From glen to glen, and down the mountain side
Danny Smalls enters the Conrad Hotel injured which only bodes well as to what his experience in Chicago will be like. He limps across the lobby. White blood drips from the injury on his ankle. People are staring at the tiny man and his trail of... white liquid. There are groups of them who eventually start pointing and whispering at both the trail and him.
He notices. He tries to ignore it, but there's only so much a young archangel can take, okay? Danny turns to the group of strangers and looks them all over like they have somehow personally offended him with their stares. He honestly looks hurt like they're the ones who sunk their teeth in his ankle.
"What? You never seen a fella bleed before? You have to keep on staring like it's the most perplexin' thing you've seen since never? Yeah. It's white. It's a medical condition. Very serious. I only got six months to live!" Danny winces several times at the line of lies. The crowd seems to get the picture though. They start to look away with guilt and disperse. He waves a pointed finger after them. "Yeah, feel guilty. You should all be ashamed of yourselves. Go home and hug your mother."
Danny whirls to the receptionist who is not at her desk. Well. He could have sworn someone was here only moments ago. Did he scare her off? What's she doing in a hotel for angels and what not if she's so easily scared? Rotten luck. He taps his foot impatiently on the tile and then hisses in pain. "Oh, yeeaaaaah. Injured. That would be why that's happenin. Hey, receptionist lady, I need to be recepted on. Here."
Robin Rice destroyed his journal in a fit of frustration when the hours passed and he still had heard nothing helpful. It's now in a pile of incoherent slips of paper on his room. He's sitting on the edge of the Conrad's roof attempting not to panic and not doing a very good job at it. There are a few empty cartons of cigarettes piled up next to him. He's staring down at the rest of the world.
Rachel Dawes is missing. His heart aches every time that thought rams itself into his head, again and again and again. He knew this would happen. He knew something would happen. It always does in this city. Maybe if they'd never had their date, she'd still be safe, but his guilt complex isn't so big that he actually believes that. His fingers are trembling. He's walked all over this city, every street, every building. Searched through dumpsters for her body. He's seen a lot over these last few days that he would rather not repeat. Right now, he'd just appreciate it if his heart could calm down enough to allow him to sleep. If he sleeps for even an hour, his journal will come back, and he can see if there's been any change. If there hasn't, he doesn't know what he'll do.
Rusty Hunt is in Grant Park. He's actually selling drugs, again, which is a nice change considering how many times he had to pay his own boss off cause he hadn't bothered to leave his apartment for days. It's hard being in this park, again, after what happened last time though. He keeps getting hit with memories, images. It's not good.
Speaking of people getting out for the first time in a long time, Luke Roberts who looks like he hasn't seen the sun in months (which isn't far from the truth) is opening the door to his room. He can't bring himself to actually leave it yet as he stands in the doorway staring at the floor under his feet. The urge to transform into a kitten and walk around in a form that's much more unassuming and easily missed is really difficult to resist.
He notices. He tries to ignore it, but there's only so much a young archangel can take, okay? Danny turns to the group of strangers and looks them all over like they have somehow personally offended him with their stares. He honestly looks hurt like they're the ones who sunk their teeth in his ankle.
"What? You never seen a fella bleed before? You have to keep on staring like it's the most perplexin' thing you've seen since never? Yeah. It's white. It's a medical condition. Very serious. I only got six months to live!" Danny winces several times at the line of lies. The crowd seems to get the picture though. They start to look away with guilt and disperse. He waves a pointed finger after them. "Yeah, feel guilty. You should all be ashamed of yourselves. Go home and hug your mother."
Danny whirls to the receptionist who is not at her desk. Well. He could have sworn someone was here only moments ago. Did he scare her off? What's she doing in a hotel for angels and what not if she's so easily scared? Rotten luck. He taps his foot impatiently on the tile and then hisses in pain. "Oh, yeeaaaaah. Injured. That would be why that's happenin. Hey, receptionist lady, I need to be recepted on. Here."
Robin Rice destroyed his journal in a fit of frustration when the hours passed and he still had heard nothing helpful. It's now in a pile of incoherent slips of paper on his room. He's sitting on the edge of the Conrad's roof attempting not to panic and not doing a very good job at it. There are a few empty cartons of cigarettes piled up next to him. He's staring down at the rest of the world.
Rachel Dawes is missing. His heart aches every time that thought rams itself into his head, again and again and again. He knew this would happen. He knew something would happen. It always does in this city. Maybe if they'd never had their date, she'd still be safe, but his guilt complex isn't so big that he actually believes that. His fingers are trembling. He's walked all over this city, every street, every building. Searched through dumpsters for her body. He's seen a lot over these last few days that he would rather not repeat. Right now, he'd just appreciate it if his heart could calm down enough to allow him to sleep. If he sleeps for even an hour, his journal will come back, and he can see if there's been any change. If there hasn't, he doesn't know what he'll do.
Rusty Hunt is in Grant Park. He's actually selling drugs, again, which is a nice change considering how many times he had to pay his own boss off cause he hadn't bothered to leave his apartment for days. It's hard being in this park, again, after what happened last time though. He keeps getting hit with memories, images. It's not good.
Speaking of people getting out for the first time in a long time, Luke Roberts who looks like he hasn't seen the sun in months (which isn't far from the truth) is opening the door to his room. He can't bring himself to actually leave it yet as he stands in the doorway staring at the floor under his feet. The urge to transform into a kitten and walk around in a form that's much more unassuming and easily missed is really difficult to resist.