feigns | ► one → video/action。

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► one → video/action。

[There’s a teenager!

He’s wet, in something of a ‘I’m going to ignore how much of a drowned rat I appear’ way. One might assume that he fell into the fountain at some point, but equally, the all-encompassing wetness may have something to do with the fact that he was just in England, aka the land of copious amounts of tea-and-rain. His expression, for the record, reflects his irritation at being displaced without warning, frustration from trying to get whatever this might be to work (he's not entirely convinced it is), and curiosity. You know, at the whole ‘suddenly displaced, this isn’t London’ thing. It’s hard not to wonder about something like that.

When he finally speaks, he sounds Remarkably British, although his accent is rather indistinct for the most part – southern, one might assume, well-brought up, although there’s a slight hint of Welsh. No, he doesn’t do anything untoward with sheep. London doesn't have sheep.]

Normally, one only has to ask for my company to be granted with it. [This? This would be the unmistakable tone of `GRUMPINESS`.] I do try to make myself available for all, but it can’t be helped if someone misses out here and there. Kidnapping tends not to be the answer, though. If I said I was impressed, I’d sadly be lying, but if it makes you feel any better, you can pretend I’m of that opinion regardless. Likewise, I think you’ll find you’ve managed to overshoot ‘mysterious’.

[There’s a pause, and for a moment, there’s a flash of wry amusement in his expression, as if this entire scenario is utterly ridiculous to the point of absurdity.] “I wonder if I've been changed in the night? Was I the same when I got up this morning? I almost think I can remember feeling a little different. But if I'm not the same, the next question is 'Who in the world am I?'” I hope you won’t mind if I happen to refuse any bottles labelled ‘drink me’, or any foods labelled ‘eat me’. I’m quite content with who I am and don’t envision any existential crises a la dear Alice.

I won't decline any explanations, though, even if they happen to come from hatters and caterpillars and assorted small mammals with a fondness for tea and an inability to correctly tell the time.

[There’s another pause, and after he glances away from the device and up at the sky, he shoves the device into a pocket – without, for the record, bothering to turn it off, so have fun with the sound of footsteps and the wonderful blackness of pockets until the device times out.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Momentary hesitation because-- 'downlowed'?]

I've been given a guide and told to exercise my imagination.

That depends on how good your imagination is. And what you were supposed to exercise it over.

The guide is helpful. Questions, comments? I have a mocha. I'm good for the answering.

Also, Buffy.

Exceptionally good; books, and creatures envisioned within their depths.

I haven't got round to reading it yet. [People keep talking at him, and he's yet to meet any of them. NEVERTHELESS, he pauses, eyeing her cup for a moment.] Do mochas and Buffys tend to help with 'the answering'? Should I arm myself with them on the off-chance I'm expected to do some of the answering down the line?

[...He may or may not be gently taking the piss.]

[He gets a beaming smile] The mochas and the Buffy definitely tend to help with the answering. [The thing about screwing up syntax and occasionally speaking of yourself in the third person is you don't REALIZE when people don't get that Buffy is your name. Not a state of being or...whatever it is he thinks Buffy is.]

I can even play tour guide if you want. Still at the fountain?

[His lips quirk a little at her smile.] Then I'll have to make sure I'm acquainted with them in some shape or form.

I can be.

I'll bring you a mocha. Give me five minutes.

[And she tucks the video in her bag so she can order the extra mocha and head toward the fountain. He's probably seeing the inside of a purse with lipstick, compact, a bottle of holy water, an extra stake--you know, girl stuff.]

[It didn't take Will too long to walk back to the fountain, and he perched on a bench to wait for Buffy. He was yet to come across anyone he was familiar with -- for better or worse -- and whilst he was beginning to dry off somewhat adequately, he was still somewhere around the 'uncomfortably damp' phase of things.]

[Oh good. He'll appreciate the hot mocha. Buffy comes around the corner, two paper cups with plastic lids on them in hand. She smiles brightly when she sees William sitting on the bench and approaches him, holding the mocha out as she does.]

William, right? If not, don't touch the mocha. It's spoken for.

[He glances up at the sound of approaching footsteps, and flashes the (ever so mildly) familiar blonde a smile in response before standing up to greet her.]

I could be lying; you have just offered me a free drink and a name to go by.

[That was, 'yes'.]

I'd consider it my good deed for the day. [She passes over the mocha.]

Fountain. Arrival point for a lot of people. Otherwise...just a fountain. Carousel over there. Extra creepy. Sometimes the animals come alive and attack.

Giving a drink to a liar is a good deed? [Nevertheless, he takes the cup and wraps his fingers around it, savouring the warmth for a few moments before returning his attention to Buffy.]

So I ought to be on the look out for rampaging wooden animals?

Giving hot coffee to a very damp liar is a good deed.

[She purses her lips and shrugs] They haven't rampaged in a while but it's always a good idea. Especially at night.

Perhaps I ought to get wet more often, if this is what I get out of it.

[He glances in the direction of the carousel for a moment.] I'll keep it in mind.

[She grins a little, not entirely sure if he's flirting or just being matter of fact] Hey, no guarantees that anyone else will feel the need to do good deeds.

[She points out a row of shops across the street]

Coffee, cafe, things like that are over there. Everything is pretty central to this area. There's a garden over that way. [Pointing another direction] And the main apartments circle the carousel. Did anyone tell you about the ticking?

[He shrugs loosely, expression briefly contemplative.] I've been assured pity if I happen to need it. I'm sure that can extend to good deeds.

[He nods as she points out the various buildings, before looking back at her as she mentions the ticking, curiosity evident.] No.

You probably haven't been here long enough to hear it. The clock, it ticks in your head unless you spend time with people. Or animals for some reason. Anyway, the point being, the City doesn't want us to get lonely so room mates are good because ticking...more maddening than one would think.

[He's momentarily quiet, fingers tapping against the cup in his hands.] That sounds rather quaint.

The ticking part or the forcing you to make friends part? [She asks with her head tilted and a curious look on her face.]

The friends part. [He smiles slightly.] I'm not sure 'quaint' would be the best way to describe incessant ticking. Atmospheric, perhaps, if one was feeling kind, otherwise I should imagine 'irritating' would be the word used.

Agreed. Some people are masochists though. [And moving on. She points to an entrance that looks a bit like a a subway entrance or a tunnel entrance.] That would be one of the entrances to the Underground. It's creepy, has monsters and shouldn't be attempted without weapons and an idea of how to use them. There are defined paths that as long as you stay on them you...are probably okay. But care should be of the full kind.

[He turns his attention in the direction she's pointing, vague curiosity and a hint of amusement evident in his expression.] I always take the utmost care, so you need not worry.

[It was a blatant lie, of course.]

Right. [She smirks back at him.] The City takes care of you for a month rent and food wise. After that, you need money. If you're a minor they give you an allowance. [She pauses and looks at William critically.]

Are you?

How kind of it. [The remark's dry in tone, and he glances away from her for a moment. After a moment, though, he notices her look, and he blinks at her for a moment, a slow smile spreading across her lips.] What does the city class as a minor?

Under eighteen. If you're eighteen they cut the cord, shove you out in the cold and tell you to have fun.

Well not exactly but sort of.

Then I get to indulge in being bone idle for a little while longer.

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