Alfie Solomons (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
devoutish) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
calling_logs2016-06-02 01:07 pm
devoutish) wrote in calling_logs2016-06-02 01:07 pm
Entry tags:
[open]
WHO: Alfie Solomons AND YOU
WHAT: a 1920s gangster attempts to get his bearings
WHEN: 6/2
WHERE: in and around McAran Tower in the City of Tomorrow
NOTES/WARNINGS: Prose and actionspam replies are both welcome!
Eventually, Alfie presses the transport button.
Arrival is as simple as he'd hoped it would be, and as confusing and overwhelming as he'd expected it to be. The buildings are far taller than anything he's seen in real life before - taller, even, than the American skyscrapers he's seen in photographs. The satellite is also completely new to him, and though he's generally very good about keeping his emotions in check, his mouth does drop open in awe at the sight. But if anyone approaches him, or even if he notices anyone just watching, he'll quickly shed the newly-arrived tourist look and immediately start projecting calm, controlled confidence. Sometimes it pays to bluff.
Once he makes his way into McAran Tower, he spends a bit of time in quiet conversation with the woman at the front desk. If anyone else starts to get too close during this, he stops talking and turns around to face them. He addresses them in a friendly enough manner - "There, there's a spot you can wait at until it's your turn; just be a bit patient, yeah?" - but if they try to stick around anyway, he'll stare at them with an unsettling intensity, hoping to make them uncomfortable enough to get the hint and go away.
Finally, he wanders. He sticks around the tower and the square in front of it for today, sometimes walking around and other times finding a place to sit and people-watch. With his old-fashioned clothes and a top hat pulled low over his eyes, he sticks out among most of the people around him, but this doesn't appear to bother him. Whatever he's thinking and feeling on the inside - and he's definitely thinking and feeling a lot - he's going to do his very best to appear perfectly comfortable here.
The pistol hidden away in his pocket, of course, goes a long way towards helping with that.
WHAT: a 1920s gangster attempts to get his bearings
WHEN: 6/2
WHERE: in and around McAran Tower in the City of Tomorrow
NOTES/WARNINGS: Prose and actionspam replies are both welcome!
Eventually, Alfie presses the transport button.
Arrival is as simple as he'd hoped it would be, and as confusing and overwhelming as he'd expected it to be. The buildings are far taller than anything he's seen in real life before - taller, even, than the American skyscrapers he's seen in photographs. The satellite is also completely new to him, and though he's generally very good about keeping his emotions in check, his mouth does drop open in awe at the sight. But if anyone approaches him, or even if he notices anyone just watching, he'll quickly shed the newly-arrived tourist look and immediately start projecting calm, controlled confidence. Sometimes it pays to bluff.
Once he makes his way into McAran Tower, he spends a bit of time in quiet conversation with the woman at the front desk. If anyone else starts to get too close during this, he stops talking and turns around to face them. He addresses them in a friendly enough manner - "There, there's a spot you can wait at until it's your turn; just be a bit patient, yeah?" - but if they try to stick around anyway, he'll stare at them with an unsettling intensity, hoping to make them uncomfortable enough to get the hint and go away.
Finally, he wanders. He sticks around the tower and the square in front of it for today, sometimes walking around and other times finding a place to sit and people-watch. With his old-fashioned clothes and a top hat pulled low over his eyes, he sticks out among most of the people around him, but this doesn't appear to bother him. Whatever he's thinking and feeling on the inside - and he's definitely thinking and feeling a lot - he's going to do his very best to appear perfectly comfortable here.
The pistol hidden away in his pocket, of course, goes a long way towards helping with that.
no subject
That's the first thing Scott says because 1) the guy's in these old-ass clothes; 2) he has the whole facial hair thing going on, even if it's the wrong kind of facial hair; and 3) he's a pretty shitty conversationalist, to begin with.
It's just comforting in some schadenfraude-esque way to know that there's someone in this shiny, technologically-enhanced city that is maybe more lost than he is. Scott's not that nice a guy; he's nice, but not nice enough to approach total strangers without some veritable reason. Anyway, the point is: the stranger looks more out of place than him, so here Scott is being a tool.
He offers a short smile, but doesn't sit immediately. "If you're not trying to attract any attention, you're doing kind of a crap job at it."
no subject
"Nah mate, I'm not trying to do anything in particular, much less anything having to do with Abraham Lincoln. Are you from here, or did you hit the little button and travel?"
no subject
"But it's okay. Not important." There's a little hand wave, now. "This your first time here?"
no subject
/shifts to brackets UH
o7