Zuko (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
broiling) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
undergrounds2015-10-26 12:55 pm
broiling) wrote in undergrounds2015-10-26 12:55 pm
Entry tags:
first | OTA
A: Tea Shop
It was mid afternoon and Zuko found himself hanging little pumpkin lanterns in the window of the Jasmine Dragon. His boss said it was good for tourist, to get them in the Halloween spirit while they were away from America. Zuko was just thankful it wasn't tiny witch's hats. Nothing like insulting any supernatural guests that found themselves stumbling into the quaint little tea shop. And from what Zuko knew witches tended to be a proud lot. Not that he could mention any of this to his very normal human boss.
There was a jangling at the store front door and Zuko looked down from the step ladder he was balancing on to whatever guest just entered. Immediately he could tell someone from a faction had just walked in. He slowly lowered himself back down on to the floor ready for a tense conversation of him skirting around his own affiliations.
"How can I help you?"
B: Streets At Night
It had been a long day and the only thing on Zuko's mind was crashing in bed and not moving for several hours. However, he was becoming aware of another set of footsteps following his own down the mostly deserted street. He took a sharp turn to his right and listened. Definitely following. He waited until the person rounded the corner after him before he conjured a fireball and blasted it in their direction.
"Stop following me," he bellowed.
C: Hillingdon House
Not matter how many times he came here he always ended up feeling like a stranger. It wasn't too long ago he found himself here, a drifter in need of help and the clan had extended a hand. It was grounding and Zuko was always thankful for anything that showed him what path to lead. He just wished he could feel more comfortable talking to his fellow clansman. It was a problem that stemmed from him and he knew it. There was only one way over that particular hurdle, so he stopped by someone who seemed free and waved a little.
"Hey," Zuko said, "Can I ask you a question? Say you were avoiding someone for a long time, because you weren't sure if they'd want to know you anymore. Things were complicated. But then you ran into them. What would you do? Would you pretend nothing happened and try to build a relationship, or would you try to avoid them?"
He really wished his uncle was here. He was always brimming with confusing, but good advice. A stranger would have to do for now.
It was mid afternoon and Zuko found himself hanging little pumpkin lanterns in the window of the Jasmine Dragon. His boss said it was good for tourist, to get them in the Halloween spirit while they were away from America. Zuko was just thankful it wasn't tiny witch's hats. Nothing like insulting any supernatural guests that found themselves stumbling into the quaint little tea shop. And from what Zuko knew witches tended to be a proud lot. Not that he could mention any of this to his very normal human boss.
There was a jangling at the store front door and Zuko looked down from the step ladder he was balancing on to whatever guest just entered. Immediately he could tell someone from a faction had just walked in. He slowly lowered himself back down on to the floor ready for a tense conversation of him skirting around his own affiliations.
"How can I help you?"
B: Streets At Night
It had been a long day and the only thing on Zuko's mind was crashing in bed and not moving for several hours. However, he was becoming aware of another set of footsteps following his own down the mostly deserted street. He took a sharp turn to his right and listened. Definitely following. He waited until the person rounded the corner after him before he conjured a fireball and blasted it in their direction.
"Stop following me," he bellowed.
C: Hillingdon House
Not matter how many times he came here he always ended up feeling like a stranger. It wasn't too long ago he found himself here, a drifter in need of help and the clan had extended a hand. It was grounding and Zuko was always thankful for anything that showed him what path to lead. He just wished he could feel more comfortable talking to his fellow clansman. It was a problem that stemmed from him and he knew it. There was only one way over that particular hurdle, so he stopped by someone who seemed free and waved a little.
"Hey," Zuko said, "Can I ask you a question? Say you were avoiding someone for a long time, because you weren't sure if they'd want to know you anymore. Things were complicated. But then you ran into them. What would you do? Would you pretend nothing happened and try to build a relationship, or would you try to avoid them?"
He really wished his uncle was here. He was always brimming with confusing, but good advice. A stranger would have to do for now.
no subject
"Right, that was a git thing to say. I'm sorry," he paused and then added, "I could have really hurt you."
He said it to relieve his own guilt more than anything. It didn't feel right, not gentlemanly at all to just leave her with a bad apology and nothing else. Not when he had technically committed an act of violence and wasted her time.
"Look, I have twenty pounds. Why don't you take that. So you can get a taxi. Or whatever. Just don't mention this to anyone. Please."
No matter how long he had been alive sex was still a touchy subject and giving money to a prostitute for whatever reason was pushing his limits.
no subject
He seemed extremely worried about her mentioning this, which was enough to peak her interest. "No; keep the money. I've got my own, and I don't take things out of pity." Or whatever it was. She could only imagine it was pity, given the way they'd met. "I won't tell anyone, don't know what I'd tell them anyway. I don't particularly enjoy talking about my work to my friends." Kenzi was cool with it, and probably liked to hear some of the details of more interesting encounters. But.
no subject
Zuko gave her an unsure look. He didn't have anyone he could call a friend in London, but as lonely as that was it didn't sound as bad as not being able to talk openly about things. He assumed that's what most people did, talk about their lives and woes.
"Sounds tough. I'm sorry."
He awkwardly looked around, at anything but Nancy. He wasn't good with this sort of thing. But he was genuinely sympathetic. He hoped it showed.
no subject
"Nothing to be sorry for." As for not talking to people about her life? It was easier to not talk than to talk about it. No need to burden people with her woes.
no subject
"Being out all night, I mean. I'm just being a good--" he paused. How the hell would he describe himself?
"It's just nice," he decided, skirting around the issues of his identity.
no subject
Well. Sometimes she took what she didn't earn, but that's where picking pockets came in.
"You keep it. Give it to someone that actually needs it. There are plenty of homeless around, yeah?"
no subject
"Yeah, I guess I can go philanthropize them." It was a joke, and an intensely unfunny one. He cleared his throat awkwardly.
"If you ever want tea some night you can come by the Jasmine Dragon. Free cup on me."
no subject
"Jasmine Dragon. Alright, I'll look into it." She purses her lips, watching him put the wallet away. She could accept free tea. This was England, after all. People tended to offer you a cuppa just for breathing.
"And you should look into not throwing fireballs at girls just trying to make a living."
no subject
"Get home safe."
He then started heading down the street in the direction of his apartment, hoping that was the end of his late night encounters.