(no subject)
Brad doesn't mind the snow but, sometimes, it's just better to be out of it.
He's always had a soft spot for the Hub; it's the place that he first met Terry, after all. The decor's changed a bit (he's gotten used to living in a storybook) but the feel of the place is still the same. It's an undeniable pleasure to strip off the layers that he's been wearing out in the weather, down to his t-shirts and sit down at a table with a drink.
Honestly, he's been staying away from comics since he met Terry. He used to read a lot of superhero comics back home; there's an entire room in his house pretty much given over to straight boxes but being engaged to Siryn? Sort of takes the shine off that sort of thing. It doesn't hurt that there's no comic book store to frequent and that the bookshelf can be capricious at best. What he gets something that's worth having, Brad holds onto it. There's a high shelf in his treehouse that's full of sci-fi novels and classics, military writing and trade paperbacks. He rereads the things that he loves. He still hasn't managed to get all of the way through Don Quixiote.
Today, though, Brad feels like giving comic books another try.
He's steered away from Marvel altogether, so he's ended up with an issue of Transmetropolitan on the table in front of him. It couldn't be more far removed from his life now, but there's something oddly homey about Spider Jersusalem; Brad might joke about liberal dicksucks that seem to be the majority of the population in California, but he's always been sure that it's better that the alternative. And there's something about Spider, rangy and foul mouthed and fucking ugly as he is that always reminds Brad of Ray Person.
He doesn't look up until he realises that he's in need of another drink.
He sets the comic down and stretches both arms over his head before he turns towards the bar.
ooc: timed to a couple of hours before Quorra's debut!
He's always had a soft spot for the Hub; it's the place that he first met Terry, after all. The decor's changed a bit (he's gotten used to living in a storybook) but the feel of the place is still the same. It's an undeniable pleasure to strip off the layers that he's been wearing out in the weather, down to his t-shirts and sit down at a table with a drink.
Honestly, he's been staying away from comics since he met Terry. He used to read a lot of superhero comics back home; there's an entire room in his house pretty much given over to straight boxes but being engaged to Siryn? Sort of takes the shine off that sort of thing. It doesn't hurt that there's no comic book store to frequent and that the bookshelf can be capricious at best. What he gets something that's worth having, Brad holds onto it. There's a high shelf in his treehouse that's full of sci-fi novels and classics, military writing and trade paperbacks. He rereads the things that he loves. He still hasn't managed to get all of the way through Don Quixiote.
Today, though, Brad feels like giving comic books another try.
He's steered away from Marvel altogether, so he's ended up with an issue of Transmetropolitan on the table in front of him. It couldn't be more far removed from his life now, but there's something oddly homey about Spider Jersusalem; Brad might joke about liberal dicksucks that seem to be the majority of the population in California, but he's always been sure that it's better that the alternative. And there's something about Spider, rangy and foul mouthed and fucking ugly as he is that always reminds Brad of Ray Person.
He doesn't look up until he realises that he's in need of another drink.
He sets the comic down and stretches both arms over his head before he turns towards the bar.
ooc: timed to a couple of hours before Quorra's debut!