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locke cole (lockecole) wrote in silverage,

It was places like this that reminded Locke of home. There were many similar shops he'd visited back when they were traveling and while most of them had been lost in rowdier and messier pubs, he and a few of his friends often found solace in quieter walls like the cafe. After all, they get their share of rowdy and mess with the battles they'd have to get through every day of the journey.

So it was easy to become a regular of the cafe and in so doing, he had gained a couple of friends who shared his enjoyment of movies and stage plays. That night, the topic was Hamlet.

"I'm not a fan of it," said his friend, the only one to join him for coffee that night. "It...I don't know, it's so tragic."

"Well, you don't call it a tragedy for nothing," Locke said with a small shrug although it was a little hard to do it in his position: his left arm was over his chair's support, his legs were crossed comfortably and he was rocking the entire seat by only his ankle. "I like it. It's very intense, very real."

"Real?" the friend asked with a shake of his head and a chuckle on his face, cup lifted to his lips. "You mean you've got Hamlets in your world, too. And Ophelias and Claudiuses."

"Sure do!" Locke said as he moved forward. "You can say that they existed once upon a time in the Fi-- whoah!" Before he knew it, he was waving his arms, falling backwards, and then a most impressive crash! announced his impact with the floor, just beside a red-haired woman's spot, actually. Locke thought it was...well, lucky that he missed her.

The cafe instantly fell silent as his friend came to his rescue and helped him up. "You all right?"

"Fine," Locke grunted and groaned as he accepted his friend's help and pulled himself up by the reaching hand. When sound resumed, he winced and rubbed a spot at the back of his head as he turned to the woman to his right. "Sorry about that." He was seeing stars behind his eyes.