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alternate_ds_c6dTitle: Rising Sun
Fandom: due South
Characters/Pairings: Benton Fraser, Ray Vecchio, Ray Kowalski, Dief, Welsh, Elaine. Eventual Fraser/Kowalski.
Rating: PG for now (language)
Length: 2142 words and 3 pieces of art in this teaser
Summary: This is a due South AU with supernatural elements thatmizface and hazelwho have been cooking up for the last few months. Fic and art.
Notes: What we're posting today is a couple thousand words from near the beginning of the fic where Fraser arrives in Chicago and meets Ray Vecchio, and three sketches of Ray Kowalski in his shop.
Fraser stopped at the front desk and asked about meeting Lieutenant Welsh. Dief continued towards the desks in the back. Fraser assumed from the lack of startled exclamations that Dief was keeping himself hidden, a decision no doubt made more out of a recognition that stealth would make stealing baked goods from the desks easier than any impulse to keep things simple for Fraser. Not that he even needed to eat, let alone consume anything as nutritionally empty as a donut, but there was no reasoning with his spirit guide on this particular issue. Dief fell back into step behind Fraser when he reached Welsh's office, licking his chops and looking far too smug.
His knock at the Lieutenant’s door was answered with a gruff, “Come in.”
Fraser stepped inside, moving slowly so Dief would have a chance to come in as well, hopefully without it being too obvious he was holding the door for his spirit guide. He took the time to survey the room; it was small, and contained hundreds of files in tall stacks and some boxes, along with well-worn furniture. But despite the overwhelming amount of paperwork, everything felt tidy and organized. Dief barely looked around before settling at Fraser’s feet.
Fraser nodded respectfully as he introduced himself. "Lieutenant, I'm Constable Benton Fraser of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police. I've come to Chicago on the trail of a killer of an Inuit tribesman, and I would very much appreciate the Chicago Police Department's leave to pursue the murder in your jurisdiction."
Welsh leaned back in his chair and stared at Fraser for a long moment. "That's all, Constable?” he asked, eyebrow raised. “You don’t think I need any details about how you know the killer is here, or want to ask for the formal assistance of the CPD?"
Fraser couldn't lie to the Lieutenant, but didn't think he would consider the scrying that had led him to Chicago a solid investigation technique. "My source is confidential, but, I assure you, very reliable.” He hesitated a moment, trying to find the best way to go on. “While I am certain the Chicago Police Department is made up of excellent officers, in this case I am unsure what assistance they would be able to give."
To Fraser’s surprise, Welsh nodded. "You're right about that, Constable. Even without the details, I can see you don't need the CPD on this one. You need the DPC."
Fraser blinked, confused. "I'm sorry, the what?"
"DPC. Department of Preternatural Crimes." Welsh leaned forward and lowered his voice. "Your kind may be rare, especially this far south, but that doesn’t mean I’m not going to recognize a vampire when I see one.” He sat back again. “Now, the fact that you haven’t even tried to glamour me makes me think you’re on the up and up, even if you’re being extremely vague with the details about a murder you don’t think cops can help solve. So, I’m inclined to help you, but not let you go out on your own. That means working with the DPC."
It took Fraser an embarrassingly long time to recover his ability to speak. "You know what I am?” he was finally able to ask.
"Relax, Constable. It's my gift, being able to see what really is. Even with only ever reading about your kind, there was no mistaking a vampire and his guide when they entered my office. Speaking of, were you planning on introducing me to your friend?"
"This is Diefenbaker," Fraser said automatically, still flabbergasted by the Lieutenant’s knowledge of his true nature. Dief, on the other hand, seemed to take it in stride; he leaned forward and sniffed the hand Welsh held out. Apparently approving, Dief gave the Lieutenant a couple of licks and then settled back down onto the floor. Welsh made a face as he dried his hand on his pant leg. "Upon reflection, I imagine that will please me."
The smug look Dief gave Fraser was annoying enough to shake him out of his shock. "Sir, may I ask about this DPC you mentioned?"
"There is a sizable supernatural community in the greater Chicago area. Most are centered in one area of the city. As I happen to be aware of its existence, and since this area falls within the jurisdiction of my precinct, the 2-7 houses the DPC, a highly specialized, very discreet unit dealing with crimes that fall…outside the realm of usual police work. This is not our first rodeo, Constable, and I expect the DPC will be more helpful than you could have imagined in finding your murderer. Walk with me, both of you; I have just the man for the job as your liaison." Welsh opened the door and bellowed, "Detective Vecchio!" before heading toward the corner desk.
