[ OPEN ]

[eversohandsome]

WHO: Handsome Bob & YOU
WHERE: His house, out and about in Heropa
WHEN: Early Feb
WHAT: Meeting new peeps, generally being cheeky
WARNINGS: Maybe language but otherwise tbc

( In/around Heropa #007 )

It's not that newness itself makes Bob feel overwhelmed. Newness is exciting and provides new opportunities to touch things, to explore surroundings he hasn't explored before. London is hectic but new places make Bob's brain hectic with distractions. What can he do? What can he see? What should he pay attention to first?

Since he arrived, everything has been full-on, from the journey to his new house to exploring his new bedroom. None of things were his but now they are. Having already walked a circuit of the room, spacious but filled with enough things to make it interesting, he's sat down on the side of his bed, hands rested either side of his hips and fingers enjoying the feel of the bed covers underneath.

He's never been overly concerned with interior design, or whatever that shit's called... feng shui or some bollocks, but it's a nice room. It's cosy and warm and has a window that gives him a nice view of the goings-on down on street level outside.

With one last look over at the discarded pamphlet he was given on arrival - the information scanned briefly but not digested properly - he decides there's only one way to start out. Meeting new people and finding out what the crack is. What the story is here. With that in mind (and a slightly disconcerting lack of the car keys he's accustomed to whenever he's leaving his house), he gets himself up and decides it's time to stretch his legs. Who knows, maybe he'll meet somebody who wants to have a pint and a bit of a natter?

( Propping up a bar in Heropa )

The bar Bob finds himself in is slightly nicer than the usual he's been known to frequent. Walking places instead of driving is... different, but the bar's location was strangely easy to find. Without (seemingly) a care in the world, he makes himself comfortable on a barstool, ordering himself a pint and taking in his new surroundings. He'd prefer a bit of company, is all he thinks as he glances around, eyes catching on anything that looks either shiny or nice-looking, and takes a long, appreciative gulp of the cold beer. The beermat he's been served his drink on is quickly plucked up from where it sits on the bar top, glass placed back down on varnished wood and his fingers make light work of spinning it around, fidgeting with the lack of anybody to direct his attention towards in the meantime.




[ ooc: permissions post is here for explanations of powers/opt ins etc ^.^ ]

Comments

[solarcharged]

[ continued from here! ]

"Not entirely useless, no, which is part of the problem," He admits, watching as the first patrol car zooms onto the scene before them, sirens blaring and blue lights wheeling. Apollo grimaces in unspoken disapproval; he can't say he approves of the local authorities, even when they're trying their best with good intentions. Which isn't always that often.

"They've got the power to arrest any imPorts they see heroing without being Registered," he continues, more quietly now. Just between him and the new guy. "Just avoid them, that's my advice."

[eversohandsome]

With adrenaline snapping through his veins at the simple but invasive sound of sirens, Bob shifts from one foot to the other. He knows this feeling - it's familiar, almost comforting in how well he knows it. Fight or flight makes him verging on antsy as he watches from a safe distance. Odd fucking feeling when police aren't here for him.

"I wasn't planning on asking them out for dinner or anything," he jokes distractedly, eyes fixated on what the police are doing to try and mop up the mess and get control of the crowd. When he comes back to himself, and the conversation, he glances across at the towering blond man curiously.

"...are you Registered?"

[solarcharged]

The other man's restlessness is practically palpable, which can only really mean one thing: this guy isn't cop-friendly. Which is fine, because neither is Apollo. But he notes this nonetheless, smiling a little himself at the question that follows.

"Absolutely not," He replies with an expression somewhere between grim and amused. "State-sponsored heroism is a fucking terrible idea. Why, are you?"

Somehow he thinks not, but depending on how new this guy really is he might not even have made it to his first Swear-In yet.

[eversohandsome]

The more Bob thinks about it, the more questions he has. He'd be blind not to miss the expression that goes with the answer but, honestly, he doesn't have a fucking clue what he's doing. It's been a long time since he's had to make decisions beyond what car he's going to be driving that day. He's more a follow the leader kind of bloke.

