ETHEREAL ·

“Well, it’s been a long night. I’m a busy man, cassia.” Sean admitted that there were times he didn’t look so polished. The collar of his dress shirt was loosened, and his blazer was probably back in his office at skyfall bar. “Money doesn’t just pour in. It requires talent and sweat.” These days, he rarely got any sleep. The dark circles under his eyes were becoming more prominent. He was always working. Sean ran his hands through his hair and ordered a glass of whiskey. He took a sip from his glass and savored the alcohol as it traveled down his throat. He could have drank a bottle of whiskey in his office, but he just needed to leave and get some fresh air.

“What are you doing here anyway? You’d be safer at my place.” Of course, he wasn’t talking about his actual house, but the bar he owned. He swirled the glass in his hands. “Kind of a shame. I expected to chat with some lovely ladies, but I ran into my niece.” A smirk appeared on his face to indicate that he was just teasing her.

Setting her glass aside, Cassia's head turned, emeralds finding the familiar face of her uncle. With an amused smile curling at the edges of her mouth, a small laugh tumbled past them. “Course you are,” she quipped. “Oh, talent, is it? Is it a hidden one?” Her tone was heavily tinged with jest as she attempted to playfully mock him. A childish grin was splitting her lips, eyes alight with mirth. It wasn't rare to find the brunette in a jovial mood. It was pretty much her default demeanour, even while hungover. Cassia had always been an optimistic kind of person, even in the face of adversity. It was the one quality that had gotten the girl through an array of tough times. It was a characteristic she prided herself in possessing, especially while wrapped up in the world she and her family lived in.

“I could ask you the same thing. I thought you were always cooped up in that office of yours,” she remarked. Cassia usually frequented Skyfall. Mostly due to the fact it was safe there. It also helped that her uncle was the owner. She knew she was always welcome at Skyfall, that she would be safest inside its walls but sometimes the brunette desired an escape in a quaint bar elsewhere. With a small shrug of her shoulders, Cassia retrieved her previously discarded tumbler, peering into the liquid occupying it. “I know,” she agreed. “Just felt like a change of scenery, I guess.” Lifting her gaze, her attention was back to her uncle, a grin threatening to spill onto her mouth. “Don't let me stop you. Work away, dear uncle. Pretend I'm not even here, and I'll pretend I don't notice the blonde who's checking you out.” Stifling a laugh, Cassia subtly motioned with her eyes toward the end of the bar.

Arielle held a cold bottle of Bud to her cheek only partially covering the developing welt on the side of her face. It was no surprise she had already been involved in a scuffle. It was part of her life and her job when push comes to shove. The whiskey glass in front of her partly emptied while she ignored the cuts and bruises that bloomed across her right knuckles. The victim of her ire was no where to be seen, and for good measure.

The voice is familiar and draws her attention to the woman. “Just a little scratch. I’m not a fucking pussy.”  A bit defensive maybe, but the facial injury wasn’t something she was going to start pouting over. Dark eyes loom over to what Cassia’s drink choice is judgmentally. “What’s got you feeling rough though? Is it because you need a stronger drink?”

Emeralds side-eyed the dark-haired female, a defined brow lifting at the other's tone. “Isn't somebody a little tetchy,” Cassia quipped, the subtle Irish twang rolling off her tongue. Setting her glass aside, the brunette swivelled in the stool, turning her body toward the other female. Bringing an elbow to rest against the bar top, glossed lips were pursing in contemplation while green eyes glided over the fellow brunette's countenance. “With an attitude like that it's no surprise somebody decided to deck you,” she remarked, a nonchalant timbre evident in her words.

Allowing a laugh to fall from her lips, Cassia's petite frame shook with mirth. “You really are a piece of work, aren't you?” An amused expression had claimed her features, peering across at the other female before firing a brief glance toward the glass of whiskey. “Fine,” she suddenly began, a hint of determination lacing her statement. Lifting a slender limb, a delicate wave of Cassia's hand had the bartender approaching the pair. Ordering two whiskeys, the brunette shot a look toward her company. “Maybe now you'll be less of a sour puss,” she stated, sliding one of the glasses toward the other.

