[open] I've found that just surviving was a noble fight

[reticence]

Faolan doesn't really have any particular agenda for the day. In between cases, no clients on the book for the afternoon, he finds himself with free time and well. He's never really much cared for the idea of such a thing. Mostly perhaps because he doesn't really know much what to do with himself when it happens. Not really having that many hobbies, not really much for staying idle, he finds himself wandering. Coffee at this shop, breakfast at another. Finding a seat to sit and enjoy both before wandering more. Idly staring in shop windows. Finding himself lunch. He supposes that this is time that people who had friends might call some of them up and get together to do something, but that would require having any, a luxury he had not been afforded. Not since moving to London, at least. Besides all of that, these last few days especially he's been feeling rather odd...

A. COFFEE
Being a man with a varying schedule, often pulling late-nights, Faolan has developed a particular affinity for coffee. Another man might call it a caffeine addiction, but that is perhaps neither here nor there, and anyway, he really only ever indulges in the coffee version of the drug. Which is why he finds himself seated in a shop early that morning, a mug of it clutched in both hands as he sits at the counter by the window and stares out the window at the passers-by. He might not have normally chosen this seat. There are occasions where he'd rather opt for a table by himself in the corner, where he can pull out his tablet and get some work done. But there's something about today where he feels compelled to watch. Feels compelled to sit there and observe, poised silent and still on the stool as he surveys the people on the street in front of him. There's a tension in the way he's holding himself, and if he didn't pause every once and a while to take a sip from the coffee, it would probably be a little painful to watch him at it. It's probably a little painful still.

He knows what he's doing, so after a while, he forces his eyes away. And that's when he spots it. A fly. It must have come in the shop with one of the other patrons. The place is nice and clean enough, he doesn't think that they're likely to have an infestation, especially since he's seen only the one. But now all of his attentions are focused on it, and try as hard as he might to just sit and enjoy his coffee, he can hear it. Buzzing around, doing its dirty fly business god knows where. He manages maybe five minutes of valiant efforts to keep his mind away, before he gives up and rolls up the paper he has sitting in front of him. That fly is dead.

B. PARK
Faolan sits on a bench in the park, nursing his second coffee of the day, this one in a cardboard cup. He's been trying to relax and enjoy the quite, natural atmosphere around him, something that usually works to soothe his ragged temper. Today, on the other hand, he's having no such luck. Too many sounds keep happening around him. People passing by. Walking their dogs. Going out for a jog. Taking a quiet stroll with their children. And it's distracting him. He finds himself honing in on every conversation being had, every laugh, every sound being made by the noisy life around him.

And that's nothing compared to the distraction that the nature itself is causing him. He finds himself fixating on a squirrel across the way, staring it down until the small, bushy-tailed creature gives up the contest and absconds itself into the nearest tree, where he can still hear it, scuttling around up there. And that's nothing compared to the duck that keeps leisurely swimming by, expecting him to have some sort of treat for it as apparently all visitors to this spot must have had in the past. As the web-footed creature circles closer and closer, Faolan finds himself wishing for a stone to throw at it. Or perhaps his gun. No, what is he kidding, that's crazy. He sits forward on the bench and runs his hand over his face. Maybe the whole park thing was a bad idea after all...

C. BAR
It's been a long day, from start to finish, and since no amount of coffee, fresh air, or sunshine has done anything to cure Faolan's odd mood, there's only one more direction that he can turn. Well, there are probably more, but since he's not looking to break any laws tonight, that means alcohol. It means getting himself a drink or three or as many as it takes until whatever it is that's wound so tight within him settles down and allows him a moment's peace.

He should have known that the sort of slow burning fury building within him had no business mixing with drink, but that's neither here nor there, and it isn't until he left to go take a piss and comes back to find the seat he was in otherwise occupied that he realizes he has a problem. Because that something within him is just as raring to go as ever. And rather than calming that, if anything the only thing the alcohol has calmed is his sense of reason, which is not good. Fists clenched tight at his sides, Faolan doesn't really make all that menacing of an image. Not at first glance. But the sound of his voice clearly means business as he manages to grind out at the newcomer, "That seat's taken."

D. CHOOSE YOUR OWN ADVENTURE

[ooc note: this log takes place during the HUNTING SEASON event, and as such is loosely dated between the 20th and the 25th! faolan is a human and a hunter in the hillingdon clan, and if you want to get into trouble with him of a supernatural, hunting sort, by all means choose your own adventure or contact me and we can work something out. THANKS!]

Comments

[detectiveofthewest]

"What? However are you going to get around in London?" What with all the wild bears roaming about. Heiji flashed Faolan a quick smile just in case his comment should be misconstrued as to suggest that there were some werebears on the loose.

