Emmett had found himself taking a walk, like many others before him had, but for less gloomy reasons than so many people—isn't that so very uncharacteristic of him? How odd! Though he had been living in the city for a many years now, the whole 'getting used to it' thing never truly ends. That, coupled with the fact that he is in a relatively good and energetic mood today must have made Emmett seem either like a tourist or a madman, not that there's much difference between the two.

He walked slowly, savouring the ground beneath his feet as if it were made of gold and diamonds, and glanced around, watching everything with a more perceptive gaze than he let on. For a man like him who had always been so focused on detailed, a simple walk had rarely ever proven itself simple—he had always somehow managed to find something to pay attention to or someone to eavesdrop on or something to remember and then nothing is simple and everything is complicated. Which was exactly how Emmett liked it. As he walked, looking around, Emmett's glance fell on a stranger—not even in an 'oh I am so attracted to you please have sex with me' way, but rather in the more curious and analyzing way that he is more fond of.

Oh indeed, Steve probably looked interesting. Or at least suspicious. Indeed, he was standing at the entrance of a yard, looking around nervously, as if he was engaged in something criminal. Well, he wasn't. Yet. But he looked nervous. And uncomfortable.

That fish and chips had gone straight through him.

When he thought nobody was watching, he pulled his trousers down and squatted. He closed his eyes and his face turned red.

Emmett sighed near-inaudibly and stared even further at him, crossing his arms idly. Maybe if he stared hard enough the guy would fuck off again to wherever he came from. The inappropriateness of the situation was not lost to him, but frankly, he was a bit too used to shit like this happening to even care at this point. The whole thing only made him slightly uncomfortable. 

If only he had his camera equipment with him.

Steve managed his business, pulled up his trousers and stood up. Then he stepped back out into the street. Now time for a drink.
"Hello!" he called out to a young man nearby. "Excuse me, sir. Could you spare some change?"

Mehmet, too, was feeling the hour and on his way to a drink, red-eyed and watery from the basic task of being outdoors.

He sneezed, sniffled, and immediately regretted it. What was that – aggh. Just in time to see some bum’s, well, bum, and a glistening deposit not far from him.

Hearing the call for change, Mehmet immediately reversed course from whence he’d came.

Emmett simply observed from (not that) afar, watching with disguised interest how another man who had arrived onto the scene immediately made his way away from it as soon as another called out, asking for change. Isn't that just lovely.

Figuring that this would be a beautiful time to insert himself into the scene, Emmett stepped forward—both literally and metaphorically—with an exceedingly chivalrious "why yes, sir, I could." That being said, however, he didn't spare any change. He could, but he won't.

"Oh bless ye, sir!" Steve walked over, a rather unpleasant smell probably reaching Emmett's nostrils by now. He held up his hand. "'S me ship, I can't find it anymore. So I'm stuck here, ye see. With no food or housin'." Or drink. He did have a price on his head, on the other hand.

Emmett's toleration for whatever this is is being vastly underestimated right now. Raising an eyebrow in genuine, albeit badly disguised interest, he looked at the man. "Truly? How terrible," he said with faux-melancholy in his voice. Somehow, he got an iffy feeling from the guy, which meant that he probably was a criminal or something. Huh. "perhaps if you gave me more details about your ship I could help you back to it?" Or he could just feed his journalist friends this story.

"Well, it's not a pirate ship." he said. He scratched his neck. "It's wood and steel plated, steam powered, and the captain is from Korea, and there's a fat guy, and a tall, skinny guy, and a guy with a red beard and another guy with a red beard - oh no, he fell overboard - and a very clean-shaven guy, and me." That was definitely a good description. Right? Steve sometimes stepped on the wrong ship where there was a fellow with a red beard and some lad at work there.

"It's not a pirate ship? Thank god you informed of that, lest I think it is," it was definitely a pirate ship, then. The description was not very helpful, at all, but it was all that he had to work with. "and you can't find the ship? As in, cannot find it? At all?" Though he had been on ships a startling few times, Emmett figured that it wouldn't be that hard to find one. Unless it was a pirate ship and the guys just sailed away without him? Oh, how the plot thickens.