- - falling slowly

[dinah]

-outfit-

--F

[/b]our fifty three in the afternoon. Eight minutes past the due date.
Not that it was any surprise to Dinah.
She stood against the tall column outside the entrance of the museum, surveying the busy streets of Valkyrie with squinted eyes, her hand rummaging through her purse on habit and impulse. She pulled out a packet of cigarettes, slipping one out and lighting it with her Zippo before stuffing the pack back in. She wasn't a smoker: the Zippo was one of the main reasons she had the damn things. The lighter was irresistible, though she hated buying it for look's sake if it was an item meant to be used, and not just admired. So, she bought a packet of cigarettes to go with it. And since the Zippo was so nice, she couldn't have just any cigarette. Now, she refused to waste the damn things, and she wasn't in the sort of mood to interact with anyone and sell it to a bum. So, she'd light them, put them in her mouth, suck in the smoke... but not inhale. Not really... not much for further than her mouth. Her father's words buzzed in her memory, about her grandfather she never got to meet due to lung cancer. She would go about sucking smoke until she felt so guilty, she tossed it and smashed it under her shoe, every single one. After this cigarette, she had only three to go. She was too stubborn to accept the fact that she was wasting.

It was a chilly day, mainly because of the winds that blew every few seconds. Dinah had dressed simply, but accordingly, made sure she looked nice, too. Not too nice, so that she was noticed, but nice enough to feel comfortable in public. She was meeting Salem at four forty five sharp... noting the was of that statement. He was late, which she had expected, but her mood was pretty sour at the moment. So, her narrowed eyes burned holes into the foreheads of the men walking up to enter that weren't Salem. What the hell did he have to do otherwise, anyways? Flirt?
'Someone needs their priorities straightened' she thought, with an audible scoff as she blew out a cloud of smoke. A mother passing with her child gave her a nasty look. She returned it, but nastier. People. This is why she didn't like being around people. They didn't mind their own business and always judged. Fortunately, the museum wasn't full of many of those at the moment, and wouldn't for almost a half hour, more than enough time for them to talk.

The museum meeting was an excuse to stretch their legs, and well as time to have a discussion about their situation in a place where it would be harder for someone to secretly mic them. While they had been living in the same place for a bit, they rarely updated, talking about what was next. Some days, she woke up forgetting about where she was and why she was there until she saw Salem, and remembered her two dead friends and the people looking for them. Why she was in Valkyrie... of all the damned places in the world.
She had to give it to Salem, though: it was the first place they hadn't had any trouble.
To that thought, she knocked on the pillar. Not wood but... close enough.
"I swear, if I hear you've been... doing anything with anyone... I'll cut it off. Permanently. Then let's see you give an excuse..." she grumbled under her breath, sucking in more smoke, blowing it out, and giving the cigarette a glare before throwing it down, crushing it under her heel. Her patience was running thin... thiner. That morning had been bad enough. She didn't want her afternoon sucking balls, too.

[/blockquote][/blockquote]
tag salem/becca
words count em later >.>
notes woot woot :3
credit this simple lil template is mine ♥[/font]

[salem]

- - - - - -

---ABOUT FIVE YEARS.

[/size] That was how long it had been since his life was turned upside down. About five years since he was framed. About five years since his name was soiled. About five years since two of his best friends were murdered. About five years of running. About five years of fake passports and identities. Joe Black. That was the name on his passport, on his driver’s license. About five years since he was officially Salem Shepard. It had been about five years since he was given a reason to crave revenge more than anything else in this world.

