Take your pick (Tristian)

[Richard Locksley]

Richard stared up at the menu board with an increasingly confused expression. Chicken nuggets? Why was the chicken in nugget form? Why wasn't it just.. chicken? And what was a burger? What was wrong with just roasting a haunch of beef and getting on with it, all these weird shaping processes seemed pointless, they were just going to get eaten anyway. Did it actually change the flavour of anything?
Which, really, was the big question, perhaps if it did change the flavour that would be an explanation, but it also made his choice even more difficult, how did he know that just because he liked chicken that he would like it in nugget form? What if a beef burger was not as nice as a roast? He had expected a number of confusing things coming to this school, he had not anticipated food being one of them.

He heard footsteps, seeing another figure appear out the corner of his eye, somebody else coming to peruse the food. He contemplated for just a moment, weighing up the options of admitting he didn't know what he was doing versus actually getting some help. He decided admitting any kind of defeat, even to a stranger in a restaurant, was not an option, so instead he summoned up his most imperious tone and turned to the newcomer.
"What's good here?"

Asking for recommendations wasn't the same as asking for help. It was a subtle difference, but he'd take it.

[Tristian]

Tristian has been looking at his phone when the guy in front of him turned round and asked his question. He quickly clicked the button at the side of it so that he couldn't see what had previously been on the screen. When he looked up he took a brief moment to really appreciate the handsomeness in front of him. Those eyes, they were just...

After that brief moment he smiled and said, "Absolutely nothing. It's all greasy filth so none of it is good. But it's briefly satisfying which is almost as good. If I were you I'd try the," he squinted and looked at the sign hanging over head, "finger lickin' chicken wings. Chicken, but covered in batter. Greasy, but satisfying."

Tristian's phone buzzed. He shoved it in his pocket as the screen lit up and held out his hand to the guy in front. "I'm Tristian."

[Richard Locksley]

Richard's eyebrow quirked in response to the way the other boy almost seemed to be staring at him, it only lasted a moment, but a moment longer than he really expected it to. It wasn't that Richard wasn't used to the occasional person staring at him, it was just that it usually happened with girls (of course), so this was a bit weird.
"...Finger lickin' chicken wings..." he repeated incredulously, shaking his head "Such fine dining options we have here in Trenale, I am so very glad my parents decided it was vital that I come here." he added, deadpan, expression unimpressed. Nobody had really been happy with that decision, he didn't know why his parents thought sibling bonding was so important, but he supposed there wasn't really an upside, come here to this weird place and do his best to avoid Gwyn and Eddie, or stay home with his overbearing parents wanting to know every detail of his life.

"Richard," his voice warmed a little as he took the offered hand "pleasure to meet you."

[Tristian]

Tristian gave him the perfectly crafted ‘I am amused’ laugh when he made the comment about ‘fine dining’ in Trenale, and then shook the other guys hand, “and you.”

There was something delightfully haughty about this Richard. Tristian appreciated haughtiness, he liked to think he was an expert in it and so appreciated others who could carry it off as well as he did. Of course when haughtiness was on the face of someone that good looking it was even harder not to appreciate it.

He seriously had a problem.

He blamed his mother.

He could feel his phone buzzing again in his pocket and ignoring it continued the conversation, “If you are looking for fine dining in Trenale you might want to try the ‘Silver Spoon’ a few doors down. However, I promise you their ‘artisan’ plates will not be nearly as fulfilling as those chicken wings, trust me.”

Tristian then gave him his most wining ‘trust me’ smile.

[Richard Locksley]

Richard did not know what the term artisan meant in this particular context, but he wasn't about to ask. If the so-called fine dining wasn't very filling then it couldn't be very fine - of course, he came from a world where 'fine dining' generally equated to a feast, and anything less than an entire roasted boar couldn't be called fine at all.
Apparently it would have to be these chicken wings. What was wrong with the rest of the chicken? Why did it have to be the wings? Maybe they used up the rest of it in the nuggets...

