[closed] yeah yeah and I'm alright

[5055034455]

Date & Time: June 29 — July ∞
Location: Around Exsilium
Characters: Saul & TBA
Summary: A catch-all log for Saul's many business etc. meetings throughout the month, because otherwise there would be like a million logs up. Not even an exaggeration. An actual million.
Warnings: Drugs in Jesse's thread, violence in Coby's, sap in Effie's.

[Sometimes, the best way to get over something is to find a suitable distraction.

Since Saul's #1 distraction has always been work, he doesn't see why that can't be the case here as well — he may not technically be practicing law at the moment, but his skill set is undeniably useful. Extremely so. (As far as he's considered, anyway.) He doesn't need his own office or a secretary or a PI or a bodyguard to get plenty of shit done. He's Saul Goodman, for godssakes — what the hell good is he if he's not working?

His hands have been idle for too long, and look at where they've gotten him.

Devil's tools indeed.

So here he is, keeping busy. Training, doing business, drinking more coffee (and alcohol) than he probably should. Whatever works, right? Right.]

Comments

Sonya | June 29;

[5055034455]

[It took him until almost 5 o'clock to find a place whose coffee doesn't spectacularly suck — around 4:15 he was staring to think he might as well be looking for the Holy Grail itself — but he did it. He found a place. He'd have kissed the barista, if he were Saul's type.

Sonya had better appreciates his efforts.

The coffee shop is a little hole-in-the-wall place that Saul almost missed completely, a little further from the Hold than he usually strays, but it's worth the walk.

So he texts Sonya directions, settles into a fairly beat-up looking couch, wonders if this isn't actually someone's apartment, and waits.]

[legal_eagle]

[She wonders the same thing. Someone's apartment, or a little flophouse - but it could be a house of ill repute, and so long as the madam could get the coffee strong and without too much acid Sonya would be there every night.

Saul's lounging there, looking like he owns the place; she smiles to see that. It's nice to see him looking decently far away from death. So she swings in, drops her back, settles in next to him.]

Hey there.

[5055034455]

[Oh, he's looking much better — color in his cheeks and everything. And there's the old familiar smile, bright and on display as soon as he looks up and spots Sonya.

They probably have a lot to talk about, don't they?

And it's probably nothing he wants to talk about.

Ah, well.]

Hey.

"drops her back" bag, self, it sounds like she was twerking or something

[legal_eagle]

[Her grin grows a little bit wider; in a deliberate display of insouciance, she pulls out her lip gloss and dabs a bit on.]

You look less like you're dying.

sdkjhf HAHA I didn't even notice that

[5055034455]

[Her display earns her a little laugh. It's too late. He saw the look on her face. He heard her, back in the catacombs. SHE CARES.

Saul Goodman's confusing life, man. People need to stop with this nonsense.]

I feel less like I'm dying. I feel pretty damn good, actually. And you look... like you. Still pretty.

KNOCK KNOCK, FOOL (july 2nd)

[hejhej]

[Saul's getting a surprise this morning with Lisbeth standing on the other side of his door. She knocks on the door before resting on her heels. Lisbeth has two travel mugs filled with coffee and a Tupperware container with the cinnamon rolls Jules made that morning for breakfast. She made sure no one else was in the apartment while she wrapped up all the things she had with her now.

Lisbeth also didn't want anyone to see her bright red roots that were showing. She was hiding them constantly from Jesse by making sure her head was under the pillow whenever they woke up and wore a beanie around the city constantly.

She pulls on the beanie before she knocks again on Saul's door.]

OH SHI—

[5055034455]

[Yeah, this is a surprise. Saul actually almost jumps when he sees who's standing on the other side of the door, because — well. What.

But he plays it cool, flashing a grin her way and leaning against the door frame oh-so-casually, arms folded.]

Wow. Didn't know Eminem had a sister. What's up?

[hejhej]

[She openly scowls at his remark before pushing past him and into his apartment. If he had any roommates, she really didn't care if they were there.]

