#d: 7.22.23

[walledupward]

"Yes, well, you would," said Tristan, as he looked around once again, as if trying to see if he could spot any last second flaws.

Tristan still had his suspicions, however given all the leaps of faith he had taken as of late, what was one more? There was no real way to discover if this was going to be too good to be true or not unless they went for it, and one way or another it couldn't be any worse than Treaty Towers. It certainly had the food aspect already going for it.

"Guess we'll just take any paperwork and go from there," said Tristan with a final nod. For his part, Tristan actually read through everything before he signed it. At least for now, they could put a pause on looking at other places and know they had somewhere new to head towards once all was said and done.

the end

There was usually a catch in this city. Somewhere or another, you would snag against it and come crashing back to earth. But perhaps, Orlaith thought, when the price set for rent was said aloud and was in their budget, they had stumbled quite by chance into the exception. Into decent people who just wanted to run their restaurant and rent out the flat above it fairly. What was it she'd said down in the restaurant? Serendipitous. She didn't believe in that sort of thing usually, but she wondered if the universe hadn't decided after all the shit they'd both been through in their lives that it was their turn.

When Tristan disappeared for another circle of the apartment, Orlaith asked the boring questions. What date rent was due, were bills included (yes, surprisingly), how long until they could move in if they decided to take the place (whenever they wanted), if there was any parking available for her car (yes, a space in the restaurant employee car park was allocated for the apartment). All the boring questions she had reminded herself of again and again this morning so that excitement wouldn't get the better of her and cause her to forget.

When Tristan returned and asked the question, she took that to mean he hadn't found anything untoward to explain why it seemed too good to be true. Orlaith had assumed that was what he was doing; checking for blood splatters or body parts. She looked up and him, grinning. "Either that or we carry on looking at places all afternoon. Personally I'm preferable to going for it and getting dessert downstairs before we go home." Home. All going well, once credit checks and references had been completed, it wouldn't be home for much longer. Here would be.

[walledupward]

Tristan went ahead and looked around, trying to visualize the space being occupied by their furniture. He tried to picture a couch along one wall and even a coffee table in front of it. A television in front of the couch, maybe even a bookcase so that he didn't have to leave the few books he did own in a pile in the corner of the room.

"Bathroom s'a decent size," he said as he peered into it, moving down to where the bedrooms were to have a look at the space there. A decently sized bed would fit and even leave room so that Cordelia could have a bead in one corner and even Bernie, if Orlaith wanted a bed for her (Tristan wasn't even sure cats slept in beds as much as they did in boxes and other locations they decidedly didn't belong in, but one way or another, a bed would fit).

He joined Orlaith and shrugged. Really, the appeal of this place all lay in the price. It was nice, almost too good to be true, if he was being honest with himself and he was still tempering expectations. He was bracing for some ridiculous amount that would price most of the city's residents out of the running. Once again, he let Orlaith do the talking there, because Tristan was trying his hardest to be on his best behavior still.

"Wait, seriously?" Tristan blinked, speaking the most he had so far to the owner. It was on the high end of their budget, but it was still within their decided budget one way or another. It made him think there was a body hidden in the walls somewhere or maybe the closets. He went ahead and exchanged a subtle look with Orlaith, before he excused himself so he could walk around again and actually check the closets for a body. Hey, he couldn't check the walls, but at least he check for that. He even opened the bathroom cabinets to check for stray body parts.

He rejoined Orlaith, though, keeping his expression devoid of any expression or emotion. "What do you think then? Go for it?" he asked her.

It was clean, that was the first thing Orlaith noticed. For that alone it stood out from Treaty Towers and the first place they'd looked. The second thing she noticed was the light. The ceilings were high, giving a feeling of space the second place had not and letting light flood in easily through the large sash windows. Okay, so the view out of those windows wasn't brilliant, she noted as she stood in the living room area and looked out, but when was the view great in a city?