As Fraser followed, he overheard a number of the other officers making snide remarks about the detective in question and the quality of cases he usually ended up with. While most were spoken quietly enough that human hearing wouldn’t pick up on them, others were obviously meant for him to hear. The Lieutenant had indicated the DPC was a secret even within the station, so Fraser was inclined to dismiss their opinions about the detective and his cases.
Vecchio appeared to be in his 30s, balding slightly but with sharp green eyes. He was dressed in a soft gray suit and there was a nice brown coat slung over the back of his chair. He had a wary and somewhat put-upon look on his face as he watched Welsh draw near. When they were within a few feet of him, Vecchio's eyes widened as he looked over at Fraser, and he gave a small shudder. Fraser gave his most reassuring smile, and the detective pulled himself together.
"Ray Vecchio," he said, offering his right hand.
"Benton Fraser, RCMP," Fraser countered, shaking hands.
"Detective, the Constable here is looking for a killer. You're going to help him."
"Yessir."
Welsh fixed Fraser with a look. “And you are going to keep Detective Vecchio in the loop and utilize his help. I don’t tolerate vigilantes.”
“Understood,” Fraser replied.
Welsh walked away, nodding to himself.
"Detective Vecchio—"
"Ray,” he interrupted. “Call me Ray. Okay, so where do we start?"
"The person we are looking for murdered an Inuit man, a highly respected tribal elder and an old friend of mine. I have traced the killer to Chicago."
"You have anything more specific than 'Chicago'?"
Fraser tugged at his collar.
Ray sighed, like he was disappointed, but not surprised at Fraser’s lack of information. "All right, no problem. I've got an idea where we can start."
"Oh really?"
"Yeah." Ray glanced around the bullpen. "I'll tell you about it in the car. Let's go."
Fraser followed Ray out to a large, green American car. Fraser opened the passenger door and Dief appeared in the back seat; it didn't seem like Ray could see him. Ray started the car and headed south.
“Where are we going?”
"If there's weird shit happening, odds are it's going down in the Bumper District. We'll cruise around down there and see what we can see."
"Bumper district?"
"Yeah, like Chinatown or Koreatown, but for Bumpers. You know, Bumpers?" Ray put on a spooky voice, "Things that go bump in the night?" He slanted a look at Fraser. “That is why you were assigned to me, right? Because no way would the Lieu have stuck you with me if it didn’t have to do with Bumpers."
Fraser nodded, unsure what to say.
Vecchio gave him a smile that was half-grimace. “Yeah, I figured as much. Weird cases always go to me. You've never been to Chicago before?”
Fraser shook his head. “No, and I have to admit, it’s nothing like I expected it to be.”
Ray laughed. “You don’t know the half of it. I’ll give you the nickel tour.”
Fraser listened eagerly as Ray pointed out landmarks and highlights as they cruised through the Bumper District, a little overwhelmed at the idea that not only was his true identity immediately apparent to some police officers, but that there were others like him around, and an entire supernatural community in the city. He had always thought being what he was automatically made for a solitary existence, living in secret, performing his duty, and not letting anyone close enough to discover his true self.
"That's the neighborhood bar. The tailor's. A tinker shop. I ask you, who still goes to them?" Fraser didn’t reply, even though he could tell from symbols on the signage that the tinker/repair shop was really a metalmancer's.
"Up here you've got Kowalski’s, closed of course. That place is closed every other day, for some hokey religious thing or a rock concert or who the hell knows what reason. Over there is the florist-slash-herbalist's shop. The pet groomers – don't ask, Fraser, just don't. Up that way are a couple of mom and pop grocers, where mom and pop aren't quite human, and a two-screen theater that shows monster movies on Saturday nights, if you can believe it. The place on the corner does Thai take-away. That's my favorite spot for gathering intel. And up here is Elaine's. You hungry?” He pulled the car into the tiny lot next to what was apparently a diner before Fraser could even answer. “Let's get lunch. We can eat, talk, get to know each other better. Maybe you’ll even tell me about this case I’m supposed to help with."