Haven't seen you since the epidemic. I was hoping I wouldn't find a corpse.

[5055034455]

[She's in luck; neither Remy nor Lee are around at the moment. They rarely seem to be — ships passing in the night, those three.

Saul steps aside, then nudges the door shut with his foot. For a bachelor pad, their place is fairly neat. (Then again, it's also fairly empty. Not very lived-in.)

He smirks.]

Of course not. You know as well as I do that the dead reanimate 'round these parts. Anyway, no, I didn't die this time. Almost, though! Almost.

DID SOMEONE SAY CAFFIENE - July 2nd

[curatesecrets]

[Artie comes knocking on Saul's door at a comfortable hour of the afternoon - around two-ish. enough time for him to have gotten business done if it needed doing]

GLUG GLUG

[5055034455]

[And there's Saul, still fueled up on the caffeine and sugar Lisbeth provided him earlier. He practically bounces on his feet when he opens the door — swings it open, rather — and greets Artie with his arms outstretched.]

Nielsen!

I LOL'D

[curatesecrets]

[he staggers back a step or so out of sheer bewilderment.]

Good God. .... Are you sure you want caffiene?

\8D/

[5055034455]

[ARTIE.

What's your problem.

Saul claps him on the shoulder, grinning.]

Sure I'm sure.

Jesse | July 4;

[5055034455]

[This is what the Founding Fathers would have wanted: two dudes toking in the name of freedom. It's not a barbecue, but it'll do, Saul guesses — he wouldn't trust pools around here, anyway. They'd probably be filled with acid or something.

He's totally dressed-down today, donning a polo and... jeans?

Yup. Jeans.

And he looks way too smug about God knows what as he knocks on unit 409's door.]

[hostage]

[Okay. Jesse looks suspicious the moment he opens the door.]

What happened to you? Finally get laid or something?

[5055034455]

[HE WISHES. God, Jesse. Don't burst his bubble.]

Alas, no. What, I can't be in a good mood on this, my most favorite holiday?

[hostage]

What holiday?

Coby | July 6;

[5055034455]

[Saul has absolutely no idea what he's getting himself into. He's never had a personal trainer, never even considered learning a fighting style aside from "drunk, mad, and Irish," and even though he'd like to think he has a pretty decent right hook and is kind of in shape, he knows he's about to be proven wrong in every possible way.

This remains a bad idea.

And yet there he is, waiting for Coby in one of the training rooms. Maybe Coby will be proud that his new student had the good sense to do some stretches before getting started, but all odds point to Coby finding Saul sprawled out on the mat, eyes fixed on the ceiling, contemplating the pain in his future.

(...and his present. He might have tweaked something in his back while stretching. Shh.)]

[chore_boy]

[Three years ago, Coby would have been shaking and crying had he been in Saul's position. The young man had been completely terrified of literally all forms of violence, thinking it would be impossible for him to ever be strong and capable of defending himself. In three years, he made much more than just exponential steps, taking a borderline Captain America sort of turn in his stature.

He swung the door open to the training room, looking down at Saul, who had already planted himself on the floor. Raising one brow, Coby smiled in query.]

Good afternoon. Did you remember to bring everything?

[5055034455]

[The sound of the door opening makes him so tense that he might as well have not stretched at all.

Great.

He tilts his head to glance at Coby, already scowling.]

I'm here, aren't I?

[chore_boy]

Oh, come on. I take this very seriously, sir. [Coby didn't need to stretch. He had already been there for hours--just not in his hours for training others. Saul would be one of the first few for the day.]

I'm certain, though, that you may want to quit after today.

Do you think you will?

Effie | July 14;

[5055034455]

[So Saul's not sure whether to consider this a legitimate date or not because he hasn't been on one of those in a very long time, but he supposes all evidence points to this being a real date: he's in his nicest suit (the blue and gray number that came with him from home), his shoes are freshly shined, he's sporting some cologne that only faintly reeks of desperation, and he got her a flower.

Just one.

