silentspringlogs | (no subject)

Who: Norton Folgate and Open
When: February
Where: Various (Listed under the cut)
Open/Closed: Open
Applicable Warnings: TDM warnings apply

A. Smoke gets in your eyes: Haven Street

Norton lived through the Blitz, so smoke, checkpoints, and ~~Home Guard~~ civil defense out doesn't strike him as outrageously odd, but it does make him think there's probably something very interesting going on, especially since as far as he's aware, Sweetwater isn't being bombed or under imminent threat of invasion. He'll walk past the checkpoints daily, but doesn't try to cross. He'll strike up conversation with anyone else who might be lingering nearby, however.

And as the week goes on, with access to the market and, more importantly, the local diners cut off, Norton quickly starts to run out of food, or at least out of any food he's capable of making into something. He's never kept much on hand since his cooking skills are meagre at best. So he knocks on his neighbour's door, holding a small basket on his arm. When it opens, he doesn't waste time with pleasantries.

"I've a half cup of sugar, three tomatoes, and and a tin of condensed milk."

B. Everybody's somebody's fool: Marjorie's cocktail party

Norton knows how to dress for a cocktail party and he'll show up in a proper dinner jacket, his hair slicked with pomade. The suit he found in his closet isn't quite the cut he's used to--boxier than what he'd find at a London department store--but he thinks he makes it look good.

He smiles brightly and strikes up conversation with anyone nearby. After two cocktails, he starts to get a bit giggly besides, but his eyes stay sharp.

He's visibly a bit judgmental of people who aren't dressed well, looking them over with a raised eyebrow and pursed lips of disapproval. Just because they're trapped in a suburbia of evil, that's no good reason to be unfashionable. In fact, in a suburbia of evil where fitting in is essential to ones well-being, Norton thinks being fashionable is a survival skill.

C. Don't tell me why, kiss me goodbye: Norton's house

When the telly turns on by itself, Norton pays close attention to what's on the screen. Every strange occurrence is a clue and it's increasingly clear they aren't random. But then the woman's face shifts, becomes the face of a handsome Black man in a fedora and good suit. The sight of him makes Norton inhale sharply in surprise. After the initial shock, his lips thin and his jaw tightens and he refuses to have any further reaction than that.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

He hides the grim edge of a smirk and the threat of a blush behind his next sip of his drink.

"A perfect gentleman, I imagine," he comments, somehow managing to sound slightly bitter about the fact.

"Very professional. Still, I think we hit it off. Might have some things in common."

Norton can't get a proper read on Dr. Pollock. He wasn't hostile to Norton's strongly hinted interest, but Norton can't tell if that was just professionalism as a physician or if it was affinity. Just like he can't quite tell if Dr. Pollock's warning was a threat or advice.

If he could seduce him, that could be extremely useful blackmail.

"Really?" Well that was interesting. Not that Norton was so comfortable as to flaunt it, the man was utterly incorrigible and Arthur found himself quite fond of it despite himself, but that Norman would respond at all...

"All the best to you, in that case." And more of a dry mutter, barely shy of acidic, he adds, "God knows the man could probably use one. You'd have to tell me what he thinks of Officer Clark - they didn't seem altogether in tune the last time I saw them."

The fact that Norman was there when he was arrested is probably news for Norton; he doesn't know how much of their arrest Numbers shared.

"I haven't met Officer Clark yet. But then, I'm sure he's been terribly busy, what with all the barricades and such."

Norton knew that Arthur was tortured, and that Dr. Pollock was once again the torturer. But Clark and Pollock both being present at the same time, and being at odds, is news. Possible cracks to exploit in their captors' alliance? Definitely something to look into further.

He was going to say more about the barricades but then one of their neighbours walks by, dressed for something or another but definitely not for an evening cocktail party. Norton sniffs in disdain.

"I swear, you're one of the few here who can properly dress himself. A blind man quite literally has better fashion sense than some of these people."

"I wasn't always blind, you know," he points out, the dryness a bit more sincere than their aloof coded talk. "Until quite recently, I've been perfectly capable of dressing myself for events like this- I've been to them before, to some degree. Right now I just need my-" He clears his throat gently, still hating the concept but deeply protective of Helly. "My wife to help me make sure the colours aren't an awful nightmare and my tie's on straight."

"How did it happen, if you don't mind my asking?" Not exactly casual cocktail party talk, but Norton's curious and he's never been good at quashing his curiosity about anything ever.

"I read a bad book," he comments dryly, bordering snide, as if he were talking about a bad meal. "The contents of which were quite vehement about disagreeing with me."

"I hope you had an opportunity to give a poor review."

He's not sure if Arthur is joking or not. It seems like a joke, but Norton has seen a lot of very strange things in his time with Torchwood, so he can't entirely dismiss it.