milliways_bar | (no subject)

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jack driscoll

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One of the most aggravating things in the world is fixing your sleeping schedule. This, alas, is the sad story of mun's life at the mo, wanting to go to sleep but not for the sake of seeing the sun. So she's throwing Jack in with the hyperactive coffee icon because she'd really, really, really like a cuppa right about now.

Jack, being a smart boy, is drinking coffee now, as well as a bowl of oatmeal. There's an uneaten apple sitting on his table top that he's not going to share with anyone, because he's stingy like that.

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A tall redhead wanders into the bar, looking like she just woke up herself. Kate orders a drink at the bar and then surveys the room, giving Jack a smile and nod when she catches his eye.

Oh joy of joys. Another pretty woman. In the back of his mind he hits himself with a hammer labelled "ANN," but it's hard to care when he and Ann went their seperate ways.

So he gives the redhead a smile.

Pretty, dangerous woman.

"I'd ask if you're new, but I'm never here enough to keep track of who is and who isn't." She hops off her stool, walks the short distance to his table and holds out a hand. "I'm Kate."

"Kate. I'm Jack." He shakes her hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

His smile is very appreciative.

"Likewise." She smiles back. "So, are you new here?"

"By three days. Please, sit." He gestures to an empty seat across from him.

"Thanks." And she does, setting her glass on the table, but well on her side. "Three days? I guess you've got the whole spiel on the place then, right?"

He nods. "No violence, no grudges, no...intimate encounters...I got the whole thing."

"All the fun things in life, yet it still manages to be interesting." She smirks. "Where abouts are you from?"

"New York City. 1933."

He's expecting this woman to be from a time a long ways after his.

She grins.

"Really? I'm from New York! Long Island." She loves New York. Can you tell? "And it's uh, damn I always forget... 1998? I think."

Bingo. He was right. Not as far off as others, but still a distance away from 1933.

"That's great. What's it like in New York? In 1998, I mean."

"Well, I don't live there anymore. I live in London now. England." Her grin fades a bit. "But last time I was there it was pretty much the same. Big, bold, bright. Loud. just like it should be."

"Why'd you move to London?"

"It was someplace new. I was in LA for a while and London seemed like the next best city to try to get something going in."

"I'm a musician." She explains.

"Oh," he says, now smiling widely. Another artist. Yays! "What kind of music do you perform?"

"It's called Rock." She smiles again. "I don't think you quite have it yet. But it's loud and heavy and with the right people, can be very beautiful, too."

"Is it anything like jazz?"

She thinks about that for a minute.

"In the beginning, probably. The way it is now... well, for me, anyway, not really. You a musician too?"

"No. I'm a writer."

"Yeah? What sorts of things do you write?" She's genuinely interested.

"Plays. I work for the Federal Theater."

"Theatre. I took an acting class when I first got out to LA. Didn't really work out." She shrugs, with a slight smile.

"You able to make a decent enough living from it?"

He nods. It was mostly because he worked for the Federal Theater. The times being as hard as they were, it was hard for an artist like himself to make a lot of money from the theater without being employed by the FTP.

"My friend, Carl, is also trying to pressure me into the filmmaking industry."

"Tough industry. Stopped being about the art a long time ago."

"What makes you say that?"

This wouldn't happen, he hoped, until a long time after 1933, but he was still interested to know the future of his craft.

"All they care about now is how much money they can make. Plot, character development things like that don't matter anymore. A few big explosions and you've got a hit."

"This wouldn't happen to do anything with the motion picture industry, would it?"

It sounded an awful lot like the influence of the cinema.

"Oh, well, yeah, that's what I meant. Movies and all. Theatre I think is still pretty repectable. Of course, that's a New York thing still."

He smiles. He was happy to hear that.

"I never cared for the cinema much, myself."

"I prefer the older movies myself. Some from your time, even." She sighs. "Nice to curl up and watch those sometimes. Forget about everything else for a while."

Some of the films from his time were good. Some, not all. You'd be surprised how many terrible films never made it to the age of restoration.

"The movies of your time must be very bad, then."

"Pretty much." She agrees with a laugh. "Mindless entertainment."

He smirks wryly. "Film had so much potential but the industry turned it into trash."

"Sad but true." She winks at him.

"You working on anything now?"

"Just a short story."

"Oh? Can I ask what it's about, or do you prefer to keep those things secret until it's done?"

"It's kind of personal." Though the smirk on his face says there's a humorous bent.

"Gotcha."

She scowls at her glass, that she hasn't touched. "I should be getting back home. Past dinnertime. But it was good to meet you. Maybe I'll see you around again."

"You will," he says, grinning. "Good day."

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