before you know it, it's gone and you're dead again
Dave is sitting in one of the Kashtta's lounges, grading quizzes.
This is what he's supposed to be doing, anyway.
What he's really doing is sitting there at the table he's commandeered, papers strewn across its surface-some marked up with red, some now-staring at the pen in his hand. He's having one of those I don't belong here moments that all ( Read more... )
This is what he's supposed to be doing, anyway.
What he's really doing is sitting there at the table he's commandeered, papers strewn across its surface-some marked up with red, some now-staring at the pen in his hand. He's having one of those I don't belong here moments that all ( Read more... )
At this point, it's more like a Week and Change, but she can't really do much about that at this point. What she can do, is find the people responsible for Josef and Elizabeth's death, and ... well, do a fair bit of drinking. Drinking is actually her activity of choice at the moment. She never drinks enough to get stupid, but she does like feeling pleasantly buzzed.
She's not there yet, but she's getting there when Ford walks into the Crowbar. She turns, glances over for all of a moment, before turning back to her drink again.
She hasn't decided whether or not he's interesting yet. She'll get back to you.
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He makes beeline for the bar, taking no notice of anyone who may or may not be looking at him, and doesn't turn around to survey the area until he's ordered a White Russian. It's a normal enough night for this place, he thinks. Ford wouldn't consider himself a regular just yet, but he has been coming here on a fairly regular basis lately.
Maybe after a few more visits.
He shrugs out of his jacket as he looks around, his gaze falling on Bela for all of three seconds before he directs his attention elsewhere.
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"You look like you're having as good a week as I am."
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It's worth nothing that he's a fairly convincing liar.
Yay, law school.
But there's something in that last bit-I got in the way-that's more emotional than the rest of it. Just a tiny, little something, if Bela's sensitive to those kinds of things. "At least you don't have any visible marks people feel compelled to comment on," he adds.
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"Somehow people always seem to notice, regardless of whether or not they're visible."
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"I guess some people are just perceptive," he muses into his glass. "Or nosy."
This is also a hint, but he won't be too disappointed if she doesn't take it.
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"But you can't say that nosy people don't get results."
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"That's very true," he concedes, then tilts his head. "So what results are you looking for, here?"
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This is also true.
"Though that won't necessarily prevent the conversation from slipping into the realm of small talk, anyway."
He grins, devious.
"How about this weather, huh?"
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"I think for Chicago, the weather has been rather favorable. Nothing too extreme as of yet."
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Honestly, though, Ford considers any amount of rain unacceptable. He's more than once thought about moving to southern California, but he changed his mind when he found out their winters are full of rain and mudslides.
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Personally, she thinks sunny skies all the time are unacceptable. It's almost as though the world is trying to taunt you.
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Ford isn't much of a traveler.
"Is the weather really that bad across the pond?"
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Snow and slush just put cramps in anyone's day, especially when you didn't possess the ability to burn it away.
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He chuckles. "Oh, dear. Have you been through a Chicago winter yet?"
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