TM 228: 3 AM
Put your makeup on, fix your hair up pretty, and I'll meet you tonight in Atlantic City. . . - Bruce Springsteen
Henry was pretty sure this was the kind of story that ended up in obituaries:
Hellrung, once beloved as TV's Iron Man, managed to keep his demons at bay, until that fateful night when he found himself standing on Atlantic City's Steel Pier, staring at the giant billboard for the big-budget movie in which he had not been cast.
He could hear the voice ver in his head. Hell, during his lean years, he had done those voiceovers. He tried it out loud now. "Hellrung, once beloved as TV's Iron Man. . ."
God, that billboard was damn ugly. "Screw you, Stark," Henry mumbled. He reached into his coat pocket and took out the bottle of Bushmills. He hadn't opened it yet, but he'd been fondling it. Still, wouldn't do to get started before the lady got here. Lorna Dane would be determined to make some kind of scene and save him from himself, and it wouldn't be fair if he was half gone by the time she got here.
He didn't give a goddamn about the stupid Iron Man movie.
Except that reporters kept calling him for comments, starting rumors about why he wasn't at the premiere, and Henry wasn't allowed to say that it was because two of his people were dead, and he'd been stripped of his powers, and he knew that next time he talked to Tony Stark, Tony was going to offer him a chance to rejoin the Initiative. And Henry knew he was going to take it -- assuming he hadn't decided to drink himself to death, first.
3 a.m. in front of the Steel Pier ferris wheel in the bleakest excuse for a resort city in these United States.
Still, at least, he was out of California.
That was something.
3 a.m.
Henry waited.
OOC - RP post locked to erikscordelia.
Henry was pretty sure this was the kind of story that ended up in obituaries:
Hellrung, once beloved as TV's Iron Man, managed to keep his demons at bay, until that fateful night when he found himself standing on Atlantic City's Steel Pier, staring at the giant billboard for the big-budget movie in which he had not been cast.
He could hear the voice ver in his head. Hell, during his lean years, he had done those voiceovers. He tried it out loud now. "Hellrung, once beloved as TV's Iron Man. . ."
God, that billboard was damn ugly. "Screw you, Stark," Henry mumbled. He reached into his coat pocket and took out the bottle of Bushmills. He hadn't opened it yet, but he'd been fondling it. Still, wouldn't do to get started before the lady got here. Lorna Dane would be determined to make some kind of scene and save him from himself, and it wouldn't be fair if he was half gone by the time she got here.
He didn't give a goddamn about the stupid Iron Man movie.
Except that reporters kept calling him for comments, starting rumors about why he wasn't at the premiere, and Henry wasn't allowed to say that it was because two of his people were dead, and he'd been stripped of his powers, and he knew that next time he talked to Tony Stark, Tony was going to offer him a chance to rejoin the Initiative. And Henry knew he was going to take it -- assuming he hadn't decided to drink himself to death, first.
3 a.m. in front of the Steel Pier ferris wheel in the bleakest excuse for a resort city in these United States.
Still, at least, he was out of California.
That was something.
3 a.m.
Henry waited.
OOC - RP post locked to erikscordelia.