(2018-03-23) Filthy Habit
(2018-03-23) Filthy Habit
Summary: Smoke 'em if you got 'em - but not in the park.
Date: IC Date (2018-03-23D)
Related: None
Player Characters: Eddie, Ida, Russell

Four acres in size, the Grimhart Park mainly consists of several inter-connected Edwardian style knot gardens. They come in squares, overlapping each other so that here a thyme border breaches one of box, there a neatly clipped row of marjoram rams right through one of lavender. The paths are made from recycled stones from the old Grimhart mansion, many still scorched from its pyre.
In the back of the garden is a gargantuan hedge maze resembling a tangled green ribbon. Known as the Hart Knot, it covers the north acre in fanciful loops. Surrounding it is a virtual zoo of tidily kept and cropped topiary beasts.
The southern and front-most acre holds artificial brooks and ponds, numerous bridges and islands filled with willows and rhododendrons grown to rainforest size. Many local waterfowl make their homes here, and the largest island offers a cozy little cafe along with a tiny, upscale vegetarian restaurant.
To the west, behind a line of cedars lies the communal gardens of Port Angeles.

Officer Russell here proudly wears the standard blue police uniform with his Sergeant rank banded across the left chest just above his surname. The short sleeves reveal the muscular structure of a man that frequents the gym along with broad shoulders and a healthy demeanor. He stands just an inch shy of six feet which is around the average height for men around the city.
He's a bi-racial man with apparent asian and black american heritage. When he smiles it's a bright and welcoming flash of pearly white teeth aligned near perfectly. Dark almond shaped eyes rest above high cheekbones on a rounded face. His black hair is buzzed short and around thick dark salmon lips is a well trimmed short haired goatee.

Ida's Mask:
A Gibson Girl lookalike just over six feet tall, Ida's considerable endowments only accentuate her voluptuousness, with legs to make holy men forsake their vows and curves to make them forget their guilt. The hands are shapely, nimble fingers ending in short nails, shiny like jewels. Tawny hair spills in a silky cascade, red-blonde strands kissed by light and shadow. The thigh length tresses have been gathered into a high french braid with the excess left loose, solitary ringlets dangling to frame her face and play off her golden skin.
Glacial blue eyes are darkened by pupils dilated as though with drugs or arousal, surrounded by a mesh of fine laugh lines, arched brows full and dark. Severe cheekbones hollow her cheeks, faint dimples by the corners of sumptuously full lips. Her teeth are shockingly white and flawless.
She wears a perfectly tailored 1940s walking suit in pearl grey virgin wool with black silk lining, its pencil skirt pleated strategically for beautiful movement. A white silk blouse shows some ruffle at the cuffs and collar, tiny mother-of-pearl buttons glimmering. The sturdy block heels of her shiny black little leather shoes adds a few inches yet to her height, while still allowing quick movement. When out in the rain a distressed crimson leather trench with a profusion of pockets helps keep her both warm and purseless. Her only jewelry is an cut-rate chain around her neck with a double pair of viciously bent and twisted gold rings as ghoulish pendant.

It has been quite the eventful weather day in the coastal part of Washington. Pounding sheets of rain followed by an onslaught of hail, then more rain. And then… nothing. The night skies are still full of ominous foreboding, overripe clouds mixing anvils and decomposing sheeps in shape, lit by the city's lights into unnatural shades of bruise purple, dead brown and a lurid shade of orange. Here and there they tear apart to reveal distant stars. Yet, still, they hold the rain back for now. The night below is just very very humid, and the air has cold teeth despite the lack of wind.
Ida is standing by one of the bridges going towards one of the many islands here, posed like she owns the place, legs crossed just so, hand tilted just so as she works on her cigarette and defiantly sends smoke circles up towards the heavens. In the distant, faint music can be hear from the pretty little French cafe on the bigger island. Something jazzy, low and dark.
I'm gonna walk up to her gate
And see if I can get it straight
'Cause I want her
I'm gonna ask her

Part of the beat required both Russell and his partner, Officer Peck, to ensure the park curfew would be enforced. There was another hour minutes before they had to particpated in the bad task of ushering people elsewhere. Gentle hands of course. Russell checked in on the radio to dispatch as his partner stepped away, following lure of the string pluked jazz coming from the island. "You ever been?" The lesser experienced officer asked, indicating to the cafe.
Russell checked over his shoulder to the eatery indicated, still lively at this hour. "Nah. Heard it's good. Sorta hard pressed not to find good food around here." Peck then eyed around as he noticed the woman smoking by the bridge. In all his blue suited pride Pech approached Ida with both hands resting on his gun belt firmly secured around the hips. "Excuse me ma'am. This is a public park. I'm afraid I'll have to ask you to put your cigarette out."

Eddie's on the bridge near by, leaning against the railing and barely looking like he owns his own pair of shoes. Watching the water, mostly, but looking up every once in a while to watch Ida's smoke rings disappear into the night. He can only ever manage about one out of three, when he tries. "Showoff," he says, putting on a disgruntled face but sounding more amused than anything. He trades the sham sour look in for the genuine article when the cops come along to do their cop thing, but he gives the kid in blue a quick look up and down and returns to good humor quickly enough, shooting Ida a smirk and a little do-your-thing gesture. She's had good luck with government employees, lately.

