the taste of iron was RIPE in his mouth, his mouth twisting into a grimace as he avoided smiling and putting his blood-stained teeth on display. Not that he got away with it. He’d wiped his face as clean as he could, but there were still cuts and bruises and his knuckles - red as a fire engine. fuck subtlety right up the ass, he says. he spit out the leftover blood in his mouth and pushed a fry between his lips. perhaps the safest place to be in posh, freaky little areas like these was leaning up against the side of a fast-food restaurant where each meal did not even qualify as ‘pocket change’ for the residents. what was worth less than pocket change? WHATEVER.
his expression fell. he still managed to run into someone he recognised. dandy. so much for ‘safe’. “slumming it, I see,” he remarked, shovelling another fry in his mouth. “all these grand and wonderful artefacts of colonial history and accelerated capitalism to visit and you found yourself in the parking lot of a mcdonalds? we have these at HOME, y’know. i mean, s’probably one of the more honest landmarks of modern capitalism, but i still believe when in rome,” he paused to lick some salt off the pad of his thumb, his whole lower lip stinging when it came into contact. “or in this case, romneyland, you do as the romneys do. see the sights, ignore the homeless, pretend to enjoy a soggy meal of mushy peas and fried fish with zero seasoning and call it a day after having two ‘pints’ and knocking the fuck out.”
jet lag was a monster, when the sun was up here, the moon was high in her mind. at the time, it was definitely the opposite. most of the agents back at the LSEA headquarters were already preparing for bed, meanwhile she was as perky as a tit, slipping on her trusty sneakers for a nightly walk. with the mission coming up, lotte felt it to be a good idea to get a good lay of the land - to just meander and see where each step in front of her led her.
having grown up exclusively in big cities, the mysticism of the bright, london lights was lost on her, but she’d be lying if she said that the mish-mash of old and new architecture wasn’t a pleasurable sight. in some cases she felt smushed in between tight alleys, and in others it felt like she could fit hundreds of herself in the boulevards. broadness and quaintness came in equal strokes, but no matter where she looked it was always utterly european.
maybe it was for that reason that the mcdonalds stuck out to her like a sore thumb. it seemed like such a stark contrast when compared to its ritzy locale. or, just maybe, it was some strange straw of fate pulling her there. she was never a superstitious woman, but even she couldn’t help but guffah at the sight of one of her teammates loitering around in the parking lot, seemingly beat to shit and just munching on fries like it didn’t even matter. of all the times, all the neighborhoods, all the mcdonalds in fucking london, they’d both wound up at the same one at around the same time. lotte couldn’t help but snort, “ nah, just stalking you. ”
she stepped forward to plop down beside him, knees curling loosely to her chest as her shoulders slumped against the building. “ never took you for a conformist, guerrero, though 2 pints and some z’s definitely doesn’t sound bad. ” she paused, eyes scanning the dark sky for even the smallest hint of a star behind the smog. no dice. “ hard pass on the fish and peas though. ”
