dirk_gently: (phone drink cig)
Answering the phone for Maddie’s place is a cushy job, and it’s not raising Dirk’s opinion of his former secretary. Of course, Maddie’s business doesn’t get many calls from irate old ladies wanting to know why they’re being billed several hundred pounds for things like ‘realignment of causal stability’ when Dirk still hasn’t found their lost cat. Most of the calls have to do with opening and closing hours, whether they accept personal checks, the address, and other mundane questions, although she may have lost one customer when Dirk tried to engage them in conversation about the greater butterfly effect in their home dimension as dictated by what drinks people order on any given night. For the most part he’s doing the job well, and happy to work ‘overtime’. He has a chair, and a couple of scientific journals he’s borrowed from Doctor Octavius, and at the end of the day he’s got a bed to go sleep in without the risk of a mad dryad in the neighborhood.
He’ll actually sit and answer the phone until someone relieves him of the duty, comfortably rooted to the spot. One would expect he’d want more mental and social stimulation, but he seems very content just sitting in one spot. It’s possible the lack of exercise and sunlight isn’t a good thing, because he’s today he’s not looking entirely well. His skin has been developing a slightly darker grayish cast to it, when he does move his joints creak softly, and until the phone rings he tends to sit so perfectly still that anyone passing by might feel compelled to check to make sure he’s still breathing.
dirk_gently: (Impending Doom)
Dirk strenuously denies he has any kind of psychic powers, but in his heart he has to admit that his senses do seem to go beyond those of anyone else he knows in his own world. What bothers him most is the way the ability always creeps up and smacks him in the face when he least expects it. When he truly focuses, actually tries to reach deep down for that sixth, seventh, eight, maybe even ninth sense*, he’s rewarded with a resounding hollow nothing. It’s the offhand comments, the meaningless babble and patter that ends up coming back to haunt him, turning out to be prophecy so startlingly accurate it cannot be denied. On the other hand his sense of premonition has saved him from harm more than once. Read more... )

*After careful analysis, Dirk’s already categorized and counted his extra senses, and a last check put him up to at least eight.
dirk_gently: (vices)
Dirk's starting to wear down a barstool, still a regular visitor even though Hippolyta's gone. He's not about to turn down an open bar tab to infinity, although he suspects it'll still come around to bite him in the ass some day. He's waiting, inhaling the cigarette smoke in the atmosphere. This isn't technically a date, but he's looking forward to drinks with a woman a decade younger...
dirk_gently: (schrodinger's cat)
True to his word, Dirk's house now has a front wall. It could use another layer of paint and the shabby excuse for a garden out front has been utterly trampled. At least it was only full of weeds.
Dirk is sitting on the front step with a cigarette, and looks pretty much the same as he always does. The shirt and tie clash glaringly, and he hasn't lost any weight. The front door is slightly ajar, and the temperature and humidity here are probably more pleasant than in much of the U.S. at the moment.


dirk_gently: (Default)

April 2015

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