(no subject)
It's not something he's ever going to get used to. It's been too many years. It's been his whole life. How do you rewrite a book? The cape and cowl now belong to another. They belong to someone he trusts, someone he's trained. Someone he'd give his life for. The suit however does not make the man. The suit is merely a reflection of what lies beneath. Strip it all away and what remains is still The Great Detective. While the body fails, the mind persists. He wasn't meant to be behind this desk.
The channel is open. He can hear Alex and Val making their way across the rooftops. The sound of the wind roars through the microphone. They're surprising quiet tonight. Most nights are spent wading through their familiar expressions and sexual innuendo. He makes a mental note to speak with Alex.
He doesn't do the desk like most people. Movement is his natural state of being. With his ears solely on the sounds emanating from the speakers, he shifts positions on the parallel bars. One hand on each bar to two hands on one. Turn. Swing down. Adjust the legs to miss colliding. Return to a handstand. Again. And again. Release. Catch. Return to a handst---
The arm buckles. He falls sideways, smacking his thigh on the second bar. It doesn't do anything to lessen the impact. A last second twist of his torso absorbs some of the shock. He lets the mat do the rest. He lies there for a moment, listening to the sound of the amplified wind.
The body fails.
The channel is open. He can hear Alex and Val making their way across the rooftops. The sound of the wind roars through the microphone. They're surprising quiet tonight. Most nights are spent wading through their familiar expressions and sexual innuendo. He makes a mental note to speak with Alex.
He doesn't do the desk like most people. Movement is his natural state of being. With his ears solely on the sounds emanating from the speakers, he shifts positions on the parallel bars. One hand on each bar to two hands on one. Turn. Swing down. Adjust the legs to miss colliding. Return to a handstand. Again. And again. Release. Catch. Return to a handst---
The arm buckles. He falls sideways, smacking his thigh on the second bar. It doesn't do anything to lessen the impact. A last second twist of his torso absorbs some of the shock. He lets the mat do the rest. He lies there for a moment, listening to the sound of the amplified wind.
The body fails.