[Joe hasn't been in the kitchen this past week. In fact, he's been keeping to himself far more than usual and what conversations he has had have been with his brother. Each day, he finds himself in the gym, throwing himself into his old boxing regime from years ago and effectively beating the snot out of the punching bags on offer.

Knuckles bound, ( Read more... )

 [Too stubborn to stay in his room for the whole of his sudden sickness, Joe is sitting in the hall. He didn't make it far from his room before fatigue and breathing difficulty made him slump against the wall. He's not going anywhere any time soon.

The comm feed starts mid way through a rather horrible sounding cough. There's a groan, and then a ( Read more... )

 [Walking down the hallways and looking rather angry is Joe. His blood-soaked shirt is slung over his shoulder and the rest of him doesn't look much better. The blood is on his arms, his pants, his front and there's a bit on his face. His expression is one of rage and a half burned cigarette sits between his lips.

Without pause, he digs his comm ( Read more... )

 [Behind the bar of the restaurant 'Our House' sits Joe. Empty bottles and cigarette butts litter the floor around him, a build up of the past few days spent drowning his sorrows. He's long since stopped drinking, instead choosing to stare ahead at the cupboard in front of him.

The encounter with Moonie brought back a lot of memories that Joe had ( Read more... )