(no subject)

[alan_shore]

Who: Alan Shore and some brave souls
What: A day in the life.
Where: Everywhere. (The El, Flyside, Aspic, the locale of your choice.)
When: Sukkardi
Notes: Format essentially stolen from Samm. Except for the part where I can't get that box thing to work.
Warnings: Smugness. Legalese. Gratuitous discussion of pie, probably.

Tag into one of the threads below or devise a scenario of your choosing.

Comments

[alan_shore]

Alan's obliged to circle the park--or, at any rate, walk along a stretch of fence--before he finds the entrance, a gap in all that steadfast ironwork. He doesn't disguise his approach (snapped twigs aplenty can and do attest to that), but when he spots his friend, he stops short, leaving ample space between them. He'd been invited here, true, but trespassing on the man's thoughts is another matter entirely.

"Xenophilius." He says the name warmly, even as the chill air transmutes his exhalation into a white wisp.

[xenophilius]

Xenophilius is concentrating. One hand lowers, and the broom begins to tip, before he rights it again, pale eyebrows furrowed. He's going to have to do that charm again, maybe, or check with Snape that-- oh, someone just said his name.

Promptly forgetting his cautious handling of the item, he turns enough to spy Alan, hands removing from where it was holding up the broom -- and, of course, the broom hangs in place, hovering on thin air with only the slightest of wobbles. He is dressed not unusually, for him, in the quilt-patch coat of warm wool over trousers that show his ankles, more ordinary sweater above that.

"Good day, Alan," he greets. "How're you today?"