The other says he likes to watch 'the humans,' which-- from her experience with mortals and humans alike, they usually don't say that about other humans. "So what are you, then?" she demands to know, not much caring if asking so directly would be considered rude or not.

"That's true. But it's nice to roam around to see the humans and all of the shit they usually pull through" Guwon said with a shrug. "It keeps me entertaining getting in their way as well".

"Would it?" he asks, genuinely surprised that an outlet might shock him just because it was outdoors instead of inside. He'd never heard of that before, but he's never tried it, so she might well be right. What's not surprising, though, is that apparently Mu Qing hasn't mentioned having friends. Or even anyone to talk to, from the sound of it. "I don't think he really likes to admit it," Xie Lian tells her honestly. "But don't worry, he does talk to us." He thinks about what else might be critical for Mu Qing's coworker to know, and adds brightly, "Did you know that he helped me save a cat? She lives with him, though I go visit often. I can show you a photo as soon as my phone turns back on."

"take as long as you need, really." she has no problem letting him sit in the front room and charge his phone for an hour if he needs, she's sure she has plenty of work that could be done in that time. "wouldn't that risk shocking you? it seems like a dangerous idea." she raises an eyebrow, worried that the man would be in support of something that would likely hurt him. "oh, you are? i didn't know... i mean, he's never mentioned anyone. but i'm happy that he has people outside of work that he talks to."

"Of course. I'm sure it'll look wonderful, no matter what you pick," he says, greeting his friend with a warm smile. "Were you thinking of planting in dirt or mulch out front, or did you want potted plants for your porch?" He knows the flower shop has options either way, he'd just helped unload a new batch of spring arrivals the other day.

@mvsicinthedvrk

Tylor had agreed to meet Xie Lian at the flower shop. They were excited to see their plan, and get him to help them pick out flowers. They had just gotten their own home, and finally had a place to put flowers outside. They smile when they see Xie Lian. "Hi! I'm so happy you've agreed to help me! I want my new front porch to look amazing!"

He hums in quiet affirmation. "Vegetables can be expensive at the grocery, and usually people only need one or two here or there, it's not as though one person is taking all of them. But it's nice if they can take a few, if they need them. Someone always does." The vegetables collected never go to waste, and that's the important part.

"sure i will." zhur'ren wasn't quite positive he would find interest in this, but he looked over the area all the same. though he was curious of what the plants would come to look like. he didn't spend much time gardening back home. "so you do all this work and just give it away for free?"

Xie Lian cannot claim that orchard profits are something that he'd ever even vaguely considered, so he nods, trusting Shen Qiao's explanation without question. "I bet we'll fit at least twenty in the basket," he says optimistically. Which is probably far more than they need anyway, considering that pies are generally small, and the basket is decently large. They might even have enough for two pies, which might be best, given that the first may not be the best effort (though he's greatly improving). He reaches out to take the offered apple, alternating between lightly squeezing that one and the previous one. They're slightly different sizes, so apparently that doesn't matter. "I think I understand," he declares, feeling confident he can follow the good apple's example. He sets it in the basket and tosses the other one gently into the grass, where a bird might be able to enjoy it. It can still be decent food for pigeons, if not pies. "You know, this is nice. I haven't spent much time outside lately... With everything blooming again, the air's so fresh. I always forget how much I enjoy the spring until it's spring again."

                     “Well, there are a few others that do,” Shen Qiao clarifies, “but certainly not all of them. I think it has to do with the profits of the orchards, but they may also simply be protecting their own crops. Either way, at this place, we are free to bring home all the apples we can fit into our basket.” That would still put a limit on the amount of apples they could bring home, but it should be more than enough for a big apple pie and leave a bunch to snack on during the day. More importantly, it made for a nice day trip for Xie Lian and him; it felt like he hadn’t gotten much time to see his old friend lately. Schedules had grown a little more cramped, and beyond that, he may have subconsciously kept a bit of distance, trying to figure out a few things by himself. The realization stirs up a faint hint of guilt, so Shen Qiao is happy to let himself get distracted from the nagging feeling, if momentarily. “The color can be very misleading,” he muses; based on color alone, Xie Lian had managed to find one of the best ones around. Shen Qiao, on the other hand, reaches for an apple that is far less outstanding, fingers pressing gently against the firm shape in his hand. He’s already quickly decided that one will be perfect for the pie they’ll be baking, plucking it and handing it over to his friend. “Here. Try to squeeze that one to compare.” 

