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

[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."

[reticence]

Faolan shakes his head slightly as he takes another swig of his drink, before leaning forward and setting it on the table before them. Sitting back against the sofa once more, he purses his lips slightly, obviously fighting with himself a little, before finally he reaches out to take Lancelot's hand. His fingers curling gently around the other man's, tentative, as if not certain he is allowed even this just now.

"It may not feel very grand to you," he says, softly. "But to me, even so much as this..." He tightens his fingers around the other man's gently, before loosening them again. He carefully raises his eyes to meet Lancelot's once more. "It's more than I would have thought I could have. Not from you. You're..." He shrugs slightly, flicking the ghost of a smile at him as he does. "You're Lancelot. Gentle, kind, handsome, loyal. What anyone wouldn't give, for your attentions. What I wouldn't have given myself, as well you know. But after a certain point, I had just thought..." He shrugs slightly, turning his gaze away again. "There is a point where you want something so much that you find yourself driving that thing further and further away."

[knightscode]

Lancelot blinks at that, eyebrows lofting in surprise.

"Forgive me but you hold me to far too high a standard, regard yourself far too low. You are all of those things yourself, and hardly devoid of achievement. You're head of Hillingdon, you've expanded it when nobody before you did. What have I achieved in comparison? We both know Sylvia likes me because I cause her little trouble."

[reticence]

Faolan shakes his head. He doesn't want to argue this, he doesn't want to have to point out how low of an opinion he has of himself. How much trouble he knows he is, how exasperating. Fearful and stubborn and set in his ways as he is. He knows there has to be some reason that Lancelot has kept him around for all this time, and it can't have been just the fact that he has a kind heart for strays. But his personal defects weren't the point he had wanted to make.

"I have ever been my own greatest critic," he replies. "As I'm sure can be said for yourself as well. It's why I'd somewhat convinced myself though that... I didn't have a chance, I suppose," he says, with a shrug. "And why... I probably haven't reacted this evening in quite the way one might have thought, considering how long I've been tailing after you. I just..." He shrugs again, tilting his head to the side slightly, his eyes firmly on their hands and anywhere but looking back up to meet the other man's gaze. "I had convinced myself you would never say yes, I think. So I hope you will forgive me for the fact that it will take a bit of time to instead convince myself that you have."

[knightscode]

Well, he supposes he can understand it being difficult to become used to something you were so convinced was otherwise... Still, Faolan's awkward sort of confessions are something Lancelot doesn't fully know how to reply to. Is there something he should be saying here? He's rather in danger of becoming a broken record if he repeats himself much more.

Opting not to catch himself in that loop, Lancelot instead tugs Faolan forward by their linked hands. Enough that he can drag him close enough to loop an arm around his shoulders.

"You don't need to explain yourself," he says finally. "In fact, it may be better for both of us if you stop trying."

[reticence]

Faolan allows the other man to gently shush him and tug him forward, though he can't help his face from coloring slightly at the gentle reprimanding. Perhaps it would be better for them both if he just stopped trying though.

Tentatively, he leans forward and into the other man's embrace, moving to rest his head on Lancelot's shoulder as he does. He only just holds himself back from apologizing again, and instead decides to simply enjoy the touch. Leaning into the other man and soaking in the warmth he offers. Reveling in the quiet way he always seems to be so certain of himself and his situation, even when Faolan himself on the other hand is tail-spinning around him.

[knightscode]

Lancelot squirms around a little on the sofa so he's leaning more against the arm and tugs Faolan close into his body, tucks him into his side and stifles a slight yawn.

"Having your heating on as well as feeding me alcohol might be a mistake," he murmurs, "two reasons for me to fall asleep. You'll be picking me up off the floor."

[reticence]

Faolan lets himself be gently manhandled closer as the other man moves to lean against the arm of the sofa. After a tentative moment of hesitation, he shifts to make himself a bit more comfortable, fitting his head against Lancelot's shoulder and moving to rest a hand to rest on the other man's chest. Bracing himself against him as much as simply reveling in the touch itself.

"At least I'm not the one putting you to sleep personally," Faolan murmurs, softly. He shifts to be able to look at the other man as he lies against him. "I can cut you off, if you'd rather?"

[knightscode]

"You might with how warm you are," he admits, and shifts to toe off his shoes so he can swing his legs up onto the sofa properly. "Which means you'll have to poke me awake when the food arrives. Luckily I can't reach my drink from here now anyway without pushing you off."

Which he doesn't particularly feel like doing. His lips twitch in amusement.

"I don't think I ever pictured you as the cuddling type. I suppose I assumed you tolerated it from me."

[reticence]

Faolan flushes slightly, turning his face into the other man's shoulder even though Lancelot probably wouldn't be able to see it anyway, from this angle. How to respond, to an observation like that? To some extent, he's not wrong, he isn't much of a cuddling person. Not as far as the average person is concerned, at any rate. But Lancelot?

"I used to be a lot of things," Faolan admits, softly. A cuddler included. A man with a softer heart and gentler ambitions. In another life... It's not that he doesn't like this, that he doesn't want this. It just doesn't come naturally anymore. A lot of things that used to be a constant in his life don't seem to come naturally anymore. But that doesn't mean that he's forgotten them. "I don't think anyone who knew me before London would picture me as I am now either, really."

He shits to glance up at the other man again. "I'm not about to offer free hugs to any random passerby but. That doesn't mean I don't like this. With you..." He shrugs his free shoulder slightly, the one he isn't leaning against Lancelot himself.