Bart Allen (just_impulse) wrote in parabolical, @ 2008-03-31 21:57:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | bart allen, yuna |
Who: Bart and OPEN
What: Bart wants food… What else is new?
When: Mid afternoon
Where: A café
Rating TBA
Chloe was being held up in only God knows where, and Bart was trying not to look completely pissed off as he made his way through the lobby of the Sunset Tower Hotel at a slow, lazy pace. He knew that he looked like he was practically dragging himself along, but he didn’t care and didn’t once think about picking his head up or possibly un-slumping his shoulders. There was no need to look uplifting and proper, not now, not in the next few seconds, not ever, not in a million years… Indeed, you probably get the picture, and likely understand the outlook that he chose to follow.
“You look like a kicked puppy.” Kate the Receptionist’s voice interrupted his not so kind strain of thought, and Bart turned to look her over with one hand buried in the pocket of his red hoodie and the other clutching a nearly empty bottle of Mountain Dew. “Please, nobody would be stupid enough to kick me. There would be dire consequences.” Her humored smile was infectious and he grinned at her despite his bad mood.
They exchanged nothing more than those few meager words before a door was being opened for him to step out of. The neatly dressed doorman gave him a you must be insane for going out in this weather kind of look, but said nothing as he went out into the downpour, with nothing but a red hood to protect him from the rain.
He walked briskly away from the hotel and along the paved sidewalk, making sure to keep his head lowered and his tread snappy, anything but listless. When he rounded a corner, away from anybody who might look in his direction, Bart threw the bottle into a trash can that sat to his left, and then promptly took off like a bolt of lightning.
His run through the streets of LA was unseen and undetected by the citizens who found themselves strong enough to brave the constant rain. A nearly unnoticeable flash of red light appeared to speak of his existence, but other than that, there was nothing to hint at him moving faster than anybody could possibly see.
A somewhat crowded café stationed at a corner, aka Fabulous Coffee (could they get any gayer?), was where he eventually settled. It would have seemed odd to the other customers, when he walked inside, barely wet when they themselves were still trying to dry off. Some looked at him with resentment, still cold and wet but wondering how he’d managed to stay neat and dry. Others kept to themselves, knowing that some people in the city were just weird and obviously, able to avoid the rain when they could hardly manage it.