What Pan was doing at the outdoor mall was anyone's guess, then again what Pan was doing anywhere at any given time was something of a mystery, even to him. The man just wandered through life, not really seeking purpose because, well, he was a god. His purpose was to be worshiped and awesome and all that, and with that in his past, the only thing that remained was to enjoy life or to go insane seeking some new purpose. While he was probably a hair short of sane, Pan found no reason not to enjoy life to the fullest, so that was just what he did, usually to the suffering of all those around him. Today his wandering had brought him to Hollywood and Highland, probably drawn by the scent of Beard Papa's cream puffs, he did have a heck of a sweet tooth. A puffy, cream filled pastry in one hand, powdered sugar all over his mouth and one hand shoved into the front pocket of his jeans, Pan shuffled his way up the steps to take in the gaudy decor of the mall. He snorted out his nose, a very goat-like sound, spraying powdered sugar in a small cloud before him as he wondered if the horrible, over-sized and over-done attempts at Egyptian hieroglyphs and the big elephants sitting on their rumps gave power to any gods, or just insult. Pan was siding with insult at the moment.
He was one bite from finishing his snack when music exploded, and with the music came people. They danced in a coordinated display in perfect time with the music, and for a moment, Pan was elated. He promptly stuffed the pastry into his mouth and began bouncing and dancing along with them. He had no idea what he was doing, of course, and looked even more ridiculous. He was out of sync, all long arms and flailing gestures and stood several inches taller than almost everyone else in the mob, but he did not care, and no one else really seemed to. They had materialized around him, so while he was not part of the planned event, he became part of it and made the other dancers look all the better for his poor performance. He was all smiles, of course. A huge grin lighting his face and eyes as he bounced, bobbed, twirled and did his best impression of dance.
At last he was finding himself slightly winded, and one of the females he had been dancing by had gotten tired of his long limbs randomly lashing out to smack her in the middle of her dance moves. What? It had been an accident. Mostly. He had managed to cop a quick feel. She grabbed his arm, spun and slung the thin man towards the sidelines. Pan was all manic giggles as he stumbled forward, crashing into the nearest thing. A thing called Simon, he would later learn. His gangly form came flying like a monkey, arms spread as his feet tripped over themselves. He collapsed heavily on the seated man as one hand slammed down on the table, very near knocking it over as he tried to push himself back up. He let out a short yowl as hot water from the now overturned cup of tea sloshed on his hand.
"Ooh, hey there little buddy!" Pan said brightly as he hauled himself off of the other's lap. It was a strange collision, he had first wrapped himself around the other man, then an instant later, seemed to be comfortably seated in his lap. "Sorry about that," he grinned, reaching to muss up Simon's hair. "Accidents happen, you know. Fun party, isn't it? Did you know this was going to happen?" Aaron finally dragged himself off of Simon and his now ruined tea and sprawled his lanky body in the chair on the other side of the table. His lean chest rose and fell quickly, panting from his effort in dancing. It was then that he spotted the packed lunch and his stomach rumbled again, despite the freshly-consumed pastry. "Ooh, whatcha got?" He asked, reaching suddenly to grab for the bag so he could rummage through it. No introductions, no asking permission, Pan was perfectly comfortable acting this way around a complete stranger. Of course this funny looking guy did fill Pan with a sense of familiar, so maybe they weren't complete strangers? Pan never had been good with faces, anyway.