Patrollogs
(Irene's bribery attempt)
[Fri Oct 25 2024]
On Warden's Way Piercing the Wood to Reveal the White Oak Institute
Smooth asphalt roads continue through this part of town, bordered on either side by well maintained concrete sidewalks. Where the street is widest small median islands appear with old twisted trees planted in them. The buildings that line the street seem quaint, but well maintained.
It is night, about 55F(12C) degrees, and the sky is partly covered by dark grey stormclouds. There is a last quarter moon.
The slam of Irene's car door is all too audible in the perfect silence that has descended the sleepy town of Haven, especially this late at night. Her breath fogs the air as she approaches, rubbing her hands together for warmth, and eventually, she comes to a stop in front of psychiatrist. The pair exchange a nod, and a knowing look; they know each other. It's only been a day since she herself was released from the asylum, and despite whatever she might've endured there under this shrink's care, she seems to understand well enough that none of this was personal, to not hold it against him. Her expression is neutral, and soon, even though no one can actually hear them talk for any fear of overhearing to be warranted, she approaches closer, for some conspiratorial discussion.
Words aren't needed. The psychiatrist must be waiting here for a reason, and likewise seems to be expecting Irene. He holds up a brown parcel for the approaching woman, who gives him a small nod, and then reaches for her purse. She pulls out one bill, then another, and then another again, each time fixing psychiatrist with an askance look, as if waiting for some signal that this is an adequate enough bribe. The amount expected causes Irene to purse her lips, and eventually she shoots the shrink an indignant look, as if to suggest he's asking too much, being too greedy. In answer, he lowers his parcel and gives her a wry, knowing look, calling her bluff on the notion that she's going to end up being the one who backs out of this negotiation.
Irene narrows her eyes. If she could talk, doubtless she'd be scolding the psychiatrist right now, but as is, she must settle for baring her teeth in brief disdain, and casting him a bland fixture of her coal-dark eyes, forcing him to contend with her own indignity. Finally, she acquiesces. The full amount that was requested is handed over with a bitter purse of her lips, and she casts him an expectant look, holding her hand out for the file he's brought.
The recent Clinic inpatient takes the file, but then reaches out a hand to grab onto the psychiatrist's sleeve, preventing him from leaving just yet. A finger is held up as if to caution him, before Irene starts skimming through the file in front of him, huddling closer so that it remains between their eyes only.
There are many names bundled into this file that Irene has agreed to pay for. Hers is one of them. But there is also a file for Emmanuel Baptiste, Euphemia Reid, and even some members of the Disruptors, such as Lepia Dottor. Irene takes her time scanning each of these in depth, though its her own file that appears to interest her most. Strange, no? One would expect that she'd be more interested in other people's business. But perhaps there is something on her file that she doesn't want anyone else to see. With a purse of her lips, she tries to catch psychiatrist's gaze to exchange a meaningful look. Then, she taps at a single word listed on her file, and draws a finger across it, as if to erase it. She points that same finger over at the psychiatrist, who casts a pointed look down at her purse, in reply.
So, reluctant as she might be to part with yet more of her hard earned cash, Irene ends up leafing through her purse for a few more notes, pressing them down onto the file and casting the psychiatrist a meaningful look to check if he'll accept this additional bribe, presumably to erase something in his records, about her, that she doesn't want known. He smirks, seeming satisfied, and reaches forward to withdraw the notes, sliding them into his white lab coat with a satisfied little pat.
The deal is complete. Irene folds up her newly acquired file, clasping it to her breast. She lingers for only a little while longer, extending her hand for the psychiatrist to shake. But she is not the first to leave. She lingers by her shut car door, still holding the file, and her coal-dark eyes follow this man all the way back to White Oak as he departs. Only when his back is turned, does she allow a baleful little glare to escape her in the direction of his retreating form.
Irenes Bribery Attempt 241026
(Irene's bribery attempt)
[Fri Oct 25 2024]
On Warden's Way Piercing the Wood to Reveal the White Oak Institute
Smooth asphalt roads continue through this part of town, bordered on either side by well maintained concrete sidewalks. Where the street is widest small median islands appear with old twisted trees planted in them. The buildings that line the street seem quaint, but well maintained.
It is night, about 55F(12C) degrees, and the sky is partly covered by dark grey stormclouds. There is a last quarter moon.
The slam of Irene's car door is all too audible in the perfect silence that has descended the sleepy town of Haven, especially this late at night. Her breath fogs the air as she approaches, rubbing her hands together for warmth, and eventually, she comes to a stop in front of psychiatrist. The pair exchange a nod, and a knowing look; they know each other. It's only been a day since she herself was released from the asylum, and despite whatever she might've endured there under this shrink's care, she seems to understand well enough that none of this was personal, to not hold it against him. Her expression is neutral, and soon, even though no one can actually hear them talk for any fear of overhearing to be warranted, she approaches closer, for some conspiratorial discussion.
Words aren't needed. The psychiatrist must be waiting here for a reason, and likewise seems to be expecting Irene. He holds up a brown parcel for the approaching woman, who gives him a small nod, and then reaches for her purse. She pulls out one bill, then another, and then another again, each time fixing psychiatrist with an askance look, as if waiting for some signal that this is an adequate enough bribe. The amount expected causes Irene to purse her lips, and eventually she shoots the shrink an indignant look, as if to suggest he's asking too much, being too greedy. In answer, he lowers his parcel and gives her a wry, knowing look, calling her bluff on the notion that she's going to end up being the one who backs out of this negotiation.
Irene narrows her eyes. If she could talk, doubtless she'd be scolding the psychiatrist right now, but as is, she must settle for baring her teeth in brief disdain, and casting him a bland fixture of her coal-dark eyes, forcing him to contend with her own indignity. Finally, she acquiesces. The full amount that was requested is handed over with a bitter purse of her lips, and she casts him an expectant look, holding her hand out for the file he's brought.
The recent Clinic inpatient takes the file, but then reaches out a hand to grab onto the psychiatrist's sleeve, preventing him from leaving just yet. A finger is held up as if to caution him, before Irene starts skimming through the file in front of him, huddling closer so that it remains between their eyes only.
There are many names bundled into this file that Irene has agreed to pay for. Hers is one of them. But there is also a file for Emmanuel Baptiste, Euphemia Reid, and even some members of the Disruptors, such as Lepia Dottor. Irene takes her time scanning each of these in depth, though its her own file that appears to interest her most. Strange, no? One would expect that she'd be more interested in other people's business. But perhaps there is something on her file that she doesn't want anyone else to see. With a purse of her lips, she tries to catch psychiatrist's gaze to exchange a meaningful look. Then, she taps at a single word listed on her file, and draws a finger across it, as if to erase it. She points that same finger over at the psychiatrist, who casts a pointed look down at her purse, in reply.
So, reluctant as she might be to part with yet more of her hard earned cash, Irene ends up leafing through her purse for a few more notes, pressing them down onto the file and casting the psychiatrist a meaningful look to check if he'll accept this additional bribe, presumably to erase something in his records, about her, that she doesn't want known. He smirks, seeming satisfied, and reaches forward to withdraw the notes, sliding them into his white lab coat with a satisfied little pat.
The deal is complete. Irene folds up her newly acquired file, clasping it to her breast. She lingers for only a little while longer, extending her hand for the psychiatrist to shake. But she is not the first to leave. She lingers by her shut car door, still holding the file, and her coal-dark eyes follow this man all the way back to White Oak as he departs. Only when his back is turned, does she allow a baleful little glare to escape her in the direction of his retreating form.