The other does answer him instead of just waving him off right away; thank goodness. "Do you any specific examples?" he asks, unconsciously screwing and unscrewing the cap from the pen in his hands as he speaks. "I, uh-- there've been a few strange things I know I read about in the newspapers from the last few years, but to be honest, I'd only skimmed them, the newspaper's not always very trustworthy. And I only just arrived here a few months ago, so I think might've missed a lot..."

Looking up at the sky, Carmilla leaned against the statue with her arms crossed over her chest. It was a calm night and even though her hunger was sated, she couldn't deny the fact that it was rather lonely around this time. The devil's hour, the time people either were still at work, getting home from work or were sleeping soundly in their beds. Letting out a soft sigh, the vampire was ready to head home herself when she was stopped by someone, arching a brow while she listened to him. "What kind of scary? This town itself has a tendency to be scary"

Martin certainly hadn't been the one to tell her to put heels on to come outside, not in the grass when it's this damp. It seems silly to have worn them in the first place. His eyebrows shoot sky-high when she mentions being here for community service. "Oh." That's-- fine. If she'd done something seriously criminal, she wouldn't have been allowed out here, he thinks, more to attempt to convince himself than because he truly feels comfortable. "I'm going to go grab some more gloves," Marin says swiftly just to distance himself a little from the other, though he cringes as he feels the compulsion to add, "Do you want a pair as well?"

"ew. you have me out here in these heels picking up trash?" she asked the other, shaking her head. "oh, wait. i know why i am here." verosika hummed, a little pissed. her probation officer told her she had to come help out to lessen her time. community service was apparently a thing here. "i'm doing community service."

"That's good to know," she says approvingly, when the other mentions taking time for himself amidst all this business as well. That's important, she thinks. Junyi opens her binder, riffling through the tabs for the right section as she adds, "While I have you here, I might get your opinion on a color scheme, I'm torn between two options, and I'm not sure which is more appropriate for the event..."

"Yes! I think so anyways, I didn't know all the holidays until I came here." He nods. "I don't work all the time. I do give myself time to spend with my girlfriend, Sally, and time to myself. But she works a lot as well, so I do have plenty of time to check my email. And if it's urgent, you can always let me know."

"Your dress is fine, I promise. You look charming," she says, meaning every word of it. Even if Martha's not exactly dressed as formally, she's still... adorable, Junyi thinks. She laughs a little at the other's question, glancing down as her cheeks turn slightly pink. She goes on, just as genuinely: "It may be early to say this, but I hope you'll cry on my shoulder whenever you need to." Whether that's at the ballet or not.

"-oh great, do you think I should change- i'm not sure if my dress screams for the ballet." she giggled softly, "-well if it's sad, can I use your shoulder to cry on?" she asked with bright eyes, not realizing how cheesy that question was; maybe because she meant it.

He exhales in relief and leans down to set the dog on the ground, though it hops out of his arms before he's even halfway there and begins to run circles around his feet-- and the other's, too-- yipping excitedly. "See? I really didn't trust him alone in the street, he was like that all along," Martin says, spinning a bit trying to keep an eye on the little animal. "I didn't think to look on the ground for a collar or anything, but there wasn't one on him when I picked him up-- I hope it's alright I brought him here, I didn't quite know what else to do."

"oh, yes, we do, actually." she can't help but laugh a bit at the man clearly struggling to hold the overexcited pup. "you can put her down for a second, if you like, he's not getting out the door." the building had a small atrium after the first door specifically to avoid animals running off and getting out. "looks like you've made a friend, no matter where he comes from." she jokes, a bit awkwardly, as she steps into the back room to find the scanner. "it might not register immediately, but if there is one i should be able to find it."

It's great when his suggestions aren't second-guessed by someone who thinks they know better. So he sets the kettle on the back counter on to boil-- he's learned that's generally more acceptable than just using hot tap water-- and snags a bag of tea out of the drawer. In the mug, he pours a generous helping of whiskey, tosses the teabag in, and tops it off with a splash or two of water once the kettle screeches. "There you go," he says, sliding the mug over to the other with great confidence.

Aedhan listens to the man's suggestion. They don't really know what to order, so they know it's best to go with what the man suggests. "I'll take the tea and whiskey then!" They look at the options and frown. That is a lot of options. So many different things to try. But, they know having too much alcohol may not be a good idea. They don't know what their tolerance is like. "I think I'll start with the first drink, and see how I do with that before I try anything else. But maybe another time."

