InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "No one takes my frock."

Charlie Crews (i_zen) wrote in we_coexist,
@ 2009-07-03 17:26:00

Entry tags:

blind seer, charlie crews, firekeeper, harleen quinzel

So we meet again [Harley, Firekeeper/Blindseer if they wanna]
Charlie was feeling pretty good as he woke up that morning. He had a free scoop of ice cream out there waiting for him; it might have been a silly thing to be happy about, but how often did one get a free scoop of ice cream from a young lady? Not that he thought about her in such terms that might get him arrested, but she was a nice young lady; too many young men and women these days had problems with authority. Charlie had problems with authority, but it was of a different nature.

The detective showered, smiling the whole while, got ready for the day (clothes and such - no shoes yet), and went down to have his usual breakfast - some sort of fruit. He was curious to see what the City would bring to him; as he opened the door to the refrigerator, he took a moment to realize that he was happy. Happiness wasn't a bad thing, but he was happy in a prison. His eyes narrowed as he stared at the cool whiteness with what looked to be a couple fruits that didn't come from Earth at all. He was happy in a prison?

"I could be happy anywhere, or content. A prison is only in the mind. The world is not a prison unless I make it so." His voice took on that singsongy nature that he'd heard on the tapes, but it held questions. Was this true? Could he make a prison a place of content?

"I should find someone and discuss this. Wish Reese were here. Perhaps Jennifer?"

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i_howl
2009-08-05 03:41 pm UTC (link)

Firekeeper got a good look at the look on Charlie's face. She'd seen that look before--a lean lone wolf, cousin-kind but no less dangerous for that, had shot her that look as it crouched over a half-eaten rabbit when she had been much younger. She had scuttled back then, still half a pup and unwilling to challenge one more desperate than herself for a meal.

She did not scuttle now, but she did acquiesce, though reluctantly and with a glare of her own that made it clear in no uncertain terms that she would not have backed down of her own volition. She took a single step backwards, raising her hands to show that she meant no threat, though her posture was still coiled and ready as a spring. There she stood, still and silent, waiting for this to play out.

Still in the doorway, Blind Seer satisfied himself that this would not end in harm to Firekeeper and finally sat, scratching at one ear with his tongue lolling.

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i_zen
2009-08-14 11:52 pm UTC (link)

Charlie remained leaning against the woman for a moment longer as he changed the hold on her leg; it became loose and allowed him to lower her leg by shifting his hand ever so slightly or moving it in general. The hold on her wrist was the only warning she got that he would do damage if she tried to take a cheap shot. As he eased forward, he made sure she didn't fall on her head because he was rather certain she'd done that enough times by now.

As he let her down, he was pretty certain she was capable of shifting her weight and dropping her feet before her head ever touched the ground. Plus he was still holding her wrist, a little higher now and at an angle that wouldn't wrench her arm too much if she tried anything.

"What exactly were you doing when you met her?" His attention was on Firekeeper not on the criminal he was being a little too nice to for his liking. "She's a criminal. And seems to be a little out of touch. I should know." Yes, Charlie had gone round the bend so many times he'd started marking the tree he kept passing.

"She is not to be trusted." If she moved as quickly as he thought she would and as agilely, by now the woman in question would probably be on her feet? Didn't matter though, Charlie wasn't letting go of her wrist quite yet; he didn't trust her any further than he could throw her, and unfortunately, he probably could throw her a good distance.

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i_lovemrj
2009-08-15 03:36 am UTC (link)

Harley had to put one hand on the floor in order to right herself, and it was not a gracefully executed thing. Truthfully if she wasn’t as flexible and athletic as she was, there was no way she could have pulled it off. And he was still holding her wrist. A little too hard for comfort.

So it was gonna be like that, huh? Fine. He wanted to play the bully, she’d let him. For now. It wasn’t like she didn’t have experience. Most men, Harley found, liked to think they were big and strong and macho. You play up to that, they underestimated you. They underestimated you, you could hit ‘em harder because they wouldn’t see it coming.

So she stood awkwardly, arm bent at an odd angle, with a patiently put-upon expression on her face. Which changed as he spoke, becoming instead an affronted scowl. How would he know if she was a criminal or not? He’d met her twice! And she hadn’t done anything bad either time. Well, not really bad. Who’d twisted up his undies?

“Hey!” she protested sharply, tugging unsubtly to get her wrist free. “I ain’t a criminal. Don’t go throwing around accusations that aren’t true!”

Then her voice turned coy, and she deliberately and blatantly batted her lashes at him, obviously insincere. “You know, if you wanted to hold hands, big guy, all you had to do was ask.”

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