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ghoulaid) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
undergrounds2017-01-03 07:15 pm
ghoulaid) wrote in undergrounds2017-01-03 07:15 pm
[ota]
1. PEST CONTROL (random street encounters/OPEN)
The day is nicer than Ghoul expected. A little cloudy, but not as bitterly cold or ice-hazardous as he assumed London would be. Still, he's bundled up in at least a couple layers of clothes because, frankly, fuck anything below 60 degrees. He looks a little comical, plodding along the sidewalk in his ridiculous puffy coat, a scarf devouring half his face, and a small dog prancing around his heels.
Wait, what the fuck.
Ghoul's partway down the block before he realizes he has company. It's a tiny, ugly thing in a fucking sweater that yaps whenever he stops to look at it, and it won't go away. No matter what shooing and direction-changing techniques he uses against it, it's still right there, lunging after him with its yipping and bouncing gradually increasing in intensity. He normally doesn't have this not-listening issue with dogs, being a werewolf and all. He's like the king of dogs, okay, but this little bastard has balls of steel beneath that lavender argyle. And that just won't do.
He backtracks, confronting anyone who may be even be remotely responsible for the animal- people sitting outside cafes, lingering in a group somewhere, on a bench, waiting for a crosswalk signal. Everyone in the area will, eventually, have him storm up and ask, "Is this yours?" while pointing at the pastel abomination below.
2. THIS IS MINE NOW (coffee shop/OPEN)
Ghoul had specifically waited for evening to roll around before hitting up this little coffee place, hoping to avoid a rush. Fail on that count. From what he can gather, 5PM is a great time to huddle around in shops and wait for traffic to fuck off.
He sees the logic in it now, but that doesn't mean he appreciates it. Not when he's stuck in a small crowd of too-close bodies clumped around the pickup area and waiting for his order to be called. There are a few names shouted in rapid succession soon enough, including the fake one he'd given the cashier. In his haste to get out of there, he grabs a cup from the almost entirely identical line of them, then makes off with it without a second glance.
It's not his order after all, but whatever. He'll figure that out at some point.
[ or pm/pp/throw your own starter at me! ]
The day is nicer than Ghoul expected. A little cloudy, but not as bitterly cold or ice-hazardous as he assumed London would be. Still, he's bundled up in at least a couple layers of clothes because, frankly, fuck anything below 60 degrees. He looks a little comical, plodding along the sidewalk in his ridiculous puffy coat, a scarf devouring half his face, and a small dog prancing around his heels.
Wait, what the fuck.
Ghoul's partway down the block before he realizes he has company. It's a tiny, ugly thing in a fucking sweater that yaps whenever he stops to look at it, and it won't go away. No matter what shooing and direction-changing techniques he uses against it, it's still right there, lunging after him with its yipping and bouncing gradually increasing in intensity. He normally doesn't have this not-listening issue with dogs, being a werewolf and all. He's like the king of dogs, okay, but this little bastard has balls of steel beneath that lavender argyle. And that just won't do.
He backtracks, confronting anyone who may be even be remotely responsible for the animal- people sitting outside cafes, lingering in a group somewhere, on a bench, waiting for a crosswalk signal. Everyone in the area will, eventually, have him storm up and ask, "Is this yours?" while pointing at the pastel abomination below.
2. THIS IS MINE NOW (coffee shop/OPEN)
Ghoul had specifically waited for evening to roll around before hitting up this little coffee place, hoping to avoid a rush. Fail on that count. From what he can gather, 5PM is a great time to huddle around in shops and wait for traffic to fuck off.
He sees the logic in it now, but that doesn't mean he appreciates it. Not when he's stuck in a small crowd of too-close bodies clumped around the pickup area and waiting for his order to be called. There are a few names shouted in rapid succession soon enough, including the fake one he'd given the cashier. In his haste to get out of there, he grabs a cup from the almost entirely identical line of them, then makes off with it without a second glance.
It's not his order after all, but whatever. He'll figure that out at some point.
