08.22.3013: Family Dinner
Summary: The day after Lincoln finds Rook, they go to dinner with Nitrim to get to know each other.
Date: 22 August 2013
Related: Half Is Better Than None
Ithaca Lincoln Nitrim 


A Steakhouse on the Ring
See Log
22 August 3013

Rook hovers outside the entrance to the restaurant that Nitrim sent her the address of. She is smoking a cigarette, wearing a hooded tunic, jacket, and leather pants with heavy boots. Her -ever-present backpack is slung over one shoulder as she waits for her noble friend to appear before she even considers trying to go inside.

Leading Lincoln through the bazaar towards the mid-grade steakhouse is Nitrim Khournas. Long jacket, cigarette smoke, and copper-colored jewelry as per the norm. Mid-conversation with Lincoln, he appears to be trying to tell a story to the man who her has yet to secure the trust of. "…and so they really came up out of the ice, I think. They're a lot more clever than you'd think. They also kick like mules and all of that strange armor and tubing makes it really hard to know where to hit them." Nitrim grins. "So when in doubt, I side with fireball."

Linc's nodding. Trying to not be rude after he and Nit have come to some kind of understanding.. He's dressed casual, like when he saw Rook before. Several corded necklaces are hanging from around his neck. "Sure… when in doubt, use fire." His eyes are forward though, searching for something. Once they land on Rook, he seems to relax, like he was afraid she wasn't going to show.

Rook looks up at the familiar voice of Nitrim, and the recently acquainted sound of Lincoln. She stubs out her cigarette on the ground beneath her booted food and shoves both hands in her jacket pockets. "Hey," she murmurs.

"Everything burns," Nitrim finishes his story about fighting in the war as he too stubs out his cigarette with the toe of his boot. "Well, not everything, but pretty much everything that can hold a spear." Nitrim grins, tilting his head up in a broad smile to Ithaca as he takes the lead. "Hey, Rook. You ready for food?"

Lincoln smiles, a bit crookedly at Ithaca, "Hey. Glad you could come." Glancing between the two and grinning, "Should I start smoking around the two of you?" He'll jam his thumbs into the loop holes on his pants, looking between the two, "I'm starving. All I had was coffee today."

"Yes," is Rook's simple reply, punctuated with a brief twitch of her lips that could be her version of a smile. She heads into the restaurant, feeling braver with Nitrim there. "Coffee, cigarettes, all good," she notes to Lincoln.

"Don't know how you do it, Rook. If I don't get something substantial in my stomach before long, I feel like the walking dead." Motioning for the two of them to follow their hostess, the one with the black hair and the blue stripe hanging from the band of her ponytail, Nitrim follows them like a shadow. "But I should probably quit smoking. Sir Flint about had me hacking up my lungs last month."

Lincoln nods, "Coffee and cigarettes." He'll take what he can get, connection wise with her. He'll glance over to nit as he talks behind the, remembering hearing something about him squiring, "There's e-cigs. Those might not be so rough on your lungs." See? He's being nice! Looking over to Rook, "Good day so far?"

"Normal day," Rook murmurs back to Lincoln as she slides into the booth. "Not sure that's good." A day in the life of Ithaca Black is what most people would consider terrible, but she's so used to it, it's the norm. She looks over at Nitrim and snorts. "Won't help. Around me." Second hand smoke and all that.

Nitrim slows near the booth as Ithaca slips in and a moment of curiosity covers his features. Does he sit beside Rook? Beside her brother? Does he try to get them to sit beside each other? Eventually deciding her and her brother will want to look at each other without a great deal of neck-craning, he slips into the booth beside Ithaca. "I just need to slow down. If I don't I'll look like some desiccated lizard by thirty. I'm not so vain, but desiccated lizard is bad."

Lincoln frowns slightly at Rook's comment, "Well, hopefully it'll get better?" This is going to be a long evening if he can't find some common ground besides coffee and smokes. He'll watch Nitrim sit next to his sister , and takes the seat across, "Anything interesting happen lately, besides my surprise entrance in your life?"

Rook ponders the question as Nitrim sits beside her, and her lips purse. Lots has happened, but some things she can't talk about. Cabal. LucCorp. "Got high score on Drake Hunter. FUNtasia." The arcade. She smiles proudly at that.

