House call (Yes, another Frenchman - and an introduction...)

[doctor_pascal]

The carriage stops in front of the Mansion, and a man, in his mid-twenties, walks up the steps. His hair is unkempt, he is sporting a stubble, and a rare thing for a man of the 19th century, he does not wear a hat. He looks around with curious eyes, frowns, and knocks on the door.

His horses and carriage have stopped and await him - he never did

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[deadlydanvers]

Clay comes banging out the front door, looking very annoyed and therefore unaware of the growl in the back of his throat. He's figured out that he can't get away by now, and boy is he not happy about it.

He stops short upon noticing the man, blinks once, and then says shortly, "I don't suppose you're supposed to be here."

[deadlydanvers]

He comes striding over, keeping one eye on the horses, and examines the carriage briefly before stepping into it.

[doctor_pascal]

The horse frets a little, but it is both old and stout - the kind of calm and serene beast you would find in Plassans. Pascal frowns, soothes the animal with a click of the tongue, and it settles, though its ears are still set down in evident discomfort.

“I don’t believe I got your name,” he says, amiably. “Pascal Rougon.”

[deadlydanvers]

"Clayton Danvers," And he does offer a hand to shake, that is quite calloused as though from hard work, though in a curious pattern.

[doctor_pascal]

Pascal shakes it, and notices that - he can be horribly distracted for somethings, and very aware for others, particularly those that have to do with the human body and it's health and physiology.

"Well met." A curt nod. He lets go the handshake, and with a small tap, sets the horse to move. "Any particular direction?"

[deadlydanvers]

Clay shrugs. "It doesn't matter."

He tried all of them.

[doctor_pascal]

"Then against the sun," he says, without any particular reason. He heads the horse that way.

"Danvers, that's English, is it not?"

[deadlydanvers]

"New York," he grunts, in answer to the question.

[doctor_pascal]

"Oh, New England. Forgive me." A pause. "The United States of America, aye?"

[deadlydanvers]

Clay shoots him a sideways look. "Yeah." And seems to realize that his clothing's a little odd. "Do all Frenchmen dress like that?"

He does have a distinct drawl, but it's not something Pascal will likely recognize.

[doctor_pascal]

Maybe just a little.

"That explains the accent. That other chap sounded quite different."

He looks at himself.

"I'm more laid back about my attire than most." Smugly.

[deadlydanvers]

Clay's eyebrows shoot up. He himself is wearing his usual, jeans and a white t-shirt, with perhaps a light jacket on top, nothing fancy at all.

"The 'other guy?'" A twitch of his shoulders. "It's Southern."

[doctor_pascal]

"Admetus. He offered me a glass of water." A chuckle. He was nice - but Pascal couldn't place him at all.

[deadlydanvers]

Clay blinks, surprised. "That's an odd name to choose for a kid. Don't hear it often."

Because he's thinking of Greek Mythology.

[doctor_pascal]

He's probably right. But it's another Rougon who would think of that.

"Indeed. It sounds latin, in fact."

[deadlydanvers]

"Greek, actually," Clay says, and there's a bit of a touch of the tone of giving a speech in his voice. "One of the Argonauts, known for his exceptional hospitality. One of the less famous ones."