InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "It's funnier in enochian"

Professor Randolph Lyall (professorbeta) wrote in colligo_threads,
@ 2011-02-15 16:57:00

Entry tags:

!@event, !closed, john druitt, randolph lyall

WHO: John Druitt & Randolph Lyall
WHAT: Two Victorian Gentleman discuss the indelicacy of their situation & other pressing issues.
WHERE: Their new flat
WHEN: February 15th; Afternoon
RATING: PG
STATUS: In Progress

Lyall hadn't known what to think of the situation that this city had dropped him into. Even having been a pack animal for so long, being on his own wasn't quite as objectionable as it might have been, but this, this, was just unacceptable. Marriage was an institution that was not supposed to be entered into lightly, and certainly not by force. But yet here they were.

The one thing that Lyall could be thankful for was that at least he had been saddled with someone reasonable, even if it was another guy. As a werewolf, though, Lyall had gotten used to masculine - for the lack of a better word - puppy piles a long time ago so whatever awkwardness that a normal daylighter from his time period might have felt towards the required sleeping situation was non-existent. Lyall's indignation was more towards being forced into matrimony. As someone who was three hundred years old, he had loved and lost many times over the years, and marriage was something that he took seriously.

And the fact of the matter was, he didn't know this John. And that mattered a great deal more to Lyall than any of the other objections that might spring to someone else's mind. But it seemed as though he would be given no choice but to get to know him as it had been a few days and this ridiculous situation had yet to conclude.

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professorbeta
2011-02-25 06:00 am UTC (link)

"A small one," Lyall said, glancing back over at John at the question. He wasn't usually much of a drinker, especially this early in the afternoon, but with the moon rather rapidly approaching and him in the situation of having yet to sniff out a proper keep to seal himself in for the night, the stress was starting to bear down upon him even more than it had been when he'd arrived with so many messes to clean up. So one drink wouldn't hurt anything. In fact, it might help to calm his nerves, nerves that hadn't been so wrecked about a full moon since his first proper one. "I'd rather keep my head for the evening."

Not that he'd exactly lose it considering he had a considerably higher tolerance for alcohol than even other werewolves (age playing a factor in all thing supernatural), but as there were very few people who knew that, it was always a handy excuse to utilize when he really didn't feel like batting off too many offers.

"I'm assuming this city doesn't have any proper dungeons in it," Randolph said, looking over at John. "Being all concrete and asphalt instead of mortar and stone."

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