undergrounds | Small Town Celebrities party log for Sept17-Oct6

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Small Town Celebrities party log for Sept17-Oct6

The Redbright students clearly aren't getting enough homework if they have the time to start following their favorite members of supernatural society around for the chance at getting The Perfect Shot of them looking hot. It starts slow and small, for the first week, anyway. Just a random person pulling out their phone and taking a quick shot. Can't even be sure it was you they were photographing. By the five days in, though, they've started making a game of it. Groups of two and three going out together. Following people for a while. Having the audacity to wave when they're looked at. Some even invite their target to take a picture with them and their friends. (If you say yes to that, please do flex a little.)

Ratings on the website change on a day to day basis and currently both Redbright Professors and the Hillingdon Clan lists are the current most popular due to the territory change over and general familiarity with the groups.

Hans Estergaard had been reigning supreme as #1 in Hillingdon since he had the audacity to challenge Sylvia for her seat on the council. An unprecedented length of time! (It's like the students enjoy the idea of someone standing up to Sylvia, the person ultimately in charge of telling them what to do. Go figure.)

Most factions are getting more attention from these folks, though. They really have a lot of time on their hands.

[[ooc: post around like it's a party log. If you want an npc bothering you and want me to play them, put NPC request in the subject line.]]

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Had to pull some strings? That's a surprise. Lancelot isn't really sure he expected this much effort on picking a restaurant. He'd be fine with a regular Italian chain place too.

"Yes! Yes of course," he says, in obvious surprise, and even though he hasn't eaten anything or even seen a menu yet. It seems fine? Why wouldn't it be? "I hope I've not made you think I have expensive taste, though. I'd be fine with a gastropub too."

Faolan shakes his head slightly. "It's not that," he says awkwardly, reaching for the menu and pulling it toward himself, mostly to give himself something to do with his hands considering the fact that he's studied it intensely before he'd decided on the place and honestly already knows what he's going to order for himself anyway.

"It's just..." He trails off, shrugging slightly, before offering, "I just thought. It would be nice. To take you somewhere you might not have been before. Somewhere...like this." He keeps his eyes intensely on the wine selection so that he doesn't have to interpret whatever look the other man might be giving him in response to that.

Well, that's... fine, he supposes?

"It is nice!" he assures him, "or at least, the decor is nice? I suppose we'll find out about the food."

He flicks a playful smile, a little teasing at that. Opening the menu he scans it thoughtfully, trying to decide what might be good.

"You'll have to let me take you somewhere next time, though. Keep it fair."

'To keep it fair.' Faolan keeps himself from reacting visibly to that by sheer force of will alone, but it's pretty much all the proof he needed to understand that Lancelot really does have no idea why they are there. Or why the restaurant is so nice. Or why Faolan has tried so hard, with all of it. Well, Lancelot knows why he does but he doesn't know why now. That much is now painfully obvious.

"...you really don't have to," Faolan answers, awkwardly. That isn't the point of this, after all. He studies his menu without really looking at it at all. "Consider this. My treat, I suppose..."

"Am I not allowed to treat you in turn? That doesn't seem right!"

He wrinkles his nose and gently nudges Faolan under the table.

"Come on, what are we having? Are we going for starters or just skipping to mains?"

Edited (Belated typo correction ) 2016-10-02 11:35 (UTC)

Faolan glances up at the other man and knows within his heart that he can't correct the other man. Correct him to say that he hadn't actually meant for it to be merely a treat -- perhaps if he had then he might have chosen somewhere a bit less... Well, like this. That he had something else in mind in choosing this venue. He supposes that's neither here nor there now. He'll just have to go along with it now, he supposes. The alternative is far more awkward and embarrassing than Faolan would care to create things just now.

"Whatever you'd like," Faolan replies. "Like I said, it's my treat."

Lancelot presses his lips together at that, mock-irritated at Faolan's easy non-answer of whatever you want.

"We're eating together, Faolan. Unless you intend to just sit there and watch me eat."

He lofts an eyebrow questioningly, drops his eyes back to the menu as he scans it.

"We could split a starter, though? There must be something we could share --"

Only something pricks at his senses and he frowns, looks up and around the restaurant with a slight frown. It's an odd sort of feeling, yet one that is familiar now. The sense that he's being watched.

Faolan nods slightly, glancing down at the menu as he does. He hadn't meant to suggest that Lancelot eat while he watches, so he looks over the options for starters as the other man suggests they could split something.

"I wouldn't mind splitting something," Faolan agrees, not catching that the other man had stopped himself from talking until he glances up and sees him looking around as he is. Faolan raises an eyebrow at the other man and glances around himself before looking at the other man.

"Lancelot...?" he asks, raising an eyebrow at him questioningly.

He frowns around the restaurant a moment, thinking, then shakes his head slowly.

