(Untitled)

[almost_arabian]

((OOM: Things improveThere is a rather stunned looking man standing in the doorway of Milliways. He hasn't seen the place for almost a year and a half and it's ... exactly as he remembered it to be, even if he spent quite a bit of time insisting to himself that it could have been some elaborate hallucination

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[not_one_drop]

Mal was just coming in from the lake, hair slightly damp and in her face, when she spotted him.

And the next thing Lawrence gets is an armful of excited vampire, not even speaking, just hugging.

[almost_arabian]

And if he flinches a tad, it's because he's not had an armful of excited vampire in a very long time and he's forgotten quite how strong they are.

Then he looks down, half-smirking.

[not_one_drop]

"ImissedyouandyouweregoneandParkergavemesnugglesandyouweregonebutyoucamebackandyou'reback"

Or at least, that's what it sounds like. Never mind that he's been gone only a couple days, she missed him.

[almost_arabian]

To be fair, it's been longer for him.

He arches a brow down at her and then pauses, considering. "And just how long was I gone for....Mal?" See, he remembers her name. Mostly.

[dragonofgrey]

This one hadn't known he had left, and it had only been a few days for him. Though his current reading material certainly attested to their last conversation. The Oxford Companion to Military History was the current book of choice at the moment, though likely be hard to tell the title from this angle.

Interesting couple of days obviously since Draco's back was facing toward Lawrence. And it seemed somebody thought it was amusing to stick a message on his back. So across the robes, it was written, 'I WISH I HAD A WAND TO PLAY WITH.'

[almost_arabian]

"...do you, now?"

He arches a brow and steps into the doorway. No, he doesn't for the life of him remember this one's name - oh well. He did remember something vague about atomic bombs.

So he walks forward so as to sit some distance away from Draco to try and get a better look at the title of the book he's reading.

[dragonofgrey]

Draco turned the pages, particularly engrossed in the 20th century section. He blinked as he stared at something.

He then turned to look, hearing a voice.

"Oh, you again...what the Merlin happened to you?"

[almost_arabian]

There's a pause.

"Motor biking." It's mostly the truth - but it doesn't explain his misbuttoned shirt. That's simply because he ... can't button his shirt correctly for the life of him.

Perhaps it's got something to do with how much time he spent in robes - but he did have a problem with keeping his uniform tidy before that.

[misterparker]

"Nope," Parker says, and give Lawrence a curious look.

[almost_arabian]

"That's a shame."

There's a fleeting grin while he tries very, very hard to remember everything about Parker.

He remembers most about Parker and Mal, at any rate.

[misterparker]

Parker pouts a little. It's somewhat sarcastic though, when he says, "Forgotten me? I'm shocked."

[almost_arabian]

The pouting is quite adorable, Lawrence admits.

He might even lean in and kiss the corner of Parker's mouth with a smirk.

"I do so often go about kissing complete strangers, Parker."

[yuppie_trash]

(flick-click-snap)

He should have cut his losses and ride the high elsewhere. But he is here and he feels that there is an army marching through his bloodstream with spike (stiletto) heeled combat boots. He smokes, tapping the cigar against the edge of the table. Ash sloughs off, making a small cone.

(flick-click-snap)

The lighter in his right hand.

[almost_arabian]

"That's a terrible waste of lighter fluid, you know."

He sits down - misbuttoned and dusty - some distance from Patrick, eyeing the cigar. He'd never been a fan of cigars, but Winnie had a penchant for them.

[yuppie_trash]

"Nothing is ever a terrible waste if you can buy more of it, Mr. Law-rence." Placidly replied, distant, floating on a cloud. His eyes are hidden behind the black mirrored sunglasses--showing nothing--reflecting everything.

(flick-click-spark. a flare of a blue flame.)

Sucks on the cigar, puffs out, flicks ash in such a relaxed manner. Bleached blond strands of hair are in disarray, out of place. So high he doesn't care. "That was fine coke. Do you like drugs, Mr. Lawerence?"

[almost_arabian]

"I have felt very little need for them in my life. There are much more satisfying ways of producing adrenaline, Mr. Bate-man."

He's not a very good mimic, but it doesn't matter too much. He is curious now. "Although I can assume that you are interested in such things."

[bad_as_he_is]

It seems that Lawrence has a young boy wrapped about his waist. He's rather insistant in NOT LETTING GO.

[almost_arabian]

Lawrence is rather insistent on at least settling his hand into Tom's hair and stroking.

"Hello, Tom." He definitely remembers him.

[bad_as_he_is]

And Tom looks up, very afronted.

"What was all that with the note?"

[almost_arabian]

There's blinking before he recalls that he was only gone a few days Bar-Time.

"Well, I hadn't wanted to worry you."