InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "Hairgasm!"

William Anthony Biggs-Turner (britishice) wrote in badwater_rpg,
@ 2009-01-13 08:52:00

Entry tags:

camilla jescot, january, william biggs-turner

Who: William and Camilla
What: Meeting
Where: A park
When: Monday afternoon
Rating: PG-13 for William's grump-face

William loved his job. One, he never had to go into an office or work with people. Two, he could do his job anywhere and three, he could take a nap whenever the hell he wanted. To sum it all up? He was his own boss in the world and that was a-okay for him. So since the skies were somewhat clear, even if there was still snow on the ground, the man bundled up and left his empty house. Sadly Brendan had to work, so William was often left alone during the day to his own vices which was okay, he supposed. Brendan tended to distract him from his writing anyway. So on Monday he got bored of the house, which caused him to seek out a bench in a nearby park where he often liked to sit and write.

Plopping down onto it - surprised to find it was dry - he pulled his laptop out of its bag and put it on his lap. He opened it up and pressed the on button, looking around as the HP notebook booted up. It was perfectly quiet all around which was nice and once windows loaded he pulled up his novel and began typing away.

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camillajescot
2009-01-12 11:58 pm UTC (link)

Camilla had finished teaching for the day and gone home, but she had felt restless, and decided to walk around the neighbourhood to see what was in the area. She found a coffee shop right across from the park and bought an extra large steamed milk befor heading out to walk through the park, hanging onto it to keep her warm in the cold air. She sipped it, enjoying the warmth of it in her hands and in her belly, even enjoying the cold air against her skin, turning her cheeks and nose rosy pink. She liked the cold more and more lately, since her mysterious fever was increasing it seemed with every day. She'd gone to a doctor back home, but they'd found nothing, equating it to stress or grief over her grandmother's death, her emotions run amok. She never dared mention the mysterious event with the fire in the park with her dog that stopped as she'd needed it to.

Camilla tried not to think about it much, about the way her skin felt hot to the touch all the time now. She didn't have any other symptoms, nor did she feel sick in any way. She just wore a few less layers and let her scarves hang loose. The cool air actually felt nice against her skin, though she wasn't yet warm enough that the steamed milk was any less delicious to her in such chilly weather.

As she ambled through the largely empty park, she smiled at a man sitting on a bench working on a laptop. He didn't notice her, but something about him seemed familiar. She slowed her pace, watching him as he passed, trying to place him.

Where had she seen his face before? Where, where, where... And then in clicked. He'd looked up at her from the jacket of two of her favourite books, and then from articles in the New York Post. He was Bill Biggs, the author.

Her smile grew wider and she veered casually to head for the bench, sitting at the other end and trying not to watch him. As soon as she sat down, she felt stupid.

What was she going to say to him?

She looked down at her cup, picking at the lid and angling looks at him. Her cheeks were pinker still than they'd been before, with embarrassment now. She was acting like a child.

"Excuse me, sorry to interrupt. You're Bill Biggs, aren't you?" she asked then, trying to sound like an adult.

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britishice
2009-01-13 01:02 am UTC (link)

It was almost ironic the two meeting like that. Fire and ice, sitting together on a park bench. If only they were aware of each others abilities. However they weren't and since he'd been tailed, William rarely ever spoke out loud to anyone about the power he had. He himself still had to bundle up in the winter because while his ability didn't drop his body temperature much, it certainly didn't aid in keeping him warm. When the young woman sat beside him he silently hoped she was just resting on the bench and wouldn't try to strike up a conversation.

Yet he'd seem to have jinxed it and not only was she talking to him, but she was a fan. Yes his publishers and agent had encouraged him to be more friendly with the fan base but, come on. Did he really have to talk with every fan that recognized his face from the book covers? Finding he couldn't just ignore her and make a quick escape without risking damage to his laptop he just tilted his head and glanced at her, eyebrows raising.

"William, but yes. One in the same." His crisp British accent was plainly obvious and hadn't faded all that much even after his time in the states. The only thing that had really changed was his vocabulary and his use of more American-appropriate slang terms. "I assume you are a fan?"