"Nothing," he says softly, "I thought--" only there it is, waves of long red curls talking to the waiter. "Thought I saw someone I knew," he finishes. What on earth is she doing here? Of all places? Well, eating he supposes. He blinks and frowns down at he menu instead, trying to force himself to focus. "Forgive me, I suppose London is just a lot smaller than I thought. Do you like pâté? Should I know that?"

He doesn't think he's been around him eating it before, but he feels weirdly off kilter now. Like he's forgotten how to do this sort of thing normally, whatever 'normal' really is.

Faolan keeps his eyebrows raised at the other man for a moment longer -- someone he knows? Who? Who would put a look like that on his face? -- before he focuses back on the task at hand. The menu, ordering a starter for the pair of them. He can honestly say that pâté isn't exactly his favorite cuisine, and he supposed since they're going to spend money on it, he might as well actually enjoy what they're eating instead.

"Well... I don't know why you should, but I don't. Exactly. The mussels sound good though," he says, glancing at Lancelot hopefully. He knows the other man likes seafood. He's cooked with it before after all. Hell, he's cooked it for him for that matter. (Then again, Faolan would even prefer escargots over pâté any day.)

"Wouldn't that be quite big for a starter?"

At least to Lancelot, although he still seems distracted -- eyes flicking up and around the restaurant.

"There's some toast with onion too, which might be nice. If you like onion enough, I suppose, and salmon..."

His eyes flit up again -- and she is here. It definitely is here. Why is Elaine here? It nags at him, and he knows she's seen him this time. Even as he drops his eyes again and fakes casual interest in his menu.

Faolan shrugs slightly, before glancing at the menu again to read about the toast. It doesn't sound bad, all things considered, and he glances up to the other man to say as much, but catches the look on his face as he does and the absent look in his eyes. Watching the way the other man looks down at the menu and tries to look interested in it while obviously being otherwise distracted. Faolan frowns slightly.

"The toast sounds fine, but. Are you...?" he trails off for a moment, uncertain as to why the other man is so troubled, before speaking up again. "Is there something wrong?"

Lancelot is loathe to answer, that much is obvious, eyes tracking over the menu. He looks up and winces a touch apologetically, is about to start answering when movement catches the corner of his eye and a young woman appears by their table. Her hair falls in red curls, and she beams happily at the two of them -- phone brandished in one hand.

"Hi!" she begins, "isn't it such a small world? I didn't expect to see you here."

From Lancelot's face he's unsure how he feels about this, but after a second he offers an uneasy smile.

"It is! Elaine, this is Faolan. Faolan, Elaine. She's a student at Redbright. We seem to keep running into each other lately."

Faolan registers the other man's unease, although Lancelot is far too polite to give off just who or what is making him uneasy, and thus Faolan is just generally suspicious of their surroundings instead of being specifically suspicious of anyone in particular. Certainly not Elaine herself, although his eyes do narrow slightly in response to her presence. (This is supposed to be a date, after all.)

He nods slightly in response to the introduction but is loathe to know quite how to respond from there. Really as far as he is concerned after all it's a pleasure but he would honestly prefer it if she get lost. Though somewhere in the back of his mind questions register. Student had he said? Lancelot always had had a problem with younger women.

"A small world indeed," Faolan grumbles, more to himself than anything before greeting her a bit more formally. "A pleasure to meet you."

"Are you here with someone?" Lancelot prompts curiously, half hoping she might say yes then go back to them.

"Oh, no! No, no I was just in the area and thought I'd stop by for some lunch. Let me see if I can pull up a chair --"

Lancelot's face falls a little as he turns away and he winces, trying to think of an excuse.

"Oh, well, we won't be long so --"

"Nonsense! You just get here!"

He fidgets with his menu uneasily as she tries to flag down a waiter and shoots Faolan a slightly helpless look.

Faolan quickly assesses the situation unfolding before him. The date hadn't been going the best as far as he could tell -- hell, as far as he knew, Lancelot didn't even really register that it had been a date, when he'd asked it of him. But that didn't mean that he's willing to let this woman insert herself and take it away from him. He had worked hard to get up the courage to ask. Worked hard to research the restaurant, worked hard to assure they would get seats, worked hard to reassure himself that there would be something that Lancelot would like about it. And they hadn't even managed to order yet.

One look at Lancelot's expression says all that Faolan needs to know about this situation.

"Excuse me, Elaine was it?" Faolan asks. He pushes himself to stand -- not that his height helps all that much, but it's better than addressing her from his seat. "Elaine, it's lovely to meet you, but I had reserved this table for two and I intend for it to remain as such."

Elaine barely glances up at Faolan, she's largely disinterested by him, before waving a dismissive hand.

"Don't worry," she assures him, "I won't stay long -- oh, thank you!"

