[ Oh... his heart twists at that, expression faltering. That sort of realization... Allen had it before he could even properly form memories, it was hard-baked into him at such an early age, but if Shouto is having that now...
He squeezes his hand in sympathy, expression conflicted. ]
And me. [ Even if for once, for reasons he's not even sure of, they decided to be more afraid of Shouto. But he says it softly, his demeanor becoming quiet, and leads them back out of sight and into the lengthening shadows.
His demeanor stays quiet and a little distracted as they walk, but he keeps holding onto Shouto's hand. Gently, but in a way where he's very much not letting go either. He doesn't really know any inns here, he was too young to notice that kind of things before and doesn't have Cross's connections here and would say as much if asked, so it's more wandering until coming across one his instincts identify as a safe bet. As for what constitutes a safe bet...?
The first one, a lively pub serving some sort of meat pies one can smell from the street, seems to be going well despite the innkeep giving Allen, in full polite charm: on mode and smiles, several very dubious once-overs and staring hard at his scar. Until he catches Shouto looking at him and locks gazes, startling visibly at his bright teal eye against such red burnt skin. He shoves Allen's money roughly back at him then, declaring they have no vacancy. He threatens to have them thrown out and locked up if they try to protest.
The second one they barely get in the door before a woman who's sweeping up blanches, looking panicked before she brandishes her broom at them. We got no room for your kind here! Shoo!
Three. Four.
The fifth one is in a different part of town, that while the rest of the city is going to sleep aside from the pubs... this part is waking up. Colorful signs advertising things like Puss In Boots, The Bunny's Bottom, and Kitty Kat's ♥. By this point, Allen's so worn and tired his expression barely changes when they get there -- maybe just a bit more resigned -- but he isolates an inn ("inn") that's across from one of the... clubs. This one is run by a thin and sharp-faced woman in heavy makeup who regards the two of them wordlessly after his request for a room ("just a room?" "yes, just a room"), no more energetic charm and veneer. She takes a long drag on her cigarette as she sizes them both up; perfect poker face, nothing warm and nothing cold. Her eyes linger, yes, on both their scars for a moment, on Shouto's left eye, Allen's not quite fully hidden left hand, and their ill-fitted and cobbled together appearance. How they're standing. The near-matching earcuffs.
It's a long, long moment.
She reaches back and slides a key across the counter. "Two shillings, third floor. Go all the way down and it's on the right." She continues to watch for a measured, unreadable moment as Allen, startled, fumbles for the coins.
"It's my boys' old room. Got some of their old clothes in it, too." She stamps out her cigarette and takes the money from Allen who's staring, dumbfounded. "You can pay me for whatever you end up using tomorrow." ]
no subject
He squeezes his hand in sympathy, expression conflicted. ]
And me. [ Even if for once, for reasons he's not even sure of, they decided to be more afraid of Shouto. But he says it softly, his demeanor becoming quiet, and leads them back out of sight and into the lengthening shadows.
His demeanor stays quiet and a little distracted as they walk, but he keeps holding onto Shouto's hand. Gently, but in a way where he's very much not letting go either. He doesn't really know any inns here, he was too young to notice that kind of things before and doesn't have Cross's connections here and would say as much if asked, so it's more wandering until coming across one his instincts identify as a safe bet. As for what constitutes a safe bet...?
The first one, a lively pub serving some sort of meat pies one can smell from the street, seems to be going well despite the innkeep giving Allen, in full polite charm: on mode and smiles, several very dubious once-overs and staring hard at his scar. Until he catches Shouto looking at him and locks gazes, startling visibly at his bright teal eye against such red burnt skin. He shoves Allen's money roughly back at him then, declaring they have no vacancy. He threatens to have them thrown out and locked up if they try to protest.
The second one they barely get in the door before a woman who's sweeping up blanches, looking panicked before she brandishes her broom at them. We got no room for your kind here! Shoo!
Three. Four.
The fifth one is in a different part of town, that while the rest of the city is going to sleep aside from the pubs... this part is waking up. Colorful signs advertising things like Puss In Boots, The Bunny's Bottom, and Kitty Kat's ♥. By this point, Allen's so worn and tired his expression barely changes when they get there -- maybe just a bit more resigned -- but he isolates an inn ("inn") that's across from one of the... clubs. This one is run by a thin and sharp-faced woman in heavy makeup who regards the two of them wordlessly after his request for a room ("just a room?" "yes, just a room"), no more energetic charm and veneer. She takes a long drag on her cigarette as she sizes them both up; perfect poker face, nothing warm and nothing cold. Her eyes linger, yes, on both their scars for a moment, on Shouto's left eye, Allen's not quite fully hidden left hand, and their ill-fitted and cobbled together appearance. How they're standing. The near-matching earcuffs.
It's a long, long moment.
She reaches back and slides a key across the counter. "Two shillings, third floor. Go all the way down and it's on the right." She continues to watch for a measured, unreadable moment as Allen, startled, fumbles for the coins.
"It's my boys' old room. Got some of their old clothes in it, too." She stamps out her cigarette and takes the money from Allen who's staring, dumbfounded. "You can pay me for whatever you end up using tomorrow." ]