"Was this that score you've been trying to crack into for a while?" Nitrim asks sidelong to Ithaca as their water is poured and menus are handed out. Like the noble he is, he places the cloth napkin over his lap and shrugs out of his coat.

Lincoln watches Rook, picking up she's tellign him not the important things. ok, he guesses there needs to be trust won. "Crackerjack. I like FUNtasia. I like the newest joust game." casue fighting on birds is fun. Linc gives the waiter a bright smile and also pulls the cloth napkin on his lap, although, his right leg is bouncing slightly from nerves. Linc offers, "I had the day off, so I was running lines for The Promenade Chronicles."

Rook watches them put their napkins in their laps as she was tucking hers into her hoodie collar. She stops and sets it in her lap too. "Yeah," she murmurs to Nitrim. "What's that?" She asks Lincoln. She sniffs at the water before sipping it, the looks at the menu.

"You see, Lincoln, it was only a matter of time until you found something to link you two. I'm dreadful at those games. She once tried to get me to do the dancing one? No, no thank you I'd rather actually dance." Nitrim murmurs as he hides his face by staring down into the folds of his menu. "Besides, with my coat I'd look like an idiot trying to learn that game."

Lincoln narrows his eyes slightly, unsure if nitrim's trying to help, or what. With a small shake of his head, he'll turn to look at Rook, "It's a community play. They just cast it a few weeks ago. Ren lets me take time off for a play or two a year. I make up for it during the weekdays." he'll open up his menu, "I could eat a drake, I'm so hungry."

Rook laughs at the memory of Nitrim dancing, and she seems momentarily almost human when she smiles. "Actor?" she asks of Lincoln, before handing her menu to the Khourni. She has no idea what to order, he can choose for her.

Taking the menu, Nitrim glances down to Ithaca's side and nudges just how much she's been eating lately. Of course, there's no secret…it isn't much. "When you're showing, Lincoln, could we come? I haven't seen good theater in a while. What's it about?" As the server approaches, he lifts his chin to the man. "I'll have a ribeye, medium rare, and the lady will have a small-cut prime rib, medium rare as well."

Lincoln watches the two interact. Nodding slowly to rook, "Yeah, well…at least I'm trying. Better than doin' nothin'." He'll glance down again at the menue, "I'll take the ribeye, blue, please.' Looking back at nitrim, "It's a tallking head piece. written a few decades ago. nothing to impressive." he'll shrug, looking to see if Rook even seems interested before pushing it more. "It's just a community theatre thing. Nothing too important."

"S'cool," Rook insists to her brother. Him being an actor in her eyes is neat, like Miss Jane is. She nods to the waiter to confirm her order as Nitrim gave it, and she sips the water some more. It's cleaner than she's used to. "I work with computers," she puts out there. Though she probably mentioned that already.

"Sure but I'm sure Rook wouldn't mind seeing what her brother does - well - some of what her brother does, right, Rook?" Chewing at his lip, Nitrim casts a grin over to the two siblings as he takes up his glass of water. Watching the two of them closely, he lets out a quiet hrm. "Is my being here awkward for you two? I could take my food to go and head back to the hotel if you'd rather some privacy."

"I did Devine Movement last year. Got to do choreographed sword play. that was pretty crackerjack." Linc grins at the memory, "I was supporting lead, biggest part I've got so far." Nodding, "Yeah, you had said. Are you a hacker or programmer or something esle?" Looking to rook and then shrugging, "I can get you tickets, if you want." A deep breath and he'll shrug again at Nitrim, "I think Ith-Rook would prefer you stay." He's been calling her Ithaca in his head for the past 2 years….hard habit to break.

"Stay," Rook says to Nitrim, and it doesn't sound like a request. She is not used to a restaurant this nice, imagine what she'd be like in a really fancy one. "Please," she adds, because Lyrienne did help her with a few bits and pieces of manners. Eating properly is not yet one of those things. She looks at her brother and nods. "Both, all. Work for LucCorp, computer security analyst." That was a long string of words for her.

