Jonathan Crane (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
restingstitchface) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
abraxaslogs2024-09-30 06:03 am
restingstitchface) wrote in abraxaslogs2024-09-30 06:03 am
I shouldn't be so curious
Who: Garrus and Crane
When: October
Where: Libertas
What: Two truths and a lie
Warnings: None
[Libertas is but one portal away. Months ago, Crane had left Cadens behind, welcoming the solitude, the privacy and honestly the secrecy. His work had caught the eye of a wealthy benefactor, possessed of more money than sense, who had bankrolled a residence from which he could run his practice. Now money is less of an issue and his mind is free to theorise.
But what is there to wonder about Garrus? He is polite when the man arrives at his door, civil but not warm. Come inside. Take a seat. Have a drink. His mind swats away the idea to set another man on fire and guides him to his desk. He stands in front and waits for his guest to choose a chair: one of several arranged in a circle.]
Well, let's get started, shall we?
[Behind him, a bookcase filled ceiling to floor. Upon the desk are notes, papers, journals all arranged in orderly piles. His office is a comfortable but sterile space. Everything is related to his work. Nothing is related to his personality. There are no photographs, no personal touches. Nothing a detective can read from.]
When: October
Where: Libertas
What: Two truths and a lie
Warnings: None
[Libertas is but one portal away. Months ago, Crane had left Cadens behind, welcoming the solitude, the privacy and honestly the secrecy. His work had caught the eye of a wealthy benefactor, possessed of more money than sense, who had bankrolled a residence from which he could run his practice. Now money is less of an issue and his mind is free to theorise.
But what is there to wonder about Garrus? He is polite when the man arrives at his door, civil but not warm. Come inside. Take a seat. Have a drink. His mind swats away the idea to set another man on fire and guides him to his desk. He stands in front and waits for his guest to choose a chair: one of several arranged in a circle.]
Well, let's get started, shall we?
[Behind him, a bookcase filled ceiling to floor. Upon the desk are notes, papers, journals all arranged in orderly piles. His office is a comfortable but sterile space. Everything is related to his work. Nothing is related to his personality. There are no photographs, no personal touches. Nothing a detective can read from.]