And anyway, that didn't matter, because when they moved into the bedrooms they were overlooking a small park, perfect for a quick walk with Cordelia if she needed to go out before bed, and a much better view than the road overlooked by the living area. No garden, as they'd predicted, but there was a balcony. Only very small, but it wasn't like they'd be hosting crowds of people here. It was just the right size for some seating, a plant or two, perfect for an evening smoke or to bring a book out onto. And because it was on the other side of the building from the road out front, the noise of cars wasn't too disruptive.

"Third time lucky?" she said in reply to Tristan. Maybe that old adage had come from somewhere after all. Orlaith didn't know what she was most excited about; living where that pasta was, the thought they wouldn't have to go and look at anywhere else, or that when she looked around she imagined her and Tristan living here, together. The latter probably. Although— "Or maybe not, since we've not asked the price and it could be way out of our budget in which case we're very, very unlucky. The one that got away and all that." There was no holding off the inevitable, even if she wanted to imagine them living here for longer if it was to be snatched away, so she gritted her teeth and asked how much the rent was.

[walledupward]

"'M pretty sure the reason it felt off was the blood splatters," said Tristan. Even as he said it, he still had the ghost of a smile on his face. In part, because this simply was their pattern. They could go back and forth on this all day, and there was something reassuring about that, because in a world where uncertainties lay around every corner, it was nice to have something to rely on. It didn't really matter who was right or wrong (as far as Tristan was concerned).

"Yes, and that s'my point," he concluded as he went ahead and followed her now that they were done and settled up as far as their meal was concerned.

They reached the landing where they were promptly greeted, presumably, by the owner that would let them in. Tristan let Orlaith do most of the talking and introduction, instead standing by if only because she would surely give off a much better vibe than he ever would. He only nodded when acknowledged, doing his best to look like he'd be a responsible tenant and not a murderer (after all, it wasn't out of the realm of possibility that someone could recognize him due to case). At least Orlaith provided the friendly burst of positive energy that he lacked for this endeavor.

"First decent place of all of them," conceded Tristan once they had a chance to look around. "Course, it s'not got a lot of competition."

Knowing the pair of them, they could bicker about this for hours. And Orlaith certainly wasn't going to help them not do that by opening her mouth and saying, "I think if someone was going to give you a weird feeling they'd give it to you wherever you were. The waiter seemed fine. This whole place does. Not like the first building where we walked in and it immediately felt off to me. And anyway, maybe, just maybe, it is listed, but it went up after I'd looked and scheduled all our appointments for today. Or maybe," she said, repeating the word for emphasis, "we just got lucky and happened to be in the right place at the right time to hear of a new place before it gets listed, giving us the chance for first dibs."

Not that any of it mattered, since he'd agreed to go and see the place, but Orlaith couldn't help but want some of her excitement at the potential of a place to rub off on him. It didn't seem as if the websites she'd found the places on had exactly been honest about what they were advertising. The whole afternoon could go the same way as the morning had. "The point is," she decided to add, "is we don't really know until we look at it and ask for the price and it can't hurt to look since we're here and it's not out of our way. Unless of course we get murdered up there and then served into pasta and pizza," she couldn't help but tease.

Once she was finished too, Orlaith added her own money to the table and stood up. Despite Tristan's misgivings, her enthusiasm and hope hadn't been tempered. It was who she was. And his wariness wasn't to be swayed either; that was who he was too. The simplest way to resolve it was just to go and look and so she led the way to the bar to ask to go up, hoping it wasn't a dive or overpriced or Obsidian City's finest murder spot, if only because then she'd have to admit Tristan was right.

[walledupward]

"Well, of course you don't get a bad feeling here, we're in the restaurant. Unless they served bad food, then I reckon that you're going to be okay. Even moreso that you like the food." He shrugged at her last comment that he was being stubborn. He definitely was, but she clearly already knew that. "No, I wouldn't be," he admitted. "But that s'entirely besides the point. Besides the reason you probably didn't find it on your search is because it s'not listed anywhere."

Tristan polished off his beer, rinsing down the food. "What if it s'far outside what we can afford?" he offered. After all, he wasn't going to get his hopes up. Even if it was everything she said it could be and more, it still felt too good to be true, and if he was being honest with himself, Tristan didn't believe in good luck and coincidences. It wasn't how his life worked.

