Small Town Celebrities party log for Sept17-Oct6

[dirtyredneck]

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.]]

Comments

[knightscode]

Enjoy it?

"I didn’t realise you didn't know," he admits, "I didn’t get much of a chance to talk about it either, all things considered."

What with Elaine and chaos after it.

[reticence]

"You didn't give me any clue that you did either!" he insists, turning back to his shirt to see if the water is doing anything to get the staining out, his mind working fast as he does. Trying to process what Lancelot is saying and put it together with everything he thought he knew about the night so far.

Deeming it looks alright, if soaked through, Faolan turns back to the other man with a slightly vulnerable and uncertain look on his face. "Everything you said in the cab," he says. "About not needing to impress you. You knew then? And you... You agreed to come back here with me and continue the evening anyway?"

[knightscode]

"Yes?" he prompts, a little confused by the question. In his mind, after all, that had been why he said it. Because he had an idea of what Faolan was trying to do.

[reticence]

Faolan shakes his head at the other man after a second, trying to wrap his head around the lot of it and uncertain whether he can or not. It's a lot for him to take in at once, especially when he had assumed failure.

"I need to... Hang this to dry," he says, after a moment. He grabs the dripping shirt and, after a moment's hesitation, steps away from the sink and back into the bedroom. Disappearing into his bathroom to hang the shirt over a towel rack for now to let it drip before shuffling back into the bedroom proper to dig out another shirt to put on. A tshirt this time. Maybe that will help him feel a little less out of place...

[knightscode]

Lancelot ambles after Faolan, stopping just outside his bedroom door and leaning slightly into the frame. He sips at the drink, not particularly watching -- more waiting than anything else.

"If you want me to leave I can," he offers, just because hasn't exactly expressed joy at these various revelations. More surprise and something between anger and frustration. "I can take a taxi and pick up something on the way home."

[reticence]

Faolan pulls the new shirt on over his head and turns at the sound Lancelot's voice. Frowning slightly, although not because of Lancelot himself, but because of the implication behind his words. He bites his lip slightly, shaking his head as he steps back towards the other man and rests his hand against the door frame to lean just against it on this side of the room.

"I want..." he says, trailing off, flicking an uncertain glance up at the other man through his eyelashes. "I'd like. I'd like for you to stay. If. If you'd like to stay. Knowing..." He trails off again, before shrugging helplessly. "Knowing everything, really. Knowing what a mess I am especially I suppose." He glances away again. "I'm sorry," he says, although he doesn't know what specifically he's apologizing about just yet.

[knightscode]

"Faolan," he sighs tiredly, and paces the rest of the way into his room -- sets his lager down on the set of drawers and leans his weight onto it with one hand. "Don't do that. Please. I'm already here. I've already said I came here knowing. Don't talk yourself in circles. Don't make this more complicated than it really is."

[reticence]

Faolan turns to watch the other man step into his room and turns his eyes to the floor as he gently chides him in his response. He had come there knowing, however. And he is still there, despite his behavior. "I'm sorry," he says again, because he is. He doesn't mean to get like this, he doesn't mean to...

He forces himself to take a deep breath in and let it out slowly before crossing the room to him and tentatively reaching out for Lancelot's free hand. "You are here," he says, squeezing Lancelot's hand gently. "You are still here. And I am glad to have your company. For what it is worth..."

[knightscode]

Lancelot tugs Faolan forward by his hand to close the rest of the gap between them, turns so he's leaning his weight back against the cabinet and tiredly loops arms around him.

"You're forgiven so long as I can finish my drink and eat food when it comes."

That's about as far as Lancelot can plan right now, food and finishing his drink.

[reticence]

Faolan is honestly somewhat startled that Lancelot is tugging him forward and into his arms like this. But he doesn't fight it. Quite the contrary, in fact. Though it takes him a moment to relax into the touch and a moment later to give himself enough permission to feel like he can return the embrace as well. He tips his head towards the other man after a moment, resting his forehead against Lancelot's shoulder for a moment and soaking it in, in case he might never get this again.

"I asked you to dinner," he says softly. "I'm not going to stop you from eating your food when it comes in. Nor am I going to take away your drink." He huffs out a breath that might have been a laugh in another life and then picks up his head enough to be able to look at the other man again. "You might have to watch me with mine though," he adds, with the flicker of a smile. Trying to make it a bit more obvious he's making a joke about spilling on himself, considering he's already 'not handled his drink very well' in other ways around the other man as well.

