YOU ARE THE REASON
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@vincentmarseilles
Add a dash of glitter and you’ll practically be shitting candy canes. Honestly this is the most effort I’ve ever put into Christmas.
I like your style. Of course, I probably won't do any of that since it would require effort to be put into Christmas spirit. It was a nice thought though. What's your name kid?
I hung one of those tree-shaped pine air fresheners from my ceiling fan. I dunno, is that considered festive?
Yes, most definitely. That seems like an excellent idea to me. Maybe I should follow your example. I could even put one of those glow in the dark stars on it to make it extra Christmas-y.
“You mean to tell me that you haven’t put one up already? While typical of you, I believe you might be too late. It’s going to be hell trying to find a tree out there; unless you go with an artificial one — but they lack the smell, and authenticity.”
Nope, haven't even thought about it until now. Why would I put up a tree if I don't actually celebrate Christmas? We have one at Jinx, that seems good enough for me.
Seems like the holidays are taking over around here. I wonder if I should have put up a Christmas tree or something...
Bad Ideas Abound || Vincent & Adelaide
Five o'clock rolled around early, and Vincent was happy to hand over responsibilities to his co-owner for the rest of the night. It was nice taking turns, that way he didn't become bored with his schedule. Heading out of Jinx and towards his car, he spotted paint smeared across the window. Someone had gotten over zealous and decided that it would be a good idea to antagonize one of the witch bar owners. Anger swelled within him, lighting a fire that had laid dormant for quite some time now. Unlocking the car, he opened the door roughly before tossing his bag inside and slamming it after he was fully in the seat. Possibilities for how he could respond raced through his brain, most of them very bad ideas. It wouldn't do to feed the poor image that this town had of witches, and he didn't want to leave this place just yet. Before he knew it he was driving. His conscious mind had yet to form a location, and all he knew was that he had to go somewhere. The speed limit was as far from his mind as it could be, and he flew through the streets at a reckless pace. When finally he came to a halt he found himself at a market. This particular place was well catered to witches for it had special herbs not found in many other places. It also sold live chickens and hogs and other such livestock, which his conscious mind now realized was his reason for being here. If he couldn't retaliate without endangering himself, he could at least kill something to mans him feel better. Making his way towards that section of the market he fell prey to tunnel vision and didn't see the woman in front of him until he had already plowed into her. Knowing he had a reputation to uphold, he put on an apologetic smile and turned his attention on the woman. "My apologies. I'm afraid I wasn't paying attention."
She rose her glass in return, gesturing it towards him as if they were toasting. She savored what was left in her glass, not wanting to get drunk too quickly. It wouldn’t be the best impression to have of her, especially since a lot of people recognized her face, or should by now. She sat the glass down on the bar in front of her, fixing her hair so it was out of her face. “Was your Monday night as busy as mine? Hopefully it wasn’t too horrible either way.” She extended her hand towards him, gripping it gently as she shook it. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Vincent. My name is Lola.”
Vincent shook her hand with a firm grip before letting it drop. There was something familiar about her face, but he couldn't place his finger on it. When she spoke her name the pieces clicked in his brain and he had to fight back the urge to throw her over his shoulder and escort her out himself. So this was the little reporter who liked to speak out against all witches. Granted, he wasn't the best among them, but it was never right to generalize an entire group based on a few of its members. Forcing a smile, he decided to find out what he could about this seemingly infuriating creature. "Lola, huh? The reporter I take it? It's not too common of a name. What brings a girl like you to a place like this?"
It was a typical ending to a Monday night, one where Lola decided to head over to a bar and get a couple drinks before the night was completely over. She didn’t usually go out to drink, not when she knew that she had made herself a target to the witches of the world, but tonight she was feeling bold, not worrying about whoever she would run into. She probably would regret her decision later on if something were to happen, but not right now. Right now, she was thirsty, and she was in the mood for some mind-altering substances that would make her forget the world, even just for a moment.
She entered the room, making her way towards the bar to an empty section. She noticed a man leaning against it a little ways from her, briefly studying him before she ordered her drink. Handsome enough, and yet she wasn’t sure whether she had seen him before. She turned her attention back to the bartender once her drink was ready, giving her card to start a tab. She took a small sip, letting the liquid caress her throat as she sighed. She looked up at the voice, giving a smile before taking another sip. “I’m enjoying it very much. And you?”
Raising his glass to the petite woman next to him, he took a sip of the amber liquid and enjoyed its soft burn as it traveled down his throat. Anywhere else he'd have ordered something cheap just to get by, but at his own bar it was nothing but the best. Placing the glass down on the bar he let his eyes wander over her briefly before answering. He didn't know the woman, but that was surely about to change. "Of course. Nothing like a drink to end a Monday night." Holding out a calloused hand, he decided that introductions were in order. "I'm Vincent, and who might I have the pleasure of drinking with this evening?"
Vincent leaned against the bar, a glass of brandy in his hand and a smirk upon his lips. There was a decent crowd for a Monday night, but not so many that he had to intervene and help out. He enjoyed these nights where he could sit back and watch his employees work. Glancing over at tonight's bar tender he motioned for a refill and was pleased with her quick response. Looking to his right, he smiled in a deceivingly friendly manner at the person standing there. "Enjoying your drink?"