***
Given his substantially slower metabolism, Fraser didn't eat often and rarely felt hunger, but he was happy to sit with a cup of tea and watch Ray eat a sandwich. He looked around the diner and was both relieved and concerned that he couldn't immediately tell if any of the other patrons were supernatural creatures. The only one he had his suspicions about was the woman behind the counter - she had put down a bowl of water for Dief. Perhaps Fraser’s nature wasn't as obvious as Welsh had made it seem.
"Ray, how did you and the Lieutenant know I was-" he leaned in a whispered – "a protector?" At Ray's blank look, he added the word Welsh had used for him. "A vampire?"
“A what?” Ray choked on his turkey club. Once he’d recovered, he stared at Fraser, like he was trying to see if he’d been joking. Fraser flashed a tiny bit of fang, and Ray jumped back, startled, then glared over Fraser’s shoulder. Ray’s outburst had attracted some attention. "What, a guy can’t eat with his friend without you all being nosy?” he challenged, and everyone went back to eating. Fraser was pleased to see that while Ray didn’t look completely at ease, he didn’t look like he was afraid of Fraser either. “Jeez, Fraser, I had no idea! And even if I had, you don't just say stuff like that. Welsh, he can tell. But me, I just get a feeling. Like goosebumps, or all the hair on the back of my neck sticking up. Just enough to tip me off there's more going on than I can see on the surface." He took a long drink of water. “So I knew there was something off about you, yeah, but not, you know, that.”
Fraser nodded. "That is reassuring. I'm not sure how people would react if my… identity were common knowledge. Still, I find it very strange that a place like this exists. It goes against everything I've ever been taught, years of conditioning."
"And yet you blurted it out to a near stranger,” Ray said, rolling his eyes. "I don't know how they do things where you're from, but you can't just go around telling people what you are, or asking what they are. It's not polite to ask, and it's not smart to tell. Knowing what you are means knowing your vulnerabilities, and you can't put yourself in a position where people can take advantage of you. Capice?" He ate the last bite of his sandwich, then looked at Fraser. “You ready to head out?”
“I thought we were going to talk.”
“Yeah, that was before you tried to give me a goddamn heart attack.” He stood up, drew his wallet and threw a couple of bills on the table. “Now I think we really need to talk, but not here. That work for you?”
“I would feel better talking somewhere more private,” Fraser admitted. “This is all very unexpected.”
“Private I can do. Just promise me you’ll stay away from my neck.”
Fraser was pleased to hear a teasing note in Ray’s words. “Your virtue is safe with me,” he replied, all innocence.
Ray started to respond, then shut his mouth, glared at Fraser, and started toward the door. “You coming or what?”
***
Sketch 1 - this is, I think, the first sketch I did of RayK for this 'verse. I love the idea of him behind the counter, and so I went with it.
Sketch 2 - for the teaser, I wanted to just focus in on RayK, rather than the shop as a whole. Plus, this way I could hint at a couple of his tattoos. I love the expression on his face in this one.
Sketch 3 - "final" sketch, at least for the teaser. I might go back later and rework this in pencil.
Artist note: I use pens when I sketch sometimes because I find I do a lot freer work than with pencils. I think it's because I can't erase what I've done, so I commit differently, and do a lot less overthinking.
And for the rest, you'll have to wait until June. ;)
Fandom: due South
Characters/Pairings: Benton Fraser, Ray Vecchio, Ray Kowalski, Dief, Welsh, Elaine. Eventual Fraser/Kowalski.
Rating: PG for now (language)
Length: 2142 words and 3 pieces of art in this teaser
Summary: This is a due South AU with supernatural elements that
mizface and hazelwho have been cooking up for the last few months. Fic and art.Notes: What we're posting today is a couple thousand words from near the beginning of the fic where Fraser arrives in Chicago and meets Ray Vecchio, and three sketches of Ray Kowalski in his shop.
Fraser stopped at the front desk and asked about meeting Lieutenant Welsh. Dief continued towards the desks in the back. Fraser assumed from the lack of startled exclamations that Dief was keeping himself hidden, a decision no doubt made more out of a recognition that stealth would make stealing baked goods from the desks easier than any impulse to keep things simple for Fraser. Not that he even needed to eat, let alone consume anything as nutritionally empty as a donut, but there was no reasoning with his spirit guide on this particular issue. Dief fell back into step behind Fraser when he reached Welsh's office, licking his chops and looking far too smug.
