Here Comes the Rain Again [ closed ]

[oversight]

Who: John Blake & Co.
When: Post event #17 - Epulum
Where: Free Cities
What: Following the celebration-turned-investigation, Blake returns to the Free Cities to find Norman Jayden is missing. While presumed to have been sent home, Blake doesn't find himself entirely convinced, especially with the change in weather...
Warnings: N/A

Comments

[restingstitchface]

"Well, I could say I lost your invite, but lying hardly suits me."

Crane imagines other people would be surprised to find Blake on their doorstep. In which case, they would hardly know the man. Persistant. Tenacious. More intelligent than people credit. Were Gotham policed by more like him, perhaps the streets would be safe at night. Not that they are safe during the day. Nor are the police all which make Gotham what it is.

He does not mirror that bland attempt at affability or humour. His face is emotionless as he steps aside, one hand holding the door. Perhaps he simply dislikes house parties?

"Though some people are such utter bores that lying becomes a chore. Come on in."

[oversight]

It almost feels like a real conversation, this exchange in the doorway. Whether they're both on their best behavior, just good at hiding their relative feelings, or simply making progress, it hardly matters for this. Blake doesn't want to fight. Maybe Crane won't want to, either.

"Thanks," he says, simply. The dust clings to him, itching at his skin in ways that he's had trouble resolving. He's unsettled, agitated within his own coffin of flesh. It's tempting to hide away in the Horizon, imagine away his worries and pain, but that would be far too easy, and no less painful in the end, only protracting the experience.

"It's nice." There's a sincerity involved, the kind that can't be ignored. As a kid who got tossed around the foster care system, there's a sense of pride and accomplishment tied to the idea of a place of your own. He can't disrespect that.

With no additional pretext, he passes over a note retrieved from his pocket. Unfolded, it reveals Jayden's handwriting. He explains that in the event of his disappearance from Abraxas, his things should be taken into Blake (and Hilda's) possession to be dealt with as deemed appropriate. There's no mention of Crane, but Blake is here regardless.

[restingstitchface]

Pride. Accomplishment. Humans ascribe importance to private dwellings. People of all ages imbue furniture and frames with significance, believing ownership makes them important, that posessions awards them success. To some those possessions are physical: the rich display their sculptures, the poor their china. Blake understands why people need to feel valued. But does he understand why he finds value in the metaphysical?

He found neither pride or accomplishment in creating a space of his own. Were he to visit a therapist, he knows they would believe what he found was freedom. The freedom to choose his clothes. To choose the colours on his wall. To decide on the company he keeps. But people have no freedom to choose any of that and he is not arrogant enough to believe himself the exception. One's clothes are dictated by their position in society. Colours by emotional connotations. Company can range from work colleagues to rivals. He cannot say he chose to enjoy Rachel's company.

"Nice hardly matters." Crane takes the note and unfolds it while standing. "Nearly not so much as loneliness for most people." He looks at Blake, clearly including him in that statement. He still hasn't directed them into anything resembling a living room.

[oversight]

It's true enough that nice hardly matters when you're lonely as fuck. Blake's place back home is tidy and more than sufficient. It reaches levels he never expected to reach when he was a kid, a height of success that's worlds away from what a poor orphan in Gotham can imagine for himself. But he barely spends time there because it's only for him and aside from being a refuge, it's not much else. Not a home. Not without someone to come home to.

"Sorry this is the reason for it." There's not a single edge to his words as he leans on the obvious. It's presented with no strings except the tether to Blake's own remorse. He can't hate anyone, and there is a deep empathy that drives him. Seeing Crane suffer only adds to the bad feelings he has. He doesn't relish in it like some people might. (At least not on this day.) "But I'll come back another time."