[Action/Written]

[selfhelp]

[Billy has never thought of himself as one of those obsessive stalker boyfriends who needs to be attached at the hip to his significant other at all times. Really, he'd always figured they were pretty good about mutual space. A two-month separation with the potential of spending years in this place without seeing Teddy again is, however, apparently the trigger he'd needed to become one, so after one too many looks from Teddy - some patient, others not so much - he'd officially gotten himself banished from the apartment for the afternoon after too much worried lurking. Which is... not the greatest thing ever on a hot day like today, but ten minutes down the road he realizes that, yeah, he'd been a little ridiculous, either blowing off his responsibilities or dragging Teddy along for the ride. He's happy and eager to have Teddy here, but they'd lived separate lives at least half the time back home; no reason for that to not continue here as well.

It's just hard to let go after you've missed someone for that long.

Still, that's how he finds himself out and about for around five hours today, doing the following (in no particular order):

- a late lunch at Seventh Heaven
- searching around the library for comic books
- combat practice in the Battle Dome (with or without his trusty new teacher)

While at the library, a few sketches find their way into his journal, more or less like the following: this, this, and this. Some time afterwards, a scribbled message appears below.]

What are some good ways to deal with bad dreams?

[Once he's finished all his daily stuff, he'll be bringing groceries home around dinner time, in the hopes that he's allowed. Feel free to run into him at any time.]

Comments

[Voice]

[selfhelp]

Heh, thanks, I appreciate it. Maybe someday I'll retire the cape and become a real artist.

[Voice]

[kineticcajun]

Or you could keep the cape an' jus' be that really weird artist guy wit' the cape. Might wanna add in a beret if you go that route, can't go wrong there.

[Stupid joking: the answer to all life's problems. Sort of. Except not at all.]

[Voice]

[selfhelp]

Oh yeah, sounds brilliant. I'll be the crazy Jewish-French Super-Artist. From New York.

[Hang on a second-]

...Actually, being from New York would pretty much explain everything.

[Voice]

[kineticcajun]

See? All works out. Jus' throw in the New York part an' nobody'll t'ink twice about it. Or jus' visit N'awlins, nobody'll t'ink twice there either.

[He knows a guy who says cards talk to him, after all. Some guy in a cape and a beret is normal in comparison.]

[Voice]

[selfhelp]

I'll try to remember that for home, then. Though from what I've heard about this place, it's pretty unlikely.