"That's too bad. I mean, it's prime swimsuit season right now. In fact, someone told me to check out Kent for beaches. But he also said it was the Garden of London, which don't exactly sound like a place you go to sip drinks with little umbrellas."

[reticence]

"It's hardly the Caribbean," Faolan agrees, wryly. "It does have its own charms though, although I suppose the same can be said of most places, in the end, even the shit ones." He shrugs slightly.

"Anyway, I'm not the swimsuit type either." Too many bruises. Too many scars. Raises too many questions, turns too many heads, draws far too much attention for his liking. It's not that he's not unattractive. Just that he's not really looking for all those eyes to be on him for those reasons. "I suppose that's why London suits me just fine, in the end," he says, finishing the thought.

[detectiveofthewest]

"That's too bad. Me, I love swimming!" And babes. Definitely the babes. "The sound of the waves, the smell of that salt air... oh, and the fish. I bet they have great seafood down by the shore."

He looked thoughtfully at Faolan. "Plus I hear seawater's good for injuries. Providing you've racked up one or two."

[reticence]

Faolan shakes his head. "I work too much to take a holiday," he responds. "Even if it is just a day trip." He's certainly not about to go on one on his own, at any rate. He quirks a wry smile at the other man, somewhat apologetically, as he continues, "Besides, as far as fish is concerned, fish and chips suits me just fine, and I'm liable to be able to find at least one decent place to serve it every other block in the city. And if I'm looking for a drink with an umbrella in it, I'm sure I can get one at a bar if I ask nice enough."

He leans back on the bench. "Don't worry about me, Heiji. I've been taking care of myself for a while now, I think I've got it down. Mostly." If by mostly you mean, 'enough to get by', which Faolan does.

[detectiveofthewest]

"That sounds depressing," said Heiji, who was now envisioning Faolan as an office worker dragging his work emails out even when he was supposed to have the day off. Probably a good thing that Faolan didn't work a normal 9 to 5, or who knew what would become of him?

"Will you at least tell me you got a table and more than two chairs in your flat?" Maybe a nice, comfy sofa? He'd at least be one better off than Sasuke, whose apartment could only be described as bleak. Very bleak. Practically like looking into a post-apocalyptic landscape.

[reticence]

Faolan shrugs. "The rent needs to get paid somehow," he says. And seeing as how his skills are limited to being a PI, being a hunter, and. Well. Having gone to school for music, before all of this... He'll take what he can get.

He raises an eyebrow about the question of tables and chairs. "I'm not that bad off," he says. He's got a bed and yes, even a sofa to boot. Bookshelves and everything. Nothing really to decorate per se, he's always been fairly minimalist, but he's not without the basic necessities.

[detectiveofthewest]

"You hunt things to pay the rent?" Heiji always envisioned hunters as being more the having-a-personal-code type if they weren't out and out unsavory sellswords, with those individuals that treated it more or less like a job being few and far between. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe Faolan was one of those people.

"That's great, though. Your house should be your home. Or your flat, I guess. None of that living outta boxes and eating cup ramen!" Heiji himself had walls and walls of books, having spent far more time amassing those than little balls of wicker that sat on your coffee table and made the room look more airy.

[reticence]

"I'm a PI," Faolan says, glancing sideways at the kid, hoping it explains something about this conversation here. "But my specialty is the supernatural. So I guess in a manner of speaking, I do." He's not going to comment on the living out of boxes and eating cup ramen part, though. He's hardly got enough in the way of possessions to live out of boxes so much as a couple duffle bags and a backpack. And considering the fact that he lives on takeout where and when he can get it, it's hardly better than the idea of cup ramen. But sure, if Heiji thinks it's great, he's not about to try and convince him otherwise.

"It is what it is, I guess," Faolan says, thinking of his little flat, with its 'scenic balcony' and its white walls. "At least I've got one." Which is more than he could have said for some portions of his life.

[detectiveofthewest]

It would probably be for the best if Faolan never saw Heiji's apartment. Or rather, the apartment that Heiji had convinced someone to let him live in. Satisfied, however, that Faolan was not living his life in a sad hole-in-the-wall with only a bird and a tomato plant for company, he nodded.

"Well, anyway, I guess I oughtta get going. Be careful out there, though! You ain't look like you have antlers, so I figure you'll be fine."

[reticence]

Faolan raises an eyebrow at the other. Like he has antlers? "Not since last I checked, at any rate," Faolan says, a bit dryly. He has no intention of leaving any time soon himself. Where would he go? What would he do? At least here in the park, the scenery is comforting to him. If he were elsewhere, who knows what sort of trouble he might be getting himself into. No, he thinks to himself, the sooner that this shit is over, the better.

"Guess I'll see you around then," he says. Heiji seems to have developed a talent for stumbling upon him no matter where he was or what he was doing, after all.