"Fine," he conceded "I'll take your advice, this time, but I will be very put out if you are incorrect." he was mostly joking. Probably. He would actually be annoyed, and probably wouldn't take any of Tristian's advice again, but he wouldn't be that bad. He certainly wouldn't go to the extremes of his adoptive father when he was disappointed. Decision made, he stepped up the counter.

"I'll take the..." he sighed "finger lickin' chicken wings."

"Would you like fries with that?"

Richard turned slightly to glance at Tristian "How do you rate the fries?"

[Tristian]

Tristian just smiled when Richard said he would be put out. There was something about the idea of Richard being cross with him that really appealed to him for some reason and he could not quite think why. It was probably the pout, Tristian could imagine Richard having a very good pout, or perhaps it would just be a frown. The face was so frowny already, could it even go any frownier. He secretly hoped that one day he would find out.

As Richard turned around to make his order Tristian took out his buzzing phone again and quickly looked at the messages there. He smiled a little, however quickly shoved the damn thing back in his pocket when Richard looked around to ask about the fries.

“Oh definitely. Then you can get the meal deal which gives you a drink as well, I would suggest go for a coke,” said Tristian displaying all his fast food knowledge for Richard to marvel at, “and gravy, you should ask for some gravy.”

[Richard Locksley]

When Richard looked round, Tristian appeared to be looking at that little buzzing box again. He dimly recalled being told about them, they were... mobile phones? That was it, yes, pocket communication devices. Whoever Tristian was talking to, they seemed to be making him smile. Richard would have said he was sorry for interrupting the conversation, but he just wasn't that kind of person, whoever Tristian was talking to, they automatically weren't as important as him on account of they were not him.

"Alright then," he turned back to the counter "Yes, give me fries, and apparently a coke and gravy." his tone was imperious, used to giving orders, or rather, used to assuming other people would bow to his whim. Once his order was given, he turned his attention away from the server, expecting them to just go and get on with their job.

"Are you eating here too? We should sit together, it will be far more interesting than sitting alone." Richard didn't expect him to say no, in fact he rather expected Tristian to feel honoured at the opportunity. Richard wasn't the type who, like Tristian, built up a reputation, he was the type who expected to already have one.

[Tristian]

Oh he was awfully demanding. Tristian liked it.

“Of course, I wouldn’t sit anywhere else,” said Tristian with a grin before stepping up to the counter to rhyme off his own order, “I would like the three piece meal, fries and a sprite please, with barbeque sauce and can you make sure you pick out one of the ones with the extra crispy bits please.”

The bored girl at the cash register gave him the dead stare of every fast food worker and said, “uh huh.”

He handed over the money, and taking his tray went over to sit opposite Richard.

“So…where you from?” said Tristian, tucking in to the fries.

[Richard Locksley]

Richard smirked a little at how exacting Tristian was about his order, he appreciated someone who knew what they wanted and asked for it, he had no time for people who edged around and tried to be polite or accomodating, life would be much simpler if people just took what they wanted.

When Tristian joined him at the table he'd already taken a bite of his chicken, and he had to admit that it was certainly more edible than he'd expected, and there was quite a lot of food on his tray. He conceded that Tristian had suggested well.

"Nottingham. If that means anything to you, I know people here are from all sorts of ridiculous places," he shrugged "You?"

[Tristian]

“Nottingham?” said Tristian and smiled, “Yes I’ve heard of it.”

He had even been there to visit his mother and father’s friends, Marian and Robin, not to mention seeing Eddie and Gwyn. The trips were usually memorable ones on account of Eddie and Gaston Jr would inevitably get lost (how Eddie got lost in the woods he called home was anyone’s guess) and Meredith and Gwyn would have to go in search of the two of them. Meanwhile Tristian sat back and relaxed with his Mother, Marian and Merlin, drinking Tea and watching his father and Robin try to outdo each other with target practice.

“My parents have friends that live out that way,” he added, “very…green.”

He started picking at the chicken pieces, deliberately tearing off the skin first and leaving it to the side to finish off later. “I’m from Camelot, I’m sure that means something to you,” he said with a smile and a wink.

