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Post by votive on Sept 19, 2009 1:54:59 GMT
Most people define themselves by something. Some, it's their fashion. Others, their ability at something like an instrument, or a sport. Still others put stock in their intelligence.
Eoin was about as fashionable as last season's shoes, and couldn't sing or play an instrument to save his life. The only sport he'd have a fighting chance in would be martial arts; and even then, he'd never really fought because he thought it was FUN. And because he had fought. . . He knew he wasn't the brightest bulb on the Christmas tree, so to speak.
So Eoin, of course, focused on something a little easier for him. Honesty.
And that often got him into trouble, as it probably would today. He'd come to the inner courtyard to escape the stifling feel of scholarly arrogance that he thought emanated from the house. Of course, it didn't help that some, if not most, of the students he'd met weren't what he could call 'decent.' Self-absorbed and conceited, most of them seemed to be. Eager to spend their parent's money and proud of their lack of conscience.
Eoin sucked in a breath as he saw an approaching figure, exhaling upwards, ruffling his black bangs away from his forehead. Wonderful. With any luck, this was going to be another pompous ass.
"Afternoon." He called out, albeit somewhat drearily, with at least a hope that it wouldn't be met with a "fuck you."
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Post by Benjamin Giovanni on Sept 29, 2009 5:30:45 GMT
Benjamin had been reading a book as he was walking past the man. He hadn't really taken notice of him; and this became such a common thing for Benjamin. He had been sifting through the pages of an older book that he had found; as some might like to call it, the Koran. He wasn't muslim in any way, shape, or form, but he was interested in the lessons that it had to offer. he always wondered how text could drive a person.
He brushed lightly along Eion's shoulder as he moved past him and then looked at him oddly as he heard him say "Afternoon" he took a moment to place his index finger down on the book to mark his place. He looked up at Eion for a moment and noticed he was standing infront of an almost deathly thin man. "oh I apologize sir, I didn't see you there" he took out some loose change and then placed it in the man's hand "God works in mysterious ways sir. " he said to the man with a grin.
"I hope that this is enough. " he had given him about 4 pound and 55 pents. "that should be enough for a meal at a near by pub if you'd like one" he had a thick Italian accent as he smiled and then blessed him(In Italian) "I hope that fortune favors you more than it did at this current time." he turned back to his book and began to walk away slowly, he seemed to have lost his train of though and; as much as he wouldn't like to admit it, this conversation was the reason for it.
He had a smirk on his face as if he had done something great in the world as if everything was great, and that he had just done something amazing and truly noble, he hadn't though about the man's self of pride or the fact that he just openly might have insulted the poor man. He hadn't thought about it at all, though he did look well kept and everything looked maintain. it was a very vexing puzzle, and he was sure that it would be solved soon after. He was buried in his book as he stood in place for a moment and began to look through the pages and his finger hurried along the words trying to find it's place where it had been held only a few minutes prior to being interrupted.
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Post by votive on Oct 5, 2009 3:15:56 GMT
What the sodding black hell was that? Eoin summoned enough coherence of thought to blink, but that, for at least the next few seconds, seemed to be the extent of his thought processes for the moment. After a few seconds had passed, and he had actually managed to grasp what had happened, his eyebrows tried in vain to meet above his nose in a pensive frown.
He'd just been given money. Why? He certainly wasn't panhandling. And although some people probably thought he looked like a death-obsessed hobo, he wasn't entirely sure they were correct.
Had the money been intended as an apology? Weregild, perhaps? Eoin immediately dismissed that possibility. Weregilds only existed in ancient societies and fantasy novels these days. If there was anyone alive who still followed that policy, Eoin had yet to meet him. But now he felt compelled to at least investigate WHY he had been given money. Sure, he'd been bumped. But that was normal for Eoin! Hell, he'd had MUCH worse bumps, and some of them were even intentional.
Finally, perhaps the strangest detail entered his mind. The boy who'd done the bumping had been reading. . . The Koran? But the boy's accent was Italian! Another curiosity. And Eoin had such a burning desire to satisfy his curiosity. . .
So he immediately took off after Benjamin, hurrying slightly with his long legs to catch up. "Excuse me!" He said, his tone not one of offense, or even anger. "Excuse me!" He actually sounded. . . puzzled. "Um. . . No offense intended. But why are you reading the Koran?"
Not exactly the most intelligent sounding question, now that he thought of it. But it was by far the most straightforward. And Eoin was a big fan of straightforwardness.
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