Work Text:
Sometime before August 2016
Larry’s apartment
Larry burst through the door, nary a thought to lock it, and swooned happily onto the couch. Oh Cindy! Beauty and brains! He could listen to her philosophise for hours! He’d found his soul mate! She would listen to him talk about sculpture; he would listen to her telling him how much of a muscle head Plato was. They could both laugh about the chicken man gag. Ancient Greeks sure had a sense of humour huh! And oh, she was a model. She could be his muse if she wanted!
No no don’t rush it. That’s what scared off Sarah three years ago. It has to be her idea. Modelling is her job, it might not be her passion. See Nick, the Butz can learn!
Still, that didn’t stop her from being an inspiration! Larry smiled muzzily at the ceiling. What can he make for such an intelligent lady?
August 3rd, 2016
Larry’s apartment
The lock clicked firmly shut. Leaning down Larry wedged a rubber door stopper under his front door before flinging himself onto his couch for a good old cry.
Why did Cindy have to die? Was she really cheating on him? He quietly thanked Nick for his attempts at comfort. At least he knew she liked the clock. He couldn’t not give the other away after that. Like, really man, it’d just remind him of everything that happened! He couldn’t keep it! And that Mia lady seemed like a thinking sort of lady, unlike the living disaster area that was Nick, so of course he was gonna give it to her! He’ll find something for Nick eventually. Maybe make him a phoenix clock! Yeah! Perfect idea! It’s his name! Oh Oh! He needs to think of a cheesy line for it say when declaring the time!
But it won’t bring Cindy back. Larry reached for the tissue box. He needed to get this out of his system! He was the cheerful wacky friend!
September 9th, 2016
Larry’s studio
As soon as Larry got back to his studio, door shut and locked with a door stopper too, he sat down. Limbs sprawled recklessly as he stared up at the roof. It was a shed really. But he had what he needed for metalworking here.
It all felt so cold now.
Mia Fey was dead, her killer in jail. But who made the weapon? Who made the weapon that killed Cindy Stone? Is the gunsmith guilty of what the gun is used to do? He slid onto his back and started crying quietly. With no one to pester with his emotions he simply wept.
He may have laid there for an hour.
Stop it Larry. You’re the happy go lucky friend! You made funky clocks. Clocks aren’t meant to be weapons like a gun! Anything that heavy at that size could have been used to do that!
Well then. He’d just never make something so portable and heavy again!
He wiped his eyes and looked at his works in progress and the currently cold furnace and rolled up his sleeves. The phoenix is consigned to the fire before long. Larry suppresses a half-hearted snort. How thematic. But he couldn’t risk Nick being killed with it. He’ll come up with something else, he’s sure. No more sculptures.
The Butz can learn. He just needs to learn a new trade this time.