His knock at the Lieutenant’s door was answered with a gruff, “Come in.”
Fraser stepped inside, moving slowly so Dief would have a chance to come in as well, hopefully without it being too obvious he was holding the door for his spirit guide. He took the time to survey the room; it was small, and contained hundreds of files in tall stacks and some boxes, along with well-worn furniture. But despite the overwhelming amount of paperwork, everything felt tidy and organized. Dief barely looked around before settling at Fraser’s feet.
Fraser nodded respectfully as he introduced himself. "Lieutenant, I'm Constable Benton Fraser of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police. I've come to Chicago on the trail of a killer of an Inuit tribesman, and I would very much appreciate the Chicago Police Department's leave to pursue the murder in your jurisdiction."
Welsh leaned back in his chair and stared at Fraser for a long moment. "That's all, Constable?” he asked, eyebrow raised. “You don’t think I need any details about how you know the killer is here, or want to ask for the formal assistance of the CPD?"
Fraser couldn't lie to the Lieutenant, but didn't think he would consider the scrying that had led him to Chicago a solid investigation technique. "My source is confidential, but, I assure you, very reliable.” He hesitated a moment, trying to find the best way to go on. “While I am certain the Chicago Police Department is made up of excellent officers, in this case I am unsure what assistance they would be able to give."
To Fraser’s surprise, Welsh nodded. "You're right about that, Constable. Even without the details, I can see you don't need the CPD on this one. You need the DPC."
Fraser blinked, confused. "I'm sorry, the what?"
"DPC. Department of Preternatural Crimes." Welsh leaned forward and lowered his voice. "Your kind may be rare, especially this far south, but that doesn’t mean I’m not going to recognize a vampire when I see one.” He sat back again. “Now, the fact that you haven’t even tried to glamour me makes me think you’re on the up and up, even if you’re being extremely vague with the details about a murder you don’t think cops can help solve. So, I’m inclined to help you, but not let you go out on your own. That means working with the DPC."
It took Fraser an embarrassingly long time to recover his ability to speak. "You know what I am?” he was finally able to ask.
"Relax, Constable. It's my gift, being able to see what really is. Even with only ever reading about your kind, there was no mistaking a vampire and his guide when they entered my office. Speaking of, were you planning on introducing me to your friend?"
"This is Diefenbaker," Fraser said automatically, still flabbergasted by the Lieutenant’s knowledge of his true nature. Dief, on the other hand, seemed to take it in stride; he leaned forward and sniffed the hand Welsh held out. Apparently approving, Dief gave the Lieutenant a couple of licks and then settled back down onto the floor. Welsh made a face as he dried his hand on his pant leg. "Upon reflection, I imagine that will please me."
The smug look Dief gave Fraser was annoying enough to shake him out of his shock. "Sir, may I ask about this DPC you mentioned?"
"There is a sizable supernatural community in the greater Chicago area. Most are centered in one area of the city. As I happen to be aware of its existence, and since this area falls within the jurisdiction of my precinct, the 2-7 houses the DPC, a highly specialized, very discreet unit dealing with crimes that fall…outside the realm of usual police work. This is not our first rodeo, Constable, and I expect the DPC will be more helpful than you could have imagined in finding your murderer. Walk with me, both of you; I have just the man for the job as your liaison." Welsh opened the door and bellowed, "Detective Vecchio!" before heading toward the corner desk.
As Fraser followed, he overheard a number of the other officers making snide remarks about the detective in question and the quality of cases he usually ended up with. While most were spoken quietly enough that human hearing wouldn’t pick up on them, others were obviously meant for him to hear. The Lieutenant had indicated the DPC was a secret even within the station, so Fraser was inclined to dismiss their opinions about the detective and his cases.
Vecchio appeared to be in his 30s, balding slightly but with sharp green eyes. He was dressed in a soft gray suit and there was a nice brown coat slung over the back of his chair. He had a wary and somewhat put-upon look on his face as he watched Welsh draw near. When they were within a few feet of him, Vecchio's eyes widened as he looked over at Fraser, and he gave a small shudder. Fraser gave his most reassuring smile, and the detective pulled himself together.
"Ray Vecchio," he said, offering his right hand.
"Benton Fraser, RCMP," Fraser countered, shaking hands.