"Well, 'm ready when you are," he told her, as he pulled out his wallet so he could leave some money for the food.

Except now Orlaith did want to go down that rabbit hole, the same way she wanted to go down, well, pretty much any rabbit hole that presented itself to her. But Tristan was pointedly chewing on his pizza and she had the amazing pasta and the potential to live where it was made, so she ignored the rabbit hole for now at least, and got the waiter's attention. Whilst she waited for him to come back over, she said, "Yeah, but the last place had blood on the walls and damp in the lobby and I got a bad feeling. Here they've got really good and I don't get a bad feeling. I think you're just being stubborn about the fact someone heard us talking." This last part she said with one brow raised. "If it had been on the list anyway, would you be so concerned by some trap or another?" More than likely, he'd be happy to go in. "What if it's like— serendipity or something, and this is our perfect place? A room for you to turn into a darkroom. Space for the pets. Maybe it's even got a balcony," she added, though she'd forgo that to be in the vicinity of this food.

By the time the waiter was able to come back over, Orlaith was almost done with her pasta. If the place was good, there was nothing to stop them coming back down and having one of the desserts. Even better. She told him they'd like to see the place and he told them to go to the bar when they were done.

[walledupward]

Tristan rolled his eyes, a wry smile on his face. “Yes, you’ve expressed your woes about hikers and their stories. Ironically, I think ‘ve heard more about hiking and hikers from you than ‘v heard from an actual hiker. Something to chew on, I reckon.” He took up another slice of pizza, taking a bite and chewing slowly as he looked at her. “Also, ‘m pretty sure more people use compasses and cardinal directions than just hikers, so aside from the fact that ‘m not sure who’d look at your phone and care enough to comment, I don’t think anyone will be mistaken. Nor do you even have to get the app, so think s’a non-issue at this point.” 

Tristan waved a hand as if to push all that aside. “Do you think no one ever moves or talks ‘bout moving?” he asked, and then shook his head. “Actually, I don’t want to go down that rabbit hole.” He was still regretting setting her off about the directions. “And yet you wouldn’t even go into the first place or let me go inside.” Tristan shook his head in faux disappointment. “Maybe that first place could have been the dream apartment we were looking for.” 

He picked up a third slice, shoving most of it into his mouth, along with a sip of beer to help swallow. His way of saying he’d be quiet and on his best behavior. At least, as long as he had food to chew on.

Orlaith's brow wrinkled, half confused, half a little disgusted at the notion she might download some sort of an app to help her navigate she was certain every hiker on the island had. "That's what the map app is for. I put in my destination and it shows me the direction. But if I ever get lost somehow, I'll look for the mountains. Thanks for the top tip." And that bit was useful to her, more so than the suggestion she could find a compass app. What if someone saw it on her phone and got the wrong idea? She added as much now, before moving on. "Imagine if someone saw an app like that on my phone and thought I liked hiking? They might start talking to me about it and once a hiker starts talking about hiking, they never bloody shut up." She had first hand experience of that, having treated more than her fair share of hiking related injuries, what with working in the emergency room. It was astonishing the number of people who trekked all the way to hospital to be told to go home and ice their ankle, something Google had already told them probably.

"Yeah, but there's random chance and then there's random chance that relies on very small parameters. Such as us being here right now to talk about how we're moving, as opposed to just generally someone being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Anyway, I personally think it's worth the risk for this food alone - imagine, you could just call down and have a bowl of pasta made for you and barely have to go anywhere to pick it up! - and you're really tall, so really, what's the worst that could happen? You certainly got me out of the last place quickly enough, and that was only for the slight of being too narrow, and not like— attempted murder or something."

Although she tried to temper them, Orlaith's hopes were up, and not just because she'd like to live near to this food. It would be nice to find a place so easily and once they did, well, then they got to move in together. "If I call the waiter over here to tell him we'd like to look at the place, you're not going to tell him off for listening in?" Better to be safe than sorry.

[walledupward]

"'M not saying you have to know or figure it out. Just pointing out there are various directions, is all. Pretty sure, also, you could probably download an app to serve as a compass, anyway," said Tristan with a shrug.