[knightscode]

He huffs back at Faolan for that, idly smoothing a hand down his back.

"I thought you were watching me?" he prompts, so he didn't drink too much and fall asleep -- which he's starting to feel is a real danger with how his stress levels are climbing and dropping constantly.

[reticence]

"I am," Faolan replies, his lips curling further into something of a tentatively teasing smile as he does. Hesitant, because he isn't quite certain what all of this means exactly. Lancelot, agreeing to come home with him, knowing he'd asked him out on a date. Lancelot, holding him like this, knowing his affections for him. Lancelot, still wanting to stay for the evening, despite it all. Does it mean that he's free to stop hiding how he feels? Does it mean that he's allowed to stop holding himself back?

"Lancelot..." he says softly, his smile faltering slightly as his eyes search the other man's face. And Faolan can almost feel the world spinning madly out of control as he stops talking himself around in circles the way the other man had said and takes one mad leap of faith, surely to either sink or swim. He feels almost breathless, with the way his heart seems to have leapt up to begin a mile a minute without him when really all he's doing is asking a simple question. Yet it's a simple question that will probably supply answer all of his doubts and fears. No wonder he feels as though he's stepping off of a cliff as he continues, "If I... If I were to ask if I may kiss you again -- properly this time -- what would you say?"

[knightscode]

Lancelot leans his weight back again so he can study Faolan properly in turn, hands slipping down to lace together comfortably at the small of his back. His lips twitch up idly in amusement.

"I'd say I've never been asked so politely," he teases, "how could I refuse?"

[reticence]

Faolan goes through a swift fluctuation of emotions following Lancelot's teasing response. At first he isn't certain that he had heard correctly at first. Then he wonders how the hell Lancelot can always be so calm and nonchalant when Faolan himself is an absolute mess. Finally, his thought processes settle on Lancelot's words themselves, how could I refuse?

His arms tighten around Lancelot for a moment and he swallows hard as he tries to struggle to compose himself again. He presses forward into the other man's arms, moving a hand to fist in the front of his shirt and pull Lancelot down closer towards him. "I hope that that was a yes," he murmurs, his voice soft and hoarse as he does, before he closes the distance between them.

[knightscode]

Lancelot lets Faolan pull him down and at first -- at first he still is a little hesitant. They've not really kissed properly before, and Lancelot is still trying to accept this idea. Their supposed date has been a disaster, and even though Lancelot did give tacit permission he's not quite as warmed up as Faolan is.

Faolan presses forward and Lancelot's hand fumbles back and slips along the chest of drawers, making him suddenly aware the bottle of lager is still there and probably in danger of being tipped over. The height difference is awkward, too. It makes Lancelot want to turn and heft Faolan up maybe, but that might be... well, Faolan might find the subtle reminder that he's shorter offensive. Would he be sensitive to something like that? He's always grumbled about Lancelot being faster and stronger, so probably height he would too. Didn't he once complain about something like that? The cabinet digs into Lancelot a little as he tries to keep himself steady without much to steady against, and after a moment he breaks the kiss and rests a hand on Faolan's chest.

"Don't make me knock that bottle everywhere," he murmurs, keeping Faolan close by hooking fingers into the fabric of his top. Faolan might feel rejected otherwise, and he's already had a turbulent day of emotions. "Let's go back through?"

Away from Faolan's bedroom, before this turns wild, toward somewhere more comfortable to sit down.

[reticence]

Faolan keeps the kiss simple. He keeps himself from getting too into it, keeps it on the chaster side of a proper kiss. Not wanting to give himself any ideas for that matter. And Lancelot doesn't quite reciprocate, though he doesn't immediately push him away either. Something in the tension coiled within Faolan eases slightly and though he's nervous when Lancelot finally pushes him away, Lancelot's fingers hooked in his shirt to keep him there help him settle a little. Lancelot himself could have been heading for the hills in that moment, and Faolan for one is grateful that he isn't.

He presses his lips together firmly for a moment, nodding in response to the other man's words. "Yeah, alright," he says. And after a moment of awkward hesitation, loosens his grip on Lancelot's shirt himself, stepping back and away from the other man to allow him his own space again. Turning to lead the other man back into the other room with a glance over his shoulder and a gesture towards the sofa once more. Awkwardly, Faolan returns to the refrigerator and fetches himself another lager, trying to recall where they had left their conversation before he had turned it on its head.