"Detective, the Constable here is looking for a killer. You're going to help him."
"Yessir."
Welsh fixed Fraser with a look. “And you are going to keep Detective Vecchio in the loop and utilize his help. I don’t tolerate vigilantes.”
“Understood,” Fraser replied.
Welsh walked away, nodding to himself.
"Detective Vecchio—"
"Ray,” he interrupted. “Call me Ray. Okay, so where do we start?"
"The person we are looking for murdered an Inuit man, a highly respected tribal elder and an old friend of mine. I have traced the killer to Chicago."
"You have anything more specific than 'Chicago'?"
Fraser tugged at his collar.
Ray sighed, like he was disappointed, but not surprised at Fraser’s lack of information. "All right, no problem. I've got an idea where we can start."
"Oh really?"
"Yeah." Ray glanced around the bullpen. "I'll tell you about it in the car. Let's go."
Fraser followed Ray out to a large, green American car. Fraser opened the passenger door and Dief appeared in the back seat; it didn't seem like Ray could see him. Ray started the car and headed south.
“Where are we going?”
"If there's weird shit happening, odds are it's going down in the Bumper District. We'll cruise around down there and see what we can see."
"Bumper district?"
"Yeah, like Chinatown or Koreatown, but for Bumpers. You know, Bumpers?" Ray put on a spooky voice, "Things that go bump in the night?" He slanted a look at Fraser. “That is why you were assigned to me, right? Because no way would the Lieu have stuck you with me if it didn’t have to do with Bumpers."
Fraser nodded, unsure what to say.
Vecchio gave him a smile that was half-grimace. “Yeah, I figured as much. Weird cases always go to me. You've never been to Chicago before?”
Fraser shook his head. “No, and I have to admit, it’s nothing like I expected it to be.”
Ray laughed. “You don’t know the half of it. I’ll give you the nickel tour.”
Fraser listened eagerly as Ray pointed out landmarks and highlights as they cruised through the Bumper District, a little overwhelmed at the idea that not only was his true identity immediately apparent to some police officers, but that there were others like him around, and an entire supernatural community in the city. He had always thought being what he was automatically made for a solitary existence, living in secret, performing his duty, and not letting anyone close enough to discover his true self.
"That's the neighborhood bar. The tailor's. A tinker shop. I ask you, who still goes to them?" Fraser didn’t reply, even though he could tell from symbols on the signage that the tinker/repair shop was really a metalmancer's.
"Up here you've got Kowalski’s, closed of course. That place is closed every other day, for some hokey religious thing or a rock concert or who the hell knows what reason. Over there is the florist-slash-herbalist's shop. The pet groomers – don't ask, Fraser, just don't. Up that way are a couple of mom and pop grocers, where mom and pop aren't quite human, and a two-screen theater that shows monster movies on Saturday nights, if you can believe it. The place on the corner does Thai take-away. That's my favorite spot for gathering intel. And up here is Elaine's. You hungry?” He pulled the car into the tiny lot next to what was apparently a diner before Fraser could even answer. “Let's get lunch. We can eat, talk, get to know each other better. Maybe you’ll even tell me about this case I’m supposed to help with."
Given his substantially slower metabolism, Fraser didn't eat often and rarely felt hunger, but he was happy to sit with a cup of tea and watch Ray eat a sandwich. He looked around the diner and was both relieved and concerned that he couldn't immediately tell if any of the other patrons were supernatural creatures. The only one he had his suspicions about was the woman behind the counter - she had put down a bowl of water for Dief. Perhaps Fraser’s nature wasn't as obvious as Welsh had made it seem.
"Ray, how did you and the Lieutenant know I was-" he leaned in a whispered – "a protector?" At Ray's blank look, he added the word Welsh had used for him. "A vampire?"
“A what?” Ray choked on his turkey club. Once he’d recovered, he stared at Fraser, like he was trying to see if he’d been joking. Fraser flashed a tiny bit of fang, and Ray jumped back, startled, then glared over Fraser’s shoulder. Ray’s outburst had attracted some attention. "What, a guy can’t eat with his friend without you all being nosy?” he challenged, and everyone went back to eating. Fraser was pleased to see that while Ray didn’t look completely at ease, he didn’t look like he was afraid of Fraser either. “Jeez, Fraser, I had no idea! And even if I had, you don't just say stuff like that. Welsh, he can tell. But me, I just get a feeling. Like goosebumps, or all the hair on the back of my neck sticking up. Just enough to tip me off there's more going on than I can see on the surface." He took a long drink of water. “So I knew there was something off about you, yeah, but not, you know, that.”
