Overcast. The sun was normally kissing the top of the Sears Tower by now, but today ('this morning' was more of an applicable term to be honest; it was barely 7 am) was different. The sky was a sickly milky orange colour and it was the first thing to catch Crowbar's eye when he looked up from his work. Yeah. Work. That's what it was. (It was.) Someone had come to him, shifty and scared, shoving a manilla folder into his arms before running off. This had been about three days ago. Maybe. He'd went on a bit of a bender and. Well. He was a bit of a night owl but 7 am wasn't a time he saw on any normal morning.
This wasn't a normal morning, evidently. Shuffling through maps and brief notes of a run he was wanted for lasted longer than he'd expected. Led to the cloudy sky.
He sat back and rubbed his eyes, ensconced by dark circles and hazed from booze. Glanced at his phone. Wasn't The Felt annual field trip coming to a close today? Or last night? He didn't remember. Heh. Heheh. It was funny, see. Back invested in all that business he'd actually have the specifics down to a goddamn T. Pointless details and everything.
Grabbing the phone he dialed the familiar number of probably the only person he'd ever hesitate to use the word 'friend' to define, holding it to his ear as he leaned back further in the chair. Covered his face. Where'd his bourbon go.
"C'mon, ya fuck," he groaned, fishing around in his pocket for his smokes. "Seven rings an' I stop carin', y'know that."
