Joey Alexander knows he is good (fornothing) wrote in rooms,
Re: Gotham: Iris and Joey
[The pale spill of her hair said Alexander like genetic code had at least tried to make them angels in one way, if in none of the others. As for the layout of Blake's place, there were many a few less furniture options this time around. Some had broken after the last party, but there were couches and chairs in the main parlor area and Joey let Iris take her pick of places to sit unless she planned on standing her whole way through this meeting. Maybe she wanted to get in and out, quick smile, drink downed, and then a goodbye. Which was fine with Joey too, he still had sleep to catch up on if he was going to do anythong productive when the sun went down. On Gotham streets, one needed to be alert even more than the needed to be armed.]
No problem. [He said of her thank you, scruffy chin tilted up and away from her when he exhaled a thin stream of weed smoke toward the ceiling. He'd learned through enough experiences that this kind of smoke dissipated fast enough or was just thin enough that it didn't set off smoke detectors in lofted ceilings.
And yeah, he noticed the arms. He noticed the arms of women a lot, but mostly because they were women he was running after or running with. It was always a good idea to catch a glimpse of a junkie from way back, then turn the other way and sprint. Couldn't trust a junkie for shit, he'd learned that the hard way with too many heartaches over the rich girls that came slumming for the summers only to develop habits in the end. But Iris' scars weren't tracks, and Joey contemplated that wordlessly when he took a seat on one of the couches.
Joey nodded with understanding when she said that this was the first time that they'd met in person. Joey figured, like most of the male figures in his family, he would eventually become shit when it came to keeping up with or taking care of the fam. Now as for what he'd been told?] I think the exact words were that I'm a fuckwit. Things are fucked up and different here, I get that, but nobody wants to tell me shit like I'm the little kid now. I don't even know where anybody is most of the fuckin' time, but they let me crash here, so [Shrug.] Can't get too worked up on it, I guess. Pretty clear we're not as close as I thought we were one day going to be.
[And he drew on the thin joint again before offering it Iris' way.] Its not bad for you, read some newspaper that said it cures anxiety or autism or some shit. [Truth.]