Fraser nodded. "That is reassuring. I'm not sure how people would react if my… identity were common knowledge. Still, I find it very strange that a place like this exists. It goes against everything I've ever been taught, years of conditioning."
"And yet you blurted it out to a near stranger,” Ray said, rolling his eyes. "I don't know how they do things where you're from, but you can't just go around telling people what you are, or asking what they are. It's not polite to ask, and it's not smart to tell. Knowing what you are means knowing your vulnerabilities, and you can't put yourself in a position where people can take advantage of you. Capice?" He ate the last bite of his sandwich, then looked at Fraser. “You ready to head out?”
“I thought we were going to talk.”
“Yeah, that was before you tried to give me a goddamn heart attack.” He stood up, drew his wallet and threw a couple of bills on the table. “Now I think we really need to talk, but not here. That work for you?”
“I would feel better talking somewhere more private,” Fraser admitted. “This is all very unexpected.”
“Private I can do. Just promise me you’ll stay away from my neck.”
Fraser was pleased to hear a teasing note in Ray’s words. “Your virtue is safe with me,” he replied, all innocence.
Ray started to respond, then shut his mouth, glared at Fraser, and started toward the door. “You coming or what?”
Sketch 1 - this is, I think, the first sketch I did of RayK for this 'verse. I love the idea of him behind the counter, and so I went with it.
Sketch 2 - for the teaser, I wanted to just focus in on RayK, rather than the shop as a whole. Plus, this way I could hint at a couple of his tattoos. I love the expression on his face in this one.
Sketch 3 - "final" sketch, at least for the teaser. I might go back later and rework this in pencil.
Artist note: I use pens when I sketch sometimes because I find I do a lot freer work than with pencils. I think it's because I can't erase what I've done, so I commit differently, and do a lot less overthinking.
And for the rest, you'll have to wait until June. ;)
(no subject)
Date: 2013-04-15 04:38 am (UTC)Striking art for RayK...I especially <3 the tattoos.
(no subject)
Date: 2013-04-15 04:02 pm (UTC)I especially <3 the tattoos
I'm SHOCKED, Ride! =)
(no subject)
Date: 2013-04-15 09:20 pm (UTC)And of course I adore your icon there, too. Oh Ray's ink!
(no subject)
Date: 2013-04-16 01:33 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2013-04-16 03:49 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2013-04-15 11:46 am (UTC)Very much looking forward to meeting Ray K, the metalmancer - he looks like a good 'un if that art is anything to go on.
♥ you both!
(no subject)
Date: 2013-04-15 04:03 pm (UTC)Nice try, but RayK's not the metalmancer. He's...something else entirely. *is terribly mysterious*
(no subject)
Date: 2013-04-15 04:11 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2013-04-16 01:34 am (UTC)And it's even better when his shirt is off completely (which maybe I've also drawn to be posted later lalalalala)
(no subject)
Date: 2013-04-16 07:45 pm (UTC)The good kind, obviously.
(no subject)
Date: 2013-04-15 02:50 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2013-04-15 04:05 pm (UTC)Her sketches are amazing! The very best things about working in this verse - some days there are random Miz!sketches in my inbox. =D
(no subject)
Date: 2013-04-15 04:08 pm (UTC)miz!art sounds like the BEST way to start a day ;)
(no subject)
Date: 2013-04-16 01:37 am (UTC)I haven't seen th eperson you referenced, but will check them out. As much as I love working with pencils, it really puts me n a more careful mindset than I want sometimes, especially when I'm just trying to figure out something about a sketch. Glad I'm not the only one!
(no subject)
Date: 2013-04-15 09:15 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2013-04-16 01:39 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2013-04-16 04:57 pm (UTC)And I love the sketches, too! A cup of coffee, of course. And now I'm wondering what he's reading.
(no subject)
Date: 2013-04-17 03:56 am (UTC)Excellent deductive reasoning. =)
Of course a cup of coffee! *pets Ray*
(no subject)
Date: 2013-04-16 08:45 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2013-04-17 03:59 am (UTC)