The Arms Hotel, Room 706, Friday morning

[willbethenight]

After giving one of the more important goodbyes - of a sort - last night, Bruce treated himself to a night on the town on the mainland. What exactly that meant, he wasn't about to say. He didn't spread rumors about his social life, after all. He just enabled the tabloid media to do so

Comments

[rilla_myrilla]

Rilla knocked on the door, followed immediately by a pounding a few feet lower than her knock.

Jims liked knocking.

"Bruce?"

[willbethenight]

"Just a moment," Bruce called out before cleaning his notes up. The food had already been put away, so that was the only bit of a mess at the moment.

And then he made his way over to the door, put on his friendliest smile, and opened it.

"Rilla. Jims, it's been years," Bruce said. Was he testing to see if a small child could understand parallel timelines moving at varied speeds? No, he was making a joke that, much like everything above his shins, was over Jims' head.

[rilla_myrilla]

Jims took one look at Bruce and turned into a human limpet, clinging tightly to Rilla's knees.

"Jims, I need to walk," Rilla said, frowning down at him. "Hello, Bruce. He's a little shy with people he doesn't remember. He'll warm up."

[willbethenight]

Bruce crouched down so that he was at least a little less giant to Jims. "I understand," Bruce said, looking up to Rilla. "I spend enough time around children Jims' age in my charity work. This is pretty typical."

He turned back to Jims. "My name is Bruce. Welcome to my... Well, not my home. But where I sleep, at the very least."