@prismaseer
JULIAN WAS HALFWAY INTO THE SHOP before he noticed the magician sitting at the table, and he froze in his tracks.
Oh. Oh, god. Yes, talking to Asra had been the entire point of this little excursion-- but frankly, he was a little drunk. And actually seeing Asra....
At the bar he’d envisioned a scene so dramatic and devastating it could be on the great stage, accompanied by props of skulls and crooning birds who squaked omens of fate and retribution -- but here, in the moment, it’s as if time itself has screeched to a halt. Julian straightens up, shouldering his cape behind him clumsily while his traitorous heart pound-pound-pounds in his ears. “ Uh-- Asra. Yes. Hello, I was- expecting you to be here. “ The fugitive doctor supplies. The shop smells like him. The very air he breathes, tinged with Asra. If he were a plague Julian would be doomed. He needs a mask bursting with herb to weed out this sickly-sweet. “ I, uhm... “ Hours of mental rehersal, gone. And all it had taken was one glance of the witch.
