Repose

Effervescent.

I still like the way the word sounds.

Who: Flash, Felicity
Where: mansion outside of the Capital
When: recentlyish
What: test run for the team
Warnings: violence, but probs not much!

( Reaper was in the shadows. )

Who: Rory & Jack
What: A talk long overdue.
Where: Outside Jack's office, to start.
When: Mid-day. The day after the party.



[Rory, he'd gotten his (after)life together, all chipped veneer teeth and bloodstains, rusted bolts and expired warranties, all of it got a quick polishing in the morning after. There'd been plenty to drink, and he'd indulged like a motherfucker, but his inability to get appropriately shitfaced was as much a blessing as a curse because he didn't wake up after parties with a foggy sense of history and scars. He remembered everything, the girl and the pool and the champagne. He wasn't crammed or corked in a bottle's neck, and a quick swig of mouthwash eradicated the stale sour of last night's wine as Rory readied himself in the mirror.

It was too damn hot for a suit and tie, but he wore one for this long work day anyway. The writer was his point of focus most recently, and Rory followed him from the B&B to the man's office. The office was above a book store, and for most of the day, Rory killed time by flipping through stained pages and mass produced texts. There were multiple versions of Paradise Lost and a book of William Blake's illustrations, these things occupied Rory for most of the early day which he staked out the writer's office.

He wasn't going to buy anything, and was rather just passing time until Jack, the writer, decided to make his walk home.]

[Claire J]

So I know this was supposed to happen a few days ago, but check in. Okay from the party?

[Eddie N]

Hi again.

[Cat C]
[After this.]

Hi?