Setting
A brownstone on the corner of Luna and Liber, the home is decidedly modest compared to its neighbors. It boasts well-tended azalea bushes beside the three stairs leading to the wooden door with a bronze, old-fashioned knocker. There is no doorbell. Inside, there is a welcome mat and a series of black and white photographs on the walls, interrupted only by one color picture. In the main entryway, there are stairs leading upstairs, a dining room to the left, and a living room to the right. Each are full of antique furniture and decorations. In the living room, there is an enormous icon of Christ crucified, a piano, and an old couch.
Drulovic's House
A brownstone on the corner of Luna and Liber, the home is decidedly modest compared to its neighbors. It boasts well-tended azalea bushes beside the three stairs leading to the wooden door with a bronze, old-fashioned knocker. There is no doorbell. Inside, there is a welcome mat and a series of black and white photographs on the walls, interrupted only by one color picture. In the main entryway, there are stairs leading upstairs, a dining room to the left, and a living room to the right. Each are full of antique furniture and decorations. In the living room, there is an enormous icon of Christ crucified, a piano, and an old couch.
Minimap
northwest |
north |
northeast |
west |
You are here. |
east |
southwest |
south |
southeast |
| "out" to Luna Street » | ||
Drulovic's House is a part of 
Luna Street.
5 Characters Here
Joachim Friedman [16] His hands moved in his lap, lacing and unlacing eachother. "It is a horrible feeling, having a day off."
Chiyoye Stardusk [0] a tall, dragon based human with pure black eyes and scales that can withstand the sun
Lennox [0] So wear your poker face, hands to the fool, hands to the thief; fiction is bitter and you got a taste.
Alexander Irons [0] "Save your cowardice, we got a battle to win!"
Sayuri [0] I AM not witch
Start Character Here »
Austin Marshal shrugged, "I'm sure it's delicious. I'm actually pretty hungry...I haven't eaten since I first got back to Wing City, and that was a light meal." The agent stepped forward, ready to follow her down the hallway.
"I think we've got a lot to talk about, Director," Austin said, a serious, perhaps even impatient tone in his voice. Too much had happened since he had been gone, and most of them weren't very pleasant happenings. The agent couldn't but feel somewhat responsible for being unavailable at such times. He was ready to redeem himself...to put himself in action, to prove himself all over again.
"I think we've got a lot to talk about, Director," Austin said, a serious, perhaps even impatient tone in his voice. Too much had happened since he had been gone, and most of them weren't very pleasant happenings. The agent couldn't but feel somewhat responsible for being unavailable at such times. He was ready to redeem himself...to put himself in action, to prove himself all over again.
Drulović inclined her head, padding slowly toward the kitchen. She appeared starkly younger than she had before, but the way she moved suggested that she had aged incredibly. "Oh, everyone always has a lot to talk about with me these days, Mr. Marshall," she said, tiredness creeping into her voice. She motioned with her left hand toward the dining room. "Go ahead and have a seat while I serve lunch." The Director headed into the kitchen, where a pot and a glass pan lay on the stovetop. "I imagine you have some long list of questions for me, hm, Mr. Marshall?" she called over her shoulder.
"More then I can count on my fingers," Austin smiled as he took a seat, "...or hairs on my head, for that matter." Ah, where would he begin? Her de-aging? Her kidnapping? The situation with the Taurons? And what were these reports he was getting about Marlene Angel involving herself in TIB affairs? There was so much to know, but Austin refused to rush the Director. Knowing her, all would be revealed in pleasant time over a hot meal and a piping cup of tea.
Drulović chuckled at that, spooning copious amounts of soup into two painted porcelain bowls and setting them on the sides of two large ceramic plates, where she lay some homecooked lamb with her own sauce recipe. Drulović reached for the kettle on the back of the stove, with tea inside, and opened the cabinet above the stove, removing two teacups and saucers. She carried the kettle in her right hand, and cradled the teacups and saucers in the crook of her left elbow, bringing those inside the dining room first. "Some tea for you, Mr. Marshall," she said, setting first the cups and saucers, and then the kettle on the table. There was the same lace tablecloth, protected by a plastic covering. Drulović poured the tea, using both hands, although her grip was not entirely steady, characterized by trembling.
"Thank you," he nodded, taking a satisfied whiff the soup. Once the tea was poured, Austin would wait until Drulovic was seated before beginning.
