Bennett Halverson (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
glassesonachain) wrote2017-01-30 05:17 pm
glassesonachain) wrote2017-01-30 05:17 pm
But the ghosts that we knew will flicker from view...
January, 13th. Little Hades, The Reform Branch Offices.
Bennett looks at the calendar that's propped up on the receptionist's desk. It's her birthday. Not that it matters. Not that that's ever really mattered to her to begin with. She hadn't paid much attention to dates much when she'd been alive and she certainly hasn't been paying attention since she died either.
Death. Real death. It's still strange for her to think about, even months after it happened. The mechanics of death had been so skewed in Bete Noire. People died, so many people had died but they always came back. Until they stopped. The magic that had held the City of Sin together had started to fail. Bennett, being one of the city's favorites, got caught in the final crossfire.
She did what she had to do to protect the people she loved. She had known full well she might end up dead-dead from her actions but it was worth it. She'd die again, over and over if it meant getting to protect the people that had become everything to her...
So now she's been dead for a while. Four months, she realizes the exact amount of time it's been when she sees that calendar. She misses Topher so much. Before Bete Noire had decided to implode in on itself, they may have even been dancing around a few conversations that may have heavily implied an engagement was imminent.
Which is why when asked for her name, she's been giving it as Dr. Brink. Dr. Bennett Brink. It feels right. It's a way to feel connected to him while they're apart.
It's hard to believe it's been four months already. Once upon a time, Bennett would not have handled such a separation from him so well, but she's been doing alright. Perhaps she's just been distracted with work. Something she'd desperately like to get back to. Which is why she's sitting here, tapping her feet, fidgeting and gnawing on her fingernails. First the right hand, then the left. Old habits die hard.
But if there's one thing that Bete Noire has taught her...good byes are never forever.
"Mr. Lyman will see you now, Dr. Brink," the girl behind the desk says, finally. Instantly, Bennett's head snaps up, brought out of her thoughts. She's been idle for far too long between waiting for this meeting and having just spent a few weeks on the Acheron. She stands and stretches herself out, arms, legs, wings.
Some days, it still shocks her that she managed to achieve the status of being an angel. Had somehow managed to atone for all the awful things she's done in her life enough to be deemed worthy of Heaven. She had spent a short while as a Limbo case, even but ultimately...Up she went.
And then down she went. Having spent to much time in a city such as Bete Noire, Bennett had become quite accustomed to a certain amount of....she isn't quite sure how to describe it. Destruction? Something crazy happening just around the corner? All she really knew was that Heaven didn't have it.
Besides. She felt like she was betraying Topher by just watching the clouds up there roll by. She needed something to do.
She needed something new to fight for.
She walks down the hallway towards the door she's been directed to. She's been told that this guy will be able to help point her in the right direction for...a lot of things. There's a low level of anxiousness plaguing her, she isn't sure why it's there. Nervousness about being in a new city in Hell? Not knowing what to expect? Something has her feeling uneasy. She knocks on the door.
She has no idea what sorts of memories her face is going to dredge up for the man on the other side. Absolutely none at all. Bennett bites her lips together and looks up at the ceiling as she waits again.
When he sees her...obviously this is Bennett. But this isn't any Bennett he's ever seen before. This isn't the gawky girl he had started falling in love with, nor is this the madwoman that had tied him down and tortured him. She's different.
Because Josh was right. Bennett could do better. This Bennett actually did.
The wings that sprawl behind her are shades gray, when light plays off them they shimmer a bit like silver. The edges of them are coated in black, giving her the appearance of some sort of predatory bird, perhaps. But the angelic glow around her leaves no mistake. She's an angel.
Her hair is perhaps, a bit more wild. The curls bounce around her face from the terrible humidity and it's as if she's grown to like it that way or has given up trying to tame the mess of it. She still favors skirts, of course. That will never change. The pencil skirt she's chosen fits her curves in a way that she never would have dared to wear when she was a few years younger. Her blouse is loosely fitting, though. Likely because tight clothes are just uncomfortable when dealing with such ridiculous temperatures on a daily basis. Oh, and there's no sling. She's got two, fully functional arms like a normal person, too.
