your highness your ways are very strange

[xenophilius]

Who: Xenophilius Lovegood and You
What: A day in the life.
Where: Variously; the Valhalla Inn, the streets of Mog Hill, the Queequeg's coffee house, and a bonus time/place of your choosing.
When: Vaguely within the last week of Velldaren. Whatev'.
Notes: A basic day in the life style post, and open to everyone ever.
Warnings: Xeno.

See my thread starts for tag openings!

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a morning // valhalla inn

[xenophilius]

It's a bit of a wet morning for it, with rain having come down in a fine mist when Xenophilius had first gotten to work, but has since dried up. It's left the earth moist and cool, the leaves of the vegetable and herb plans clung to by beading moisture, and saturates the air with the smell of the garden. The wizard kneeling amongst the plants has dirt on his palms and beneath his nails, streaking the knees of his trousers, but he also couldn't be more content. The gardening implement in his hand rakes the ground so that he can dump wayward weeds into the pile he's made at his side, and white-blonde hair clings to his brow more from recent rain fall than perspiration -- he works like it's leisure.

The humming can be heard at garden's edge, and it's obvious he is in his own little world.

/sneaks in late

[fish]

As the Valhalla's night clerk, Fish should have left work some hours ago, but, rather than just shovelling a bunch of eggs into his maw and leaving as soon as possible, this morning he decided to hang around for the continental breakfast in a properly social way. This meant getting into a frankly amazing conversation with a man with a mantis arm, and so he's not even remotely regretting his decision. The people he meets here are so cool, seriously.

Sadly, however, he forgot his sunglasses at home today, and so as he trudges through the yard he is both squinting and attempting to shield his eyes with one hand. His hood is up, and his sleeves are pulled right over his fingers. If he had a bandana he'd be wearing that too. Alas. And yet, despite his apparent allergy to the sun, he stops to take a look at what this gent is doing. Wet sneakers in the grass and all.

"Hey," he says, by way of greeting. He could just walk on by, but...whatever, he's feeling extra friendly. Call it overcompensation for his fear of the recent anti-cruorvore activities.

/acceptable

[xenophilius]

Looking up in his distraction, Lovegood squints against the sun himself, ever so slightly cross-eyed gaze taking its time to seek out Fish's. The occasional streak of dirt on his face and in too-white hair is a little disproportionate to the amount of work he is actually doing-- namely, weeding-- but he seems happy enough, and offers the young man a bright smile.

"Hello," he says. He's not an uncommon sight in the Valhalla Inn, having finally gotten the courage to explore the outer world of this strange place and once that started, staying out for wanders that could last hours, but ever returning. He'll sort himself out eventually.

Or get kicked out, one of those things. The weeds are more concerning for him, at the moment. "This garden is shamefully free of gnomes, did you know?"

[fish]

"Uh... no, I didn't." You'd think Fish would be used to the random kinds of things people will say in a city like Baedal, having lived here for months now, but it still catches him off guard sometimes. He is, however, getting better at just rolling with it. "Is that bad?"

[xenophilius]

"Perhaps. I suppose it depends on what was done to the sorry little blighters."

But Xeno smiles pleasantly enough, bright and sudden, rising up to his knees and pushing his hair back from his face so as to acknowledge the presence of another, holding awkward the weeding tool. "You come here at night, I think. It's a nice place, you should give my regards to the management. My name is Xenophilius Lovegood."

STILL THE LATEST, hello

[fish]

Well, that sure is a mouthful. Fish finds this fellow's overall manner somehow calming (well, so far), and although he hasn't felt much like smiling lately he has a go at one anyway. It ends up looking affected, sure, but the sentiment is...kind of there.

"I'm Fish." In lieu of shaking hands, he just nods; that seems to suffice for most people. "And yeah, I work the night shift. I'll tell the boss lady what you said, she'll like that... um, so you're not working here, you're just doing this... just because?"

\ oAo/

[xenophilius]

Doing this? Xeno glances down at himself, around, his hands, which he then wipes off a little on his coat, tumbling looser dirt off his palms. "It seems that I am," he says, then properly getting to his feet in the slightly haphazard, gradual way that tall people do, taking care to mind the plants he's surrounded by.

