It blows no snow across the New York streets...
It's a cold, snowy day, though not as cold as it has been, and to anyone who's been in Chicago for most of this winter, the one degree below freezing feels balmy by comparison.
This, thinks the demon who just strode into the Kashtta Tower like he owned the place, is likely the City's way of welcoming him back.
Elashte called from the airport when he got into town, after a truly impressive series of flight delays due to weather. True, this isn't generally how things are done, especially not when one is visiting an old... partner, and especially not when bringing a foreign dignitary to meet said old partner, but it's always been in Elashte's nature to be cautious, and he dislikes telegraphing his activities before he has a sense of his surroundings. He's not naive enough to think that Chicago hasn't changed, in the months he's been gone.
The foreign dignitary in question, a 5'2" woman with a wary, calculating air, has made herself at home by the at-the-moment-empty reception desk, idly flipping through the maps of the building they keep there and glancing at the lobby's access points. It's in her nature to be cautious, as well.
Upstairs, in his office, Jack Harkness is putting the last of a stack of papers he'd rather not be the one dealing with into order, before he piles them into a folio and goes to meet the man who's just arrived. He's got a lot of questions, and Where the hell were you? is only one of many.
As he starts down the hall, he's really not sure if this is a sign of things in Chicago looking up, or things in Chicago heading down.
Then, it's Chicago. There's no reason to assume it isn't both.
They're interruptable, if you'd like to talk to them, and Elashte's expression, at least, is self-assured and even inviting. Jack looks a bit more like he swallowed a live eel. Surprise visits from the local political powers have just rarely ended well for him.
This, thinks the demon who just strode into the Kashtta Tower like he owned the place, is likely the City's way of welcoming him back.
Elashte called from the airport when he got into town, after a truly impressive series of flight delays due to weather. True, this isn't generally how things are done, especially not when one is visiting an old... partner, and especially not when bringing a foreign dignitary to meet said old partner, but it's always been in Elashte's nature to be cautious, and he dislikes telegraphing his activities before he has a sense of his surroundings. He's not naive enough to think that Chicago hasn't changed, in the months he's been gone.
The foreign dignitary in question, a 5'2" woman with a wary, calculating air, has made herself at home by the at-the-moment-empty reception desk, idly flipping through the maps of the building they keep there and glancing at the lobby's access points. It's in her nature to be cautious, as well.
Upstairs, in his office, Jack Harkness is putting the last of a stack of papers he'd rather not be the one dealing with into order, before he piles them into a folio and goes to meet the man who's just arrived. He's got a lot of questions, and Where the hell were you? is only one of many.
As he starts down the hall, he's really not sure if this is a sign of things in Chicago looking up, or things in Chicago heading down.
Then, it's Chicago. There's no reason to assume it isn't both.
They're interruptable, if you'd like to talk to them, and Elashte's expression, at least, is self-assured and even inviting. Jack looks a bit more like he swallowed a live eel. Surprise visits from the local political powers have just rarely ended well for him.