Who: Allyson & OPEN What:The stalking of shiny things. Random encounter. Where: Somewhere about 45 minutes or so from the UW, on foot. When: Friday afternoon. Warnings: General oddness. TBD otherwise.
Allyson had entirely forgotten that she'd been on her way home. About forty-five minutes prior, she had become distracted by a young man on the sidewalk, one wearing headphones around his neck and an unflattering beanie-cap. It wasn't the beanie that had caught her attention, though – it was the headphones, and the music streaming out of them. They weren't over his ears, and so it was plain enough for anyone passing. The song was familiar, and she'd thoughtlessly turned her steps to trail after him, trying to place the tune with only the snippets of sound that she could hear.
That song had ended, of course. Luckily, she'd settled on what it was a few moments before, and been very pleased with herself. Really, she should have known it right away. Corbinian's music was very familiar to her, and she was a little surprised that it had taken her so long to recognize it. There wasn't time to fret over this, though. That song bled into the next one, and the next and the next. By the time the boy with the headphones ducked into a shop, Allyson was quite far from where she'd started. In fact, when she lifted her head and really looked around, she hadn't any clue at all where she'd ended up.
Hmm. She would be late, she supposed, and her governessnannycaretaker housekeeper would be unhappy with her tardiness. But wasn't she usually? And really, who could say that Allyson was late at all? The moment that she arrived would be exactly the moment that she ought to have arrived, and not a minute sooner. Because if she had been meant to arrive earlier, than she would have done just that.
So instead of digging her mobile out of her bag and calling for a nice, speedy cab to take her back home, Allyson tarried. She turned back the direction that she'd come from (at least she thought she had come from that direction; the boy with the headphones had been more interesting than the turns that she was taking) and strolled back that way, peering idly at the buildings as she went along. The neighborhood was not as nice as her own neighborhood, she noted, but wasn't concerned. Why should she be?