It was a mess, really. His entire life was based off of lies and more lies on top of those lies. It all started with a betrayal, a framing. He was innocent, and so were the other three members of his team. The man with the highest standing wins though, and in this case, Salem and his fellow combatants were the losers in this battle. The nation seemed to fall right into a trap, believing every word that the media gushed, every falsehood spat by General Truman. The American people believed every damn thing they were told. They were never skeptic or cynical, it was like the news was their bible. No wonder idiots got elected for president time and time again. He could still remember the trial like it was yesterday, the scowling, and the screaming. They were found guilty of something they’d been totally innocent of, and they weren’t about to take that bull shit. They skedaddled, naturally. Life after that wasn’t all too glamorous. Only a few weeks, maybe months, it was hard to remember exact time periods, two of his best friends in the world were murdered, two of his teammates. It was hard, knowing they were gone, that he and Dinah were the only ones left in this world, the only ones left that they could trust. He could only rely on her, and she on him. They were a hell of a team though, never managed to get caught after that, though somehow the government would get leads on them and try fishing them out. Thanks to Syl Rivers, they’d always been a step ahead of the game. It still wasn’t much of a life though, not to Salem. He’d never wanted to run and hide like a coward, but he couldn’t go in balls a’blazing, because that would only get him killed. He didn’t want to put Dinah’s life in danger, as well as his own. It wasn’t a simply bloodlust that he craved, it was the desperate need to clear his name, the need to show everybody that he was right, and they were wrong. Salem Shepard was innocent, and he wanted the world to know it.

Sometimes, nightmares would still haunt him, nightmares about fighting and killing, typical post-war things. Usually though, it was just restless, blank sleep. Tonight was one of his bad nights. The nightmare had been blurred images, fire, gunshots… and then he was alone with Dinah. It was quiet, tranquil even. They were standing outside, she next to him. They were watching the winding road beyond them, and the car racing toward them from the city. It was Will and Jake. They were coming back with supplies. And then the truck exploded, the whole world going up in catastrophe. The fire from the explosion was just about to reach he and Dinah before he’d jolted forward, wide awake. Sweat glimmered off his forehead and chest, his breathing uneven and ragged. It took him a moment to remember where he was, to realize he was still alive and safe… for now. Looking to his right, he saw Dinah sleeping in silence, looking totally peaceful. The young man sighed, leaning over to caress his head in his hands, shaking it ever so slightly. ”Damn it,” he whispered. Instead of waking up his companion, he threw on a shirt and ruffled his hair. The clock read “12:04 a.m.,” the green analog numbers glowing dimly. Salem was never the type to get drunk until he passed out. He was responsible, and usually knew his limits pretty well. Sure, he had a couple beers with his buddies back in the day, but there’d been very few occasions where he’d consumed alcohol over the past five years, very few. It just wasn’t a practical thing to do, and nobody could ever be too alert on a hangover. Here in Valkyrie, however, he felt unusually safe. Maybe it was because his little rat on the inside was currently in the same city, so she’d be on track. Maybe it was that he’d had no problems here yet. Maybe it was how small, and quiet, and unrealistic a place it was. Maybe it was the distraction from newcomers provided by the earthquake. Maybe, though he was too frightened to even consider this option, but maybe it was just the loss of hope and motivation. Maybe this was getting old, and maybe he was beginning to give up.