When he opens the door, he won't even have a chance to speak. She's lost enough of her shyness to want to be the first one to say something.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Lyman. I'm Dr. Bennett Brink. I'm the, ah. I'm the transfer. Well, obviously I'm a transfer since, ah. Wings and, uh, the..." She awkwardly motions around her head with her hands, trying to signify the glow, "But yes. Not the purpose of this, not the reason I'm here. I'm from the Reform Branch in Mnemosyne. I'm here to investigate some things concerning Brimstone in Little Hades."
She'll never lose that habit of word vomit, though.
Bennett looks at the calendar that's propped up on the receptionist's desk. It's her birthday. Not that it matters. Not that that's ever really mattered to her to begin with. She hadn't paid much attention to dates much when she'd been alive and she certainly hasn't been paying attention since she died either.
Death. Real death. It's still strange for her to think about, even months after it happened. The mechanics of death had been so skewed in Bete Noire. People died, so many people had died but they always came back. Until they stopped. The magic that had held the City of Sin together had started to fail. Bennett, being one of the city's favorites, got caught in the final crossfire.
She did what she had to do to protect the people she loved. She had known full well she might end up dead-dead from her actions but it was worth it. She'd die again, over and over if it meant getting to protect the people that had become everything to her...
So now she's been dead for a while. Four months, she realizes the exact amount of time it's been when she sees that calendar. She misses Topher so much. Before Bete Noire had decided to implode in on itself, they may have even been dancing around a few conversations that may have heavily implied an engagement was imminent.
Which is why when asked for her name, she's been giving it as Dr. Brink. Dr. Bennett Brink. It feels right. It's a way to feel connected to him while they're apart.
It's hard to believe it's been four months already. Once upon a time, Bennett would not have handled such a separation from him so well, but she's been doing alright. Perhaps she's just been distracted with work. Something she'd desperately like to get back to. Which is why she's sitting here, tapping her feet, fidgeting and gnawing on her fingernails. First the right hand, then the left. Old habits die hard.
But if there's one thing that Bete Noire has taught her...good byes are never forever.
"Mr. Lyman will see you now, Dr. Brink," the girl behind the desk says, finally. Instantly, Bennett's head snaps up, brought out of her thoughts. She's been idle for far too long between waiting for this meeting and having just spent a few weeks on the Acheron. She stands and stretches herself out, arms, legs, wings.
Some days, it still shocks her that she managed to achieve the status of being an angel. Had somehow managed to atone for all the awful things she's done in her life enough to be deemed worthy of Heaven. She had spent a short while as a Limbo case, even but ultimately...Up she went.
And then down she went. Having spent to much time in a city such as Bete Noire, Bennett had become quite accustomed to a certain amount of....she isn't quite sure how to describe it. Destruction? Something crazy happening just around the corner? All she really knew was that Heaven didn't have it.
Besides. She felt like she was betraying Topher by just watching the clouds up there roll by. She needed something to do.
She needed something new to fight for.
She walks down the hallway towards the door she's been directed to. She's been told that this guy will be able to help point her in the right direction for...a lot of things. There's a low level of anxiousness plaguing her, she isn't sure why it's there. Nervousness about being in a new city in Hell? Not knowing what to expect? Something has her feeling uneasy. She knocks on the door.
She has no idea what sorts of memories her face is going to dredge up for the man on the other side. Absolutely none at all. Bennett bites her lips together and looks up at the ceiling as she waits again.
When he sees her...obviously this is Bennett. But this isn't any Bennett he's ever seen before. This isn't the gawky girl he had started falling in love with, nor is this the madwoman that had tied him down and tortured him. She's different.
Because Josh was right. Bennett could do better. This Bennett actually did.
The wings that sprawl behind her are shades gray, when light plays off them they shimmer a bit like silver. The edges of them are coated in black, giving her the appearance of some sort of predatory bird, perhaps. But the angelic glow around her leaves no mistake. She's an angel.
Her hair is perhaps, a bit more wild. The curls bounce around her face from the terrible humidity and it's as if she's grown to like it that way or has given up trying to tame the mess of it. She still favors skirts, of course. That will never change. The pencil skirt she's chosen fits her curves in a way that she never would have dared to wear when she was a few years younger. Her blouse is loosely fitting, though. Likely because tight clothes are just uncomfortable when dealing with such ridiculous temperatures on a daily basis. Oh, and there's no sling. She's got two, fully functional arms like a normal person, too.