"'M pretty sure a lot of random crime relies on random chance," Tristan went on. "Best way to get away with a crime is to lure absolute strangers who have no relation to you other than the flimsy one that hundreds of other people have to you, which is, they were at your restaurant. You cast such a wide net that way, that there s'almost no chance of being caught. And that s'assuming the police actually do their jobs investigating," pointed out Tristan. He had absolutely no faith they would go so far. "Good to know you'd eat me in a dire survival situation," he said, making a face. Though, Tristan supposed he might also in a desperate enough situation, given his instinct to survive.

"Sure, though, if you want to take the chance, we can check it out."

"So what am I meant to do, stand around to see where the sun sets before I decide which way is west?" Orlaith asked, but not before shovelling another spoonful of the pasta into her mouth. She had to admit, it would be a nice thought, even without the fact the pasta was so good, that they could go upstairs and find somewhere to live after this, instead of continuing the slog. Especially once she was full.

Orlaith raised a brow. "It would honestly be a weird lure. One that relies a lot on chance. What, their just hoping someone will come in and talk about looking for a place at just the moment a waiter comes by? As for this being human pasta, well— if it's this good, I suppose I can ignore it. The same way I don't care when I'm at work having a sausage sandwich and someone tells me it's all the shit parts of the pig and I don't care." Obviously that was hyperbole, she didn't have any notions of being a cannibal, but if he could be hyperbolic, so could she. She illustrated her point by taking another big mouthful.

[walledupward]

"What s'the difference between a place that you love and a place that is the best?" he asked. "And is there a level below that?" Though he asked it to poke fun at her, he was rather curious. He was almost certain there'd be some sort of ranking system in place. That or he might have accidentally set the wheels in motion for her to develop one.

Tristan rolled his eyes at her. "No shit," he said. "You know, funnily enough there s'places east of this place. And north. And south. And west. Thought maybe there were other places nearby in one of the other cardinal directions. See, that s'the benefit of living in a three dimensional world. Even if not as close as the last place, close enough that you get your pasta and I get a bathroom that s'not made for mice."

Tristan looked up as they were interrupted. He couldn't help but be annoyed, if only because he hated the idea that they might have been eavesdropped on. Sure, it was easy enough to catch snippets of other people's conversations, but that still didn't meant Tristan wasn't annoyed that someone had and had the audacity to interrupt them as a result.

Whereas Orlaith as rather thrilled with the results, Tristan opted for his response of, "I know, can you believe that fucking guy? S'a private conversation we're trying to have here."

Orlaith took a moment before answering to look affronted. "It's not an accolade I give out lightly, I'll have you know. Just because I have a lot of food places I love, doesn't mean I think they're all the best. But this," she jabbed with her fork towards the pasta, before using it to spear another piece, - "is the best." The pizza was still to be determined; she reached out and took the piece Tristan offered, setting it on the side of her plate so she could have a palate cleansing drink of water before she tried it.

"Yeah," Orlaith said, blinking at Tristan, "the place we just saw which is around the corner." He seemed determined to put that place out of his mind as much as he could. "Now, if it were up to me, I'd live with the narrow bathroom for this pasta, but—" It wasn't up to her. And as he'd pointed out earlier, it wasn't very suitable for the pets.

"We'll just have to—" We'll just have to hope there's a pasta place this good where we do find somewhere, Orlaith was going to say, but the waiter came by just then to refresh their waters, and as he poured he said, "Are you looking for somewhere to live? They're looking for someone to rent the flat above the restaurant. Well, the office is the floor above actually and then the flat, which means it's not too noisy up there. Office acts as a buffer."

He was gone before Orlaith could reply, but she wasn't in a fit state to make a coherent answer anyway. She gaped at Tristan for a moment and then said, leaning excitedly across the table, "I could live at the pasta place?" The slice of pizza lay forgotten (for now), what with the distraction.

[walledupward]

"S'draining for me too," agreed Tristan. Maybe not as draining for him as it might be for her. Tristan had grown up learning to expect the worst, to be disappointed. However, it didn't mean that it didn't affect him. He was already weary just from the two places they had looked at.