Settled into a seat River was just ending a day of attempting to reign in some more information on top of her usual work duties. Sometimes she felt like she may in fact pile too much on, but regardless she rather enjoyed the craze. “Do I?” she asked, not looking up at first and then finding the face to the voice. Familiar in the sense she’d spotted the brunette out and about prior. Probably when River had trespassed into territory not her own. “Guess I’m a little tired today. Nothing I can’t get through.”

Rotating in her seat, Cassia's green hues were on the female. With a nod of her head, dark tresses were bouncing against the narrow plane of her shoulders. “Yup,” she replied, glossed lips popping on the last syllable. “Though if it's any consolation, you should have seen me last night.” With a slight grimace, Cassia visibly shook herself before taking another sip from her glass. Discarding the now empty tumbler, the brunette peered at the other, defined brows furrowing ever so subtly as she attempted to place the woman's face. After a moment, Cassia motioned toward the bartender before turning her attention to the other. “What are you having?”

the first day back at work after a couple of days off was always the hardest – it was difficult to get back into the swing of things, the chaotic nature of the emergency department never letting him pause to breathe. he’d made it through the day, though – and here he was, sitting at the bar, whiskey in his hand. being that elliott’s significant other was… not particularly welcome on o’shea territory, he tended to frequent places in a neutral area so that he could be joined if the opportunity arose. it was better than having to make up some excuse about why they couldn’t meet up wherever he was at some o’shea bar.

elliott was grateful for the fact that he was alone this time as cassia slid onto the stool next to him. he glanced over at her, chuckled, and then sipped his glass of whiskey. “i’ll take that as a compliment,” he replied. “thank you.”

The sound of his chuckle brought an amused smile to Cassia's mouth. Turning, her emeralds found Elliott and she was almost thankful she'd bumped into somebody she actually knew somewhere other than Skyfall. “Don't mention it, Ell,” she responded, taking another sip of her gin and tonic. Placing the glass on top of the bar with an audible clink, the brunette swivelled in her stool to face the medic. “Don't worry though, you're still rocking the rough look,” she quipped, a grin splitting her cherry lips.

“What brings you here anyway? You don't have any witless goons to stitch up tonight?” Cassia inquired, genuinely curious. Being able to help people the way Elliott could was something the brunette admired. Obtaining the knowledge and expertise to patch up injured individuals was a skill Cassia could only dream of. More times than enough she'd found herself stumbling into Elliott's office in desperate need of medical attention. It was part and parcel of her job description and over time, she'd grown accustomed to her body being littered with cuts and bruises. She figured it was a small price to pay after all the harm she's inflicted upon others in the past.

Richie parks his car in the middle of an empty lot, chest heaving as he tries to calm himself. The nightmares come without warning and Richie deals with it the only way he knows how: by letting it course through him until he can stuff it back in the little space in his mind reserved for denial. It’s stupid, being out late at night, even if the territory is marked neutral, but he drives without really thinking about it and where he ends up, he doesn’t really have a care about. Richie steps out of his vehicle,  hopping up on his hood, the feel of the metal on his back cooling his nerves. He doesn’t know how long he stays there, staring at the stars, but the young O’Shea finds his heartbeat steadying, a comfortable thump against his chest.

It takes a moment to register the sound of footsteps approaching, but he whirls to face the figure, adrenaline shooting through his body. His hand reaches for the holster he no longer has, body still familiar with what his brother taught him. “What do you want,” he regards the figure, arms crossed to keep his hands from shaking, the urge to defend himself thrumming through his veins. “Can’t a man spend some quality time with his car without anyone bothering him?”