When he opens the door, he won't even have a chance to speak. She's lost enough of her shyness to want to be the first one to say something.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Lyman. I'm Dr. Bennett Brink. I'm the, ah. I'm the transfer. Well, obviously I'm a transfer since, ah. Wings and, uh, the..." She awkwardly motions around her head with her hands, trying to signify the glow, "But yes. Not the purpose of this, not the reason I'm here. I'm from the Reform Branch in Mnemosyne. I'm here to investigate some things concerning Brimstone in Little Hades."
She'll never lose that habit of word vomit, though.
no subject
He's got the name Dr. Brink on his lips when he opens the door because he's been expecting her, and even though he was worried this might be Bennett playing some weird, twisted game to get back to him, he didn't actually think —
But the wings. And the arm. And... her. All of her.
And the fact that she doesn't know him. There's no mistaking it; Josh may not have known Bennett a fraction as well as he thought he did, but he knows enough to be sure that there's no way she could pull off a lie like that in the way she just did. She'd have had that coldness back in her eyes. Something else might have leaked through, too. Maybe fear. Maybe affection. It would have been there, he's sure.
This, though? The person standing before him? There's nothing. No hint of recognition. No memory of strapping him down and sticking needles in his brain, or of the kisses they shared, or of any conversations about someone else. It just... it isn't there.
What is there, however, is the fear. It's in Josh. It's in the way his eyes go wide and his knuckles go white around the doorknob. It's in the way he backs up immediately, giving her a wide, stunned berth.
"Bennett."
It sounds like someone just punched that out of him.
— this is unprofessional. This is unprofessional and it's awkward and it's embarrassing for the Reform Branch, for their highly-prized consultant to be acting this way, i.e., crazy.
"I — Dr. Brink, I'm sorry. Hi. Hello."
She's glowing.
Shit.
"Thank you for coming."
no subject
Back before she was supposed to die, she thinks. Died the first time? She doesn't know how to put the pieces together anymore. She's often thought since landing in this realm that maybe she did die back then and Bete Noire had been some sort of purgatory. A test. Here, be thrown in this city that would pull at all your deepest, darkest urges and see what happens.
It gives her a deep, deep satisfaction that she managed to resist them. She is one hell of a stubborn person.
Her brows knit together and she looks profoundly confused for a moment. Why would this man have this reaction to her? They've never met. They've never met.
That uneasy feeling is still there but she chalks it up to it being his fault. He's the one acting strangely, not her.
"Not a problem," she says with a bright smile as she enters the office and glances around the room.
"It's nice to meet you, Mr. Lyman. I've heard that you've done great things here in this city. I'll have to take notes. Send them back to Mnemosyne. Maybe we'll actually start getting some ground if we take your advice," she offers the compliment and then offers him her hand to shake.
She doesn't know that it's a momentous thing that she's managed to say something nice to him that didn't involve the discussion of cow eyeballs.
no subject
And he saw what he missed that first time around.
He doesn't see it now.
Josh takes her hand, unconsciously giving it a little tug to bring her a fraction of an inch closer. Only then does he shake it. Professionally.
"Thank you."
What shocks him is that he almost feels sad. She doesn't know who he is. They've never met. It's unfair in a way he can't articulate, that he should have to bear the burden of remembering all that happened between them when she's been given a blank slate.
She gets a fresh start. He gets to pretend.
The fuck is that about?
"Please, uh — make yourself comfortable. Do you want any coffee? Tea, water...?"
no subject
Bennett has actually developed a bit of a complex about it. It's part of what's driven her away from her darker impulses. Perhaps it's for the best that she doesn't know, for the moment. The guilt over knowing what she, in some other (after)lifetime, did to him might just break her a bit.
Something about that handshake has thrown her. An odd jolt of energy that's there and then gone before Bennett really has the chance to acknowledge it. She might look perplexed for a brief moment but Bennett is back to being all smiles a second afterwards.