The man doesn't sound nearly as convinced as Pei Ming feels about his potential stallion status, but he's sure that he knows himself better than the other. "Where are the ones with naked women on the cover?" he asks, since he's significantly less interested in the ones with the men. It seems like the other knows this section of books fairly well, so if anyone would know, it's probably him. He doesn't pay much attention otherwise to the man's wordy little ramble, though he does chuckle when he's finished. Ha. Pei Ming's not a nerd, he's right. "Thank you," he confirms warmly.

"Uh, yeah I mean I guess. You look like you could be the type, good for you." Qinghua said, not sure if that actually sounded like a compliment or not, but hey, the guy was attractive, and seemingly confident, so why not. He probably wasn't the sort of lead Qinghua liked, not unless there was some extreme angst hidden in there, but for a regular Stallion novel it made sense. "That's probably why you get so many books with have naked men on the cover. Though I guess it's only a problem for more intense books you know, like, any nerdy readers aren't going to be as worried about something like that hopefully. Not that you look like you'd know, not that you look illiterate, just not like a nerd." Qinghua rambled, not calm enough to keep his mouth shut but not nervous enough to watch his words carefully.

"Well-- Shannon," Pei Ming addresses the other, glancing down at the name tag that had been shoved in her hand. "I can thank you for not letting me waste my time. Barbara sounds like a bitch," he evaluates cheerily. At least, he imagines the manager must have done something to deserve that tone. "Though I don't really want your name tag, either." He flicks it back in her direction.

starter for pei ming ! @mvsicinthedvrk

"I don't work here," Shannon replied to some customer at the clothing store where she did, in fact, work. "Actually, I quit." She raised her voice and turned, screaming in the direction of her manager, "Do you hear me Barbara?! I quit!" She practically ripped off her name tag and handed it to Pei Ming on her way out the door. "Here. And don't waste your time shopping in this shithole. The plastic in that name tag is probably worth more than any of the crap for purchase here."

"I don't personally observe them daily," he states formally, wanting to make sure he gives the other a fully accurate picture of the situation. "But given the statistics, that's correct." He doesn't have much of an opportunity to see oddities like this too often, since he mostly stays focused in his office or at home, but when he's out in the city, there have been a number of incidents he knows happened, or that he witnessed in passing.

"A child was floating in the air? Well, the firefighters seem to have that under control, but they didn't mention the child was flying." Athena admitted with a shake of her head. What kind of place did she get thrown into? It sounded like she was in a weird dream. "So strange incidents happen like this on a daily occurrence?"

"Correct. I was here for almost a year without my memories, but I never died to retrieve them. On the murderous Valentine's Day, I escaped the chaos by the humbling fortune of having no date, and over Halloween, I was lucky enough to stumble across a less awful section of the corn maze and camped out there until it was over," he reports straightforwardly. "During the summer of the serial killers, we had a tough summer legislative session, and I didn't get out of the office. My memories did simply come back without warning." Feng Yu senses the annoyance in the other's voice, and he can acknowledge that it's likely warranted; he hadn't tried to get them back, as he hadn't known he had anything missing to remember in the first place. It had been sheer luck, and otherwise he'd likely still be working with no clue he had a brother here to miss at all. When Mu Qing settles down at the table, Feng Yu takes another seat, reaching for one of the two cups of coffee without having to be told that it's his. "Are your own memories fully returned?" The man must have at least some of them, if he'd mentioned meeting Feng Xin at the palace.

                      “You arrived without your memories?” Mu Qing states more than he asks; the questions rising from those few words are aimed moreso at himself than they are at Feng Xin’s brother. Mainly, because that meant that his memories must have returned at some point in time. Either the way they’d tried to return Xie Lian’s memories after his death, or the other way— by actually dying. Tactlessly, that happens to be the first thing he thinks of asking. “Have you died then? I mean, after arriving in the city?” That would be the fastest, most surefire way to retrieve one’s memories, or so he had unfortunately come to learn. He’d never heard of anyone dying and then staying dead, but that still wasn’t a risk he’d be willing to take. Though, after being stuck with the shackle for so long, he has to admit that the thought has crossed his mind, if briefly. He can’t very well ask Feng Xin or Xie Lian for more information on how to get rid of it. But Feng Yu doesn’t know enough about him to judge him for asking a few questions, he figures, so Mu Qing can’t help but inquire further: “If you haven’t, you must have gotten your memories back some other way. Or did you just magically wake up with them one day, without even trying?” Aggravation raises the pitch of his voice near the end of the sentence, feeling a little irked by the possibility that some people were just that lucky. Amicable though Feng Yu may be, it sounds a little bit like he may just be that type of person. “I don’t remember seeing you around, either.” It’s easier, more gratifying (and gentler to his ego) than to admit he must have been too low in rank to catch the man’s attention. Mu Qing tears his attention away for a moment when the aromas of fresh coffee hit his nostrils, moving to pour two cups and place them at the table, each one across from the other. He’ll trust that Feng Yu has enough common sense to find his own seat, after Mu Qing has settled himself at the other side. “It’s fine. I’ve tried to get him to clean up before, but he’s terrible at it— he’ll only end up making a worse mess of the house.”

