city, and so he made sure he was paying attention to his surroundings, doing his job well, making sure not to get caught up in anything he couldn’t control. However, he’d already failed two out of three steps. If he had been a little more aware of his surroundings, he may have noticed Cara following. Maybe. And he’d already gotten involved in the dirty business of the fires, whether he liked it or not. He just hoped he had been discreet enough to keep his family out of danger.
After his meeting with Cara, he hurried home, trying to make sure he had time to make Ruth and Benjamin food. Who knew what sort of shape his mother would be in, but he needed to worry about his siblings first. Perhaps he shouldn’t have stayed with Cara for as long as he had, but it had been so long since he’d allowed himself friendly conversation with anyone outside of his family. Benjamin and Ruth were everything to him. He couldn’t risk their safety by spending too much time making friends at work that could easily just use what they learned about him to sell him out or get him fired with the hopes that they themselves would get a raise. There were no unions allowed, not in any capacity that would do Elijah any good.
By the time Cara arrived at his building, he had already served dinner to his siblings, and was tucking Benjamin into bed.
After a few minutes, he retreated back to his own room – scarcely a room, really. They couldn’t afford anything with four distinct bedrooms, but Elijah had claimed a little alcove with some semblance of privacy, where he could keep a light on to work late into the night if he needed to. Recently, he had. He made a point of reading the paper every day, getting to know as much as he could know about what was going on around him. Of course, there were sensationalized stories, but… some news was better than no news. And now he was looking for any reports of fires. Anything he could tell Percival or Marcus, because… well, because it seemed important now. If even Cara had mentioned it… perhaps it would protect his family better if Elijah actively tried to help. So far, though, he had found nothing.

Elijah was used to functioning on not enough sleep. He was used to getting by without a full night’s sleep, and there were things he considered more important. Working and getting to work on time so he could support his family. Making meals so they could eat, spending time with them. And then, when everyone else was asleep, taking a few hours for himself, gathering every bit of news he could. If there were better job offers in the paper, he would note them and perhaps apply. But those were becoming few and far between. The job he had was good enough, and the company, he noted, wasn’t bad either. But that wasn’t his primary focus that night.
After finding nothing of use, Elijah blew out his candle, plunging the apartment into complete darkness. He was grateful that Benjamin had learned to sleep with the candle on, it made things much easier on Elijah. And Benjamin said he thought the candle kept the monsters away, so who was Elijah to argue?
Smiling softly to himself, he settled into his bed, pulling the thin blanket over himself. It wouldn’t be enough to keep warm in the winter months, but fortunately those were a ways off. Elijah had enough time to earn enough for a new blanket.
He didn’t look out the window, didn’t notice Cara sitting there. If he had, he likely wouldn’t have recognized that it was her. Friendly colleagues didn’t tend to have glowing eyes.
Sleep came quickly to the boy, likely a result of too many late nights in a row. He wasn’t troubled, yet. No more than anyone else was, at least. He was doing the best for his family, and his mother was getting better, not worse. Despite the threat of the fires, Elijah didn’t actually believe his family would be targeted. And if anyone was, it would be him. He could deal with that. He couldn’t deal with anyone going after his siblings.
That thought comfortably in his mind, he drifted off, remaining motionless in the bed. A perfect target.
If he had known what was coming, if he had known how his family would get mixed up in it, he may have looked out the window. He may have tried to prevent it. But the future was unknowable, and Elijah was blessedly ignorant. That ignorance was going to last, though he didn’t know it yet. Though it would have been better to have the whole story. And life was going to get a lot more complex than a job in a factory for Elijah Liebel.

When Elijah woke up he felt… woozy, for starters. The dreams that had plagued his sleep – worse than the usual nightmares – thudded at the base of his skull, not quite dissipating into the morning light. The light seemed brighter than normal, piercing painfully through Elijah’s eyelids. He’d slept later than he usually slept, he realized as he heard voices out on the street. Normally, he tried to be up before the morning crowd. It meant he could check on Ben and Ruth before heading off to work. He was used to functioning on little to no sleep. It seemed that it had finally caught up with his body. And his head, which was still swimming. Standing up was a challenge, and he had to hold onto the wall to clear the spots that spread across his vision. That wasn’t good. That wasn’t good at all.
He still had time to make it to work, if he hurried. He couldn’t lose this job, not when he had a family to support. There was no time for coffee, and they were already running low on the dirt-cheap brew he’d picked up the last time he’d had a little extra money. He’d just have to go in like this, although he was half convinced he wouldn’t even make it to the factory without keeling over.
“’Morning, Ruthie,” he murmured, ruffling his sister’s hair on his way out the door. “You study hard today, okay?”
---
Ben watched Elijah leave, the dazed look in his brother’s eyes leaving a bad taste in his mouth. As soon as Elijah was out the door, he raced to his brother’s room and scavenged around the desk, in the trash can, even in the pockets of Elijah’s dirty laundry before he found what he was looking for: the paper Percival and Marcus had left. He was going to see them… if something came up. Even if nothing came up. Something told him that was the best thing he could do, the best way he could protect his family. Elijah wouldn’t let him find work – not yet, anyway – and he wanted to help. Even if it meant helping out a couple of strangers.