"Alright, alright I will stay." Nitrim eases back into his seat, leaning to tap shoulders with Ithaca as he pauses for a sip from his glass of water. Not uncomfortable in the least, where the man seems to have an attempt at being accommodating is pensive at best. "You know, Lincoln, I happen to be friends with Jane Wyre. I'm fond of her charity work and her movies. Would you be offended if I suggested that we invite her to your performance?" He holds up his hand to stave off a reply before he finishes. "Don't consider this charity but at best she may be able to give you advice, and when in doubt you should always network. You'll never know what could happen that's between you and her."

Linc laughs softly at what Rook says, "You too? He's got his fingers in Blue Nirvana too." Only a little of that pun is intended. Blinking, the smile fades from his face as the noble mentions the Jane Wyre. "I…I wouldn't want to offend her. It's just community theatre." He looks even more nervous than when he first walked into tattoo parlor. Reaching for his water, he'll keep his hands busy, by holding the water.

"Jane is nice," Rook says. For the little bit she met her. "She should come." She nods her head sagely, fidgeting in the seat just a bit as she cranes her neck to get a better look around her at the restaurant.

"Jane is nice, at the very least I'm sure we could all get invited to a party or something. Six knows I owe her a favor or two after some of those tabloid issues with her I caused." Throwing himself under the bus, Nitrim motions across the table to Lincoln. "But the point I'm trying to illustrate is that even she got a start in community theatre and if you're not too nervous, for all you know you could make a career out of it. How about I see you perform first then I'll give you my critique? I'm an excellent actor. I know how to spot convincing."

Smiling at Rook, "You got to meet Jane Wyre? very cool." LInc tries to calm down, taking a sip of water, "If you owe her a favor, don't ask for more by asking her to come see me. That's…counter productive." He'll raise an eyebrow at Nitrim, "I have a career." It's hard to tell if he's being serious or not. Bringing his eyes to rook, "So…any questions?"

"What do you do at club?" Rook asks Lincoln curiously. She shifts in her seat again and reclaims her water, downing some. "Sorry. Bad at," she gestures between them. "Conversation." She blows out a breath and her bangs fly upwards. "Alone a long time. He got me out." She jerks a thumb at Nitrim.

"I don't know what that favor is going to entail, probably a donation to her charity and support, but it's no big deal, really, she's been available to Rook, as is my cousin Lyrielle Orelle." Oh, did Nitrim drop that name, someone should pick it up before it gets dirty. "Rook and I have been working together on some projects."

Lincoln tilts his head, "You mean at the Blue Nirvana? I do a bit of everything. Watch the door, clients, bartender, bouncer." He'll laugh, "I even cook some when Ren decides he wants to feed everyone." Linc frowns, biting his lip. how to put this delicately, "Nitrim, are you trying to drop names, or is this just how you talk?" lyrielle, Jane . Linc is waiting for him to mention the King. Looking between the two, "Can you tell me about any of your projects, or is that secret decoder ring material stuffs?"

"I like Lyri," Rook says with a smile. "Teaching me to be less," she gestures at herself, "around nobles." She looks over at Nitrim at the request for the info and looks unsure. It's his schtick, not hers. "Could be trouble," she notes to Lincoln, if he knows, he's involved.

"No it's not how I talk," Nitrim laughs, shaking his head as the wine is poured. Switching to something more spiced, laced with alcohol, he leaves his water aside. "I just have connections, Lincoln, and especially for the ones that aren't nobility I want to make sure that my friends have the best opportunities. My friends and their families, no less." He pauses, eyes darkening just a tad. "How I normally talk is more…fatalistic." He looks to Rook. "Is that a good word for it?"

Blinking, Lincoln frowns, unsure how to take most of this conversation. He'll shrug at Rook's warning. He works in a whore house, he deals with trouble on a daily basis. He'll quickly take his own glass of wine, "I'm not looking for connections here, Nitrim. I just want to get to know my sister. I'd rather you sit with her during the production, so when it's completely bored you both, she has someone to whisper about it with. I don't want jane eyre to notice me because you told her too."

Rook ponders Nitrim's question a moment, shrugs and nods. "Yes." She looks to her brother. "Also bleak, gloomy, morbid, misanthropic," she rattles on in synonyms. She is grinning, she clearly finds that amusing. She also finds a beer in front of her and that makes her happy. She sips it. "Real trouble, deep trouble," she reiterates for Lincoln.

