Re: Tory & Jamie: the Apartment
Jamie laughed. Comfortably, not like, awkwardly or anything, he was sprawled out and his limbs were lead and his eyelids were half-shut and he still kinda liked the fact Tory bothered asking. "Both? Like, learning how to do better," he kind of shrugged, and he knew from what Tory had said, about the pseudo-brother upstairs, Paul. Did Tory have a bunch of tall, very red-headed siblings? He craned his neck, cracked one eye.
"They live in Repose, yeah. Si and Amy, and no, we didn't move here, we all kind of gradually moved here," which didn't make a lot of sense, but Jamie was half-way to asleep and it was a pretty big feat he was still talking. he was definitely in the 'roll over, crash' camp. "We were all different places before." Which wasn't very illuminating, but he was working with limited brain power and the vague implication of what his sibs did and didn't do. "Do you have any?" Siblings, he meant, and he looked at Tory, with recognition.
"I used to live there. The Neighborhood, in my friend's mom's place. She didn't live there," clarification, because that was important. "I know it. A friend of mine still lives there, Billy. He works at the comic book place, I think. Is that shit you're into?" Comic books. It kinda went with the science thing, maybe, and he laughed, muffled as he crammed his cheek down into the pillow and stretched his feet, flexed so hard he could feel something pop. "Pro cat. You got what you came for, mostly," no cat, but under the circumstances, preferential, and Jamie drifted on that cusp between sleep and awake where awake looked harder and harder to maintain.