[open] Aces take your time

[falsify]

A;

You're at one of the nightclubs in South London; they're always best at this time of year in some people's estimation. Much livelier, better music, and the summer promotions are always better in July than in August. It's when the promoters are finally in the swing of things, but they still need to try that extra bit harder to entice people to come inside.

What might stand out to the keen observer, is a rather attractive woman sitting at the bar. Nothing so strange about a good looking woman hanging by herself in a club of course, but what might strike a person as odd is the wide berth people seem to be giving her. No one sat next to her, barely even anyone acknowledging her as she nurses her drink - glancing around the room on occasion.

But maybe there isn't anything strange to you about this, maybe this is just the person you're looking for. Following rumours or a tip about someone who'd be good business to get to know. Or maybe you just fancy talking to a pretty lady for a bit.

Have fun with that.

B;

There's a cool breeze on the air on this fine afternoon. Eames wanders through Camden enjoying it; London's humidity come summer has never been something he's overly fond of, but today it's tolerable. Lots of people out and about, sitting by the lock or dodging flierers on the street, but he moves through the crowds easily. A certain fondness for the area that sometimes makes him think - he doesn't fuss too much with who owns what borough, but this is one he'd certainly like to see taken from the Council's control. Honestly there's a sad kind of irony in one of the last homes of punk in London being beholden to the "protection" of such an establishment.

Never the matter, he supposes. Not much to be done about it right this moment.

He has an ice cream in his hand because he's a grown-ass adult and he can do what he wants, and he's currently engaged in a heated debate with one of the vendors in the Stables Market. A man selling vintage furniture who thinks he can get away with jacking up his prices because he's in a popular area.

In his wild gesturing-- well. Either you dodge it or you don't, but either way all Eames has now is a hollow waffle cone sans ice cream and a laughing salesman. What a day.

C;

Or, whatever! HMU on Plurk if you've got something particular in mind, or just. You know. Bug Eames.

Also brackets are cool, I can do either.

Comments

[falsify]

He's trying to be nice here, it just doesn't come easy to him because he's a massive asshole, let's all just appreciate the effort, alright? Gosh. A man lost a tasty treat here today.

Anyway. Eames gives that some thought as he steps toward a bin, throwing his cone away with a tragic sigh. What a waste.

"One by the station," he points in the vague direction of Chalk Farm, "not too expensive, if I remember right."

[kleptofaeniac]

Instead of thanking him and getting on her merry (if not slightly filthy) way, Kenzi saw a new opportunity to get into his pockets. She smiled a little absent-minded-like and her stance shifted into something a lot less confident than it was two seconds ago.

"Mind helping me find it? I'm not from around here."

Which he could clearly tell by her accent, but she felt the need to point it out. Some guys would feel like they should take care of a foreign girl, even if Canada wasn't exactly exotic.

[falsify]

The way Eames wrinkles his nose might well indicate just how much he feels like he should take care of this girl, even if he did wreck her clothes. But the way she shifts her presentation catches his interest - because she must be after something here, and he has to admit he's curious.

He sighs and gestures for her to come with as he starts to leave the market, "it's this way."

[kleptofaeniac]

Kenzi brightens considerably at his agreement and looks like she's two seconds away from swooning and saying 'my hero'.

"Awesome, thanks!"

She doesn't sidle up to him immediately - that'd be too suspicious. Instead she walks in step with him, with about a foot of space between them.

"He gets his junk off Portobello. The guy you were arguing with. Reupholsters it to look old but valuable, does some varnish and boom - jacks up the price a good hundred more than he bought it for."

And while it's intended to earn some interest from him so he won't be paying attention to her slipping her hand in his pocket ... she forgets she just told him she isn't from around here.

[falsify]

Eames notes the slip (sloppy) but he doesn't comment on it just yet. He's still curious about what his new companion is up to - letting her know he's paying that much attention would change the game too much. She might even call it quits.

Instead he snorts absently at her comment, "must make a killing off rich people who don't know any better."

[kleptofaeniac]

"That's the idea." Kenzi only knew the guy through acquaintances, but it wouldn't be hard to assume why exactly he was doing what he did with the furniture.

If she had at all thought of it before him, it'd be her in that shop passing off trash as treasure.