Why the hell not. Johnny.inspnickangelApril 21 2009, 12:14:47 UTC
Nicholas knows he should be at home right now, but he isn't. Coming off of a double shift, home is really the last place he wants to be.
He doesn't particularly want to get drunk, either, but here he is, a glass of red held lightly in his hand as he steps up to the window next to the young man dressed in all black.
"Fascinating," he says, loudly enough to be heard, but quietly enough to be to himself.
[OOC: I'm not sure if you're familiar with this character, but if you are, he's an alternate reality version of him, where he never left London. If you're not, disregard.
Re: Why the hell not. Johnny.inspnickangelApril 21 2009, 21:50:55 UTC
Nicholas looks over at the man, getting a good, proper look at him. He can practically hear Janine in the background somewhere, telling him to switch off.
A few moments later, he looks away and with his free hand, pressing his fingers to the window. "I don't think you could if you wanted to," he says slowly.
Nicholas listens to the man as he takes a small drink of his wine.
"I think it's like Piccadilly. Everything's so big, that it looks like you can just walk there in a few steps. But really, it's quite far."
He can't help but laugh a little. He never did get bored with the tourists that seemed to think London was still going to be some tiny little Shakespeare village.
Nicholas spends a few moments wondering if he should be worried. But with that accent... this guy's American. They're all like that, aren't they; all guns and fast food and violent telly.
"You're not supposed to have those here, I thought," he says instead.
He doesn't particularly want to get drunk, either, but here he is, a glass of red held lightly in his hand as he steps up to the window next to the young man dressed in all black.
"Fascinating," he says, loudly enough to be heard, but quietly enough to be to himself.
[OOC: I'm not sure if you're familiar with this character, but if you are, he's an alternate reality version of him, where he never left London. If you're not, disregard.
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[ooc: I'm not, sadly, but thanks for the heads-up anyway!]
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A few moments later, he looks away and with his free hand, pressing his fingers to the window. "I don't think you could if you wanted to," he says slowly.
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He laughs, seemingly apropos of nothing. "Looks like dying."
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"I think it's like Piccadilly. Everything's so big, that it looks like you can just walk there in a few steps. But really, it's quite far."
He can't help but laugh a little. He never did get bored with the tourists that seemed to think London was still going to be some tiny little Shakespeare village.
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Best not to think too hard about whether or not that analogy even makes sense.
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"You're not supposed to have those here, I thought," he says instead.
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"What? Guns? Are you crazy? Of course I don't carry a gun!"
Only crazies do that, you know.
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He'd never admit it to anybody, but he does miss it sometimes.
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He's waving his hand in front of his face, in fact.
"You can see me? Really?"
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"Yes," he says simply. "You're right here. I can see you."
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He makes the infamous 'bear about to strike' pose and grins. (his teeth, they're quite pointy.)
"What about now? Huh?!?"
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He watches Johnny for a few moments more before turning back to the window.
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Then there is a very loud noise. It's the sound of Johnny smashing a chair against the wall.
...Poor chair.
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