November Catch-All

[smugfox]

a) Somewhere with food

"Do you mind?" The good thing about British people, Reynard had quickly figured out, was that it didn't matter one bit whether they minded or not. By the time even the least polite of them had mustered up the courage to tell him that they very much minded indeed, he'd usually already gotten away with whatever it was he wanted to do.

In this case he not only sat down across from the person, but he also reached over to snatch something from their plate and immediately put it into his mouth. "Most gracious."

[ooc: Be the person who has food stolen, be an observer, join in to steal even more food or punch him in the face. Go with the flow!]

b) On the tube

"Right." That came out of nowhere and loud enough that several heads turned to look at him, quite a few people looking offended already. The tube wasn't a place to loudly proclaim anything. It was, at most, a place for quiet conversation and only if you knew the person sitting next to you. Other than that, anything other than 'pardon me' was really excessive.

"This is taking forever and we still don't know one another." Reynard got up and started to walk down the train, pointing at a passenger. "This man passed out ten minutes ago, because he's so drunk. Does anyone know where he wants to get off? Shouldn't we ask him?" He kicked the man's foot lightly, frowning. "He might also be dead, somebody ought to check on that. What about you?" Turning on his heels he looked at a girl with blue hair who stared at him with very wide eyes. "I can't be the only one who's been wondering for the past seven stops if that's your natural hair colour. Because it looks stunning on you, so either you have great genes or make great choices. Well done."

He took a few more steps, just in time to grab the pole so he wouldn't fall over. "Speaking of choices, can somebody tell me why every second person in London currently chooses to dress in red and black lumberjack shirts? Did I miss some kind of announcement? Is it a new uniform? Because if it is, I reckon the lesbians are pissed you stole it from them."

Spreading his arms he was almost tempted to take a bow as he took in all the people either staring at him or pretending not to hear him. The waves of second-hand embarrassment were all but tangible. Beautiful. "Will you people just start talking already?"

[ooc: ...someone just make him stop rambling. Or keep him rambling, whatever amuses you more.]

c) Locked to Siobhan

Reynard has only been here once before, but that was enough to find the way again. He slipped in after some other tenant and made his way up the stairs. In a plastic bag he carries quite a few scones, teacakes and assorted other treats. Just what a kind baker who left his store unattended for a few minutes wanted, to share with the world.

Given the circumstances, Reynard really didn't think it could count as stealing. Mostly it was taking what might have been given or at the very least should have been anyway.

d) Bring your own adventure!

[ooc: Just do whatever you like, feel free to hit me up for plotting.]

Comments

[smugfox]

For all his many faults, no one could ever accuse Reynard of not knowing how to draw and command attention. Really, it was mostly because of his many fault that he was so ideally gifted for exactly that.

"Not really, but I wasn't feeling bad. Just lacking entertainment." Reynard turned away from Faolan to spare another smile to the blue-haired girl, whose blush was clashing with her hair rather violently, but who smiled back at him nonetheless. That done he looked back at Faolan and lifted his shoulder in a light shrug. "So, yeah. I do. Thank you for caring."

[reticence]

Faolan nods slightly, throwing an apologetic glance over his shoulder at the other passengers before turning to the man beside him. He recognizes him from around Hillingdon, after all. He doesn't know his name, but he's seen him about. And he's seen his theatrics before as well, for that matter. Though he's kept himself to himself, and although he's been recently promoted to the top, he wonders if this man knows who he is in turn. Doubtful, all things considered.

"No problem," he retorts. "Though most of those people are far too English to appreciate such a gesture." Says the Irishman. "If you're looking for conversation, you're going to have to stop trying so hard." Then again, in retrospect, it had found him conversation with him, he supposes.

[smugfox]

"I wasn't looking for conversation so much as entertainment and I excel in providing my own. But there I went and snatched up someone to converse with as well. Seems as if I'm exceptionally lucky today." Today, always, whichever. Reynard could never quite decide if he was more of an optimist or just a lucky bastard. Probably a bit of both.

