Jonathan Crane (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
restingstitchface) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
maskormenacelogs2019-01-24 01:50 am
restingstitchface) wrote in maskormenacelogs2019-01-24 01:50 am
Entry tags:
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.
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.
no subject
[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.]
no subject
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.