(no subject)
Oh, hey, Chicago. Alex Drake has briefly come out of hibernation, and really wishing that she had that hooker coat with her now. She's decided to venture out before she goes completely mad from spending too much time in her room in the Kashtta. (It probably doesn't help that she spent most of December wandering around the place and trying to refine her Rift power.) Also, she needs to stock up on booze and chocolate, the two staples of her diet.
And, all right, it might be nice to see someone other than her guardian angel for once. Not that she doesn't love Fitz dearly, because she does, but he's the only contact in her mobile, and that's just depressing. (She half expects him to pop up anyway, because he's Fitz, and possibly because setting foot outside has this unerring tendency to end up life-threatening. She'd blame Sam, but he's only been involved once. She might blame him anyway, just because Sam is a convenient scapegoat like that.)
She only knows a handful of people in Chicago, and she met most of those under, well, slightly stressful circumstances. Being stabbed, psychic comas, that sort of thing. Or possibly while she was less than sober. Or both! The life of Alex Drake is full of danger and alcohol. Surprisingly, the former is not, in fact, often caused by the latter, but exists in a delightful realm of cause-and-effect all its own, which Alex is firmly convinced has been created entirely by her own mind.
Anyway, in Alex's educated opinion, winter sucks. But since she can't afford a ticket to the Caribbean (and is slightly afraid of what she might find there in weird-alternate-Rifty-land, like krakens and skeleton pirates), she's out soaking up the thin sunlight somewhere in downtown and taking in the sights. It's not London, but the bustle makes it feel a bit more like home.
And, all right, it might be nice to see someone other than her guardian angel for once. Not that she doesn't love Fitz dearly, because she does, but he's the only contact in her mobile, and that's just depressing. (She half expects him to pop up anyway, because he's Fitz, and possibly because setting foot outside has this unerring tendency to end up life-threatening. She'd blame Sam, but he's only been involved once. She might blame him anyway, just because Sam is a convenient scapegoat like that.)
She only knows a handful of people in Chicago, and she met most of those under, well, slightly stressful circumstances. Being stabbed, psychic comas, that sort of thing. Or possibly while she was less than sober. Or both! The life of Alex Drake is full of danger and alcohol. Surprisingly, the former is not, in fact, often caused by the latter, but exists in a delightful realm of cause-and-effect all its own, which Alex is firmly convinced has been created entirely by her own mind.
Anyway, in Alex's educated opinion, winter sucks. But since she can't afford a ticket to the Caribbean (and is slightly afraid of what she might find there in weird-alternate-Rifty-land, like krakens and skeleton pirates), she's out soaking up the thin sunlight somewhere in downtown and taking in the sights. It's not London, but the bustle makes it feel a bit more like home.