"Nah, mate. Not big on labels," he says, frowning slightly because he doesn't know what the least shit option is. On the one hand he doesn't really fancy being homeless, especially in a place he's not sure of yet. A place where he knows no one. On the other, he's a man who prefers the freedom to choose how he makes his money. Legitimately or not.

He shares none of these thoughts with this stranger whose name he doesn't even know let alone what his reasons are for thinking being Registered is a bad idea.

"What's your name, anyway, Sunshine?"

[solarcharged]

Apollo's pretty sure he can guess the kind of thought processed ticking away in Bob's mind; it's the same kind of argument that every imPort has to have with themselves on arrival. For Apollo it was straightforward. For others - especially those without a job they're comfortable with and no other income to replace the government stipend - it's less so.

"Apollo," He answers with an easy grin and puts out a warm hand to shake. "Good to meet you."

[eversohandsome]

Apollo. It seems like an appropriate kind of name, and Bob nods his delayed greeting accompanied by a returning warm - mostly figurative, not literal - handshake back. Though their conversation has been brief (and questionably started), he feels like he's already learned a lot in a short space of time. Not least that his avoidance of the police is something he should probably continue.

"Bob." Nobody ever really calls him anything more formal than that and he doesn't see the point in pretending he's anything like a Robert. He's Bob, Bobby, Bobski... anything but his given name.

As the very police they've been talking about start actually making a difference, his attention wanes and he finds himself wondering how safe it is to ask the questions that he wants to ask. Like what do people do to earn money if they aren't Registered or fond of the police? It looks like there's one of those questions on the tip of his tongue for a little while, sitting and waiting as people walk by.

"How easy is it to have a properly private conversation here? You know what I mean?"

[solarcharged]

"Bob," Apollo repeats aloud as they shake hands. "Welcome to the world, Bob."

His attention flicks back over to the scene, watching the cops as they begin to herd the dazed and the panicked away from the mall doors. A young woman in a high vis jacket begins unfurling a cordon of tape in a brisk, businesslike manner and the natives obligingly let themselves be rounded up. Apollo shakes his head; it's amazing what kind of power a high vis jacket can have.

Talking of noticeable costumes -- he's pretty sure that if he hangs about here any longer he'll be noticed, given his uniform. Leaving the scene is probably a good idea and at Bob's question he nods up the street.

"This way. There's an imPort-friendly diner up the road, they've always got a few reserved booths away from the public. We can chat there."

God bless natives who know how to cash in on privately-minded imPorts, he thinks as he leads the way.

[eversohandsome]

"Ta," Bob murmurs back, finally turning away from the source of interest and decides a private conversation is probably better. Or at least... anywhere that's not in view of the Feds. Truthfully, he appreciates anybody giving him the time of day if they're not police or arseholes, so this is a decent turn of events, he reckons.

"Oi, what's this place called then?" he asks, watching the back of the taller man as he strides on ahead, leading the way. It might feel a bit blurry around the edges at the moment but Bob has a strange feeling of déjà vu, as if he must have been to this diner before because he knows how to get there. Except he knows he hasn't.

[solarcharged]

"What, the diner or the city?" Apollo glances back over one oversized shoulder with a grin. "This is De Chima. The place we're going to is called the Good Times Diner. They do a mean eggs benny, apparently..."

It's not like Apollo's tried it. It's not like Apollo's ever had eggs benedict - not that he can remember, at least. Maybe the old him, the pre-Apollo Apollo, had eggs benedict all the time...

And luckily the diner isn't far; it's a 1950s retro-futurist technicolour monstrosity, complete with a pink-Formica-and-chrome space ship suspended in a cheerful swoop over the patrons scattered around the tables. Apollo hauls open the door and gestures for Bob to head inside first.

"After you, new guy."

Heropa 007

[rebelarrow]

[Judd typically doesn't take note of his roommates. It isn't that he doesn't like them, but they all tend to lead separate lives, and as he's no longer living in a wolf pack, he sees no reason to stick his nose where it doesn't belong.

