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Sep. 25th, 2016 05:54 pmHe's relieved to be home, for a given value of home anyway.
This version of Darrow doesn't have officers who throw him in a prison cell for the slightest and most ridiculous infraction. This version of Darrow has the streets he's come to know, it has the job that pays him well, it has the people he may or may not admit to actually liking. Dublin would be preferable in every context of the word, but if he has to be in Darrow, this is the version in which he'd rather stay.
Upon arriving back to his flat after being broken out of prison by that strange girl, Philip had showered, downed two shots of whiskey, and he'd gone straight to bed. He'd slept for a good length of time, then gone out to get food before coming home and letting himself relax in the dark until Todd Chad's people had called him and asked him to come into work. He'd gone, worked, done his duty, received his pay, returned home where he'd gotten a little drunk and fallen into a dead, black sleep.
He'd repeated this for several days until he'd finally felt up to going out.
Freshly showered and shaven, he's well dressed in a pair of narrow grey trousers and a black shirt, far more fitting with the modern styles than what he'd arrived in. He's always been an adaptable man and now he looks as if he belongs in this city, in this time, not as if he'd walked straight out of the thirties. It works for him.
Then again, most things do.
With his cigarettes and lighter in one pocket, despite the fact that he can't smoke inside, he goes to a club he's come to favour. The music is loud, but not obnoxiously so, and he's met his fair share of men and women within these walls. When he walks in, someone waves and smiles, and he waves back, but continues toward the bar where there's a whiskey already waiting for him.
Then he turns and faces the teeming mass of people. It's busy tonight. He isn't looking for anyone in particular, but he is looking for someone.
This version of Darrow doesn't have officers who throw him in a prison cell for the slightest and most ridiculous infraction. This version of Darrow has the streets he's come to know, it has the job that pays him well, it has the people he may or may not admit to actually liking. Dublin would be preferable in every context of the word, but if he has to be in Darrow, this is the version in which he'd rather stay.
Upon arriving back to his flat after being broken out of prison by that strange girl, Philip had showered, downed two shots of whiskey, and he'd gone straight to bed. He'd slept for a good length of time, then gone out to get food before coming home and letting himself relax in the dark until Todd Chad's people had called him and asked him to come into work. He'd gone, worked, done his duty, received his pay, returned home where he'd gotten a little drunk and fallen into a dead, black sleep.
He'd repeated this for several days until he'd finally felt up to going out.
Freshly showered and shaven, he's well dressed in a pair of narrow grey trousers and a black shirt, far more fitting with the modern styles than what he'd arrived in. He's always been an adaptable man and now he looks as if he belongs in this city, in this time, not as if he'd walked straight out of the thirties. It works for him.
Then again, most things do.
With his cigarettes and lighter in one pocket, despite the fact that he can't smoke inside, he goes to a club he's come to favour. The music is loud, but not obnoxiously so, and he's met his fair share of men and women within these walls. When he walks in, someone waves and smiles, and he waves back, but continues toward the bar where there's a whiskey already waiting for him.
Then he turns and faces the teeming mass of people. It's busy tonight. He isn't looking for anyone in particular, but he is looking for someone.
