@spiridium cont.
The man before him was a jumble of seemingly mismatched oddities- unkempt hair, smudged makeup, accessories, articles of clothing which made no cohesive sense to Ichabod, the exhausted yet challenging demeanor less than inviting... yet it all seemed to somehow suit the other; as though he were merely a manifestation of all that made no proper sense in this mortal realm. The former constable sighed through his nose at his own thoughts, forcing himself to focus on the present situation.
Ichabod’s lips pursed, a frustrated look in his dark eyes. The teasing tone from the other echoed a bit too closely to the condescension he was accustomed to from his former colleagues at the night watch in New York, as well as many others throughout his lifetime. Perhaps it was not his intent, but it made Crane tense regardless. The way the other circled him like a predatory bird certainly didn’t help the tension, either.
“L-Lover boy?” Ichabod balked a bit, color rising to his pale cheeks a moment. “I-” he stopped himself, realizing he was being baited, pulling back and closing his eyes, shaking his head. He took a breath, before speaking once more. “I assure you the matter at hand is quite pressing...” He looked the other over a moment, everything in him not wanting to delay a moment longer.
He needed to get home. Masbeth was older now, but the thought of leaving him to fight the creature alone settled poorly on his stomach. Pushing this man will do no good, he finally gave in, frowning. “... very well. Is there somewhere you wish to dine? I...” he looked around, the same stressed knit to his brow returning. “This is not the New York I am familiar with.”