"Paranoid, self-destructive, self-depricating…" Nitrim nods as the list goes on and on. He lets some of the wall-of-bullshit fade as he casts a smirk towards Rook; the smirk is rather fond and affectionate before his features begin to darken. "Lincoln…being a Khournas I've had some time in the war effort. She's a computer specialist. Above all things right now information is a prized possession and - well - the trouble I've been getting myself into, the trouble I always get myself into, right now is sticking my nose where it shouldn't be but needs to be, if this makes any sense?"

LIncoln looks between the two again, suddenly letting his shoulders relax, like he's given up. "Ok.sure. i guess that all makes sense." he'll take another sip of wine, not pushing, well, any of it. He's definitely getting the run around feel, and isn't gonna chase."Do you have a favorite band, or anything like that?" The change of topic is directed at Rook.

"Like Hell if I Know, but mostly older bands, rock, punk," Rook replies, glad of the subject change. She's only met Lincoln, she's not ready to get him killed over their research into the Hostile infiltration of the Chantry. She reaches over to grab his hand which Nitrim knows is a big deal, as touching is rare for her. "Not safe to know. Some time, then will tell."

"I'm sorry if we seem cryptic, Lincoln, I do." Nitrim offers, gazing over to the man from atop the glass of his wine. "It's not the time nor the place, but if you're really curious as to what your sister and I have been up to," At least…in terms of scheming and work. Nitrim is sure that Lincoln has other suspicions. "All I ask is that you make sure before we speak on this someday that you really, truly want to know."

Linc nods, "I can get behind some Bronze Corsair. It's good stuffs." he'll take another sip of wine, before setting it down, "Don't." this is directed at both of them. "Just…don't. I get it. I'm not part of it. I'm letting it go. won't ask again." He'll glance across the table at Ithaca,and then Nitrim, "I think I'd prefer you going all white eyed. At least then i wouldn't feel like I was supposed to be following along." dark eyes going back to Rook, "Did you get to go see the big concert a few months back?I heard it was pretty rockin'."

Rook looks upset that she's upset her newfound family member, and the only one she's aware of. She chews on her lower lip and looks at her beer, fiddling with the label, and shaking her head at Lincoln's question.

"I was there, it wasn't a … fine moment. There was news. It was…atrocious, really, though the concert was very well done." Nitrim replies, thinking back to the not one but TWO scandals that came out of the moment, not including that he was injured and his sister nearly dragged him off by his earlobes. Grimacing, he looks over to Rook and gives her the should we? look to her, feeling rather rude about it. It's better to rip the bandage off quickly. "Rook, it's best he knows at the least that you're helping out. Just in case."

Lincoln likes to think of himself as a man with patience. In his line of work, he has to. But this experience is really starting to grate on him. he'll let out a soft huff, "gods, really? Don't bother." Linc starts to stand, flipping out his wallet to throw money down on the table. "I can't …All I wanted was to get to know my sister, even a little bit. Not feel like I'm in the middle of some bad spy flick, that's in a dead language." He throws down more than enough to cover the food and drinks.

Rook watches, without the words to fix this. She just lowers her head and stares at her hands.

"Damn it, Lincoln, don't." Nitrim manages to get out as Lincoln rises. He reaches out with a claw-ringed hand to try to stop Lincoln by grabbing him around the wrist. Lowering his voice to a whisper, he looks up to the man and narrows his eyes. It's one last attempt to try to stop the man. "Your sister, the one you wish to know, is helping people. If you want to get to know her, don't go. Please." Nitrim lowers his voice just a little more. "Please, sit, and we will explain but we need your word that what we say doesn't leave this table, okay?"

Lincoln freezes when Nitrim grabs him, his expression goes from one of annoyance and frustration to blank. "Let go of me." Even his voice is rather emotionless. "I don't need to know, I just don't need it throw in my face every other sentence that I'm not part of whatever it is." He'll finally chuckle, looking at Nitrim, " I'm a whore. All I do is keep secrets." he doesn't move to sit back down, but isn't bolting towards the door, waiting to see what Rook does.

