send a postcard to all of your family friends and take the wind away

[gilboanprince]

Jack has been laying low for a while, sticking close to the Conrad, researching this world whenever he's not drinking, smoking, or attempting to sleep. It's gotten to the point where he's feeling more than a bit stir-crazy, and today, he has decided to test his working knowledge of Chicago with an outing. All on his own

Comments

[prince_stupid]

Would he object to a melancholy, beat-up looking King of Cats?

Ragnar limps along the sidewalk, his thoughts clearly not on where he is or where he's going. He doesn't even notice Jack as he moves to pass him.

"...should not stray so far, in any case. What if he attempts to leave, to move about on his own? He is yet unwell."

[gilboanprince]

Not even Jack is quite self-absorbed enough to miss the fact that something is wrong; he falls into step beside Raganr and attempts to look like he isn't accompanying and speaking to a cat.

"Is there something the matter, Your Highness? Maybe there's something I can do to help."

[prince_stupid]

Ragnar blinks up at Jack. When he collects himself enough to speak, it's in an atypically ironic tone.

"Unless you can raise the dead, I very much doubt it, my friend."

He stops, ignoring the human he almost trips. The cat looks extremely tired.

[gilboanprince]

Jack blinks and takes a moment. When he answers, the words are slow and carefully measured: "Unfortunately not one of my talents."

He takes another moment to think over what to say next, and then -- rather typically -- blurts out the first thing that pops to mind.

"What happened?"

[andwhosearmy]

How about company in the form of local authorities, Jack? Though this local authority is pretty innocuous, all things considered.

It's Casey's day off today, though the posters that have been going around the city kind of give her the impression it's not going to be a quiet day. But it's not so bad so far. It's a nice day out, a little bit cloudy, not quite windy enough for Casey's taste, and now she's sitting at a sidewalk cafe, watching passersby.

She can't help wondering which ones are angels and demons, which might be wanderers or CLF... and that never used to bother her quite so much a year ago. But it's never been a matter of very nearly outright war among the people she's supposed to protect. Lost in thought, she just might be staring a bit too intently at Jack.

[gilboanprince]

Jack's still got decent enough instincts to notice when someone is watching him. He checks out Casey as casually as he can manage to.

He's seen the posters too.

They don't exactly make him feel safe.

Casey carries herself like police, and that doesn't exactly make him feel safe either. But she's not dressed like a cop, and she's just sitting there, so he takes a chance and waves at her. Might as well try not to act suspicious, after all.

[andwhosearmy]

The smile shakes her out of whatever line of thought she'd been pursuing. She shakes her head a little, and smiles back. "Sorry, I didn't mean to... stare. I promise it had virtually nothing to do with you, if that's reassuring at all."

[gilboanprince]

"'Virtually'? Well...I'll take it." He contemplates his choices, then says, "I guess everyone has a lot on their minds, these days."

[teenytinyteme]

Chance's been on the streets for quite some time now. She's managed to get by (barely, in certain cases,) but she has survived.

She's lonely, though. Lonely as fuck. She can't seem to find any one she's 'befriended', and yeah, she still doesn't really know where in the city she is.

Also, she's looking for her next meal.

So up she comes to this guy, who seems fairly safe--he doesn't look like he would rape her on the spot, which is good. She tugs on his sleeve.

"Hey mister, got a quarter?"

[gilboanprince]

Jack has a pocketful of loose change he's acquired from various sources -- don't ask -- and he's sort of a sucker for pathetic, so he fumbles some out. He takes a moment to try to remember which one is a 'quarter', then just puts the whole assortment in Chance's hands. It's easier, and she looks like she could use it.

She looks like she could use a friend, he thinks, and to be honest so could he, so he asks, "Are you okay?"

Which is totally lame, and the answer seems rather obvious, but he's trying.

[teenytinyteme]

Chance stares at all the change in her hands. Usually people just tell her to fuck off (which she was half-expecting when she asked him,) and maybe the kinder people give her a dime or a couple of pennies, but this? Whole handfuls of change?

She swallows hard as she looks at it. No one's been this nice to her since... well. Probably mostly ever. At least since second grade.

"Thank you," she says, stuttering just a little. And then he asks her a question--a QUESTION, is she okay, like he actually CARES!

"Uh, I'm, you know, I'm fine," she lies. Because she's not fine. She misses home, she misses her mommy and her bed, she's been on the streets for a ridiculously long time, she probably looks like shit and smells like piss and the inside of dumpsters, and all she wants is to go back right now. But she can't go back and she can't do anything and oh god now she's going to cry. She sniffs, hard, and tries to swallow around the lump in her throat. She will not cry, she will not cry.

[gilboanprince]

Oh, shit. Jack has (had?) a sister (not going to think of Michelle), he recognizes the signs of an oncoming meltdown. And he's never been any good at fixing that.

Don't take the look of panic on his face personally, Chance.

"Oh, shit, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to -- please don't be upset?" He is completely aware of what a stupid request that is, but he doesn't know how to deal with crying girls. Or potentially-crying girls, for that matter.