He does, however, notice a relative stranger exploring the place as he puts together a protein shake. The man has just enough self-restraint to not turn the blender on to startle him.]

New?

[eversohandsome]

( ooc: hope you don't mind but I'm a lazy person so I'm gonna do prose but feel free to keep doing action tags XD )


"...alright?" Bob had been thinking of getting out and about, but that had been before he realised anybody was in the house. It's not quite home, probably won't be for a while, but he's always glad for some company and making a new mate or two. He lifts his chin in greeting and stops dead centre in the kitchen, eyes first taking in the man and then the blender.

"New as fuck, yeah. I'm Bob," he says with a smile as his eyes flick back to the stranger and he sticks out a friendly hand by way of introduction. For a man who looks a little bit like a thug, he's as soft and tactile as they come.

[rebelarrow]

(no worries!)

As Bob will no doubt be quick to learn, Judd is just quiet like that; seen only when he wants to be seen. A result of his upbringing. Another facet of his upbringing is being averse to touch, though at least the years of living with the super tactile changelings have forced him out of his shell. Looking down at the hand, he shakes it firmly.

"Judd," he replies, his tone and voice cool. It isn't personal; he just sounds like that. "Second bedroom on the left is mine."

[eversohandsome]

With the firm, introductory handshake under their belts, Bob glances back over his shoulder at the mention of the bedroom. It's not like he can see it from here, but mapping out places is something he's been interested in ever since he stole his first car. It's helpful, useful information. Sometimes lifesaving.

"Nice to meet you, mate," he finally says, looking back at the man and nodding towards the blender. "You big on shakes, then?" He could ask a million other questions, but Bob's more an in-the-moment kind of bloke.

[rebelarrow]

At the mention of his shake, he turns his attention back to the machine and turns the blades off, the ingredients he put in perfectly blended into a sort of sort of light brown color. Judd pulls two cups out of the cabinets and starts to pour it out.

"I'm not much of a cook," he responds, an answer that is technically the truth, though not the full truth. He grew up on nutrition bars and shakes; his race's attempts at avoiding anything that might spark emotion. Even after he broke from that path, there was Aisha and the other den cooks to keep him from learning the skill.

Living here certainly hasn't helped him overcome that shortcoming either.

"Do you want one? Vanilla yogurt, chocolate protein powder, banana, spinach, and peanut butter."

Judd gestures to the empty glass.

[eversohandsome]

"Sounds decent, yeah, thanks," Bob returns, grinning a little more and leaning a hip casually up against a counter as he folds his arms over his chest. Truth be told, he can't remember the last time he ate or drank anything with anywhere near that much nutrition in it. One day he knows his metabolism is going to tank, but for now he's not worrying about it and he's clearly pleased to be offered a drink.

"I know what you mean. I'm a sausage, egg and beans kind of bloke. Eggs on toast count as cooking?" he asks, clearly not believing it is himself but it's a bit of a running joke back where he's from. He doesn't wait for a reply - he knows what the answer is.

"You been here long?"

[rebelarrow]

As a Psy, it's vital that he maintains a certain caloric intake in order to keep from burning through his psychic abilities and crashing. He used to have ready-made stuff back home, but he's gotten used to adapting here.

"It does to me," he replies coolly as he pours them both a glass.

Anything involving any kind of food is cooking to him.

Judd passes Bob the glass.

"Since September."

[eversohandsome]

Gratefully taking the glass with a gentle 'cheers, mate', Bob's grinning at the other man's opinion on cooking. He hasn't mentioned that if he's cooking, the eggs are more rubbery than anything, but that seems like it's not worth mentioning. He doesn't bother inspecting the shake, is more of a throw caution to the wind sort of bloke, and takes a big gulp from the glass.

"Fuck me," he blurts out, appreciation brightening his expression into one of unbridled pleasure. It tastes incredible! "That's really fucking good," he adds after another mighty gulp, taste buds pinging his brain happily.

