Who: Bartleby and Loki What: Brotherly reunions of the happiest kind. When: Afternoon, after Loki's graffiti post. Where: Bartleby's divey hotel room. Status/Rating: incomplete/R DO NOT READ THIS AT WORK. They have mouths on them.
The address he'd given Loki was a dive, and he knew his friend wouldn't be afraid to say it. But Bartleby had his reasons for staying in the place. It was small, most of the furniture in the room was in various stages of disrepair, and the paper was peeling from the walls and yellowing from the sunlight— almost the only light in the room—but it had a view. The view of the busy shopping center below was what mattered. Bartleby liked to people watch. It was all he'd done, after all, before the… incident. There was no reason for him to be grinning while thinking about the incident and normally he wouldn't have been, but Loki had that effect on him. Things were better when the other angel was around and finally he was here.
"He's gonna be pissed he missed the apocalypse," Bartleby smirked as he kicked the bloodstained sword he'd arrived with underneath his bed (there was really no need to bring that up so early in the reunion). The Horsemen had sent their regards, but he knew Loki was going to be pissed that he hadn't been there for it.
Finished, he moved over to the window and sat down on the sil. Looking down at the street he'd be able to see Loki approach. Unless the little fucker flew in, which hell, was certainly a possibility.