quicklog: thorne manor, dc door
[Graham had no real preference towards where they went. Sure, it'd be nice to have space, to not always be crowded in with strangers, but that was about where his feelings on the matter ended. Home was a place he could never go back to, lost to him, and so he'd adapt to wherever they ended up. He'd been doing it for a long, long time. Gotham was just another city, and he didn't worry about finding work. Plenty to be had, he'd found it before, he'd find it again. Darkness lurked, tempted with crooked fingers, whispers of old ways and habit, but there was no real hurry if they were living in a mansion, was there? A day or two wouldn't kill him.
It was damn huge, the house. Well, no, it was more than a house, and only Constantos could have rivaled the opulence. He wasn't used to it, didn't need it, but he knew Clem would like it just fine. In terms of belongings he didn't have much; he wore his wedding ring, clothes were few, and it was mostly just sentimental things packed up and slung over his shoulder, then deposited in his room, which was more like an apartment in itself. Overwhelming, almost, but he took it all in silence.
The food was real generous, but he didn't eat much. Couldn't get much of a read on the guy, either, Amelia's brother, but he didn't look like anything threatening. Still, this kind of wealth always went hand in hand with bad, at least in his experience, and though he smiled all polite-like as the man (more of a boy, really) introduced himself he wasn't near letting his guard down.
He went upstairs. Later, he could talk with Shane later, talk with Clem; he wanted a shower and a nap. Quiet, quiet, but when he came out of the bathroom Lorelei was there, sitting on the bed. He hadn't seen her in a while, but he knew she'd come back, and he smiled.
She talked about how big the place was, how fancy, as he crawled under the covers, and the phantom sound of her voice lulled him to sleep.]