[ or pm/pp/throw your own starter at me! ]
no subject
He knows the muddy feeling though. It usually happens if he's caught of guard, but he's trained himself enough to get used to the feeling. It helps that that's everything when he's in his other form, so he's used to it now.
no subject
But that also has something to do with his habit of trying too hard, which is just as bad as not trying at all. If he'd relax more and stop overcompensating so much, he'd see more success.
Maybe one day. Today is not that day. "Better leave it to the professional. So no fuckin' around, we're counting on you."
no subject
Probably not another shapeshifter then, as those abilities tended to manifest relatively early. Still, he closed his eyes again, focusing in on the strong perfume and ignoring the rest, though it was hard and his nose tickled. Nothing more frustrating than trying to ignore a sneeze.
"We keep going this way, then I think it turns to the left."
no subject
He nods at the directions, making sure to keep Sirius at the edge of his sight so he'll know when to turn.
no subject
Seemed a fair range, given the way the supernatural community worked. With immortals running around, their definition always seemed to be different.
Sirius pauses at the corner, considering for a bit before making the turn.
"Think we're almost there."
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After taking the turn, he's beginning to feel a bit antsy. This damn dog has taken up a decent portion of his day, it'll be nice to get the situation resolved finally. But Sirius himself is a bit of a loose end... "Do you charge for this sort of thing, or?" Surely he's not helping just for the sake of being nice.
no subject
"Not really," he says finally, "But now that you've given me the idea, I'll settle for a favour. House is just up ahead."
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He keeps glancing forward, stuck on a particular building. He suspects that's the one they want, but he doesn't say so- just in case he's wrong.
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"I'll let you know when I need one," he replies finally. With the kind of grin that says everything and nothing at the same time. He is going to take full advantage of the fact that someone owes him something.
He pauses, pointing at a slightly gaudy looking house.
"Pretty sure it's that one. At the very least, the sweater wouldn't look out of place there."
no subject
One well worth it, though. The door is eventually answered by a teary-eyed lady, there's all kinds of commotion, and everything is squared away after a couple minutes. Once the dog is safely inside and the door is shut again, Ghoul flings his arms up in victory and excitedly hops in place for a split second before remembering there are motherfucking witnesses around. Immediately, he sticks his arms back down to his sides, turns around, and makes his way stiffly back down the steps to Sirius.
"So, uh. Yep. Go team."
no subject
Back to a world of strong scents and gaudy clothing. He almost pities the poor thing.
"That was a nice dance, by the way."
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Turns out he's dead wrong. Ghoul hisses between clenched teeth, turning away from him moodily. "And you can go fuck yourself." Poor baby.
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"Did she just take the dog back?"
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The lady is a much safer topic. "Yeah," he says casually, rocking back on his heels. "She seemed nice." Nice enough for a posh space case... "She also told me to tell my dad thank you, too." Now it's his turn to smirk and stifle a laugh.
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"Touche," he replies, shaking his head. Did he really look that old?
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And Ghoul finds it wonderful. He laughs loudly, because he's a vindictive little shit, but he's not entirely terrible. He at least tries to reassure Sirius after he's gotten his fair share of entertainment. "It's just the coat. Maybe the hair, too. You were standing sort of far away, I don't think her eyesight was great."
no subject
Okay, yes, he was a tad scruffy, but that was his look. And he didn't exactly have the bank account to change that up much. Outside of cleaning up for the few events he attended.
"In the event that you find more ridiculous dogs to return home."
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"That ate up like half my day, I can't afford to do that shit for free." His schedule's all thrown off now, but he still starts walking, figuring he'll use the rest of the afternoon to... go... somewhere. Hell, he'll figure something out.
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"Well, consider it good karma or something."
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It can go down as his good deed for the year. And yeah, maybe that karma thing. Speaking of... "Say, you wanna consider this your good karma?"
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He was not one to let something like that go. And while he could probably use some good karma, he'd find it elsewhere.