rule two; backdated to January 21

[t_isfortease]

This fine morning, you might notice a bespectacled man making his way through the town. You might even run into him while he's

one: Passing through the street you live on. He seems to be minding his own business, just glancing at the houses and people as he strolls by.

two: Downtown, in and out of various establishments, always dismissing help

Comments

[ergaleomancer]

[The door opens and reveals a person that appears to be of the female variety, and certainly by Mayfield's standards she's been visibly crammed into a 'wife' slot. She wears the standard issue clothing, though she leans heavily on a dark wood cane with a brass ball top, obviously not from this setting. Her face quirks up into a smile when she sees the man, though something about her eyes isn't quite right, too harsh and cold, as though she wears the easy smile only because it pleases her and serves her ends. She meant to be polite, though; she'd been expecting him after all and even wanted to see him. Even accounting for Mayfield's removal of identifying clothing, she recognises his posture as far too straight to possibly be comfortable--that of an English gentleman. She moves away from the door, her body language inviting him in.]

Ah, you are indeed prompt. Please, come in, have a seat. I've already made tea, such as it is in this place.

[t_isfortease]

[ William looks away from the street to greet the woman who opens the door. He doesn't smile, merely dips his head slightly in acknowledgment. His eyes light on the cane for just a moment, but don't linger long enough to seem rude. The cane itself is more curious to William than the reason she might use it. Still, he inquires after neither.

He steps inside with another polite nod, his hands tangling briefly in front of him - he isn't wearing any gloves, so he can't take them off. He's quick to drop his hands again. ]

Lateness precludes greatness. [ He says it absently, as if in reflex, as he's glancing around the house. It's not very much unlike the house he woke up in, though he suspected that already. He settles at the table. ]

I realized that I failed to introduce myself earlier; my apologies. My name is William Spears.

[ergaleomancer]

[One thing marks out the house as different--there is what appears to be a large music box that would have looked appropriate in a home from the late eighteen hundreds. Next to it is a filled bookcase with boxes of cylinders to put in the player and change the music that played. Theta dips into the kitchen to bring out the teapot, just fresh now, and set it on the table. Then she extends her hand to him.]

A pleasure, though I would that the circumstances were better. Elizabeθ Buckley [That's pronounced Elizabetheta.] at your service.

[Her mannerisms are that of a man rather than a woman, if he notices the subtle details about how she holds herself.]

[t_isfortease]

[ He rises again to shake her hand, ever polite, and notes the strong handshake among other things. He isn't about to second-guess himself, though, and so: ] Miss Buckley, then.

[ Sinking back into his seat, he spares the room another brief glance before turning his full attention on her. ]

1

[tenderoblivion]

((Disclaimer: This response is from a drone and should not be regarded as coming from Yuki Nagato. If you would prefer not to interact with a drone, please don't hesitate to drop the thread. Thanks!))

[There is a shy-looking girl at the end of the street clutching a stack of papers to her chest. As William approaches, she glances up briefly, flushes crimson, then slowly moves to intercept him.]

E-Excuse me . . .

[t_isfortease]

[ William slows his steps to regard the girl somewhat critically. His voice is just as sharp. ]

Yes?

[tenderoblivion]

W-Would you take a look, Mr. Spears?

[A clipboard is tentatively thrust in his general direction as Yuki stares at the ground. It is for signatures to start up a Literature Club.]

[t_isfortease]

[ He stops properly after a moment and takes the clipboard from her hands to examine it. After scanning the sheet, he produces a pen from within his suit jacket and signs it with the quick sort of carelessness that comes from signing far too many papers. He hands the clipboard back to her. ]

Best of luck, Miss... ?