"You don't say that about all the places you eat at, do you?" he asked as he as took another bite of the pizza and chewed slowly. He was quick to wash it down with some of his drink. "Or I guess, all the places that you eat at that you like." He had learned that just because she liked food, didn't mean she indiscriminately liked all food. "Well, are there any on the list that are around here?" he asked. He held up a slice to her so that she could taste it for herself. "I think you'll like it, yes."

"I think that probably depends on how draining the flats are we see this afternoon. If they're alright we'll probably have more energy for seeing more, 'cause it's a bit draining, the disappointment. Or it is for me at least. And also, don't let me have a pudding or I'll be even more useless." As if to rub it in her nose she was refraining from dessert, a waiter walked past with a tray of them, all smelling even better than they looked. Orlaith groaned, but the warm pasta in front of her helped ease the blow. It was good. Very good.

"I'm going to go out on a limb here, given I've only had two mouthfuls, but I think this might be the nicest pasta I've ever had." It could be a tricky thing to get right; she'd had some terrible bowls of pasta in her time. "Maybe we're not being picky enough, you know. Only caring about a decently sized toilet and no murderers, when really we should be aiming to live within walking distance of this pasta." She peered over at Tristan's pizza, gaze scrutinising. "How's your pizza? The crust looks well cooked." Another thing that was easy to get wrong.

[walledupward]

Tristan couldn't help the smile that appeared on his face. It was too funny to him the way she suddenly seemed to now reconsider now that he'd introduced pizza, also entirely expected. "You know, you could get the pasta and I'll happy also give you one slice of pizza. You can still have the best of both worlds. Just remember, we should probably at least check out a few more places after this." Now that they had set their plans in motion, Tristan was actually eager to relocate.

"Reckon money does that," he nodded. He didn't doubt her father had the best security and the best protection that money could buy. After all, rich people had to be the target of all sorts of ire.

He raised an eyebrow as Orlaith seemed to clarify that her father didn't care about her. He didn't bother to contradict that, if only because from what he had seen that day, she was probably right. There was no point in trying to comfort her with lies that she'd easily see through. "Remind me again why he would think you have magical powers to begin with?" he asked. So much had happened that day, he couldn't remember if that had been said. It didn't matter, though. Half of it hadn't made sense to him, anyway.

"Don't really care if he does come round," shrugged Tristan. He had gotten the feeling that her father's time and energy wouldn't dare be wasted on paying attention to Tristan. He had been invisible that day and he had a feeling he would continue to be as such moving forward. He was a nobody in her father's eyes and Tristan thought it better to stay that way.

"Oh for fuck's sake," Orlaith grumbled as she flipped her menu so she could see the side with the pizzas, "I was all decided, but now if you get pizza I'll look at it and wonder if I should have got pizza, so now I have to look and see if I should get one in the first instance. But then what if I do and the whole time I'm eating it I'm just thinking about the crab pasta?" She only stopped the complaint because she had to pause for breath. She was aware it wasn't exactly a fair complaint, but that wasn't what stopped her.

"Not a vampire," Orlaith quickly confirmed, eager to put to rest any doubts there. "Just a human and therefore not invulnerable. Or less so, anyway. He's pretty well protected, without needing all those skills himself. So it could be a very long time until he dies." It was perhaps better to temper expectations there; she wasn't going to be rid of him in her life that easily. "He's not interested in me," she said after a small pause, during which she'd focused on sounding casual when she said it, light, breezy. As though she didn't care that he didn't care for her, or that the parent she'd believed had cared hadn't either. As though it didn't matter to her she was a mere object to them.

A hand waved impatiently through the air. "I just have to prove I'm not about to sprout magical powers and then he'll leave me alone once and for all. I'll cease to be important to him." She'd worked it all out, how to be rid of him finally. All he needed to know was he had no use for her. When she felt up to it, she'd seek out Gabriel and do more digging with him. Orlaith was certain he'd know more about all this. "He won't come around again," she thought to add just in case Tristan was worried her dad would turn up unannounced whenever he felt like it, "if I go to his stupid dinners. I've lived at Treaty Towers for years and that was the first time he'd ever been in my apartment." A part of her was still waiting for him to change his mind because of all this. And maybe because she was too used to being let down.

