maskormenacelogs | Well I sit and hear sentimental footsteps

WHO: Crane and Iris
WHERE: Iceberg Lounge at Maurtia Falls
WHEN: Late January
WHAT: Business
WARNINGS: Shady business

[The month crawls by. It isn't until the fourth week that Crane realizes that, perhaps quite solemnly, that he will be enjoying his private company every day again. There are no plans that have to change at the last minute for some senseless reason. Nobody coming round to tell him how they feel about him. No wimps or weirdos disputung matters that fly right over his head.

Today, like the last day, will always be the same.

He stares at the crowd, studying them. He doesn't respond much to questions and fumbles with his tumbler. Harley is gone and he is alone. Life continues as though she hasn't existed - and he folds his arms and sighs, throughly bored of the grind.

But the only thing worse than drinking to avoid your future is drowning your sorrows.

He doesn't know how long he spends there at the bar, reading for such long periods of time that he becomes a regular. Though he is a bored man, he is still very much a patient man, and like any pathological drinker seems to be waiting for someone.

He is still sitting there when Iris comes in.]

Thank you for coming.

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[His fingernails clack the bar as he musingly rubs his chin with the back of his other hand.]

Truth be told, I'm uncertain. This isn't exactly my mileau.

[He gestures towards himself.]

Look at me. I'm an academic, not a businessman. Money is something I use to fund research, not little investments on the side.

Right, but a lot of the same principles that you've done - like grant-writing, for instance - go into funding a business.

[ while her graduate studies focused on journalism, Iris has enough familiarity with academia to wager where the true similarities lie. Instead of writing a grant proposal to the NSF, or CDC, or NIH, or any large umbrella organization, Crane would be applying for capital from other angel investors or venture capital firms.

(That is, again, if he wanted to be beholden to them.) ]

I won't lie, it was pretty scary when James' lawyer came by and told me I was now the proud owner of the Nickel. I could've sold the place then and there, but... the more I thought about it, the more I realized I wasn't alone. [ and neither is Crane. ] If this is something you want to do, I'm all in, zero questions asked.

[One of his fingers begins tapping the bar. Being tied down by financial obligations - dominated by others - doesn't appeal to him much anymore. Not that it had appealed to him at all, but at least back then could stomach it. And the last time he had played with private investment? Things had changed. In a manner that wouldn't be prudent here.]

I would prefer a hands-off role. [He clicks his tongue in his cheek.] No, that's not exactly it. Honestly, I'm uncertain? This isn't exactly my mileau.

[She was right to say she had realized she wasn't alone. Because he's feeling pretty alone in this bar right now.]

Plus, be honest. My name isn't exactly going to draw investors in, these days.

[ he has a point, as much as Iris doesn't want to admit it. Angel investors had flocked to Iris like a moth to a flame because of her clean record - she was reliable and she had no known hero or villain connections (outside of friendships). Crane would be more difficult, but...

If Adachi could flip his luck around, Crane could too. She leans forward, resting her hands on the table and furrowing her brow in thought. ]

Well, I'm pretty hands-off with the Nickel. I check the budgets, sign off on new hires, but let my managers take day-to-day reins. It's worked out, mostly.

[ mostly because one of her employees (okay, Reggie Mantle) isn't exactly fond of legal endeavors, but that's not something Iris wants to deal with, so she lets it slide... for now. ]

Not right away, but... what if we added my name to it, or formed a LLC with one of the law firms? That could ease the burden on you.

[Crane lifts a quizzical brow. A sign of mistrust. He has little faith in others - he believes only in his own effort. Why would she help him? Is she mad?]

Yes, but... so would robbing a bank, honestly.

[He says jokingly. He's just making time so he can consider her offer, really. Right?]

[ she laughs, despite her instincts telling her otherwise, before giving Crane a focused, determined look - ]

Yeah, well.. let's hope it doesn't come to that. That'd be like throwing in the towel before the first ball's thrown.

[ no one ever said Iris was good at sports metaphors.

besides, it seems foolproof, in her eyes: Iris has her hands in nearly every pie, from Instagrahm influencers (thanks, Ace) to brick-and-mortar businesses to journalism and even hospitals. Might as well put some of that experience to good use! ]

Well, has it occurred to you that people like me simply regard that as being flexible?

[The two of them are from different walks of life. He's committed acts she wouldn't. She's befriended people he couldn't. His fingernails idly clack against the counter.]

But, you know, it might be wise to dip our fingers in both your options. It would certainly make this place more appealing to the... local community.

[ImPorts. Another set of people he can't befriend.]

[ she frowns, all the same – she knows Crane's past, just as she knows that regardless of the universe, Iris West-Allen has been able to look past that 'flexibility.' Her moral code won't let her bend that far, so for the time being she lets it slide. ]

Honestly, I could think of a few people who would frequent this place as it is, and you never know who the Porter would bring in.

[ Good or bad. ]

I'll call up my lawyers tomorrow, then. Just to put it all on the books.

Well I sit and hear sentimental footsteps

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sorry this is late!

no worries!! clearly i'm just as punctual

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