Work Text:
The place that Illinois had chosen to sit down wasn’t the best. Air stale with cigarette smoke, a dim yellow lighting that barely rendered the black ink he was writing with visible. It was a good thing he didn’t need to see, really, when it came to this letter. He had more than enough experience writing in damp, pitch black caves. Plus, it meant the other shady patrons couldn’t see him as well. His hat’s brim was lowered over his face anyways. As he always said to everyone he met, one could never be too careful.
After glancing around one last time, and idly taking a sip of his water as he did so, he started writing. Careful not to let any blood seep from his bandaged arm, though he did grit his teeth from the pain. It was one he was used to, along with the rest of his achy, beat up body. Jumping out of a moving car while shielding a stone statue tended to have this effect.
‘Good day Sea and Sky,
I hope you’re doing well. I know I am, now that I’m getting to write this letter to you.’
He paused, head tilting to the right as he heard a creaking sound. Nonchalantly, he snaked his free hand down to his waist. Hovering just near his whip, and more importantly at the moment, his gun. All as he reclined back in the booth, a carefully crafted calm facade in place as he continued to write. The vibes he got told him it wasn’t just the hustle and bustle of the place that had produced that particular creak on the wooden floor.
‘As you can probably guess, I’ve been bouncing between some countries, instead of just staying in the one I went to initially. But this time, I did stay in Europe! So if you two were betting, whoever put their faith in me wins.’
The sounds of the wood creaking were picking up, and he saw a face pass him out of the corner of his eye. Luckiest man alive, he’s called, yet he sure as hell had shit luck when it came to just being. He recognized the face of one of the men he had been going toe to toe with not even a week earlier, and he had the new added scar atop a dozen others to prove it. At least the knife hadn’t marred his face. He would’ve done more then just leave that man hanging from one foot in a tree if that were the case.
‘Let’s see. I’m trying to be more communicative like you both asked. I got what I was after! It’s the most gorgeous statue you’d ever see, and yes, I know I say that about almost everyone of them. I’m going to be dropping it back off where it belongs in a small town, that I’ll tell you the name of later. But after that, I should be back home, and I can show you pictures from my trip. I have a lot of beautiful nature shots, and one in particularly of a possum stealing my food that I think you’ll love. I also have been more careful, so I should be all good to go and do whatever you both want when I’m home, too. After I give you your gifts, of course.’
The man passed by again, and Illinois could tell the second the man made up his mind to make a move. His slowing down, the way he tried to move behind another patron of the bar. Blowing smoke to add to the haze obscuring the place. Maybe it would’ve worked, if he didn’t already know.
‘I also have more exciting news. I actually made a friend! I’ll invite him over for you both to meet sometime. I’m sure you’ll find him very familiar. His name also starts with an I. Ends with an s, too. It’s… well, it’s something, but I’m sure you both will like him. I'll tell you more when I help you both move.‘
Pausing one last time, he sighed heavily as he debated how to sign off. Would it be too rude to put sincerely, even if it protected them? Would it be too much to put he loved them, when maybe they don’t miss him as much? They were the only two in the world Illinois could faithfully count on not being attracted to him, to not be in love with him. Nonetheless there was a strong platonic love there. One he cherished more than anything.
Carefully, just as the man made his move, and Illinois was lifting his gun up and at him, he wrote.
‘Yours truly,
Illinois James’