brett and eris

who: brett and eris
where: her place
when: wee hours
(nsfw)

Brett's world, which had never run to a real timetable that normal people would recognise, had, in the past day or so, completely ceased to run to any timetable at all.

Who: Brett and Eris
Where: Her loft
When: Afternoon, around dusk
NSFW

who: brett and eris
where: babylon
when: very late

It was storming, of course. Enough that at least there weren't a whole lot of people out on the streets, which was a plus. It also meant it was a little miserable for her, but it wasn't like she'd never been drenched before. She'd come up on Babylon and had made a pretty unseen walk around the place, just to be sure it wasn't being watched. With the ball on that she'd read about, she figured the police had better things to do tonight, like guzzle free champagne, and pat themselves on the back.

who: brett and eris
where: gray's house
when: very very late
NSFW

who: brett and eris
where: brett's apartment
when: late night
warning: nsfw

Eris had taken a bit of a walk when she got done speaking with Jackson. She was unsettled, paranoid, and flat out uncomfortable. In her apartment she felt antsy, and she tried laying down, but that really didn't much work out for her. So, in the end, she got up, and rifled through her things until she found a scrap of paper with a phone number on it. She could really only assume it was Brett's since he'd claimed she had his number.

Who: Brett and Eris
Where: near One More Round/her loft
When: After midnight

Who: Brett and Eris
Where: Eris' loft apartment
When: Morning

It was the early dawn when Brett woke with a start, bringing his hand up in front of his face, feeling almost surprised that it was empty. He'd been dreaming again, but the details of that dream were fleeting. He didn't remember exactly what had gone on in it, but he knew it had left him feeling... No, he didn't know how it had left him feeling. Didn't know at all.

It didn't take a lot to wake Eris. She slept fitfully at best, and she was paranoid as all hell. Plus, she'd stopped drinking on account of Brett the night before, and had gone to bed with only a light buzz on instead of the usual passing out she tended towards. So when he woke up, it roused her enough that she shifted, making a soft incoherent noise as she opened up her eyes. It took her a moment to adjust her gaze, so the first things she noticed was that the bed was warmer, there was someone next to her, and she felt fairly exhausted. Then she focused and saw Brett. Which really, should have taken her a lot more by surprise than it did. She didn't remember straight away going to bed with him, but there he was. It took her a moment of gazing at him to recall that that had been on purpose, and it hadn't been for anything like intimacy. Which would explain the whole still clothed situation. She noticed he looked a little...confused? Something. "...you 'kay?" she asked, voice a sleep-hoarse murmur.

Who: Brett and Eris
Where: Her apartment
When: Night

He'd made his point. He'd found her. She knew he'd found her. She knew she couldn't just walk out on him like that. He'd made the point. That didn't mean he was in a rush to see the bitch again. But it didn't mean he was going to leave her entirely, either. She left him, not the other way round.

Who: Brett and Eris
Where: Doc's house/Brett's apartment
When: Last December

Eris was in the dark. She'd been keeping to that since she'd woken up a while back and found herself without the 'doctor' that had been 'caring' for her. She didn't know how long it had been, the days kind of blurred together a lot of the time. It felt like a long time. It felt like forever. A waiting game always felt like forever, though. It was only a matter of time, she knew. They'd be back for her. Whoever had disappeared the doc? They'd be back.

Who: Brett and Eris
Where: the loft above the One More Round
When: around 3am

It was a dark, and stormy night. But then it seemed like it was an endless series of them, the only thing marking the passage of time differently being the songs she sang downstairs. It was late when she started up the narrow, claustrophobic stairwell to the loft. The theme of the evening was she was feeling dead on her feet, tired in a bone-deep-ache sort of way. Vaguely, in the back of her mind, she was wondering if this was what her existence was going to be now. Waking up, heading downstairs eventually, singing songs, coming back home. She didn't even speak to anyone, really. Not the band, not anyone in the club. Hell, she had it currently set up that the owner put her cut in the mail slot in an unmarked envelope.