location: o’riley tavern, st. patrick’s day.
who: @blackbourned
when: before the plot drop transitioning to after the plot drop.
——HE SHOULD NOT have been surprised by her presence, in truth. time spent floating in and out of new york over his many seasoned years had information pouring out of the city like fresh blood from a grievous wound. her name was attached to one of the private investigation businesses ( what little rats those people were ) and she still kept her practiced magic out of circles. he glimpsed her from afar often, but never found it in him to approach. THERE HAD NEVER BEEN A REASON TO. explanations were sloppy, at the end of the day he had no desire to be reminded of his heart as it beat so obviously against his ribs. but now he didn’t have a reason to disappear. there was no reason to avoid her.
clued into her drink from the bartender ( simply by asking, really ) he collected another round for himself and the witch and weaved like a cat through their owner’s legs to her. his expression was the practiced blank it always was when he stopped, though he admired he as he came to approach: flawless fair skin, soft dark hair, wide brown eyes, gentle features, the admirable slope of her neck … and offered her liquor of choice out to her like a peace treaty. the only war begun between them was the one he’d forged twenty years prior, silently.
“ for you, ms. blackbourne. you look lovely. ”
his figure caught her eye a few steps before his arrival, a silhouette shrouded in shadow... no different that what memory served. no, he was no ominous figure of her past nor someone she’d quickly remove herself from her seat to avoid. quite the opposite as she adjusted her position to see him more clearly standing tall in front of her. her features, too, began at a moment of a blank and watchful gaze--- void of emotion if only to take in her surroundings, to take him in his purest visage and less of a misplacement of emotion. blank and neutral, until the moment her name graced past his lips when the smile began to grow on her face, widened more by the compliment.
“ thank you. will you join me, mr. slade, ” she asked, accepting the glass and placing it beside her. “ i’ve been seeking good company all evening but i have faith yours will more promising. ” not once did her gaze leave his, peering back and into the memories that seemed to flicker around him in her mind’s eye. happy memories with a bitter aftertaste, made solid by his voice. no doubt his company would prove intriguing, warmed and over-brewed like a fine tea, although he was more akin to the drink at her side. they could sit in silence and the night would still be satisfying, although unlikely. but first...
“ please, join me and tell me all the answers to the questions you think i have. ”