The words are out of his mouth before he's given much thought to them either way. "Do you need anything else? I tried to turn the heat up, it should start to kick in soon but let me know if you'd like it warmer..."

[knightscode]

He takes a slow breath to steady himself once Faolan is turned away, pushes off the cabinet and picks up his drink before ambling through to the living room.

"I'm fine, thank you," he answers, flopping down again and sliding his bottle onto the table. After a moment he thinks better of that and picks it up again to drink some. If the entire evening is going to vary between awkward and tense he might need it. "Sit down. I promise I'm fine."

[reticence]

Faolan glances up at the other man uncertainly from across the room but does as he's told. Opening his new lager, he carefully carries it across the room and moves to sit down once more beside the other man. Taking another sip before resting it in his knee. Trying to be calm and casual when he is feeling anything but.

He flicks a tentative smile at the other man before he glances down at his hands in his lap. "Forgive me," he says softly, "though you may not believe me when I say so, I'm not usually so..." He trails off, not knowing quite the word he's looking for. It's true though. Other people haven't had the same effects on him that Lancelot seems to draw out, or if they have it has been so long since he felt this way -- nearly in another life by now -- that he can hardly remember.

He shoots a quick glance up at the other man as he feels the need to elaborate, "I promise that it's not another spell though."

[knightscode]

Lancelot laughs at that, a helpless sort of laugh despite how tired he feels.

"Well, I'm glad about that. It would be awkward for both of us if it was, among other things."

He hadn't even thought about that, truth be told, and as he tries to picture the situation he winces and tags another swig of his drink.

[reticence]

Faolan flicks something of a smile at Lancelot, pleased that he's managed to get a laugh out of him, if nothing else. There have been far too many times when his attempts to lighten the mood have resulted in just puzzling the other man instead after all after all.

He takes another long pull on his drink himself, trying to regain his equilibrium or at least ingest enough alcohol that it doesn't matter anymore. "I think you'd handle it admirably," he replies. "You always seem to, no matter the circumstances. But I'm personally glad myself that such is not the case. Even if it does make things a little bit more complicated..."

[knightscode]

"More complicated?" he prompts, leaning forward to set the bottle on the table and turning toward Faolan a little more. "You think it's more complicated this way? I'd think it the reverse. It'd be more complicated if we'd been through all this only to have to brush it aside."

That, in his opinion, would be complicated. To give in to something only to have to give it up and pretend nothing happened. Lancelot would probably manage it if he had to, Faolan is right in that, but he'd hardly be happy about it. Especially after holding back cautiously for so long.

[reticence]

Faolan glances down at his hands again. Lancelot has a point, after all. To have come so far, for Lancelot to have grown used to the idea, to have accepted it and then even opened himself up to it. It was a lot of change to make, only to have to turn around and attempt to go back to 'the way things were'. As if Faolan can even remember what that was like, before he had started to feel this way.

He chances a glance back up to meet Lancelot's gaze, flicking him another tentative smile as he does. "I suppose that's a good sign then," he says. "That you'd rather this be real than not."

[knightscode]

Lancelot scrunches up his nose at that, studying Faolan.

"Do you think me so cruel I'd let you have this only to wish otherwise?"

He doesn't think Faolan does, truth be told, but if he realises it or not by doubting Lancelot that is the implication. If he didn't want to do this, then he'd be lying or leading Faolan on in some way surely? He'd like to think that seemed at least a little out of character for him.

[reticence]

Faolan turns to be able to look at the other man more properly, shaking his head slightly as he does.

"What I think," he replies, after studying the other man for another moment, "is that I don't believe that you're capable of cruelty. And yet you are also kind. Kinder than I think some of us deserve you to be. And I wouldn't put it past you to make a choice for the benefit of another, even if it is not what you wish. But," he says quickly, before the other man has time to protest one way or the other, "I know that you would have never made such a decision with something like this." He flicks the other man a soft smile before glancing away again, as the weight of his own words settle about him in a moment of realization.

"I am not certain that such a gesture is deserved either," he continues, "yet. I will treasure it nonetheless. Forgive me if I have been..." Well, he knows he could have taken this all a little better.

[knightscode]

Gesture is a funny term for it. Somehow gesture has a gentle implication of effort, that he's deliberately had to go to some exaggerated length in a martyring way.

It doesn't feel like any particular effort, doesn't feel like there's any sort of cost.

"I think you give me too much credit," he says softly, "and yourself not enough. It isn't some grand gesture I'm making. I'm losing nothing here."