londoncallingrpg

It had been a while since anyone had randomly recognized Alcuin. He credited this in part to the fading memory of the city (despite the tabloid flair-up around the holidays), and in part to his decision to cut his hair. He'd also taken to wearing glasses, which were a prescription weak enough that he'd typically gone without them in the past, but he was spending considerably more time in front of a computer these days than he had when Anafiel was alive. Maybe it was a little Clark Kent of him, but he definitely wasn't noticed as much this way. And it wasn't even just being recognized, but he also got less attention. Which caused... more conflicting emotions than he would have anticipated.

In any case, this all resulted in his looking like a rather normal young man sitting at an outdoor cafe drinking coffee and reading a copy of Jon Ronson's new book So You've Been Publicly Shamed. It struck a bit of a chord with him, to be honest. He was glad he hadn't spent much time on social media last year. He really didn't want to know what Twitter had thought of him.

The cafe was busier than usual, perhaps due to the weather being nice, and it was a Friday just late enough for people to skip out of work early. He reached over and took his bag out of the other seat at his table in case anyone wanted to join him, as there were no more empty seats around.