For tomorrow may rain, so I'll follow the sun...

[gotbottle]

Chicago's trying to move on. So are its residents. Five in particular today are engaged in their own little rituals, trying to either deal with the aftermath of the plagues or to restore some normalcy to their lives.

Rachel Conway steps under the yellow tape that marks off the burnt remains of Twice Sold Tales. She walks up to what remains of

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[museprint]

Casey spots the man with the newspaper as he exits said coffee shop and sighs, rubbing his forehead. He doesn't want to think about the news, or journalism, or anything right now. There's a voice message on his phone, from his boss, saying he's been promoted to an actual reporter. "No more intern title. Just come in as soon as you can, let us know you're okay. Please, Ace."

He should be happy about that, but he's not. It's only because of the circumstances; if so many members of the Tribune staff hadn't died during the plagues, that message wouldn't exist.

He'll go to the office, later. For now, he's going to hang out here and people-watch.

[weepnot_thepast]

Dylan hears the sigh, and looks up. He sees the guy who's just come out turn his attention away and start watching the rest of the scene out here on the sidewalk.

He folds up the paper and sets it aside. He wasn't really reading anyway. He sips his coffee, makes a face at it, and dumps in a couple more sugar packets.

When Ace glances his way again he nods a polite hello.

[museprint]

The nod and wave is returned, with a bonus halfhearted smile. He's tired, still, and the caffeine hasn't kicked in just yet.

Dylan should not take his coffee for granted like that.

Ace hesitates for a few moments before speaking. Dylan might not want company, but...

"Hey."

[weepnot_thepast]

"Hey."

Dylan watches him for a moment, then gestures at the other chair. "They're busy in there today. Need a seat?"

[museprint]

"Yeah, sure. Thanks." He flops into the chair opposite Dylan, then runs a hand through his already tousled hair. "So, hi. I'm Ace."

Handshake time now?

[weepnot_thepast]

Handshake time indeed. "Dylan. Good to meet you."

He leans back in his seat a bit. "Hell of a time this city's having lately, huh?"

[museprint]

Ace's laugh is a short, somewhat bitter one. "Heh. Yeah, I guess you could put it that way."

He doesn't want the reporter to kick in. Instinct tells him that this is not the time, it's too soon - but he's still curious. He still has questions. He can't help it.

"Did you come out of it all right? I mean, you look okay, but - yeah."

[weepnot_thepast]

Dylan raises an eyebrow and then he smiles. "Yeah, yeah, I'm just fine. I'm pretty new 'round these parts so it was just me and my cat I had to worry about, and we're both okay. My family's all back in Virginia so I didn't have to worry none about them."

He fixes Ace with a sympathetic look. "What about you?"

[museprint]

"I'm also fine," he says, giving a little handwave of dismissal, like it was all really No Big Deal. "My family, too. Man, you picked a hell of a time to show up here - where are you from?"