"You're Faolan, aren't you?" It wasn't really a question. Reynard might not have been here long and not actually have spent that much time around Hillingdon, but he made sure to get to know who could be of importance. "What's it like? Meeting me, I mean."

[reticence]

Faolan raises an eyebrow at the question. The second question, rather. What's it like meeting him? "Are you going to make me regret this?" Faolan asks the other man outright, because it feels as if it's the thing to do, in response to a question like that, before continuing on.

"I am Faolan, yes. Didn't know whether you'd know of me. Didn't know whether you paid attention to things like that. You seem to be rather occupied otherwise most of the time." A polite way of saying that Faolan had thought he was rather too self-absorbed to be able to notice things like that going around him. It made him think better of the other, honestly. He knows who he's talking too as well, after all. Though he doesn't toss his name back at him. He knows how much that might inflate an ego in return, and Reynard's seems pretty inflated enough.

[smugfox]

"Don't worry about it. If you are going to regret this, you probably still have some time until you'll realize." Anything more would be telling. Not that Reynard really had any plans of making Faolan regret anything, but odds were he would. He knew himself.

"I do give that appearance, don't I? That I'm occupied with myself." Worked well enough for him. Reynard knew people, Reynard watched people and aside from remembering a lot more than anyone tended to give him credit for, he also drew conclusions. He didn't really mind if people thought that he had no focus or at least no other focus than himself, it worked well for him most of the time. "What can I say? I'm entertaining."

Reynard thought his ego had the adequate size, so naturally it was over-inflated. Still seemed fitting to him.

[reticence]

Oh, it's fitting alright. And he's entertaining for that matter, if not perhaps as entertaining as he thinks he is. Certainly not as far as the rest of the passengers around them are concerned.

"You'll forgive me," Faolan counters. "I've been rather busy, of late. I haven't managed to catch your name yet." Though he obviously recognizes the face and the theatrics, to be sure. Faolan had generally kept himself to himself, up until the point where he had accidentally wound up in charge of them all. Now getting to know all of them, getting to know who they were and what they stood for, it was rather suddenly on his list of priorities.

[smugfox]

"That's quite the assumption to make. I might forgive you yet, you really don't know me well enough to know for sure, do you?" Of course he was deliberately messing with him. That was hardly surprising. Reynard flashed a smile and shrugged, then gave Faolan an encouraging pat on the shoulder. "I'm sure you'll manage to catch it sooner or later. You seem like a very competent fellow."

[reticence]

For a moment, Faolan doesn't follow the other man. He'd been using set phrases, he hadn't expected them to be turned around and twisted back at him so literally. It takes him a handful of seconds, standing there staring at the other man before it clicks into place and he raises an eyebrow at him. What is it with people he knows having truly bizarre senses of humor?

"You could spare me the mystery and tell me now," he posits, before adding, somewhat snarkily, "A bold suggestion, I know."

[smugfox]

"Quite daring, yes. You're so forward." Reynard laughed, because he couldn't manage a coquettish giggle to fit this statement to save his life. He might be a good actor, but there was only so much he could do with a voice like his. Deep and growly, easily, but lightness was harder to pull off.

"I think I'll let you enjoy the intrigue. Besides, it will make me so much more memorable to you and you probably already have at least one thing you call me in your head." 'What a bastard', if he was any judge. "How are you this fine day, my good sir? What's the right way to address you anyway? I'm unsure how laid back we truly are. I'd just love to recognize your authority. I have an excellent track record of that."

[reticence]

Faolan has the feeling that talking to this man for too long is going to give him a headache. He raises an eyebrow at him in return, before shrugging and giving in to the fact that he's probably going to regret having started this conversation in the first place. He just hadn't been able to sit back and keep listening to him carry on at the other unsuspecting passengers. His mistake.

"You can call me what you like," he says, realizing it's probably a mistake to have done so only after the fact.