[walledupward]

Tristan looked back at Orlaith. He could tell he had lost her to the idea of food from this restaurant. Instead, he went ahead and figured they could put their endeavor on hold until they were both fed. Besides, he knew it was pointless to continue on with food where Orlaith was concerned. He picked up a menu so he could peruse it.

"And you can get it, y'know," he told her. For his part, Tristan liked anything he could recognize. It wasn't that he wasn't willing to try new things, but given that he was a creature of habit, he leaned towards what he could recognize. "Pasta carbonara, it is," he announced. "Or, y'know, they have pizza here, right?" he said as he turned the menu over.

He put it down and looked back at Orlaith. "'Ve got a question for you," he started. He wasn't sure how to phrase it, though, and took a moment. "What does this mean for your dad?" He knew her father kept tabs on her. That much had been clear from that encounter, though he wondered how much and what this meant for this shared living arrangement going forward. Probably not the happiest topic to bring up, but there wouldn't really be a good time. Really, this felt like the best time: when she was about to eat.

Orlaith was happy to leave Tristan to it whilst she perused the menu, searching for the pasta dish that most spoke to her today, and even more so when breadsticks were put down in front of them. She'd reached for one and taken off a bite off the end before she even ordered her drink - a beer - from the waiter. Only when he'd left to get the drinks and give them a little more time to choose their food did she lift her eyes up from the menu to Tristan, to answer his question.

"Somewhere around here, yeah. They're all fairly linear. We're basically doing a big circle that starts and ends near Treaty Towers." Specifically where she couldn't remember - that was too many addresses to keep in her head - and he was the one with the list now. Anyway, before she try to be less vague her eye caught a dish on the menu and her attention was lost again. "Pasta with chilli and crab. I want that." She had more important things to think about now, clearly.

[walledupward]

"I dunno that 'll be able to tell," admitted Tristan. "Can't hurt to take a look, though, right? Besides, if a place has been listed multiple times, might have different pictures if a different set of pictures was taken, y'know? Different angles to look at." After all, there was a reason they said the internet was forever. He went ahead and began to look through the list she had, moving through the different listings and getting a closer look.

While he did that, they were brought a basket of breadsticks and he immediately took one and took a bite, chewing quickly and swallowing. "What was the next place to check out in the list?" he asked as he looked at her, taking another bite but chewing more slowly this time. "This place sounds like it s'around here, isn't it?"

Orlaith didn't need telling twice; she would have picked the pasta too. Comfort food felt necessary after the two back to back disappointments they'd had. And besides that, it was good fuel for an afternoon of traipsing around places. Now food had been mentioned she suddenly felt like she was starving to death, so she didn't waste time getting to the restaurant, which luckily was close because once she was hungry there wasn't a lot of time to get food in her before she became grumpy. And the sooner they got away from the weird narrow apartment building the better.

Only once they'd sat down did Orlaith pull up the list of the viewings they had left to slide towards Tristan. "I don't know how you'll be able to tell from these which are shit and which are good when they all looked perfectly acceptable on the websites." Then again, maybe Tristan's eye was more discerning when it came to tricks a photographer might use to make something look better. She was happy to leave it up to him at any rate, whilst she looked at the menu, stomach rumbling.

[walledupward]

"Pretty sure this city s'built on lies," said Tristan, glancing back at the building. It wasn't a huge surprise that anyone would be so deceitful, anyway. He shouldn't be so shocked that this was how their search was going so far. For some reason, Tristan thought it might be easier to find some place, given they were combining their income to find some place nicer, but he should have tempered his expectations. Expect disappointment.

"Pasta," said Tristan without a second thought. He felt like he could sit down for a good meal and stuff himself with carbs. "And then maybe review some of those other options on your list while we eat," he added. "See how much more I can handle of this. I forgot how fucking annoying it is to look at places to live."

