we might as well be strangers

Harvey Butler · 09-30-2012, 08:57 PM

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((551)) That's fine, I understand that! xD Sorry, got wordy. ;u;

Harvey

Harvey was typically formal himself, even if he was comfortable with the other; it was simply in his nature to be a gentleman... Now.

He wasn't always so polite. In his gang, the red merle male saw himself as powerful, and felt that most were below him. Because of his power in the community and the reputation of fear he'd managed to conceive, Harvey spoke lowly to those he didn't care for (which was nearly anybody not closely related to him, or a fellow member that he could stand), calling them hateful names and shoving his way as he held his cocky air about him.

It was embarrassing thinking of it now. He was the total opposite of what he was now, and it was only worse after he was attacked...

Those who thought he couldn't get worse were in for a treat. The Brit was spiteful, hating the world and having on and off fits of anger. He'd been trying to work on his impoliteness, especially after realizing how weak he really was, compared to what he initially believed, but with a sudden trigger, he'd be thrown into a fit of rage, a violent man filled with blind hatred and fury.

Thinking about his brutish past was enough to make him swallow what felt like his heart that was pounding in his throat. Bi-coloured eyes fought hard to keep from forming tears, as he was so ashamed of what he used to be. But, being the optimist he tried to hard to be, Harvey instead tried to think of the here and now. He'd managed to meet new people, some of which he could call friends, and so far, his reputation was nothing to be disappointed by.

Aoves accented voice brought his attention back to the present, which he greatly appreciated. His smile returned, and he listened to her while he enjoyed the heat of the fire on the chilly night.

Her enunciation of the h made him chuckle, for he often dropped that letter, pronouncing his own name more like 'Arvay Butluh than how most would. I figgah tha's fair enough, then. He smiled. Figure was another example of the type of word his cockney lilt enabled him from saying like others. Still, he felt he could get his thoughts through, as he wasn't too totally misunderstood.

No worries, dove, tha's a pre'y common question for me. The ex-gangster said, speaking truthfully. Thanks to his distinct accent, his hometown was questioned frequently, though he never grew tired of answering it, for he felt that somehow, he'd interested his acquaintances to some degree if they were curious enough to ask anything about him. I'm not from 'ere, tha's right. I come from London, the East End. Would explain me accent, wouldn't it? Harvey grinned still, semi-turned toward her so that he could not only feel the fire's warmth, but so he could hold a conversation with the woman while facing her to some (even if small) extent.

An, if you don't mind me prying'... I could ask you the same fin'... The cockney canine nearly mumbled. He wasn't bored, or particularly tired... He was just rather comfortable. Something about the setting and situation calmed him after his painful relapse of horrid memories, and Harv wasn't going to complain about that.

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