Rooms

I do wish there was a way to 'opt out' of this Valentine's madness.

[Locked to Joey A, Shane A, Iris M, Russ C, Lin A, Daniel W, Cris M, Neil D, Casey D, Jack C, Saint R, Preston R]

Hey, so Lou is sick and has some fucked up magic thing going on that's been causing his insomnia or whatever. He's missing, and we need to get him back, but we don't know where he is. If anyone hears about weird shit in their door, or hears from him, or is willing to go help find him or whatever, holla? He needs to get medical attention. He can do some magic shit that puts ppl to sleep too, so don't let him touch you or whatever if he's acting weird.

If anyone finds him, return him to Neil.

[Louis D]

Louis. stay silent on me, I'm going to think you need roadside assistance again.

[Sam A]

hey, you. you back with Harriet?

[The place in Gotham didn't look like a hell of a lot on a regular day. The paint on the walls was the same color the landlord had painted it before whoever had moved in before Russ. The furniture was comfortable and large, it could take abuse and it could take bulk but it wasn't expensive and no one had gone picking it out to match to the drapes and the carpet. It was small and it was clean the careless kind of way that didn't think much of corners and what was in them. But that was before Nathan and after Nathan, the place in Gotham looked like a kid lived there full-time.

There were cars lined up under the coffee table and a row of soldiers running a campaign over the kitchen counter. There was a tiny backpack swinging from the bottom of the stairs, and a small coat, bright blue, hung up alongside a series of darker, heavier ones. Upstairs was the biggest change, with the blue paint and the fairy-lights taped up one wall and the bedspread that was still current-range. Nathan was watching TV in the living room, cartoons and the plink-plunk of music that said the kid was sucked in, more than the grapes and peanut butter and crackers on the plate in his lap did.

And Russ, he was in the kitchen. Sweaty-fucking-palmed like a teenager getting up the balls to ask a chick out, or to smoke his first cigarette, some shit like that. He had coffee in front of him, steaming: of course he had coffee, Nathan was up early and was energy from sun the fuck up to down. Coffee, and there was a pack of cigarettes sitting within reach (above kid-height) on the counter, but he didn't reach. He pictured Ellie the same age or thereabouts as the kid with the curls in front of the cartoons. Not twenty-nine. Not stuck in here, where the doors slammed on opportunity.

He was bare feet, and low-slung jeans and a flannel shirt that looked like he'd dug it out of the laundry hamper that crumpled and when the knock at the door came, he felt like it was a heart-attack. He made for the door, Nathan too engrossed to pay attention - doors meant babysitters, not Mom, he'd learned that lesson by now - and he filled the gap, squint-blue eyes and the mug in his hand.]

[Russ C]
I need your heart's true desire. You want to tell me what that is?

Who: Russ C and Daniel W
What: Visiting people who don't bite. Part II.
When: Way back-dated.
Warnings: Language, from start.

( Part II )

Who: Russ C and Daniel W
What: Visiting sick people. Who don't bite.
When: Way backdated.
Warnings: Language from the start.

( Part I )

[Ford C]

need to tell you something.

[Marina S]

hey. how's the medical shit going?

[Sam A]

so do I need to bring Harriet some fucking flowers?

[Louis D]

I ain't gonna ask if shit is good. I saw Micah's shit. you need anything?

[Daniel W]

run out of music yet?

eta: [Joey A]

Alexander. you don't remember me real well, I remember you.

So I'm in a comic book. That right?

Who: Russ Campbell & Sam Alexander
When: Fuzziest of fuzzy timelines but the other side of Micah.
Where: Ocean's Eleven
Warnings: Language from the start

( The wintery sun was watery as shit but it was desert daylight and after months and months of Gotham's thin sunshine filtering through smog, Russ didn't have a goddamn problem with watery )

[LOCKED TO FORD C, RUSS C.]

Is he okay?


[LOCKED TO SHANE A]

Sorry

[After this, and some digging to avoid a face to face confrontation.]

[locked, individually, to russell c. & marina s.]

[Yes, as Batman.]

Hello. [...] I'm aware that this is rather unorthodox, but I was wondering if [...] I could have a moment of your time.

[Sam A]

hey.

[Ford C]

you talking to me?

[Marina S]

are you

he's ok

sorr

you [Nothing.]

[Marina S]

[Sometime around lunchtime the morning after CPS's visit arrives by recorded-delivery, a batch of paperwork from a medium-level Gotham legal office, setting out the intention of one Russell Campbell to sue regarding custody arrangements. The contact details for a lawyer at the firm are included.

[Ford C]

so don't freak the fuck out on me.

[Sam A]

they returned him this morning. she's got him right now.

[Not even ANON because she is high and drunk and who caaaaares.]

Anybody got the word on a good gigolo?

[Louis D]

know you're pissed. but you're a cop, yeah? teach your sister how to defend herself, even when she can't think straight.

[Delay.] and Ford's back.

Who: Marina & Russ, Nathan asleep
What: Marina stops by after her shift, gets her self esteem demolished AGAIN.
Where: Russ' place
When: Recently.
Warnings: Language.

(  It wasn’t an invite. But it wasn’t a fuck-off-and-die. Somewhere behind a half-closed door, the belt clanked again, and emerged wearing a shirt and carrying boots. No words. )

hi

[Locked: Sam A]

hey.

I need a ride to work.