[Ari's sitting in a small cafe, sipping a hot chocolate out of a large mug that wants to represent the Starbucks logo, but very obviously does not. She doesn't really know why she's there, but she likes to watch it snow outside and see people bustle past the window, bundled up in clothes that are trying to keep them warm.
Then she's watching other people in the cafe, their expressions, their behaviors. Winter did things to people. Sometimes she likes to think that it makes them kinder, because everyone is looking for warmth.]
[ One of the few things Feather enjoys about the city is the cold. He likes the way the storefront windows become hazy with frost and the harsh chill of metal door handles and lampposts. That doesn't stop him from bundling up, though. In fact, it gives him a reason to wear the large brown faux fur coat Joy left at his house the day before.
When Feather enters the cafe, he doesn't make a beeline to the counter like a good patron would. Instead, he scans the room for an available seat and spots one - at Ari's table. With little to no hesitation, he moves to her table and tugs back an empty chair, gracelessly flopping on it and setting the little packet of cookies on the table. He doesn't know her and he doesn't seem to take that fact into consideration at all. Shrugging out of the coat, he straightens his white tank top and nudges the cookies towards Ari as an offering with a small smile. ]
Do you mind? [ His question is clear and curious, but his gaze is directed towards the window. He could be asking about his company or the weather
( ... )
[Ari blinks over at Feather, looking rather surprised. Usually people around town weren't so friendly with one another if they didn't know someone. She leans back in her chair, cupping her mug a bit more to feel its heat.]
Uh, nope.
[Her tone is light, but she's obviously a little suspicious of him. Glancing down to the cookies, her suspicion falters, and a small smile makes its way across her face. She can't help herself, so she helps herself, taking a rather large bite out of one of the cookies.]
[ Feather watches a woman attempt to cross the street, heels far to high for the ice on the pavement. When she reaches the curb, one of her ankles buckles and she's forced to catch herself by grabbing the sleeve of a man passing by, minding his own business. As if on cue, the action catches him by surprise and they both end up sprawled on the sidewalk. The only difference is the man is laughing and the woman isn't. At all. ]
She seems to. [ Feather smiles - a bright smile that reaches his eyes - and returns his attention to Ari, obviously pleased she's helped herself to the cookies. ] Do you like it?
Cold. Bitter. Made everything less interesting. It's always quiet and without much excitement at all, besides people hurrying to buy gifts and trees and all of the things that Holmes could do, but will do last minute, because that's just how he does things.
Currently, he's sitting on a bench outside, bundled up in a coat and smoking a pipe. Maybe he'll go inside, maybe he won't. He doesn't know what he'll do just yet, but he always finds a way to do something.]
[ Watson never fools himself into thinking he's sneaking up on Holmes. If nothing else, the cane and limp always give him away, even without the crunch of snow beneath his feet. He draws his coat tighter about himself as he sits down, breath puffing white in the cold air. ]
Shall I cart you inside to thaw now, or wait till you've frozen through?
[Drake was used to the seasons by now -- he didn't really want to deal with them per-se, but he was used to them. Eight hundred years did that. They made him deal with it. So he did. He couldn't alter them, but some part of him enjoyed the cold. It gave him an excuse to steal coats that he got rid of promptly as soon as spring came around the corner.
He's in a shop, browsing through a nice coat rack, picking some out and trying them on. If he doesn't like it, he'll take it off and move on to the next.]
[He is a visitor to human places sometimes, maybe not as frequently as some of his brothers, but Dar wears his human shape and travels over to the first town he finds when loneliness strikes. Too proud to ask for company, too indulgent not to seek it, he hangs around and observes and sometimes he tries their clothes. They're all too big for his little frame, though, unless he looks at a section targeting another age group. That is not a solution that will be crossing his mind any time soon.]
[Drake seems to perk up when he feels someone around him. He glances over to Dar, observing him for a few moments before making his way over to him. He's wearing a nice wool coat that he plans to steal, but no one has to know that.]
[He stands at 4'8 as a boy, big dark eyes glancing up to make sure he's the one being addressed.
(There's something about his eyes -- too big, too dark, something edging away from human.)
Dar considers with neutral lips, fingers still curled around the hem, sleeves folded with the excess of fabric. He looks back down to slide them off his arms.]
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Then she's watching other people in the cafe, their expressions, their behaviors. Winter did things to people. Sometimes she likes to think that it makes them kinder, because everyone is looking for warmth.]
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When Feather enters the cafe, he doesn't make a beeline to the counter like a good patron would. Instead, he scans the room for an available seat and spots one - at Ari's table. With little to no hesitation, he moves to her table and tugs back an empty chair, gracelessly flopping on it and setting the little packet of cookies on the table. He doesn't know her and he doesn't seem to take that fact into consideration at all. Shrugging out of the coat, he straightens his white tank top and nudges the cookies towards Ari as an offering with a small smile. ]
Do you mind? [ His question is clear and curious, but his gaze is directed towards the window. He could be asking about his company or the weather ( ... )
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Uh, nope.
[Her tone is light, but she's obviously a little suspicious of him. Glancing down to the cookies, her suspicion falters, and a small smile makes its way across her face. She can't help herself, so she helps herself, taking a rather large bite out of one of the cookies.]
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She seems to. [ Feather smiles - a bright smile that reaches his eyes - and returns his attention to Ari, obviously pleased she's helped herself to the cookies. ] Do you like it?
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Cold. Bitter. Made everything less interesting. It's always quiet and without much excitement at all, besides people hurrying to buy gifts and trees and all of the things that Holmes could do, but will do last minute, because that's just how he does things.
Currently, he's sitting on a bench outside, bundled up in a coat and smoking a pipe. Maybe he'll go inside, maybe he won't. He doesn't know what he'll do just yet, but he always finds a way to do something.]
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Shall I cart you inside to thaw now, or wait till you've frozen through?
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Both.
[A pause.]
You could have brought me some tea, Watson, if you were so worried about me.
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[ Which is partly true. And partly Watson's refusal to bring out any sort of supplies that may prolong Holmes' presence on this bench. ]
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He's in a shop, browsing through a nice coat rack, picking some out and trying them on. If he doesn't like it, he'll take it off and move on to the next.]
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You should try something smaller.
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(There's something about his eyes -- too big, too dark, something edging away from human.)
Dar considers with neutral lips, fingers still curled around the hem, sleeves folded with the excess of fabric. He looks back down to slide them off his arms.]
I can't find anything smaller.
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