tyler_gone: (meditating)
Tyler said goodbye to Estella.

Then he went home, eyes down, head full of a mass of thoughts that kept turning into cement and burying themselves in his stomach. he didn't want to be a father. He could only hope somewhere, somehow, Estella would turn out all right.

He grabbed some scotch and headed to Tony's place to talk about absolutely nothing of consequence for a few hours. Now it was the next morning, and he was lying awake on sheets that probably cost more than his rent, and the thoughts were back and turning his stomach to cement again.

Maybe if he didn't move, he'd fall back asleep.
tyler_gone: (at desk)
Tyler wasn't making much progress on his lesson plan for the week; he had gotten dragooned into a tea party with a very demanding five-year-old.

Anyone who looked in his office door for much of the morning would find the anarchist leader of Fight Club sitting cross-legged on the floor, wearing a construction paper hat decorated with wilting flowers and sipping Kool-aid from a paper cup.

"Keep your pinkie out, Daddy," Estella commanded, giggling.

Daddy obeyed.

[OOC: Open office door to visit Tyler or Estella, or to crash the tea party.]
tyler_gone: (Just my luck)
Tyler was (surprise) awake early the morning after prom, and, when he stepped onto the porch with his coffee, he noticed the back yard was starting to look like a science experiment in how many weeds could be grown in how small a space. Feeling the need to actually do something about it, he yanked on some old clothes and set to work gardening.

[OOC: For ... me, please. Apologies for spamming your f'lists.]


tyler_gone: (Default)
Tyler Durden

April 2015

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