[ The next day, though... is going to have a late start apparently. No matter when they actually wake up, as when Allen goes to find clothes and slowly recalls that he... doesn't recall them hanging up anything to dry... is first going to be doing laundry with Shouto. Again.
He may or may not be a little sour like that. And be very gentle but a lot more adamant than usual in showing Shouto exactly how you're supposed to scrub and dry your clothes. And no, your boots aren't included in that. And you definitely don't soak them!!! (He's bitter about the boots.)
Occasionally he'll grimace at some pain and look a touch confused, but shrug it off and say it's nothing. He probably pulled something when running the other day (even if someone like him doesn't pull anything). Old scars hurting he might admit more softly, if pressed about it, but he's eager to move on and focus on something else. He's also eager to avoid mirrors—all of them, though he doesn't make it an obvious thing easy to pick up on. His eyes just slide past and he doesn't make eye contact with himself—or anything else. He brushes his teeth while staring flatly at the crown molding. Gets into a frowning contest with a spider up there who's staring back at him.
He's still focused mostly on surviving basics and nescessities, his old habits when traveling, when they're actually able to be dressed to leave. Wrangling breakfast (there is no soba, but have you tried steak and kidney pie? It's really good.) which depletes the rest of their money, keeping to the less-than-savory district they ended up to talk to some of the innkeeps and pub owners as they give the both of them odd looks, but don't shut them out like the others had yesterday. Allen's composed and to the point, like it's business as usual for him, asking who's seemed new in town lately. Had they seen people in black robes, or anyone bearing a silver cross who wasn't part of the local parish. Had people been going missing lately. What day was it, and he lost a bit of credibility with that question but gained the understanding that it's February. There's no mention of his being an Exorcist. Zero mention of his being anything other than just another traveler, someone to hardly pay any attention to. He maneuvers the conversations in a way where he doesn't even give his name.
On a whim, one of the first proprietors of a fancy sort of lounge boasting the finest dancers north of London he asks if he'd ever seen a man who looks like a priest with long red hair and a strange mask. Marian Cross, he offers, when his very crudely drawn portrait only gets confused looks. The man, promptly blanching, begins an animated tirade as he slaps a stack of papers down (unpaid bills) and rattles on about over ten years later and that good for nothing still hasn't paid any of his—
Allen, eager to leave, will snag Shouto wrist and drag him out at that point if he has to.
Throughout the day, walking from place to place, he asks some light questions he's never really thought to ask Shouto before: have you heard of Great Britain? He'd mention being born here, but that he'd traveled with his master so much he didn't actually spend a lot of time actually living here so there was a lot he didn't know. But that he did know they were famous for their gentlemanly manners! ✰ (He. Takes great pride in that.) He also marks out some locations to hit later, when the drinking hour hits, so they can have money for dinner...
Sometimes he catches people lingering and staring at them in an uncomfortable manner that even Allen doesn't quite recognize, but he doesn't pay it a lot of mind. Becoming silent and a little uneasy, he just pushes that aside and moves on with more determination to whatever the next thing is. Doesn't dwell on it.
The late start means there's not a lot to get done, and before long he realizes the winter sun is about to set. He changes gears then, seeming to perk up as he crams the rest of a meat pie he had gotten for a snack into his mouth and tugging Shouto along to the outskirts of town then. Through one of the cemeteries and winding up a tall hill, one that overlooks the rest of the city with a stone monument at the top. One that's weathered but not old yet, and bears the name Dugald Stewart carved into it, born 1753 and died 1828.
It offers a perfect panorama of the city below and the castle in the distance, and Allen sits on the steps of it between the columns to watch the sun set to the west in front of them. He looks up to Shouto and waits on him though, even as his thoughts drift back to the day with some anxiety.
This isn't where I watched the sunset first with Mana. [ A gentle admission and apology. That place was a busy city square—right next to one of the places that had thrown them out yesterday, actually. ]
...But I always wanted to. See it from up here.