"I keep plants at home, sensitive ones, and seeing as I can't very well tend to them--"

He gestures vaguely, his smile ever-present and mild, as if he put it on and forgot about it. "Fish. It's nice to meet you properly, of course. I hope no one minds, this, I just thought the weeds were getting on."

[fish]

"Nah, I'm sure it's okay. You seem happy, and it's not like..." What, it's not like you're wrecking things? That seems a little harsh, especially since the dude is smiling like that. He's been trying to stay positive lately; now would be a good time to practise that. "I mean, it's good for the garden and stuff, so." Nice save, expert conversationalist.

"Where're you from?"

Fish stands about 5'7", by the way, and therefore feels sort of miniature right now. But that's okay, he's used to it.

[xenophilius]

And at 6'2", Xenophilius is quite used to be the tall one, especially seeing as he comes from-- "England. Devon, to be specific, but I don't expect to meet many who've been down that way." He could specify that he comes from exclusive and secluded wizarding societies, hence the-- the everything, really, but explaining himself isn't something that comes very second nature.

"And yourself? Unless, of course, you're a native."

[fish]

He seems surprised to hear the name of a country he recognizes. Gosh, there sure are a lot of people from Earth in this cohort. Nice people, too. He sort of wishes he'd come in along with them in the first place, instead of those other jerks...but that's a mope for another time.

"Um, I'm from America. It's been...almost a year, I guess, since I got here. And I've never been to England, but I always wanted to go." And now he never will oh god the angst of it all.

[xenophilius]

A year.

Xeno's smile sort of wans at the edges at the concrete evidence as to the concept that he could be here for quite some time, caught up in silent studying of Fish as if to try and detect whether this is good or bad. It's an awkward place for a stop of silence, hands knitting together as his thoughts haphazardly navigate around applying such a situation to himself.

He starts, then, when he reminds himself he is, indeed, having a conversation, and says the first thing that comes to mind, seeing as it's already pressing on his own;

"Did you have much family back in America?"

[fish]

"Yeah." This subject is kind of depressing, he thinks, but buddy here wouldn't have brought it up unless it were weighing on his mind—and it must be, given how he looked just now. Poor guy. Since Fish likes to be accommodating when he can, he'll go along with it. It's an innocent enough question, anyway, and he doesn't seem bothered to discuss it. "Well, not a whole ton of them, but... my parents, my brother. Cousins and stuff. And some friends."

He's looking down at his shoe, now, and performing an incredibly clichéd gesture while doing it, too: the toe of said shoe gently pokes and scuffs at the ground. "It's kinda hard without them. But it's like...better, in a way, since they're not here. I dunno if my mom could handle this place." Thinking about his mother is actually incredibly painful, but one wouldn't necessarily know it to look at him; he's got that deadpan down pat.

"How 'bout you?"

[xenophilius]

"I suspect my daughter would take to this place quite well," Xenophilius says, by way of answer to the question politely put back to him - and it's the only family he sees fit to identify. There's no point in not seeming a little sad about the separation, for all that it hasn't exactly sunk in yet, but it doesn't make pleasantries seem insincere, same goes with the mildly crooked smile he has as he adds; "She's just out of school, now, so I'm sure she'll get on fine regardless."

He leans down, then, to pick up the handful of weeds he's torn from the ground, shaking them off a little of loose dirt before moving to set them into the pile collected for disposal on the pathway. It's a practical thing to do, but also a good distraction from the topic he's stumbled into.

"I was given a photograph, though, when I came here, so that was kind."

[fish]

"Well, that's good." He's not trying too hard to sound upbeat, so this little attempt at optimism shouldn't come off as phony, he hopes. Either he tries gently to steer this conversation away from where it seems to be going, or he leaves awkwardly—and he's been trying not to do that so often. So.

"I've noticed a bunch of other people finding folks they already know too, or I mean, knew from before. You're pretty lucky that way."