milliways_bar | (no subject)

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[OOM: Mark goes to Life Support.]

Mark bikes into the bar, camera on his bike, and cellphone on his ear. "Adam, listen, I.... shit." Facepalming, he props the bike against the wall, removing the camera and shuffling off to Bar. He really could use a drink. He could probably use some conversation as well. Any takers?

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There is a Carl!

And while this annoucement should be made with trumpets and fanfair he's a bit grayfaced as he enters the bar wearing yes-

A hideous orange SCARF.

Pulling it off he frowns, spotting a familiar face.
"Kid?" Carl frowned, "What's the matter?"

Oh, look. Mark's wearing one too. A scarf that is. His used to be black and white, now it's just dingy and black.

"Oh, hey, Carl. Nice scarf." He shrugs, taking a long drink of his beer. "Um. It's just been really hellishly busy."

Busy? What does this kid know of busy?

Carl frowns, "What's going on?"

"Too much crap. I've had more interviews in the past week than I thought were possible. I've got three new films starting up in my production company, I don't think I've actually seen my roommate in about two weeks, and yeah." Mark sighs. "Sorry. I shouldn't dump things on you."

Carl's thinking.

He's an impulsive individual. It's not one of his strongpoints, but in this case, "....The burden of command." Carl pats the kid's shoulder, "...You taking a break?"

"I guess I am. Wasn't necissarily intending to come here, but it would seem that someone somewhere thinks I need one." He shrugs. "Like I said. It's been a long week."

"....Do you want to come to my house for dinner?"

Carl's impulsivity strikes again.

He glances around nervously, "....I told my wife I was bringing a big potential backer for the monkey to dinner but he fell through and now she says that she wants to have her mother drop by-" Carl frowned, "...there's little enough food as it is so if I offer to bring a friend-"

he lets it hang.

Please, don't make him beg.

"...That and-yanno-Millie's a good cook. You up for a good home-cooked meal?"

Mark blinks. "I don't think I haven't actually had a home-cooked meal in ages. My roommate can't cook for anything, and my girlfriend would rather go out." He cracks a smile. "I'd love to, if you're sure your wife won't mind."

There's a bit, just a bit of relief.

For carl that means practically slumping across the table.

"Great! Grab your coat and-"

He pauses.

"....listen." Carl's lips purse, "-I'm sure that you know New York's not a nice town right?" He eyes Mark seriously, "-The door that I use to get here is a couple of streets over from where I actually live so...I mean-just-be prepared okay?"

It's depression-era New York.

"I've lived in New York for years, don't worry." He stands, then realized what he's wearing. "Er, I should probably get something else to wear. I'll be right back." He goes off to the bar, getting a brown-paper-wrapped package, then going to the bathroom, then returning, wearing a suit and fedora, and notably, still his scarf. "How's this?" He grins.

Carl laughs, "Sorry kid-you look like this whiny studio exec that I used to do business with, but it's definately period. Bar can provide clothes to you?"

Mark facepalms. "Yeah it can. Just let Bar know what era clothing you need, and she'll get you what you need." He pauses, and turns a bit pink, shrugging.

Carl claps the kid on the back, "After you or me?"

And the door is Open (http://hollywdcockroch.livejournal.com/1160.html?mode=reply)

And in some branch of millitime where Mark's not going to dinner with Carl...
"Hey, stranger. Here's your book back."
Angel hands over the duct-taped wonder without further comment.

"Hey! Be careful with that! It's liable to fall apart." Mark's grinning, though. "So? Like it just as much the second time 'round?"

"Better, actually, now that I can laugh at it properly." Angel grins. "Didn't figure you'd mind too much if I borrowed it."

Mark grins right back. "'Course not. I loaned it to you in the first place, didn't I?" He shrugs. "I'm not worried that you'll wreck it. Maureen? She's a different story."

"And who's to say whether she'd quite appreciate it?"
And now, a subject change. "So would you happen to know anything about the drum set that found its way into my room yesterday?"

"She wouldn't appreciate it. I know that quite well." He pauses, then turns a bit pink. "Oh, that drum set." He's grinning.

Cue one overdramatic sigh. "How many times do I have to tell you you don't have to keep doing stuff for me?"
And then Angel glomps Mark. "Thanks, though."

Mark grins, a huge sparkle in his eyes. "I think you're gonna have to tell me at least once more." He glomps Angel right back. "Hey, I thought you could use it."

"Well, you were right, kind of - it's been years since I've had a decent shot at a proper set - but still."

Mark smirks. "Can't let you get out of practice, now that you have time." And needless to say, a friend who would fling money around for Angel.

"Well, I suppose sinc eyou insist, I'll just have to deal with it."
He's teasing.

Mark beams. "Hey. I learned from the best, you know."

Angel grins. "Well, I try."

Mark beams. "You do well." He shrugs, almost cuddling the book a bit. "It's been a long week, Angel."

"Seems like you're in better shape, in any case."

"Oh, I'm loads better than before, let me tell you." He smirks. "Oh, and I stunned Paul speechless."

Angel raises an eyebrow. "Did you, now?"

Grin. "Yeah. Gave him a check for a hundred thousand for Life Support, and the people in it." It's almost scary how off-hand Mark is about it.

"........Yeah, that'd do it."

Mark just grins, mischief in his eyes. "Hey, might as well do something with money that I have."

"Beats buying yourself a bunch of shit you don't need, I guess."

Mark shrugs. "I don't need stuff. Hell, where would I put it?" Ok, so he does have a building now, but that's not the point. He probably could use a new suit or two, but that's also not the point. "I might be attempting to make up lost time, when I couldn't do anything."

"I still don't think you really have to. I mean, you were there - that can do a lot by itself, sometimes."

"I know. But still. I've always wanted to do what I could. And now, I can, so I feel like I should." And he's still hoping, somewhere in there, that he can save the people he loves.

"Understandable."
All of it.

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