A waiter hesitantly pauses near their table with a chair, now unsure if he should be putting it down or not. Lancelot looks a little like he wants the ground to just swallow him up entirely.

Faolan glances down at Lancelot and feels bad for the fact that he's probably half the reason the other man looks like he wants to crawl under the table and disappear. But Faolan has a point to be made. He's not going to let her just waltz in on his life like this. He won't let her steamroll over Lancelot either. The pair of them obviously aren't friends, and Faolan feels his hackles rising as he instinctively fights to protect the other man from her.

"No," Faolan says, both to the waiter and to Elaine herself. "You won't stay at all. And neither will we." He glances down at Lancelot, an apology in his eyes. He doubts that they can recover from this, not at this restaurant at least, and for that he is sorry. He had tried. For Lancelot's sake. "Let's go," he says, his voice softer as he addresses Lancelot than the way he had just been speaking to Elaine.

Lancelot watches the proceedings uncomfortably, starting to hunch over slightly as if to make himself smaller and less visible. Then Faolan says And neither will we and he straightens suddenly, blinks at Faolan in open surprise and relief. Let's go, Faolan says, and he brightens considerably before pushing up and -- hesitating, looking at Elaine.

"Forgive me, Elaine, we really are -- very busy --" He tries to find a way to circle past her closer to Faolan, slightly awkward again now as she frowns in confusion. People have begun looking up from their food curiously.

"Oh, no, please stay! I was only thinking of having the soup! You've only been here ten minutes or so, you can't even have ordered yet!"

Faolan's eyes narrow as Lancelot stands and Elaine protests their departure. Only been here ten minutes or so, she says, and how can she know that, save for if she had followed them there. Followed Lancelot there. The idea of it sets his teeth on edge, and Faolan moves to make certain that he is standing between the pair of them.

"We are leaving," Faolan repeats, keeping from raising his voice but making certain that he is absolutely clear on the matter. "We are leaving and you are staying here. And if you don't..." Faolan says, trailing off and lowering his voice so that only those in the immediate area will hear him as he continues. "If you don't and you choose to follow us then you had better believe I will call the police on you."

He makes certain he's made his point before he places his hand on Lancelot's back and without a second thought or glance, turns to lead him out of the restaurant to the street beyond.

Lancelot realises, with a belated sinking sense of embarrassment, that call the police is a peculiar threat to be making when standing beside a police officer. He cringes at his own inability to deal with the situation but lets Faolan lead him out regardless, keeping his eyes down so he doesn't have to see the awkward looks he's getting. The waiter, at least, has the sense to try and stop Elaine following too quickly, so she isn't on their heels as they reach the door and make their way out.

"I'm sorry," Lancelot is saying softly, "I have no idea how she found us here. She's... a little -- strange, but I never thought..."

That she'd be that invasive. Which is strange, because he should have recognised the signs. He's a police officer. How did he not?

Faolan shakes his head slightly. "It's not your fault," he says, keeping his hand on the other man's back, throwing glances over his shoulder until they are safely around the corner and out of the view of the restaurant itself. So much for his plans for the evening, he thinks to himself, before turning back to Lancelot again.

"She was following you," he said. "You didn't have any say in the matter yourself. Even if you'd noticed before, there wouldn't have been much else to do about it besides this anyway." He shrugs slightly, before turning his gaze to the road ahead of them. Sticking his hands in his pockets as he does.

"At least we hadn't gotten around to ordering yet. It would have been harder to walk out if there had been a ticket to handle." Small blessings, he supposes.

"I'm sorry," he says softly, and glances around uneasily -- trying to put Elaine out of his mind but still a little uncomfortable. "We could go somewhere else? I admit, I don't know this area very well but there has to be somewhere. I said I'd eat out with you and I'd still like to. It's like you said, the place doesn't matter so much as the company."

Right? He forces a hopeful smile, trying to rally they both of them by sheer force of will.

Faolan shakes his head again. "No," he says. "She's still in the area. She might... 'Happen' upon us again if we stick around. There's too much of a risk here. We've already been chased out of one restaurant, and that waiter won't hold her back forever." He doesn't think his temper could handle another such fiasco in one day.

He glances aside at the other man and his expression softens somewhat in response to Lancelot's. The place doesn't matter, so much as the company. "I'd still like to treat you out some day," he admits softly, "but. Maybe... We could go back to mine? Order some takeaway? My treat."

He glances away again. "I know it won't be the same, but. It's probably the best chance of salvaging we have, without the chance of interruption. If...you're interested, that is..."

Lancelot, in truth, looks a little relieved at the suggestion.

"I'd like that, and I think my nerves would appreciate it too."

Even if Elaine didn't find them Lancelot knows he'd be looking over his shoulder, wary that she might spring out of the shadows.

"Train or cab?"

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