BBC - the sound
Just getting ready for Halloween over here. Not that the hospital needed much decoration, though Louis’ apartment could benefit from some last minute spookitude.
Song of the Day: Some of you may remember this from the 2006 James Bond flick Casino Royale.
The siblings share a glance before Anatole sighs. “Well, at least you have a memorable keepsake if anything. And an emergency money source.”
A gun enthusiast huh? Highly unlikely. It was probably some gang activity or a robbery gone wrong or something. Anatole hardly thought that anyone could be taken by the excuse of ‘gun enthusiast’ but apparently the woman had and it was kind of dissapointing.
Being gullible like that. Really.
"Less gruesome?" Destan parrots. "Heck no. I’ve seen some shit lemme tell ya. Try t’ sell a place where someone’s died r’ ex-meth lab place r’ even the shit you see on routine property inspections. Th’ only diff’rence ‘s that no-one gives a shit what happens to property managers since we’re all fuckin’ sharks."
"And I wasn’t always in stocks. I used to bartend before that." Anatole adds. "So I can understand your distate for… underage binge drinkers."
Alois glances up from his doodling, having been paying attention he didn’t look so much confused as pensive. It was like being on the edge of an epiphany, but not quite.
"Stocks sounds pretty gruesome." He comments while scribbling about all over the napkins. "Well, depending on your definition." Considering the economic climate and stuff, or something.
~Start Reflective Narrative~
Diet had outright told Louis he’d been shot, though he hadn’t necessarily explained why or by who. At the time she did recall thinking it may have been an attempted robbery, judging from Diet’s appearance. Even then assuming the wound had been a self inflicted accident, or something, wouldn’t make much sense given the fact that the angle and location would have been all weird. Also, later that night months ago, Diet had admitted to lying about his name, so whether he had been telling her the truth about anything that night was difficult to tell and she was aware of that fact. Only during dinner that evening while discussing interests Louis had said reading and Dietums had said guns, lying about interests seemed kind of silly, so she thought that would have some truth to it. Of course she couldn’t exactly share all of this, because confidentiality and professional integrity. It probably wasn’t a great idea to advertise she’d gone out to dinner with a patient afterwards.
She sits quietly, waiting for him to place an order and the waitress to leave before continuing their conversation. ”What? Did you accidentally shoot yourself in the side?” She asks incredulously while clearly remembering that he said something about the bullet belonging to someone else, but she’s going to take everything he says concerning that incident with a grain of salt. “Or did someone else just have really terrible aim?”
She had thought it was unusual that someone who claimed to be interested in guns didn’t want the shiny, probably difficult to make, bullet, but then very few things that night had made much sense.
~End Reflective Narrative~
"Doesn’t someone else take care of cleaning up places like that? Former meth labs sound like a mess to deal with." Louis looks interested and probably a little concerned. Her expression changes as she smiles and tries not too look too amused."So how hard is it to sell a place someone died in? I’m guessing superstitious people are less likely to buy?" A pause and that concerned look is back. "But you at least like what you do, right?"
At Anatole’s mention of underage binge drinkers Louis shrugs. “They aren’t too terrible to deal with, most people were like that at some point. I just don’t particularly care for taking on cases that don’t seem serious when there are more important things to deal with.”