The Streets of LA, Saturday Night
Nov. 29th, 2014 05:43 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
gunslingerposeSo, Thanksgiving with Nikolai's family had gone fairly well. His mother had scolded him for vanishing for so long without saying anything, as was absolutely her right to do. Then he'd spent a little while dodging questions about whatever that mysterious sickness was that had left him with eyes so sensitive that he had to wear shades all the time. From there, there had been a lot of catching up to do, a lot of family to catch up with, his sister and his brother telling him all about the cousins and nieces and nephew and informing him that in no uncertain terms, he was going to have to hang out with the kids while he was here if he was planning on going back to that middle-of-nowhere town in Maryland again this week. Thursday had been busy, and while Friday hadn't exactly been slow either, full of quality time with his brother's kids, today was really Nikolai's first chance to have some time to himself since portalling clear across the country for the holiday.
Today had started with a visit to his much-neglected apartment, leading to the revelation that he was going to have to have someone come in just to clean up almost two years of dust. The place was nasty. But after giving his sheets a wash, at least his bed could be slept in, which meant he'd have somewhere to crash tonight. He had a shower, just for the sake of showering in his own damn apartment for the first time in a while, and then he'd called a few of his clients to tell them that he was in town, and to schedule a few meetings with them in person to discuss what directions they wanted to take their careers in the future. Supper had been a pit-stop at a hole in the wall diner that had been a guilty pleasure of his for years, and another hour was spent catching up with the waitress there who had practically mentored him in the ways of the ladies back when he was still an awkward little high school brat contemplating where the hell he wanted to go in life.
And then, all that aside, came the really important part. He'd been gone for a couple of years, but so far as Gorgon was concerned, he'd never been here before at all. And his sister had been complaining about gang activity near where she lived, courtesy of the South Seventeens. Drug activity entirely too close to home, getting bad enough that they were afraid to let the kids walk to school these days. Shit, when the hell had the neighborhood gone so far downhill? He couldn't remember it ever being great, but flipping through a newspaper at supper time had struck a nerve that was jangling even as he set out to spend an evening on the town.
A few thwarted muggings later, and a figure in a long black leather duster was moving across the rooftops at a superhuman pace, quietly wishing he'd brought his motorbike across the country with him, but thrilling in the ability to get out there and do something in the city he called home all the same. Nikolai could worry about everything from his family to his career to whether or not he even wanted to bother booking a portal home tomorrow.
Tonight, Gorgon was making his Los Angeles debut.
[NFB for distance, but open for phone calls or anyone who has any reason to be in Nikolai's LA. He'll be going the merry way of the expat from here, probably with the occasional pit-stop to the island for old time's sake.]
Today had started with a visit to his much-neglected apartment, leading to the revelation that he was going to have to have someone come in just to clean up almost two years of dust. The place was nasty. But after giving his sheets a wash, at least his bed could be slept in, which meant he'd have somewhere to crash tonight. He had a shower, just for the sake of showering in his own damn apartment for the first time in a while, and then he'd called a few of his clients to tell them that he was in town, and to schedule a few meetings with them in person to discuss what directions they wanted to take their careers in the future. Supper had been a pit-stop at a hole in the wall diner that had been a guilty pleasure of his for years, and another hour was spent catching up with the waitress there who had practically mentored him in the ways of the ladies back when he was still an awkward little high school brat contemplating where the hell he wanted to go in life.
And then, all that aside, came the really important part. He'd been gone for a couple of years, but so far as Gorgon was concerned, he'd never been here before at all. And his sister had been complaining about gang activity near where she lived, courtesy of the South Seventeens. Drug activity entirely too close to home, getting bad enough that they were afraid to let the kids walk to school these days. Shit, when the hell had the neighborhood gone so far downhill? He couldn't remember it ever being great, but flipping through a newspaper at supper time had struck a nerve that was jangling even as he set out to spend an evening on the town.
A few thwarted muggings later, and a figure in a long black leather duster was moving across the rooftops at a superhuman pace, quietly wishing he'd brought his motorbike across the country with him, but thrilling in the ability to get out there and do something in the city he called home all the same. Nikolai could worry about everything from his family to his career to whether or not he even wanted to bother booking a portal home tomorrow.
Tonight, Gorgon was making his Los Angeles debut.
[NFB for distance, but open for phone calls or anyone who has any reason to be in Nikolai's LA. He'll be going the merry way of the expat from here, probably with the occasional pit-stop to the island for old time's sake.]
no subject
Date: 2014-12-12 11:03 pm (UTC)There was a gap between buildings coming up. She leaped, somersaulting in the air and landing in a handspring. "I guess it's not so bad, though. Even when you can beat me for speed, there are still some tricks you can't match. So I'm not terribly obsolete!"