(Untitled)

[flakygoodness]

Geoff pops into the bar with the requisite fresh-baked smell and sees more than a couple glum faces. He frowns a moment, until the inspiration takes over. He spins around, changing his outfit as he does. Now he's wearing a yellow jogging suit and what can only be described as a giant chocolate chip cookie on a gold chain around his neck

Comments

[gotham_knocking]

"Huh. Advertising. Now that's just cruel." Knox sits at the Bar, glad it was not his fate to sell anything today.

[flakygoodness]

Geoff smiles at the man and jumps off the table, his clothes reverting to his more natural dark blue shirt and trousers as he does so.

"Not at all," he says. "It just... seemed like the thing to do."

[gotham_knocking]

"It wasn't bad. Decent production values for amateur theater under the force of a spell. And you didn't ignite in flames, so that gets a thumbs up.

"Not that I'm a theater critic. Those guys want everything to be Eugene O'Neill." Knox extends his hand. "Alexander Knox, Gotham City, 1989."

[flakygoodness]

He sets the tray down on the bar to shake the offered hand.

"Geoff. Late the Roman god of biscuits. Care for a cinnamon bun? They're still warm."