knightofmercury | OOMM: The Crossing Star (Frederick and Alec)

OOMM: The Crossing Star (Frederick and Alec)

Frederick is leaning against the bar at the Crossing Star, idly watching the colorful bustle going on around him, while the barkeep fetches his drink. It's rather busy tonight, the sort of night when you could think you saw someone you recognized, then quickly lose track of them. Which has happened to Frederick more than once already, as his glance has been darting around—there are always too many faces in a place like this that are at least somewhat familiar to him.

He's here alone tonight. No one at Dawnbright seemed to want to come with him.

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"Oh, it's a western, rather ridiculous one at that, the bounty hunter, Brisco is off hunting down Blackbeard LaCutte, a member of the gang that killed his father. There is an all women town involved this time."

He puts the book down and gives Fredrick a smile. It's an invitational one if he wishes to sit.

"Might I join you?" Frederick asks, with upward, hopeful inflection, as if he's surprised to discover that someone seems to want him to.

"If you wish," Alec returns. But the voice is once of 'yes please' as opposed to indifference.

He does, of course, leaning on the table with his chin in both hands.

"I apologize... I haven't even asked your name," he practically sings.

His gesture is mimicked, but his chin is in only one hand, and he keep a slight tilt of his mouth in a smile.

"Alexander," he says. "And yourself?"

"Frederick Mayhawk," he replies, liltingly. (He may even be batting his eyelashes a bit.) "It's a pleasure to meet you, Alexander."

"Fredrick Mayhawk. I've heard that name from somewhere," he says.

The eyelash batting is duly noted, but not yet returned.

"Oh?" Both of Frederick's eyebrows are raised, and his eyes are twinkling. "I hope it's not an unfavorable reputation that precedes me?"

He shakes his head. "No, no reputation at all. I've just heard the name mentioned around." And apologetic look. "Sorry. Should I have heard an unfavorable reputation?"

Frederick grins wide.

"I suppose that depends on what one would call 'unfavorable,'" he says, with a bit of a smirk. "And also on who you'd been talking to."

"I can't say I've been talking to anyone. I've just been listening." He smiles broader. "You learn more that way."

Frederick grins again, amused.

"I'm not sure that's one I've heard before, from an astromancer under Mars," he notes. "So tell me-- have you learned anything interesting today?"

"I'm all kinds of special."

He then shrugs a little. "No, not much today. Someone's cat attacked someone's little froo froo dog."

"Is there something specific you're looking for?"

Frederick's tone isn't suggestive, per se, but it seems to indicate some sort of double meaning.

"A good time? An interesting evening? The throne of England?" he's mildly joking on the last part.

Frederick's still smiling, but he raises an eyebrow.

"You might want to be careful with jokes like that, my friend," he says, adjusting one of his gloves. "The majority of people in this particular establishment are loyal to Her Majesty, you know. I've been told that some of her most trusted soldiers often frequent the place."

There's a sigh and a slump, knocking a few years off of his looks, giving him a rawer more innocent and sort of untried look. The way he picks at the edge of his sleeve. His hair flops over his eyes and covering his face.

There's a mumble of "Yes, I know."

Frederick eyes him for a few moments, still fiddling with his gloves. If this astromancer is one of Blight's followers, he's an incredibly careless one, so that hardly seems likely. Still, he shows a certain lack of regard for what's been happening in England lately, and while Frederick is in no position to lecture anyone about taking these things seriously, he can't help realizing, in the back of his mind, that he's basically agreed to die for the cause-- more of a guarantee than a possibility, at this point.

A brief silence hangs in between them that's almost uncomfortable. Frederick's eyes slide around the rest of the tavern; he's vaguely tempted to excuse himself. But he doesn't.

Instead, he leans forward again, saying lightly, "You never know when one of the Queen's dogs might be lurking around. Of course, if you say something like that loudly enough, you might get yourself that interesting evening you were looking for. Though perhaps not a good time." He grins.

What he has here is likely a rather sheltered, just out of the house for his first time entering the adult world teenager who has all the grasp on politics that a clam would have on bicycles. That being said, unlike the clam he can learn from his mistakes. IE: an idiot.

The uncomfortable silence makes him squirm and slouch a bit more. There's a brief look of defiance at the mention of the Queen's dogs getting a hand on him, the cocky sort of the young before common sense kicks in.

"Mum would kill me if that happened."

Frederick laughs. "They might save your mum the trouble.

"It sounds as though perhaps this woman has sheltered you. Are you quite new to astromancy?"

By the looks of him, Frederick could believe that this young man was not much older than seventeen, which would of course mean that his powers had only recently awakened. Though his mother apparently knows something about it, which makes Frederick curious. Really, she should have taught this boy a thing or two about the way the world works.

Gravely with perfect deadpan he says, "She'd bring me back and kill me again." Ah yes. The threats of mothers.

"Mum didn't think it was important for me to know those things. It's not like I'm going to live in the city or anything like that." He gives a shrug.

"I see," Frederick says, still clearly amused. "What brings you to London then, if I might ask?"

"Da convinced mum that I should at least spend some time here. Maybe meet some nice young lady or what have you."

"Is that so?" Frederick replies, with a bright smile. "Any luck so far in that regard?"

"No."

Sour look.

"And I don't wish to get married either."

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