It was god knows what time but if the blackness outside was anything to go by, Cassia figured it was a little later than she'd thought. The brunette had been particularly buzzed right before she exited the club, but the instant the cool night air washed over her she sobered up pretty quickly. She knew what her father would say if he could see her right now: it's too dark to be walking alone. The thought brought a fond expression across Cassia's face. It was true but fortunately for her, she was more than capable of handling herself. As booted feet carried her small stature along the pavement, she couldn't help but notice the lone vehicle in the middle of the lot. With her footsteps halting, her emeralds were narrowing in on the car. Usually, sheer curiosity would have the girl approach the isolated auto. Yet this time, it was her recognition of the model that had her strolling towards it.

Reaching a standstill alongside the car, a soft laugh was tumbling from Cassia's lips. Lifting her hands to position them in front of her body in a show of surrender. “Relax, dearest cousin. I come in peace,” she quipped, glossed lips lifting in a mild smirk. Lowering her hands, the brunette's narrow shoulders dropped as she relaxed. “Course he can,” she stated, resting her side against the cool metal of the body of the vehicle. “Although, I gotta say, not many people would share the same sentiment.” Cassia's green gaze was momentarily studying Richie's face before her brows knitted together. “What's up? And don't tell me nothing because I know it's not nothing.”

Normally, Cassia would stick to where she knew she belonged: O'Shea territory. There was less chance of trouble that way. However, tonight she had ventured into neutral turf. The brunette had never been one to avoid a little danger but tonight she decided to keep a low profile, making the conscious decision not to draw attention to herself. She was nursing a hangover from the previous night and figured there was only one cure to remedy this. Hair of the dog, isn't that the expression? The Pint seemed like the perfect place to situate herself for the night. Not too crowded, but not too dull either. The ideal balance for the brunette.

Her lithe form was sliding onto a vacant stool at the bar, dark tresses cascading across her shoulders; acting as a partial barrier, shielding her features. Waving a delicate hand toward the bartender, she ordered a gin and tonic, steering clear of her chosen poison from the night before. Slender digits were wrapping around the glass that had been placed in front of her, emeralds casting a glance toward the patron next to her. “You look as rough as I feel,” she quipped, taking a long sip of her drink, welcoming the sharp taste that lined the back of her throat.

With his usual comfort zone in the art institute still currently out of action, Harry had been trying to find somewhere else to work on his novel where he would be both safe and inspired. If it was the summer months, he would have probably found a bench in the University grounds, or perhaps spent some time with the animals in the zoo. But, it was winter and he was in the windy city, staying outside for much longer than it takes to walk to wherever you’re going was highly unadvisable. After walking around the city for an hour, Harry set on going into Java Addicts. He gave them a great write-up in the paper’s annual food and drink top 100 not to long ago, so he knew he’d be more than welcome to sit and write in there. Plus, it was O’Shea terratory so with any luck he’d be able to work without any hassle from any Fausts. 

Harry had been sat in his booth for the best part of two hours, and for the last thirty of those he felt as if he was being somewhat watched. Then he felt the presence of someone beside him, just out of his peripheral vision. Without looking up, Harry coughed slightly. “Can I, er– help you?” 

During her years of university, Java Addicts had become a haven for Cassia. She'd spent a vast majority of her time holed up in a corner booth, nose buried in books, scribbling notes furiously while consuming far too many cups of coffee. Though her days of being a student were over, a part of the brunette always felt at home inside the cafe. It was still the place she used to escape, even if for a little while. Thus, it was no surprise to find the female stepping into the familiar building, a sense of comfort already washing over her form.

Having ordered her usual latte, Cassia had taken up residence at one of the tables near the large windows. She had to admit, people watching was one of those past times she regularly engaged in. Always finding herself wondering what kind of deep dark secrets the strangers who would pass by might be concealing. Being lost in her own thoughts, it had taken the girl a solid thirty minutes or so to finally realise a familiar dark-haired male sat a few feet from her. Never one to shy away from approaching others, the brunette's small stature was carrying her toward the booth. “I doubt it,” she remarked, mug clasped between her hands. “Working on a masterpiece, are we?”