awake on my airplane, my skin is theirs

[theydidnothing]

Standing in the middle of one of Xanadu's city streets is a young man with rigid posture, wide eyes, and a camera phone. Despite the movement going on around him he remains in one place and holds up his phone to document his new surroundings in video. It's different here, not nearly as busy as back home and Simon is amazed that no one has yet

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[breaks4grannies]

Nathan is out and about, surveying his new home. He could get used to this place - free drinks and lots of random people. Going back to his coffin is not something he even wants to think about.

However, it is sort of lonely in Xanadu for the misfit. He misses Kelly slapping him. He misses Alisha's tits. Hell, he even misses Curtis's look of disgust. And Barry? Well, he -

"Weird Kid?!"

[theydidnothing]

Simon blinks. First he looks through the viewfinder in his phone, then he tilts his head sideways to make sure what he thinks is Nathan is still there. The last time he had seen the other misfit was under much more unpleasant circumstances.

He blinks again and stares straight ahead without moving. "Are you a ghost?"

[breaks4grannies]

"No, I'm not a ghost! I'm immortal!"

Why, yes, Nathan is excited to finally have someone he can gloat to about finding out his power. "I woke up in my casket. You dicks buried me ALIVE! Six feet under - fucking six feet under!"

Looking rather like a terrier high on crack, Nathan bounds over to Simon. Sure, Weird Kid is his least favorite but he is someone to insult and boss around that Nathan knows. Did this mean the others could come here? Awesome!

[theydidnothing]

"I suppose that makes sense," Simon replies to the news of Nathan's invisibility. When the other bounds over to him Simon flinches and takes a single step to the side. He's glad that Nathan isn't dead, but he isn't exactly happy to be insulted.

"When did you get here?" The question is addressed to the ground and as a result is somewhat muffled.

[daturainherited]

Helena's halfway past Simon before she realizes he's been recording people- her, too, tossing her hair as she moved down the sidewalk to explore her surroundings with wondering eyes. She stops, turns, and considers him, eyebrows raised.

"Are you...filming people?" Lancashire (rural Lancashire) accent, posh London girl clothes, one hand on her hip, head tilted to the side. She doesn't sound upset, just curious.

[theydidnothing]

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." He fumbles with his phone, hands making jerky movements to shut it off and stuff it in his pocket. It doesn't register that she isn't upset, most people usually are.

Simon looks up again, doing his best to make eye contact. "Do... do you need to see if I deleted everything?" He takes the camera back out of his pocket and extends his arm, holding it out to Helena.

[daturainherited]

To be perfectly honest, a part of Helena accepts being filmed as something natural; she's the type of person who's been stopped by photographers in the street, and did get scouted out of the blue to do her (doomed) single attempt at modeling. Simon's nervousness surprises her somewhat, though.

"No, uh--it's all right. I was just wondering why. Is it for a project or something?"

[theydidnothing]

"No," he admits, slowly returning his phone to his pocket. "I just like to film things. Sometimes I make them into videos, so. It's a kind of project."

The fact that she doesn't immediately tell him off helps him feel slightly better and he opens himself up to socialization just a bit more to utter, "Documentaries."

[cold_magdalen]

"What are you doing?"

Hide! It's a Magdattack. >_>

[theydidnothing]

"I'm filming things," he replies a bit obviously, lowering his cameraphone.

[cold_magdalen]

"What does that mean, filming?"

[theydidnothing]

The question doesn't strike him as odd. "I'm taking moving pictures of things," he replies. Simon's speech pattern is a little jerky, as if unsure if he's saying the right words.

"You can take a look if you want," he holds out the phone and has it play back footage of people walking down the street.

[ofviolence]

Teddy is another still point in the crowd, but a less conspicuous one, leaning against the wall of a nearby building and occasionally jotting down notes. He has his eye on Simon for a little while before he approaches, cigarette in hand, flipping his notebook closed and tucking the pen in the spine.

"What's your name, kid?" It's a harmless-sounding start, at least.

[theydidnothing]

This was... different. No one usually noticed Simon like this, much less approached him out of the blue. He took note of Teddy's notepad and his mind began to race. Who was this person? Did he know something about the probation workers he had killed?

Simon is a nervous individual to begin with when talking to new people and his shaky answer of "S-Simon," comes as no surprise.

[ofviolence]

"Simon," he repeats with a nod. Teddy is used to making people nervous, but he isn't actually trying to right now. Of course, he isn't trying not to either, which may amount to the same thing with this kid. When he slips the notebook back into his pants pocket, though, he's careful to only pull back his coat on the side that doesn't flash the gun and badge on his belt. No need for overkill.

"It's a good name. You take a lot of pictures, Simon?"

(That he even recognizes it's a phone, let alone that it can take pictures, is a small triumph in itself.)

[theydidnothing]

He swallows before speaking, mentally noting how the man repeated his name - like he wanted to remember. Simon then nods in reply. "I like photography. And filmmaking." His manner of speech is a bit jerky, but that's just a pattern rather than the nerves that certainly don't help the situation.

"Might I have your name as well?" It didn't seem to be too outrageous of a request.