"Tea? That tastes like actual tea? Not just, you know. Dirty...dish water? Water that's been sitting in the sink for a little too long and--" She was trying to make a joke there and she failed, falling flat on her face. Despite her confidence, yeah. It's Bennett. She'll always be awkward to some degree. Her eyes dart from his down to her feet and then around the room again. What a first impression she must be making with her dumb mouth.
"Sorry," she says after a pause,"I'll have some tea, if you don't mind." she sits down in one of the chairs in front of his desk and tries to compose herself. She crosses her legs and folds her hands over her knee. She'd look perfectly composed...except her wings kind of give away that lingering anxiousness. Bennett tries to neatly fold them behind her but she can't really seem to keep them still. Just when he might think that she's about to shut up though, she goes right on barrelling into more words.
"So like I said, my primary objective in being sent here is to, I'm here to investigate Brimstone. But that's a very, it's a very complicated process. Slow moving, at first. I was told that you might be able to help me to some degree. With the investigating. Help me find a starting point, at the very least. Along with giving me, I was told you'd be the man that could keep me busy in between chasing leads on my investigation," She doesn't seem to shut up, does she?
"Whatever projects you'd like an extra set of hands on, I'm yours."
no subject
Josh holds up a finger, standing.
"Let me — I'll go digest that while I get your tea. I'll be right back. You can... stay right there."
He needs to get up and get out of here and go stand in the hallway and breathe for a few seconds, because this is too much. Who did this? Who dropped her in his path again? Who changed her?
Out in the hall, Josh presses a hand to his forehead, gaze unfocused and glassy.
What he can't decide is whether he feels anger or relief or regret or longing, or if it's a mix of them all that's churning its way through his chest like a summer storm. What went differently? What did she do differently, to wind up like this?
And what the fuck is he supposed to do with those memories?
He returns in a few minutes, carrying a mug of tea, perfectly steeped. It's a skill he's picked up thanks to one of the interns, who caught him Doing It Wrong one day and set him on the right path after. By yelling. He sets it down on the desk in front of Bennett, then drops back into his chair.
"That pile of paperwork over there," he says, gesturing at a stack of files on the bookshelf to Bennett's left, like he wasn't just in the middle of an existential crisis, "pertains to people I believe should have been limbo cases and given further consideration in their trial."
It's a large pile.
no subject
That's not true, magically getting use of her arm back was a bit of a turning point for her. Hard to deny the existence of magic when you watch it accomplish something science couldn't in a matter of seconds.
She reflects on the behavior she just witnessed in her new co-worker and he reminds her of someone. Bennett hasn't quite placed it yet. She can't tell if his nervous demeanor reminds her of Topher because it's an accurate assessment or if because everything reminds her of Topher and she's projecting. But there's something else there.
Luckily, he comes back before it hits her. The sight of the tea brings a look of absolute joy to her eyes. She is so excited for that tea. Bennett can smell it and it's wonderful. Bennett leans forward to grab the mug and even though it's still a little too hot, she eagerly takes a sip. She only flinches a little from the burn. It tastes good and Mr. Lyman, you might be her new favorite person for bringing her this gift of tea that actually tastes like tea and--Right. Work things. She's getting distracted.
Bennett sets down the cup and pushes herself out of the chair and wanders right over to that stack of files. Without even asking, she grabs one off the shelf and starts looking it over. The look on her face goes from mild interest to puzzlement to something that's close to being perturbed. This has struck some sort of nerve with her.
"I was a limbo case for a bit," she admits quietly. Bennett sets one file down and grabs the next, paging through it and having much the same reaction as she did to the first one.
"Everyone deserves a fair trial," Bennett says, "I mean, I know that if I'd died on a bad day, I could have easily been sent down here as a demon. But I wasn't." Bennett has mixed feelings about her trial. Almost like she's afraid that someone up there will realize they made a mistake and whoops, she was never actually meant to get these wings.
"If someone like me can be deemed worthy of Heaven's...splendor," Yeah, let's call it that, "Then everyone should be, should be afforded an equal opportunity. The system is broken. Very broken." Bennett closes the folder and sets it back into the pile. She's seen enough for the moment to be convinced this is a worthy cause.
She looks up at him with a hint of a playful smirk, "So what's your evil plan to fix it?"