Because they're apparently expensive as hell and he is not ready to make that kind of commitment yet. At least he went for a rose — a white one, symbolic of sincerity or some bullshit like that. It's currently tucked into the outer pocket of his jacket, an accent to his suit that he's going to pluck out and offer to her as soon as she opens the door.

...he should probably knock, huh?

A quick glance at his watch reports 7:59. Since she demanded 8:00 and he promised 8:00 on the dot, he waits for the second hand to sweep around, and only then does he tap out a rhythm against her door with his knuckles.]

Re: Effie | July 14;

[powdered]

[ Effie had spent the better part of her day preparing. Not because she really needed that much time, but because it felt good to be busy doing something she knew how to do. Effie didn't know how to hold a gun or fight a battle, but she did know how to make an appearance.

She didn't have a stylist or a makeup artist so everything had to be done by her own hand. First was carefully ironing the delicate silk of her dress. Second was teasing and carefully rearranging her wig, twisting the synthetic curls back into a more elegant coif for the evening. Third was to find the best lighting available and make up her face which was a task unto itself.

It was frustrating to work with both limited resources and assistance. By Capitol standards she was grossly underdressed for a night on the town. Effie had been told time and time again to not stand out, so she would suffer a more demure look if only to preserve her limited resources and see if it could be done tolerably.

Admiring herself in the mirror, Effie had to admit to herself that given the circumstances her results were not entirely unsatisfactory. Less than what she was used to was more than enough for these people, and above what Exsilium deserved from her.

Gone was the embellished jacket with high shoulders, saved for a more formal occasion worth risking the expensive fabric and beading- the dress was brilliant on its own. Her wig had been rolled back from her face into an elaborate series of curls and swept high in an updo, fastened with the flower broach of her choker. The makeup had been her biggest struggle, with less than half of her usual cosmetics on hand. In the end she had mixed her foundation and shimmer powder with her moisturizer for a thinner and more dewy coating, with only a flush of pink on her lids and cheeks for colour. Effie's 'signature' for the evening's look was the brighter red lace pattern embellishing her lips, created by dabbing rouge over the lace fabric of her powder case sleeve.

Despite having worked for a solid six hours Effie was finished only moment before Saul's arrival, and with a quick mist of sugary perfume watched the clock for a full minute before opening the door. She didn't want to look too eager after all.

Even if the man she was looking at had cleaned up rather well, definitely better than she had expected. ]

Oh Saul, a pleasure to see you- and on time I might add.

[5055034455]

[Saul, on the other hand, was expecting Effie to look considerably more toned down than she did when he first — and last — saw her. He knows this place has already started taking its toll on her because he heard it in her choked sobs just the other day, but by all appearances, she seems perfectly fine. Better than fine, even.

She looks great. He has no idea how she managed it.

So he's appropriately impressed when she greets him, eyebrows up as he takes in the sight of her. For about one second, his thought process strays elsewhere and he finds himself wondering if taking all of that off would take as long as it did to get on, but — no, he's getting ahead of himself.

He offers her the flower as planned and flashes her a bright, wry grin.]

On the dot, as promised.

[powdered]

[ The rose was pretty and immediately recognizable. They were a favourite in the Capitol- and the familiarity of it was so comforting it made her sigh wistfully.

Effie took the flower from Saul without hesitation and gifted him with a dazzling smile that met her eyes in response. ]

Why thank you, it's lovely.

[ She twirled the stem in her fingers, admiring the white petals. Upon closer inspection they looked brighter and whiter than any other she had ever seen. Effie canted her head to the side with a bob of curls, musing for a moment before speaking again. ]

I'm not certain what it is, but maybe because Exsilium is so bleak I can truly appreciate this rose.

I don't think I've ever seen one look so beautiful as it does now.

[ She lifted it to her powdered nose to inhale the sweetness of the scent, closing her eyes for a moment before opening them again with a flutter of sparkling lashes. ]

One moment, I just want to put it in a vase or... whatever is available.