Micah won't drown in the (downpour) wrote in rooms, @ 2014-12-22 13:01:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | !marvel comics, *narrative, micah callaghan |
Who: Micah Callaghan
What: Stalking Louis
Where: Marvel: NYC
When: Recent
Warnings/Rating: None really
Really, it happened by chance. His place in the Gatsby door was nice and all, but he was a child of the modern day and the sorts of conveniences that he had been spoiled by were definitely missed. So he took a chance and he took a trip, avoiding the door that led to Gotham quite purposefully as he didn't need to risk being seen by those that would be less than pleased with his presence. Marvel seemed the better option given its size and modern-day setting. It was an opportunity to stock up on a few things, to perhaps even get a room for the night somewhere and enjoy a little entertainment while catching up on a few things online. Who would have thought he'd run into him.
Micah nearly didn't recognize him, and he certainly didn't approach him, but there was no mistaking the man he saw crossing the street. He'd remember his face anywhere, any time, given that he was responsible for the months and months that he spent behind bars. Louis Donovan. And it appeared that Louis had a job upholding the law now. Interesting job for a man who had pulled so many strings to get him incarcerated.
The cell phone that refused to work back in Gatsby worked here, and pictures were taken as he trailed the man for several blocks. And most importantly of all, a picture of Louis entering the NYPD offices. That was the key one, he knew, the one that would work later on to his benefit.
It didn't take long to find a place to have the pictures printed, some self-serve kiosk that didn't ask questions so long as he had the money to pay. They were tucked into a festive holiday box, a jolly Christmas card purchased as well with a little message scrawled within.
That was one Christmas gift down. Micah just hoped she'd appreciate it.
Some sort of peace settled over him with that out of the way, and it was then that he could let himself relax and enjoy the city for his short stay. Streets were wandered and lights were looked at, but it was a poster that caught his eye. A support group. Anonymity promised. And lord knew that he could use someone to talk to about all that was going through his head, the things that he couldn't talk about elsewhere. Micah jotted down the address and time, shoved the scrap of paper in his pocket, and continued on, thinking of going, of what it could mean to let some of his thoughts out.