Either way, no matter the reason, Salem silently snuck out of his inconspicuous dwelling and went to a bar somewhere downtown. He didn’t know what the hell it was called or anything, all he knew was that he was in hopeless need of a drink. The fugitive sat down at the bar, ignoring all the people in it, dancing or doing whatever it was they did. He looked groggy and sleep-deprived, asking the bartender for something strong. The guy did as requested, making a vibrant colored mixture and sliding it Salem’s way. Downing the drink quickly, Salem pursed his lips, and then proceeded to smile crookedly. ”God, I’ve missed that.” he laughed to himself. ”Hmm, taken a break from the fast lane, I presume?” a female voice asked him. He looked over to see a young woman, dressed in a casual but attractive way, her long blonde hair pulled into a ponytail, her vibrant green eyes meeting his own. ”Fast lane? Nah. Just from the drinks,” Salem retorted, shrugging. ”Oh, so you’re the exciting but sober type?” Her lips played with a faint smile. ”Didn’t know that was a specified type, but that’s one way of putting it,” he laughed. It’d been a while since he’d interacted with somebody normal, since he’d done something so casual. ”It’s a type all right, just a rare one,” she looked away momentarily before meeting his gaze again, ”I’m Shelby,” she then announced, offering her hand. Salem shook it, ”Salem,” he replied. Sure, his legal documents said his name was Joe Black, but he never really used those. ”Pleasure to meet you, Salem,” she grinned at him now, ”Hey Bill, could you get my friend here another drink?” she called. The bartender, Bill, laughed, ”Making new friends, Shelby?” He poured a few shots, sliding them Salem’s way. He took them graciously. The conversation with the “Shelby” stranger went on for about thirty minutes, and the intoxicated ex-navy seal finally dropped the, ”Let’s get out of here?” bomb. Shelby laughed, ”Oh honey, as much as I’d love to, my shift starts…” she looked down at her cell phone, ”Now.” She fluidly hopped over the bar, ”Go home, Billy boy,” she crooned, shooing him away, ”I’ll get Salem here another drink.”

- - - - - -

”Morning sunshine!” a voice echoed in his head, ”You oughtta get out of here, sir, we’re opening up again in an hour or so.” His eyes fluttered open, taking a moment to focus on the girl in front of him. Her name came back to him slowly. Shelby. ”What happened?” he groaned, slowly picking his head up off the bar, yawning. The girl hooted with laughter, ”Well sweetheart, you kept drinking and drinking, and… well, drinking. It’s a wonder you’re still alive.” The drinking part became obvious. ”Hello, hangover,” her muttered to himself, blinking hard, ”What time is it?” Shelby wandered away from him, wiping up the counters, ”Four o’clock in the afternoon.” Salem threw his head up, ”What?” he exclaimed, and then moaned as a dizzy pain shot through his head. ”Yeah, big ole boss said to let you just sleep here since you were passed out and we didn’t want you trying to get home in your state of mind,” she seemed so nonchalant, like this always happened. Salem rubbed his eyes, ”Dear God,” he groaned again. The girl snickered, handing him some sun glasses, ”These will help,” she stated firmly, holding back the amusement in her voice. He took them and slid them onto his face, actually feeling he could open his eyes, ”Was it bad?” ”Not the worst I’ve seen.” Well that was a relief. And then it hit him. Dinah. Oh good Lord Almighty, she was going to be furious when she found out. He was supposed to meet her at the museum soon. ”Shit. I need to look more awake,” he sighed. ”Easy, sugar. I can help you out.” A bucket of ice water and a piece of gum later, Salem was looking at least decent. He felt more awake, but still it was like a tornado reeked havoc inside his head. Either way, he was going to have to go and face Dinah at some point.

After leaving the bar, he wandered around downtown, not exactly sure where he was going. At this point he was going to be late anyway, so what was the rush, right? It took a while before he ran into a sign that said “Valkyrie Museum of Natural History” in bold letters with an arrow. Sure enough, after following the arrow a ways, he saw the building which, he hoped for his sake, happened to be his destination. Inhaling a deep breath, and turning his back to the chill of the wind, Salem walked toward the entrance, shoulders straight. He made his way up the steps, praying to God he wouldn’t feel the need to vomit. Spotting Dinah almost immediately, he attempted to put on his most winning grin, thankful for the pair of dark sun glasses. He snuck up behind her as quietly as he could manage, and then laughed, seeing her smash her cigarette or whatever the hell she called it into the ground with obvious irritation, ”Haven’t I always told you smoking is an ugly habit?” he dodged backwards, just in case she was feeling violent and decided to hit him. A teasing smile was plastered to his unshaven face, ”Miss me, D? How’s your day been?”
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status•finished.
tagged• Dinah !
comments• sorry its so late! And sorry its bad/awkward
attire•click!
credits•format inspired by vsiders. banner goes to lainey.