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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.]
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.]
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Different worlds. For a moment, it managed to slip my mind.
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[ooc; daaaaarling, i gotta sleep for a bit. so i shall bbl but your will is wonderful. <333]
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(ooc: sleep well! and thank you ♥ your ginny's absolutely fab, too, btw)
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[Now, this innocent curiosity isn't feigned at all.]
What d'you study?
[ooc; thank you! also, good morning. |D]
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Anything he deemed important: French, Latin, history, mathematics, the Classics. [He exhales audibly, as if thinking.] I've also been taught to dance, the art of flower arranging, how to play a particularly brilliant game of charades. [A beat and he shrugs.] Although I do generally end up lying.
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Most people don't admit that. So I suppose I'm to question half the things you tell me? [She lets out a soft, amused huff of breath.] Nothing new to me.
[The redheaded witch studies him a moment then adds,]
And for the record, I learned 'the usual' too. The specifics came later, and now that could mean anything.
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[He lets out a quiet hum of consideration.]
I've also been told I'm a bad liar, so there is that. I simply prefer to take refuge in audacity; it's far more interesting.
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[Ginny props her chin in hand and leans in a little to the camera, an intrigued grin tugging at her lips.]
Audacity because it's interesting. And I thought that was just me and my brothers.
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And it just so happens that I'm a very good dancer, so I'd be able to make up for your poor showing.
It's never just one person or a select few, Miss Weasley. The world at large likes to remind people that they're never quite as special as they'd like to believe.
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[And then Ginny rolls her eyes good-naturedly.]
Or maybe just you? It was a joke, mate. And for Merlin's sake, don't call me Miss Weasley, I feel like I'm talking to a professor. Ginny'll do me fine, it always has. Unless you'd rather I call you Mr Herondale?
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It wouldn't bother me what you called me. And if it were just me, I truly would be special, wouldn't I? An awkward situation wherein the universe tries to remove me of my ego and simultaneously proves its worth.
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Yes, but I'm asking you. There's no need to look like you've swallowed stinksap.
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The people I live with call me Will, people who dislike me tend to call me William, and everyone else tends to call me Mr. Herondale. As I said: I don't particularly care. There are occasionally people who fit in between, but they tend to move to the 'dislike' camp fairly quickly.
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I wonder why.
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Not all of us can be as observant as you, I suppose. Besides, I wouldn't want to be rude.
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The burdens one must bear.
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The details are always different, though. Also, you're a bit of a prat.
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I've been called worse.
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And I've met worse.
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In that case, I shall have to try harder.
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[A pause.]
—Will.
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