It's a tall glass of water rookie Peck has walked up to. Ida is a touch over six feet when barefoot, and right now her boots bring her up to around 6'2-6'3. The tawny-haired woman tilts her head, smiling as she puts out her cigarette. It's a thicker, shorter, old fashioned kind, with a distinctively tarry smell. She had barely even gotten halfway through it, so tidily goes about extinguishing and salvaging the remainder. Her voice goes well with the faint music, she sounds like the archetypal torch singer, all smoky dark and sweet, "Certainly, officer…?" The package she puts it back into has some French writing on it. Her glacial blue eyes have a friendly look to them, as she looks between the two officers. "I apologize, I will keep that in mind in the future." Her smile deepens, showing dimples.
Is you is, or is you ain't, my baby
The way you're acting lately makes me doubt
You is still my baby, baby
Seems my flame in your heart's done gone out
Leaning lightly against the bridge railing, save for a quick flash of a smile to Eddie, Ida continues to look between Peck and Russell with apparent curiousity. The moon has started to rise, it's barely halfway crescent adding a faint ghostly gleam to the horizon, here-then-gone amidst the clouds. The music continues to play, and there's the occasional far-off laughter drifting in from the cafe.

"Peck ma'am." His chest puffed beneath the street blues. That chin rose higher. He was attempting to appear impressive against the svelt figure that towered his height by at least four inches. Half a foot. Officer Russell doesn't miss the not so subtle body hints his partner is exhibiting. He cuts in with a clear, "Thank you." Along with the signature smile of a proud citzen of the city, all teeth and a single prominate dimple. "Nice night though. A bit cold isn't it?" Russell looks between the pair of them lounging against the bridge's railing. "You lovely folks got anything planned for the evenin?"

"Filthy habit," Eddie tsks as the cigarette goes out, "I keep telling her." He struggles to keep a smirk off his face at the rookie cop's pufferfish routine, projecting the air of somebody enjoying a piece of outdoor theater. He loses the battle completely when Russell asks that last question, flashing a crooked grin at the tall woman. "You hear that, Ida? We're lovely." He shakes his head and goes back to watching the moon on the water, before his face can get him in any more trouble than it has, already. "Just out for a stroll, officer. Nice cool night. Not too many more of those in store, this year."

"Officer Peck, it is a pleasure to meet you." How often does he get to hear that, spoken with such warm, sweet honesty? And then Ida's eyes, that glacial shifting blue from indigo to teal, they change her attention over to Russell more fully. "And you are most welcome, officer…?" She warms up the nudge for his name by offering her own, "As the kind gentleman states, I am Ida. This is," she gestures, pausing long enough to let Eddie insert his own preferred introduction, "and you are quite right, it is a bit chilly tonight. And yes, we were just walking, discussing where to go for a late dinner. I am trying to talk him into this nice Italian place a few blocks further towards the water, but he is feeling for something other. Do you have any places you especially like yourselves?" She moves a hand down her coat, feeling along the leather - in a way that accidentally accents her curvaceous figure - before pulling a pair of slight faux suede gloves from a hidden pocket. They are the same shade of pearlescent grey as her suit, beneath the crimson trench.
A woman is a creature
That has always been strange
Just when you're sure of one you find
She's gone and made a change

"Eddie Brundle," Eddie interjects at the appropriate moment, stopping just short of adding 'Private Eye' purely out of habit.

"Russell, miss." The more professional of the pair answered over the hushed radio of dispatch calling out a series of numbers within short orders. Contiuing in a friendly manner as Peck stared with that stupid smile on his face. "Well, Italian sounds pretty good. Not a bad choice. I like to mix it up a little bit with sometimes a home cooked meal but Joanne's Country kitchen is pretty good if you like a bit of kick in your meals. Or if you're desiring something more refined D'Angelos is also a good choice." To indicate which each of the restraunts were by navigation he pointed in opposite directions while speaking. Peck nodded. "Yeah, D'Angelos is real fancy. Real nice too."
"I was thinking hotdogs," Eddie says, spinning one finger around through the air like a ferris wheel in miniature, "from 7/11. I guess I'm out-voted, though." He lets out a defeated sigh and starts patting himself down for a cigarette, before he remembers how this whole conversation got started. "Haven't tried Joanne's yet, but it sounds nice. Any place with 'Country' in the name has to know how to fry anything on the menu, at least. I get enough refinement just being me."

In the meal battle between cucina nuova Italia and the venerable 7/11 menu, Ida can't help but laugh. And reach for a concession in the name of peaceful dinners. "Joanne's sounds like a most pleasant establishment. I believe we have an agreement." She smiles fondly over at Eddie, one hand (sadly, empty of cigarettes) reaching to her chest. "Would you agree?" She lowers her lashes, peeking through them at him as if coy. Then startles, as a raindrop lands right on her hand. You can smell it in the air - it's the first of many. The clouds are finally starting to unleash again. "Darling. We should go." She reaches out to the rumpled sleuth, touching his shoulder, then flashes her smile to the duo on patrol again. "Officers. I hope you both stay dry and have a lovely, peaceful evening."

"That's not the type of place to bring a lady at." Peck answered disgustedly at the suggestion of hot dogs, or whatever that station stuffed within the packed sacks. Russell made a chuckling sound, "Can't beat an old fashioned chili dog either." The few drops of rain that had fallen made the man raise his hand as a shield over the eyes. "We will. You both have a wonderful evenin." Officer Peck nods. "Have a nice night!" A little too enthusiastically

"I'll remember that, next time I bring a lady somewhere," Eddie grins at Peck. He gives Russell an appreciative sort of nod, at the line about chili dogs, then scowls up at the sky as the rain makes its appearance. "Thanks for the directions. Stay safe, officers. There's some real freaks in this town." He gives a little wave, and heads off with Ida.

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