bone canis [closed]

[lottawork]

His fingers skim the length of his laptop, tracing its edges as he watches the text on the monitor, promoting some sort of entry-level job access tutorial, blur into parallel streaks. Irritating as he had found ROMAC on principle, it had at least been a useful inlet into the Rift's center of activity with a conveniently, moderately high salary.

Thus far, he has found Manhattan's job market to be comparatively disappointing.

The laptop snaps shut in an abrupt, frustrated jerk of motion, prefacing the inevitable downward arch of Rush's shoulders as he buries his face in his hands and breathes out, worn and protracted. He is tired, or he is reasonably certain he is tired - the other potential explanations for the excess of mental fatigue seem unlikely, as he is relatively sure he would remember being drunk and he is equally unlikely to be experiencing some dissociative episode apropos of nothing and, clearly, it has been a sufficient amount of time since he has last slept as he cannot remember the time he last slept, which serves as an adequate proof of assumption in his mind.

Rush shuts his eyes and tries to recover some sort of celerity or clarity of thought.

Comments

[wildmage_daine]

She probably should have texted him or somesuch, but then he might've said 'no.'

Daine hasn't seen much of Rush lately, but she checked up on him a few times when he was still recovering from his capture, and a quick look in on his apartment a day or so ago had confirmed that not much had changed. Walls a mess, little in the way of furniture or sleep or (presumably) fridge contents. No great surprise, there. He doesn't seem to take very good care of himself, and she suspects he'd balk if he thought anyone was trying to take care of him.

Well, that's what friends are for - her friends, specifically. She's never been above sending a willing animal to do a harmless job she knew she couldn't manage on her own, and Manhattan isn't suffering a shortage of willing animals. She figures her current volunteer ought to be fair perfect.

She gives the dog's head an encouraging pat as she walks him toward Rush's apartment building. He's a big, calm, older fellow, and she's given him as good an understanding of Rush as she can and a very clear understanding of what he's to do, presuming Rush allows it. Really, 'Rush allowing it' is the only obstacle. It's just a matter of how big an obstacle it turns out to be.

She probably should have texted him. Oh, well. Daine pulls in a breath, then buzzes Rush's apartment.