Feng Xin doesn't know what causes the memory loss, or gain, no more than anyone else does, it seems. Almost any question Feng Yu's grown to have about this place has resulted in an inevitable non-resolution. At this point, he's not sure that he ever expects answers. He nods, though, when the other notes that having someone else here before him had helped him adjust. "Are you still guarding him, here?" It's not as though Xianle is a political state anymore, so no one likely cares who the former crown prince is or where he is; Feng Yu imagines he can't have many enemies, for that reason. And if that's the case, a guard is probably not a critical position, though maybe with all of the chaos in the city, it still can't hurt. "Or do you have a different career now," he adds inquisitively.

he should probably feel... he doesn't even know, angry? at the fact that none of them had really seen him all that often after he'd become the prince's guard, but it's not like he'd made the effort either. and it's so far in the past, and so overshadowed by the relief that feng yu, at least, is back and okay, that he can't make himself feel it. "yeah, i've definitely gotten a bit taller." probably due to the way he was perceived by his worshippers, though he knew he'd definitely grown bulkier as well, though centuries of almost nothing but physical activity. "oh... yeah, that does happen. don't really understand what causes it." beyond the obvious, but if his brother isn't going to bring that up, he sure as hell isn't going to. "i remembered some when i got here, but not everything. so adjusting was a little rough, but the crown prince had been here a while before me, so he helped. i'm doing good now, i don't mind it all that much here."

Two decades? Twenty years, there's absolutely no way. At least he recognizes the name of the archives, but Martin's not sure that's much of a win, considering Jon sounds so certain that he doesn't work there. It's such a shame that there's nothing Martin has that can prove Jon's his boss. There's no business card in a pocket, there's no photos of Jon with all the assistants-- there's no hard evidence that they'd known each other, and that's the only thing that would have even vaguely convinced the other that Martin was being honest. He doesn't have Jon's number in this new phone he'd gotten here, and he doesn't-- they'd never spoken about personal topics enough for him to be able to give the other proof that Martin really knows him. And if he did manage it, then it's likely enough Jon would just assume he'd stalked them, or something. "You've not been concussed, or kidnapped as far as I know. Adult-napped. Abducted, that's the word..." But that doesn't matter. Jon seems willing enough to awkwardly laugh off the coincidence and leave, thinking Martin's only homesick and... hallucinating, or whatever. "I know how you take your tea," he adds with a small bit of desperation, quickly grasping at straws. "I make it for you all the time. Made it, I mean. I can prove it to you!" As soon as he says it, he realizes how stupid it sounds, but it's too late to take it back, and as unfortunate as it is, that's really the only evidence he can think of.

So he was a new hire? Or at least that's what Jon assumed at the first sentence only for the man to keep talking. At least he got himself going before Jon could attempt to come up with some busy work to pass off until he spoke to someone about involving him at least a little bit more in the hiring process. That was still a conversation they should probably try to have but it could wait until another day. It did leave room for new concerns though, and Jon knew his brow was furrowed, just looking at the stranger for several moments after he stopped speaking, like staring might somehow make the whole situation make sense." "I haven't been in London in nearly two decades." Jon finally stated bluntly. "And while I do work in tandem with the Magnus Archives occasionally, but I certainly don't work there." God, he couldn't imagine what a nightmare that would be, considering the place. They seemed behind every time he had shown up, and sitting around listening to ghost stories or hungover college kids sounded something akin to a nightmare in Jon's opinion. "I think...Well there must be some sort of mistake or misunderstanding happening here." Jon said, always one to look for a logical conclusion even when it seemed far from sight. "Perhaps you're struggling with some homesickness, as it seems you're rather recently in a new country." He added, his tone even and not necessarily sympathetic, though free of judgement. It wasn't a feeling he could relate to very well, but they could at least understand looking for familiar faces even where they didn't exist. "That or I've been kidnapped, lied to, and horribly concussed, but I'm sure I would have noticed the bruising that would develop from that." He added, an awkward chuckle coming with the words that really didn't feel all that funny. There was a reason he hardly attempted jokes.