Orlaith shook her head solemnly. "I couldn't have had any sort of party in there, even one just for me. Too small." And considering she was small herself, that was saying something. Of course, once you threw the lot of them in too, it would have been impossible, especially considering the cat and the fish had to be kept separately. She narrowed her eyes at the tiny building, doubly annoyed because she'd been hopeful about this one. "Well it should be," she said crossly. The whole morning had been a bust. "Maybe we'd have gone to see something better if they'd been honest about what they were selling."

Food, though. The mention was enough to wipe the irritation off her expression. "You know the way to a girl's heart," she said, smile wide now. "There's a good pasta place around the corner." She'd tried it herself. "And sushi a few blocks over. You pick."

[walledupward]

Tristan looked at Orlaith once they were back outside, waiting for her laughter to subside. "Yes, 'm sure it would have just been a fucking party to live there for you," he said. "I don't even need a lot of room, but certainly more than... that." He gestured back to the building. "That s'not even considering Cordelia, Bernie, or the fish." Which was to say, the animals would also need some semblance of space.

Tristan considered her question for a moment. "No, not unless they're photoshopped. S'one thing to photoshop and another to just know the right angles and lighting to take pictures at. S'the same with online dating. You know how to take a good picture and can make yourself look one way only to look another in person. You know, low angles to make yourself look taller and powerful. High angles to make yourself look small and meek." He moved his hand, miming the different angles as he described them.

"Can we get a bite to eat before we have to visit another place that s'too small or too murderous?"

As Tristan attempted to, quite suddenly, pull Orlaith down the hallway, she made it harder for him by being unable to stop laughing. She couldn't decide what was funnier; the bathroom itself, Tristan's reaction, or the look on the man's face at it. It was a half hearted thank you she sputtered out in his direction as he disappeared out of view. It was like one of those sections in a video game when you had to get through a narrow space at quick speed. Except here the quick speed wasn't because someone was attempting to kill you, but because Tristan seemed determined to put as much space between here and them as possible.

Orlaith didn't mind one viewing disaster followed by another. It was a good distraction. In fact, moving had proved to be one ever since Tristan had suggested it. She had thrown herself into looking for places online and seeing what food places were nearby and checking those out, leaving her barely any time to think about anything else between that and work. And now she was laughing, as though her whole life hadn't fallen apart a few weeks ago. The more she focused on all this, the more she could pretend none of it had happened at all instead of what she should be doing— speaking to Gabriel, seeing if he could help fill in the new questions she had. That was something for another time, once they'd moved. For now she needed to ignore it all.

Out on the street again, Orlaith stopped to catch her breath, ragged from laughing. "I think it could have been funny to live there. For me. Maybe not for you," she said once she could breathe and talk again. "It didn't look so small in the pictures. They must have taken them at all the right angles. Do you think that's false advertising or something?" People would do anything to get a place rented out, it seemed. Again, she could only hope things would improve. But maybe there wasn't anywhere much better than Treaty Towers out there. Not that she cared; it would be better just because Tristan would be there too, whatever the state of the place.

[walledupward]

"'d consider that being a buff," said Tristan with a shrug. "Y'know, more than a passing casual interest of any sort of typical person. Besides, I think the online thing would just verge into being insane territory, anyway." Given that Tristan wasn't at all plugged in or online beyond the instagram account he made solely for posting the photographs he took, he didn't really get any of that.

Tristan felt like he should be hunched over the entire time he was inside the apartment. Not because he did, the height of the ceiling was fine, but because the apartment was so small, the only thing he could do to reduce his volume was hunch over, even if it didn't help at all. "That s'one way of putting it," said Tristan. "Claustrophobic, maybe." Tristan had no interest in remaining polite. It was simply who he was: blunt and honest.

"Well. Buff might be putting it a bit strongly. I enjoy them. A lot. But I don't sit on internet forums dissecting the genre or anything. Though I do think horror gets a bad rap in general. People see it as an easy genre, a few jump scares here and there, some guts and gore, nothing much to say, but that's not really true." The hall didn't widen as Orlaith progressed down it; in fact, the longer she spent in it, the smaller it seemed to feel. "Imagine if the power went out and you had to try and get down here in the dark. That's a horror film itself."

