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thefirethingCharlie caught the first Brock Report about Longmont, Virginia while she was sitting in a coffee shop in Seattle and at first, the details Eddie gave were vague. But there were promises of more to come, more information exposed and that wasn't something Charlie could have. And she was certain Eddie didn't want the trouble that was coming his way, either. Not that he knew of it, but Charlie was sure The Shop was watching for this kind of thing. Waiting for someone this nosy and planning how to silence him.
Charlie was sure Eddie was asking for his own demise, he just didn't know it. So Charlie stole and lied and Pushed her way to San Francisco and worked hard to seek him out. She had her cover story. She had a stolen backpack that she'd lifted from a loud and obnoxious girl her age who looked super rich and was probably wicked popular. With money she found in the backpack (and it was actually a ridiculous amount, so Charlie's original assessment had been spot-on) she bought the clothes to fit the part. The only thing she didn't buy was a pair of shoes. Hers were beyond well broken in, and walking up to Eddie in uncomfortable shoes didn't seem like the best idea. He'd see through that, she was sure of it. She grabbed herself a room at a crappy hotel that didn't ask questions, grabbed some food and a shower and eventually found Eddie working on something in a park, files on his knee and taking notes.
He was easily recognized, honestly. There were a couple posters of him around town, so it wasn't like she would forget what he looked like.
Hopefully, he wouldn't see through the act she had to put on to talk to him, so that it wouldn't lead back to her in any bad way. She just wanted to deter him from his current project. It was for his safety.
Approaching Eddie with a faint bounce to her step, blonde ponytail swinging between her shoulders, she spoke in a cheerful and semi-awestruck tone.
"Oh, my God. You're Eddie Brock, right?" she asks, one hand gripping the strap of her stolen backpack, the other pointing at Eddie. "Sorry to bother you. You look like you're working. I'm just...a huge fan." A grin and an adjustment of the backpack and then she extends her hand to introduce herself with the fake name she'd come up with. "Katie Callowhill. Hi."
Charlie was sure Eddie was asking for his own demise, he just didn't know it. So Charlie stole and lied and Pushed her way to San Francisco and worked hard to seek him out. She had her cover story. She had a stolen backpack that she'd lifted from a loud and obnoxious girl her age who looked super rich and was probably wicked popular. With money she found in the backpack (and it was actually a ridiculous amount, so Charlie's original assessment had been spot-on) she bought the clothes to fit the part. The only thing she didn't buy was a pair of shoes. Hers were beyond well broken in, and walking up to Eddie in uncomfortable shoes didn't seem like the best idea. He'd see through that, she was sure of it. She grabbed herself a room at a crappy hotel that didn't ask questions, grabbed some food and a shower and eventually found Eddie working on something in a park, files on his knee and taking notes.
He was easily recognized, honestly. There were a couple posters of him around town, so it wasn't like she would forget what he looked like.
Hopefully, he wouldn't see through the act she had to put on to talk to him, so that it wouldn't lead back to her in any bad way. She just wanted to deter him from his current project. It was for his safety.
Approaching Eddie with a faint bounce to her step, blonde ponytail swinging between her shoulders, she spoke in a cheerful and semi-awestruck tone.
"Oh, my God. You're Eddie Brock, right?" she asks, one hand gripping the strap of her stolen backpack, the other pointing at Eddie. "Sorry to bother you. You look like you're working. I'm just...a huge fan." A grin and an adjustment of the backpack and then she extends her hand to introduce herself with the fake name she'd come up with. "Katie Callowhill. Hi."
