[center][h1]Brown L. Cheeseman[/h1][/center]
Brown blinked thrice. Then a fourth time, just to be safe. He didn't know a great many people with cars his age. He didn't know a great many people his age, but irrelevant. He certainly didn't know anyone remotely his age with such a nice car. He was far less shocked by Ambrose changing his shirt than he was when Ambrose pulled it out of his car. He feared his expressions would be visible on his face, and interpreted as rude. So he quickly turned his shocked face back to a polite smile. He began to respond, choosing to ignore the possibly passive jab and instead focusing on the other parts with a smile on his face, "Yeah I'm somewhat new around here, my family hasn't been here for generations, but I've been here most of my life." He gave a short chuckle, "My mum is one of the teachers round here. Miss Cheeseman. But no, I don't think I've heard of a Miss Hightower. Does she have a different name?"

Brown closed his eyes for a moment and tilted his head, givning a sincere smile as he began to wander up the street, hoping Ambrose would follow suit. Brown was warming to him, though he seemed slightly airheaded and privileged he liked the strange sincerity that could be attributed to his [i]interesting[/i] form of 'intelligence'. He blinked thrice geometrically as he thought he spied a group of familiar faces up the road and slowly trundled that way, observing the fabulous decorations and stalls that accompanied the festival.

[right][@psych0pomp][/right]