Still, at least when Orlaith approached the door it didn't swing open uninvitingly. She knocked, and someone came to answer, seemingly friendly and ready to show them around. But the apartment had its own set of problems, mainly that it seemed to have been custom made for someone very, very small. Her mind flashed to a book she used to read when she was little, The Minpins, and she imagined they'd be more suited to the place. Tristan living comfortably in here wasn't so easy to imagine. "It's very— cosy, isn't it?" she said, trying to remain somewhat polite. That was a delicate way of putting it, certainly.

[walledupward]

Tristan nodded along as she spoke. He knew generally the structure of horror films, so he knew it wouldn't be convenient if people were actually smart or did the sensible things. Most movies never worked that way. The corners of his mouth ticked upwards as he listened to her go on and on, though. It wasn't that Orlaith couldn't go on about something she only knew little about, but there was something more as she spoke, a spark. "Horror film buff?" he asked her.

The doors opened to reveal a narrow hallway. "Definitely single file," he agreed. He gestured so that she might go ahead and he'd follow behind. It also felt like this was a bad indicator to the size of the rooms. However, he tried to remain optimistic as he trailed behind her. At least he didn't have to duck to to stand straight, he supposed. That had to be good, at least.

"Well, it would make a pretty dull horror film if the characters did have the normal instincts we all have. And a short one. Oh this place gives me a bad feeling so I won't go in, the end. But also," - as she spoke, the lift arrived and she stepped in, only pausing for a second to hit the floor number, - "it'd spoil the film for us a bit too, if they had those. It like— heightens the tension when our senses are telling us the people on screen shouldn't be doing what they're doing, but they're doing it anyway. But yeah," she thought to add when she realised that none of that had anything much to do with what Tristan had said and she just liked any excuse to talk about horror, "people in horror stories might be the only exception."

The journey to the top floor was extremely short, especially when compared to the one she took to get to her floor in Treaty Towers which wasn't even the top one. The magical revelation it was bigger on the inside than on the outside still hadn't occurred; when they stepped out of the lift it was just as cosy it had looked out on the street, the hallway bordering on claustrophobic. "Single file down here, I reckon," Orlaith couldn't help but laugh as she looked down the thin hallway. There wasn't any way they'd be able to walk it side by side.

[walledupward]

"No," said Tristan shaking his head. "'Ve heard of the show, though. Does that help make it any better?" Though, he couldn't tell you what it was about or anything other than the title. "Have a feeling that s'not going to be quite like that. Besides, if the unit s'empty-- you know, haven't got any furniture set up-- then it will look bigger and we shouldn't be deceived by a tiny space that looks larger and will actually incredibly small once there s'a couch and a bed inside." He mostly said it out loud as a reminder to himself.

"I think if you've squashed the feeling deep down enough, then maybe not necessarily. But sure, goosebumps and all that. The instincts that people in horror movies don't have that causes them to get murdered one by one because the ominous vibes weren't enough to ward them away." It didn't answer his unspoken question, but he supposed he'd have to ask it more explicitly if he ever wanted to actually know.

"I knew you'd never have seen an episode of Doctor Who, but I thought you might have heard references. It's his— time travel machine." That was the simplest way to explain it. "A phone box. Looks tiny, but when you get inside it's enormous. Bigger on the inside than it is on the outside," Orlaith said, finishing the explanation. She still expected Tristan to be looking at her blankly. She knew well enough by now he didn't do television really. She was more likely to find him with his nose in a book than watching something.

Inside the lobby, which was clean and nondescript, Orlaith pushed the button for the lift again. "Uhhh, I think it's a thing all girls can sense, when something isn't quite right. Sort of need to be able to." It was only your senses that told you not to go down that alley or into that apartment or onto that train when it pulled into the stop. "I mean, I think we all get a bad feeling don't we, hairs standing up, shiver down the spine, but I think if you're a woman in particular you learn to really notice and listen to it." It didn't occur to her he might be asking if she had special senses from not being entirely human. It hadn't come up since that night.