[sathan]

( lilith had messaged him again when she'd been ready for him, texting him the address. she'd gotten some tea ready, for herself if not for him, a polite smile on her as she opens her door to him, letting him into her cottage )

Tell me-- have you had any other incidents in the past few days?

( accidentally stolen any more items? )

[eversohandsome]

[ There hadn't been any need to try and work out how to get to the address he'd been supplied. At least one of his powers was proving useful. Arriving at the cottage had felt no more new to him than somewhere he'd been a thousand times before, and with a warm smile in return, he toes his shoes off respectfully by the front door and casts about for a good way to answer the question.

There's no point lying. He'd learned that last time. ]

Yeah. A couple. ...one, actually. The other someone asked me to...

[ And even then he'd still accidentally taken the wrong thing, but that's besides the point. It had happened and he'd not had full control of it. ]

Cheers, by the way. For agreeing to help.

[sathan]

So I would be helping you to better steal.

( she's just saying considering that he'd claimed to just want to control it )

Whilst ensuring you didn't accidentally take things is beneficial-- you've already gone against what you claimed.

( convince her why she should still help )

[eversohandsome]

Nah, nah. It wasn't like that at all. The first thing I got the same time as your uh... ring.

[ Still awkward he took that but he'll force himself onwards. ]

The other thing was this bloke I was talking to wanted to see what I could do. So he had this apple, right? Asked me to try and take that. So I tried but... I got something else of his. He's coming round at some point to help me clean my fuc-- my room up.

[ He honestly hasn't used his powers to steal, Lilith! Please believe him! The car he might've stolen was absolutely done the old-fashioned way. No powers involved. :) ]

[sathan]

( there's a sharper look that she gives him as if she's reading him, searching him down to his core. but it's just a look, any reading that she's doing not magical in nature but heavily judgemental -- she's known men far too well to simply be led by their lies.

but then the hardness stops and whilst she isn't friendly she is agreeing. if only because she doesn't want anything else accidentally stolen )

Note that if you go against what you claim, if you do actively steal-- ( actively ) --your fate will be-- less than kind.

( she will curse him. sure, she doesn't have to care about what he does but considering she's helping him and he's giving assurances she wants to be certain he'll stick to them. whether or not her threat is true )

Tell me what you thought and did when you tried to take his apple.

[eversohandsome]

[ He's not cowed by much but there's a level of intimidation going on here that makes him think (for once) about whether he's jumped the gun a bit. Asking for help to stop accidentally stealing other people's stuff was a genuine request, but the way she's looking at him and talking to him makes the hair on the back of his neck stand on end.

Clearing his throat awkwardly, he shifts his weight from one foot to the other and instinctively folds his arms across his chest. ]

Um. I asked him where he was. Location and that. And then I was thinking about the apple. But I got this other thing. Small red and white ball thing. ...and then this massive fuck off bat flew out of it and trashed my room. [ Yeah, it sounds fucked up to him, too, but it definitely happened and he was also definitely stone cold sober at the time. ]

[sathan]

( whether or not lilith believes the entire tale she doesn't say anything, she's known many strange things in life and this is no stranger. though the person telling the tale is questionable )

Perhaps starting with an object that you can see would aide you.

( and showing how to control such a spell she summons her own apple )

Focus on it. On moving it to you.

[eversohandsome]

[ Impressed but slightly too intimidated to show it, Bob nods and swallows hard. Maybe I can do this, he thinks to himself as his eyes fasten with as much attention as he can ever muster on one single object that doesn't have four wheels and purrs like a panther. ]

Uh, yeah. Alright. Move it to me. 'course.

[ Staring hard at the apple, he tries to quieten down all the other thoughts flying around in his brain - what's for dinner, are platypuses actually poisonous bad boys, is this lady going to kill me and will anybody even notice I'm gone - and get the apple to come to him. He's wishing for it, rather than knowing it and the apple stays stubbornly where it is. Frustrated, he blows out an impatient breath. ]