"I guess we should start off where we left off," he began, "I think the last time I saw you face-to-face was when Plishkin was working with you after the collapse of the Confederation. I see that the operation went... smoothly."
"I guess we should start off where we left off," he began, "I think the last time I saw you face-to-face was when Plishkin was working with you after the collapse of the Confederation. I see that the operation went... smoothly."
Drulović rolled her eyes. "Oh, don't flatter me, Mr. Marshall. I look terrible." She returned to the kitchen, balancing the plates with the bowls of soups with a combination of her hands and elbow nooks. "Mr. Plishkin is quite an unpleasant fellow, not at all the sort of man around whom I like to spend my time. I trust you enjoyed your tour of the Reverence? I do hate space travel myself," she said, setting the plates carefully on the table. "It's rather unnatural."
"Well I can't say I'm fond it myself, Director," Austin mused, "though it beats taking the public bus." He took a short spoonful of soup, followed by a cup of tea. "Were you up to anything directly after your alteration? Any more visits from George?"
"Pfft," said Drulović, rolling her eyes. "I haven't seen Mr. Montgomery in quite some time, although I can't say I'm all that disappointed. His mother obviously never taught him any manners. He never quite learned how to knock..." She reached for her cup of tea, taking a good long sip. "I've not had much interesting, Mr. Marshall, as meetings with Mr. Cranford are inevitably as interesting as first-year chemistry at the university. I imagine you've felt quite the same in certain situations, no?"
"More or less," Austin smiled after another spoonfull, "although I doubt Cranford puts a bowl of home-made soup in front of you before your meetings." Austin took a sip of tea, mustering a more grave tone as he approached a darker topic. "I also understand you were...kidnapped. I was distraught to hear of it when I did."
Drulović frowned, setting her cup of tea down on the table. "Yes, it seems Mr. Fazekas made the news again... Although it wasn't just me, Mr. Marshall," said Drulović, returning her gaze to Austin. "Three of the twenty passed on. Mr. Dobrovich, Mr. Fereydoun, Ms. Ramirez... Ms. Ramirez you may have met before. She worked for our colleagues at the National Police Agency."
"Perhaps. If so I'm afraid I don't recall," Austin half-murmured, "the whole thing is tragic. What those men did to our Terrans was just...evil. Completely and totally." There was no disguising the obvious disdain in Austin's voice. Once again, regrets flooded his mind. If only he hadn't been absent...perhaps he could have done something. Prevented it from ever happening. Logic told him he would have probably ended up dead, but the fact remained: Austin hadn't been there.
"Terra's on the brink of war as it is, no? I imagine the politicians didn't exactly like the idea of three of our citizens being crucified."
"Terra's on the brink of war as it is, no? I imagine the politicians didn't exactly like the idea of three of our citizens being crucified."
"Mr. Fazekas already declared war, Mr. Marshall," replied Drulović, brushing her hair behind her ear. "Ten of us were crucified... Seven survived. The funerals were yesterday. Ms. Ramirez's father seemed more upset than any of the others. I offered him my condolences, but I'm afraid he was not particularly accepting." Visible in the shadow of her jaw was a nasty, dark bruise that could only be seen at the right angle. She sipped at her tea and then reached for a fork, eyeing the lamb on her plate.
"I see," Austin hadn't eaten throughout the whole ordeal, "well for what it was, I'm glad it's over with. It's awful what happened to our fellow Terrans, but I'm certainly glad that you made it out alright, Director." THe agent took a sip of his tea, letting the intricate arabic flavors dispel some of his previous aggression. God this was good stuff. Almost made Austin wish he knew how to cook. Or boil water, for that matter...
"Oh, and another thing," Austin said after a bite of soup, "...I couldn't help but glance over a few documents. Did 'Marlene Angel' apply for a...a job? With us Terrans? The TNG?"
"Oh, and another thing," Austin said after a bite of soup, "...I couldn't help but glance over a few documents. Did 'Marlene Angel' apply for a...a job? With us Terrans? The TNG?"
"With the National Police Agency, yes," replied Drulović, "and Mr. Mulavi, Mr. Lebrun's temporary replacement, chose to interview her personally... He sent me an audiotape of the interview. It's actually quite interesting, and in Ms. Angel's official file, though I don't recall if you have clearance to listen to that... You've met Ms. Angel, yes, Mr. Marshall?" Drulović took a bite of lamb.