Rook is in shutdown mode at ths point. She is barely able to interact with people who don't demand answers from her. She doesn't raise her eyes until he calls himself a whore. That makes her wince in memory of her mother. She looks at Lincoln dully, but doesn't say anything. Then the steak arrives. She starts shoveling food in like it might be taken away at any moment.

Nitrim smiles broadly up to Lincoln; it's that serpentine smile of his that he uses most likely to try to disarm people. "Okay, you've made yourself clear, now sit with us, please? I apologize. You are right about one thing, though. We're like a couple in a spy movie, aren't we? I'm sure it sounds rather silly." He lets go of Lincoln's hand and motions to the table once more. "I'm sorry. I think we're all new at this, aren't we?"

Lincoln watches Rook for a moment, whether anyone pick up on the flash of hurt that goes through his eyes, who knows. A deep breath, trying to not compare her behavior to his mother's. Linc's still not exactly sure why Nitrim's saying we. It's like a horrible bad, wrong threesome. His face still blank, he'll sit down, but is more on the edge of his seat, nervous now. It takes him a moment to collect himself, but he'll start eating as well. Unlike his sister, he has manners. Being a whore has some advantages, he's learned all types of stuffs.

Rook looks up between mouthfuls of meat that hasn't been crazily processed like she eats in the Barrens on the Ring. She glances between them as she chews and swallows down a mouthful of food. "You wanted to know me. Not much to know. Used to not leave home much. Nitrim is helping."

Taking the first slice into the cooked meat, Nitrim lowers his eyes and lets Rook do the talking. An awkward furrow of his brow falls into place as he sets the knife down and reaches for the fork, eating like a Sauveur despite his tattoos and the shady way he styles his appearance. "Please don't mistake her lack of long sentences for lack of interest, Lincoln. It's how she talks. Ask her whatever you want to know, she will answer." Nitrim looks to Rook, frowning with the awkward. "And Rook? Ask him the things you want to know."

In the back on Lincoln's head, when he thinks on this later(no matter how this turns out), he'll be annoyed that the steak was so good, and he's barely able to taste it. He'll look to Rook, face still pretty passive and nod, having no idea what to ask at this point. That initial feeling he got in the tattoo shop is returning, she wants nothing to do with this.This is a mistake. He'll give a small smile,"Drake Hunter's the first person shooter, right? with the knight stabbing the drake on the side of the machine? Like I said I like the newest Joust game, but I always thought those were just fun. I was never good enough to get top scores or anything like that, but I liked them." It's like a switch's been thrown, and he's smiling and that blankness from him is gone.

"Yes," Rook replies about Drake Hunter. "Good at games. Just math. It's all math." She smiles a little bit, and for her that's big. "Can teach you to play them," she offers. "Like movies?" she asks, following Nitrim's lead and asking something. Her food is disappearing at an alarming rate. Where she puts it in that tiny frame is anyone's guess.

They're actually talking to each other, and for the first time Nitrim doesn't feel compelled, whether he's been asked to or not, to assist in any sort of topic between them like he's some kind of demented interpreter. He looks up as he swallows his most recent bite of his steak and glances between the two of them. A small, pleased smile forms at the corner of his lips as he remains silent and returns to his meal.

Lincoln laughs softly, "Just math. I wish I could think of it that way. I've never been good with numbers. I always end up mixing the wrong numbers together.' He'll shrug softly, "Sure, you think you can figure out how to teach me, sure." He'll smile, talking movies is easy, "Yeah. I like all types. Action, horror, drama. I tend to spend a lot of my free time there."

"Good. Have lots of horror movies on disc," Rook says with a smile. "Should go see new one coming out. Perfidious." She shoulder bumps Nitrim happily.

The shoulder-bump spring Nitrim to newfound life, looking up from his plate and everything. "Your sister sent me a box of things when I was laid up at the Pit with a broken collarbone and when I was laid up back home with a broken leg. She sends me the best violence without having to pay for the ticket." He laughs. "She'll take good care of you, too, man."

"Perfidious is supposed to be good. The special effects are supposed to be crackerjack." Lincoln nods, "I'm excited about The Last Hooray. Supposed to be excellent stuff." He'll continue eating, cleaning off his plate. He'll glance to Nitrim, giving the noble a smile, "Very cool."

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