Check-up

[evillurks]

The Shadow has been splitting his time between the Sanctum and the apartment of James Rettigue, but only one of these locations is a place for guests. The coffee table is a solid mass of paperwork, although there are signs of order in the form of stacks. The furniture is sleek and black, modern even for its time. One wall of the living room is dominated by a tall picture window that overlooks the city, but the curtains are half drawn. From the kitchen the scent of fresh coffee drifts, but The Shadow is not used to entertaining. The spartan feel to the place, broken only by his paperwork, does not give a welcoming feel.

Comments

[sarah-branigan.livejournal.com]

"Get him to quit, too. It's bad for everyone." She sighs, a little frustrated. "I always knew it was bad, but I had no idea how bad until I started reading modern medical literature. I've been trying to start an anti-smoking campaign. Perhaps without a huge tobacco company lobbying against me, I'll have better luck."

She smiles shyly. "I flew myself. I was a swan." That's probably not the answer the Shadow was expecting. Or looking forward to. Oh, well. "I still dream about it. Is it hard to fly a plane? It must be hard." All those gauges and switches... it was so simple to spread her wings and do what came naturally.

[evillurks.livejournal.com]

"It wouldn't hurt him to quit younger..." The Cranston of his own time is not doing well at all, although even at ten years younger he's lived a full life. "And good luck. The kids find things other than tobacco to kill themselves with, here."

That she's been a bird was the last answer he expected, but he takes it with expressionless calm, reminding himself of the LOLs of which he has yet to experience one. "That sounds like a fascinating experience. Airplanes vary in difficulty. As time goes by they get more and more complicated, but safer, too. There's something to be said for an open cockpit, though." He looks briefly nostalgic. They don't build them like they used to, out of wood and painted canvas and badly leaking oil that streams onto the goggles of the pilot exposed to the wind. There are good reasons, of course, that they don't build them that way anymore. He'd be hard-pressed to figure out the workings of a jet or a modern commercial airliner, though.

[sarah-branigan.livejournal.com]

"We have those, too," Sarah replies. "The Strangers were kind enough to provide us with fuel for all our vices."

"It was wonderful," she sighs, her expression unfocusing for a moment. "Just... lifting my arms -- well, my wings, I mean -- and pushing into the air, feeling the wind rushing past me..." Perhaps the Shadow might understand, a little bit, since he is nostalgic for open cockpit flying.

She looks at her watch. "Oh, shoot. I have to go back home and feed the kitten. Did you have any other questions about your diagnosis?"

[evillurks.livejournal.com]

He winces slightly, out of sympathy, concerned for the youth of her city now. Perhaps they could use a black-clad avenger around to destroy the drug rings and put fear into the criminals and teenagers. Likely John wouldn't appreciate The Shadow's methods of going about it.

"It sounds... mm. I think all pilots dream about that." There is a trace of wistfulness about his smile, but he stands with a nod, offering a businesslike handshake. "No, thank you, I think I'll manage. I can't promise to avoid aggravating the condition, though. Thank you, and... congratulations." The ring on her left hand has not escaped his notice, and he's sure it wasn't there the last time he saw her, back before his escapades tracing the drug ring.

[sarah-branigan.livejournal.com]

John would most definitely not appreciate a vigilante in his city, even if it was to break up drug rings (because, really, if John wanted to, he could simply will all the drugs out of existence.)

"Really? LOLs aren't something to wish for, but I wouldn't mind that one again." She returns his handshake, professional and courteous, but then he offers his congratulations. "Oh... oh, thank you." She simply cannot contain her happiness, her expression glowing. "Take care of yourself, Shadow." She'll go ahead and PINpoint out before she says anything silly.

[evillurks.livejournal.com]

The Shadow will simply have to content himself with dispensing justice in every other city he can get his hands into.

"I haven't been, yet, and I'm not looking forward to it." The Shadow gives a shrug, resigned to the idea that he is due for an LOL eventually. His handshake is solid and carefully gentle, the of a man without the least worry of arthritis. "Likewise." He lets her go and steps back so she may PINpoint away. He's perfectly glad to see her go without gushing about her engagement, which may be why he waited to mention it until she was about to leave. He's just as glad to go back to his work, now.