[ My god the heart attack he has when he loses track of Shouto... you have no idea. He's not one to randomly accost people or lose all pretense at keeping his cool but he absolutely was inches from grabbing some poor vendor by his lapels while blurting "Have you seen a man with half white and half red hair?!?!?!?!" He's pretty sure he scared the poor man... if this is truly reality now he'll have to make a note to go back and apologize to him.
He appreciates the help in trying to find any sort of answers, any reasons there might be that this is the moment they're in. Even if sometimes it's... less than helpful, he appreciates it nonetheless. And it doesn't even really matter, no one seems to have heard anything. There's no involvement of the Order. No immediate threat, but... no immediate reason either. The question about what he liked to "play" catches Allen in a rare moment of being entirely flat-footed for an answer though, and he blinks for a moment. Oh...
He... liked to play hide and seek with Tim a lot. It's an almost shy sort of answer, his gaze sliding aside. A pause before he admits he never really played much as a child, and his hand would brush lightly against Shouto's as he looks at him and debates if he should ask, before finally deciding to and asking if there was something he had liked to play too--or wanted to. The caveat is included as he feels like he can guess, from what he knows of him, but doesn't want to draw attention to it.
Shouto's pause when they pass the cemetary draws a look from Allen as well, curious and concerned. He'd been unsettled by the dead in the catacombs too, it makes him recall suddenly, and he reaches for his hand as he asks him quietly if he's alright—and will gently squeeze his hand in reassurance regardless of the answer.
...Although he does blink and stare at him a little owlishly when he asks later if he... knows "him"? Who?
No, he does not know this random famous Scottish philosopher. (As if he even knows that much; he'd have to be educated or something.) It's just a nice monument he was drawn to.
He doesn't mean to seem faraway when the sun starts to set though. He's just... it's a lot, you know? Being back here again, seeing this sight when he didn't think he would ever. It's easy to get lost in thought, so he blinks slightly at Shouto's comment on Mana before he smiles gently in response. Hugs his knees to his chest for a moment, before he points down to where the the city opens up beneath them. ]
...do you see that fountain down there? [ The one in the largest square that, where the city seems to open up into a busy crossroads of activity. Where people who dress how Allen often does back in Trench are hurrying either to home or a show, buttoned up against the cold, and a fountain sits in the middle. Even from up here it's clearly visible. ]
That's where he showed me the sunset. Where we first performed together, too.
[ He looks down at his boots, flexing the toes of them for a moment. Where Shouto had wrapped his feet so gently and earnestly earlier. ]
I didn't even know what was going on, or the first thing about performing for a crowd. I was just the errand boy. But he acted like it was the easiest and most natural thing in the world for me to do too and told me just to smile so everyone else would too. "Tragedy has put us together on this stage..."
[ He echoes it softly, words from long ago. He'd never really thought that deeply on them before; how strange they were to say to a child you should have barely known. ]
no subject
He appreciates the help in trying to find any sort of answers, any reasons there might be that this is the moment they're in. Even if sometimes it's... less than helpful, he appreciates it nonetheless. And it doesn't even really matter, no one seems to have heard anything. There's no involvement of the Order. No immediate threat, but... no immediate reason either. The question about what he liked to "play" catches Allen in a rare moment of being entirely flat-footed for an answer though, and he blinks for a moment. Oh...
He... liked to play hide and seek with Tim a lot. It's an almost shy sort of answer, his gaze sliding aside. A pause before he admits he never really played much as a child, and his hand would brush lightly against Shouto's as he looks at him and debates if he should ask, before finally deciding to and asking if there was something he had liked to play too--or wanted to. The caveat is included as he feels like he can guess, from what he knows of him, but doesn't want to draw attention to it.
Shouto's pause when they pass the cemetary draws a look from Allen as well, curious and concerned. He'd been unsettled by the dead in the catacombs too, it makes him recall suddenly, and he reaches for his hand as he asks him quietly if he's alright—and will gently squeeze his hand in reassurance regardless of the answer.
...Although he does blink and stare at him a little owlishly when he asks later if he... knows "him"? Who?
No, he does not know this random famous Scottish philosopher. (As if he even knows that much; he'd have to be educated or something.) It's just a nice monument he was drawn to.
He doesn't mean to seem faraway when the sun starts to set though. He's just... it's a lot, you know? Being back here again, seeing this sight when he didn't think he would ever. It's easy to get lost in thought, so he blinks slightly at Shouto's comment on Mana before he smiles gently in response. Hugs his knees to his chest for a moment, before he points down to where the the city opens up beneath them. ]
...do you see that fountain down there? [ The one in the largest square that, where the city seems to open up into a busy crossroads of activity. Where people who dress how Allen often does back in Trench are hurrying either to home or a show, buttoned up against the cold, and a fountain sits in the middle. Even from up here it's clearly visible. ]
That's where he showed me the sunset. Where we first performed together, too.
[ He looks down at his boots, flexing the toes of them for a moment. Where Shouto had wrapped his feet so gently and earnestly earlier. ]
I didn't even know what was going on, or the first thing about performing for a crowd. I was just the errand boy. But he acted like it was the easiest and most natural thing in the world for me to do too and told me just to smile so everyone else would too. "Tragedy has put us together on this stage..."
[ He echoes it softly, words from long ago. He'd never really thought that deeply on them before; how strange they were to say to a child you should have barely known. ]
I think he saw the world like that.