[Richard Locksley]

Camelot... which meant he was probably somehow related to King Arthur, or one of his knights perhaps... with the amount of presence and command Tristian had, it was probably the former. It would also explain why he'd heard of Nottingham, the friends he was probably referring to were likely Richard's parents, since he was fairly certain he'd heard his father talking about meeting King Arthur when he was going on about how great Tintagel was and how much Richard would love it there. He hadn't really been listening.

"Of course I've heard of Camelot," he nodded with a faint smile. "These friends, Robin and Marian I take it? They're my parents." it still seemed a little weird to call them that, it hadn't even been that long since they reconnected before they decided it would be a good idea to send him here with Gwyn and Eddie, and for so much of his life they'd just been his enemies.

[Tristian]

Of course they were, you don’t get genes like that without two stunningly good looking parents. As he looked at Richard now he could see certain resemblances from the two older Locksleys and indeed the younger ones. Yes this was definitely a ‘hood’. He still did not know much about how Richard came to be parted from his family, or even the reason for his return to it. What he did know was that his return had upset his younger siblings terribly. Gwyn was furious and Eddie was panicky. He knew all this through Gaston Jr who seemed to be spend more time complaining about this Richard than Eddie did…even though he had never met him.

It was funny, when it came to himself Gaston Jr would let others walk all over him, but the minute someone tried to pick on Eddie, regardless of how much more expertly skilled they were, Gaston Jr would stick up for his friend. Yet again he wondered if there was perhaps something more to that relationship than people were letting on.

“Your parents?” said Tristian with a smile, “ah, I see. You must be the prodigal son I have heard so much about. Well, welcome back, what made you decide to return?”

[Richard Locksley]

"Decide?" Richard snorted, taking a moment to eat a few more bites of his meal as he decided on the best way to explain the situation "I presume you don't know a lot of the details of what happened, then?"
It was interesting to know Tristian had heard about him, and he couldn't help but wonder exactly what it was he'd heard - no doubt probably bad things, it was more likely Tristian had heard from his siblings rather than his parents, and he could only imagine their descriptions not being particularly pleasant. Still, Tristian was still talking to him, so that was a start.

"I was stolen as a baby by my father..'s enemy, Vaisey," the correction flowed easily enough, but there had been a slight hesitation. He didn't always slip up, despite believing it to be the case for so much of his life, it was easy to dismiss Vaisey as a parental figure, he'd always been more drill sergeant than father. "My parents didn't know where I was and I didn't know they existed... well, not strictly true, I knew Robin Hood was who I was training to take down. I returned because they finally managed to find me."

[Tristian]

Tristian did not know any of the details, much to his disappointment and not for a lack of trying. After all, whenever they went to Nottingham he spent more time sitting with Marian and his mother rather than with the other kids, they always had the better conversation, and he really liked Marian, he could see why she was one of his mother’s closest friends. When he heard about Richard’s return he had broached the subject with his mother who had said, “It’s a shame for that poor boy, but he’s back where he belongs now, Marian will take good care of him…I only hope that Robin…well…Marian is there.”

So he was eager to hear the full story straight from the horses mouth. And he was not disappointed.

“That’s…rough,” said Tristian.

There was no pity in his tone, perhaps a touch of sympathy, but not much else. He did not think the guy in front of him would respond well to pity.

“So…how’s it been since you got back?” he asked.

[Richard Locksley]

Richard shrugged. He was sort of glad that was all Tristian had to say about it, there wasn't really much else that you could say about it, but some people tried to shove trite platitudes down his throat, or act like they understood what he'd gone through. Nobody really understood it, and he didn't want them pretending they did. There was also no pity and Richard definitely appreciated that.

"Agonising, to be honest," he said simply "My mother and father barely seem to know how to handle it and Eddie and Gwyn have been... well, more than a little resentful, it's clear they would be more appreciative of my return if I wasn't so much better than they are," the boastfulness didn't look like a sign of any kind of lack of self-worth, the tone was not one of overcompensation, it was matter-of-fact, as if he just accepted his superiority as the truth.