"Not personally, actually," Austin confessed, "though I've heard quite a bit about her. She's got a considerable reputation on Terra. After all..." Austin raised an eyebrow, "...she hasn't always been 'on our side'."
"Very few truly are, Mr. Marshall," said Drulović between bites of lamb. "You? Hmph. Yes, you I trust. I imagine you find it hard to believe that Ms. Angel wishes to work for our government. She's the one who came to rescue me from Hadante, in fact, although I'd appreciate if you didn't share that particular detail with the press." There was a considerable amount of disgust in her voice when she referenced journalists.
"Be as it may, Ms. Angel's track record is far from perfect," Austin pressed, "she's taken many Terran citizens into Aschen custody... executed some of them even. There have been reports of her torturing Terran men and women, some of them publicly. She also stood idly by while -her- people cut the population of our world in half."
Austin digressed, allowing himself another cup of tea. "Truth be told, Director, I'm not fond of the idea of having Marlene Angel involved in Terran affairs. She's a femme fatale, and I doubt if she can be trusted with any position in the TNG."
Austin digressed, allowing himself another cup of tea. "Truth be told, Director, I'm not fond of the idea of having Marlene Angel involved in Terran affairs. She's a femme fatale, and I doubt if she can be trusted with any position in the TNG."
For the longest time, Drulović did not say anything, only watching Austin with a most curious look that suggested an entire array of emotions. "So few of us have the distinction of perfection, Mr. Marshall," murmured the Director. "I don't imagine you've been placed in a situation where you've had to do things you never dreamed you would do... In any case, Mr. Marshall," she said, sighing, and returning to her usual tone, "I don't make Mr. Mulavi's hiring decisions, Mr. Marshall," said Drulović with a small frown. "I only make that decision for those who seek a position with the Bureau." She sipped at her tea, savoring the mint-tinged Arabic liquid.
"I understand," Austin nodded, "...and of course I'll respect any descision made by Mr. Mulavi. I suppose it was a bit out of my place to speak as I did." Austin returned again to his soup, taking several mouthfuls this time.
"Those are all the big happenings, no?" Austin asked, "am I missing anything? Those were by biggest concerns, I suppose."
"Those are all the big happenings, no?" Austin asked, "am I missing anything? Those were by biggest concerns, I suppose."
Drulović set her cup of tea back on its saucer. "Here, yes," she replied, "but you may wish to know that there is currently an armed effort to subjugate the Tauron prefecture on Langara... If it succeeds, the Caprican government may seek to reunite the Aschen Confederation." She reached for her fork, taking another bite of lamb. After swallowing, she spoke again. "It's cold in here, Mr. Marshall... I've noticed lately that I seem cold in most places. Even outside, and it's not yet the end of summer. Sometimes I worry."
"Director?" Austin asked curiously, "are you sick, perhaps? The temperature seems fine to me. Maybe I'm just not noticing it." Well, wasn't that just a strange thing for Drulovic to say. Why would she feel compelled to tell him something so...obscure?
"And the Confederation might get back together? That's interesting," Austin smirked, taking another sip of tea.
"And the Confederation might get back together? That's interesting," Austin smirked, taking another sip of tea.
"Oh, I suppose it's nothing after all," Drulović said. She looked past Austin to the row of pictures hanging in the hall. She brought her fingers to her lips and chuckled softly. "Did I ever tell you where I found my family pictures?" she asked, her brows furrowing as she stared at the wedding photo of her parents. Drulović suddenly looked very small in her chair in the dining room.
Austin Marshal looked onward at the various pictures, recognizing many of them. "You told me about the story behind many of them, but you never told me you -found- them." Austin's eyes flickered from photograph to photograph, remembering that day not long after Drulovic's divorce when they had put them up together.
"How did you find them?" he asked, finishing off her tea with a final sip.
"How did you find them?" he asked, finishing off her tea with a final sip.
Drulović offered a small smile again, an expression as typical and normal for the Director as the twitch of an eye might have been to another. She swallowed the last of her tea and set the teacup in its saucer, her fingers trembling slightly as she placed it there. "In different places, actually, Mr. Marshall," she answered, eyeing the black and white image of a schoolgirl with Drulović's face. "That one, I found in the CIA's files. They kept copies of photos taken at Ellis Island, a secret program to counter the influence of foreign Marxists..." Drulović tapped her fingers idly on the table for a moment, leaning back in her seat.