[ It's easier to think and talk about those memories when away from people, too. And cemeteries are places that give him more peace than the living. ]
2/2
He may or may not be a little sour like that. And be very gentle but a lot more adamant than usual in showing Shouto exactly how you're supposed to scrub and dry your clothes. And no, your boots aren't included in that. And you definitely don't soak them!!! (He's bitter about the boots.)
Occasionally he'll grimace at some pain and look a touch confused, but shrug it off and say it's nothing. He probably pulled something when running the other day (even if someone like him doesn't pull anything). Old scars hurting he might admit more softly, if pressed about it, but he's eager to move on and focus on something else. He's also eager to avoid mirrors—all of them, though he doesn't make it an obvious thing easy to pick up on. His eyes just slide past and he doesn't make eye contact with himself—or anything else. He brushes his teeth while staring flatly at the crown molding. Gets into a frowning contest with a spider up there who's staring back at him.
He's still focused mostly on surviving basics and nescessities, his old habits when traveling, when they're actually able to be dressed to leave. Wrangling breakfast (there is no soba, but have you tried steak and kidney pie? It's really good.) which depletes the rest of their money, keeping to the less-than-savory district they ended up to talk to some of the innkeeps and pub owners as they give the both of them odd looks, but don't shut them out like the others had yesterday. Allen's composed and to the point, like it's business as usual for him, asking who's seemed new in town lately. Had they seen people in black robes, or anyone bearing a silver cross who wasn't part of the local parish. Had people been going missing lately. What day was it, and he lost a bit of credibility with that question but gained the understanding that it's February. There's no mention of his being an Exorcist. Zero mention of his being anything other than just another traveler, someone to hardly pay any attention to. He maneuvers the conversations in a way where he doesn't even give his name.
On a whim, one of the first proprietors of a fancy sort of lounge boasting the finest dancers north of London he asks if he'd ever seen a man who looks like a priest with long red hair and a strange mask. Marian Cross, he offers, when his very crudely drawn portrait only gets confused looks. The man, promptly blanching, begins an animated tirade as he slaps a stack of papers down (unpaid bills) and rattles on about over ten years later and that good for nothing still hasn't paid any of his—
Allen, eager to leave, will snag Shouto wrist and drag him out at that point if he has to.
Throughout the day, walking from place to place, he asks some light questions he's never really thought to ask Shouto before: have you heard of Great Britain? He'd mention being born here, but that he'd traveled with his master so much he didn't actually spend a lot of time actually living here so there was a lot he didn't know. But that he did know they were famous for their gentlemanly manners! ✰ (He. Takes great pride in that.) He also marks out some locations to hit later, when the drinking hour hits, so they can have money for dinner...
Sometimes he catches people lingering and staring at them in an uncomfortable manner that even Allen doesn't quite recognize, but he doesn't pay it a lot of mind. Becoming silent and a little uneasy, he just pushes that aside and moves on with more determination to whatever the next thing is. Doesn't dwell on it.
The late start means there's not a lot to get done, and before long he realizes the winter sun is about to set. He changes gears then, seeming to perk up as he crams the rest of a meat pie he had gotten for a snack into his mouth and tugging Shouto along to the outskirts of town then. Through one of the cemeteries and winding up a tall hill, one that overlooks the rest of the city with a stone monument at the top. One that's weathered but not old yet, and bears the name Dugald Stewart carved into it, born 1753 and died 1828.
It offers a perfect panorama of the city below and the castle in the distance, and Allen sits on the steps of it between the columns to watch the sun set to the west in front of them. He looks up to Shouto and waits on him though, even as his thoughts drift back to the day with some anxiety.
We're missing something, aren't we? ... I'm missing something. ]
This isn't where I watched the sunset first with Mana. [ A gentle admission and apology. That place was a busy city square—right next to one of the places that had thrown them out yesterday, actually. ]
...But I always wanted to. See it from up here.
[ It's easier to think and talk about those memories when away from people, too. And cemeteries are places that give him more peace than the living. ]