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 [[They don't *normally* post together, so my apologies for the screwy layout. I tried to combine both of their essences (?) they're two very separate entities who juts so happen to be best buddies <3 and, erm, apparently out on the town together]] "All that I'm trying to say, Theron, is that Oligopolies and Monopolies and Monarch-opilies or whatever else the silly money lenders are calling the blasted things these days, are useless. We got rich through... well..." Dimitri paused, leaning on his cane. "How did we get rich?" "I think it was pie." The other man, standing in the shadows cast be a gargantuan concrete building. "I distinctly remember something to do with cherry pie." Dimitri brushed a few locks of his long, silvery hair out of his face. They blew past his shoulders and settled down around the tightly coven wool of his jacket, paying no heed to the orders of the red scarf flapping in the cool autumnal wind. "No, no, Theron, that was lunch." "Oh..." Theron paused, cleaning the lenses of a pair of mirrored sunglasses on the hem of his black cashmere sweater. His sea-blue eyes were wrinkled in apparent concentration as he thought. "Of course. Lunch." "Quite good, that was." Dimitri chuckled, starting off down the street once more. Theron shoved the sunglasses back onto his face and followed his companion down the sidewalk. Their postures were only minutely differnt; both men stood erect, even in the buffeting winds, their faces serene and oblivious to all passersby. Although Dimitri had been resting on his cane just moments before, he walked with simple ease, not using the instrument for suppport but rather as a directional tool, occasionally smacking Theron (and getting smacked right back) with it's silver handle. "Yes. Yes, most definitely lunch and not a moneymaking scheme. That wouldn't make any bloody sense. Cherry pie?" Theron laughed, kicking at the remnants of leaves. "Dimitri, you've known me for so, so long, my dear friend. Have I ever once given you a sensible, honest answer on your first attempt?" "Yes." "...When? I don't recall that?" "This morning when I asked you to lunch. You said, 'oh, yes, that'd be lovely. Just let me lock up Marcius and we'll get going.'" Swearing, Theron flinched and stopped in his tracks for a few moments. "Oh damn. Marcius." "Did you really lock him up? He'll destroy the house." Dimitri clucked his tongue, stepping lightly over what appeared to be a bloodstain, taking care to ensure that the soles of his leather loafers weren't sullied. Theron shrugged, his eyes straying in every direction behind the shield of his sunglasses. What a night for people watching, hmm? What liveliness for such an area of town. He chuckled to himself. "Well... I'm only renting." What life indeed. His eyebrows rose at the sight of the blonde trotting along a half mile before them. Ooh. Dinner? No. Bad Theron. Not dinner. You just had lunch! People aren't dinner, they're... they're... "Dimitri, what are people?" "What are people?" "Yes, well- I know they're not dinner-" He broke off as the girl disappeared into the doorway of a coffee shop. Damnit. He glanced over at Dimitri, raising his eyes to the heavens. What he wouldn't give to have someone else at his side right this very moment. Now it was going to be a clash. "C'mon, you, lessgo get coffee." "Well... all right then." Dimitri blinked, silvery-green eyes narrowed with suspicion. "But you'd better not try to set anyone on fire this time! That was mortifying!"  |