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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
"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."
no subject
Turns out he's dead wrong. Ghoul hisses between clenched teeth, turning away from him moodily. "And you can go fuck yourself." Poor baby.
no subject
"Did she just take the dog back?"
no subject
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.
no subject
"Touche," he replies, shaking his head. Did he really look that old?
no subject
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."
no subject
"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.
no subject
"Well, consider it good karma or something."
no subject
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?"
no subject
He was not one to let something like that go. And while he could probably use some good karma, he'd find it elsewhere.