priceless

Now, why in the world was Ava Vidalis, the biggest lightweight in Corinth, at a bar? Simple, to push her drinking limits. It was almost embarrassing how after a drink or two, she was already gone. Either sprouting nonsense, stumbling all over the place, or clocked out somewhere. Unable to hang really and she despised that so much. So much that she entered a bar on her own and tried to fix this “problem”. Only, she’s been there for almost an hour now, still working on her first drinking, slowly taking sips from it, sometimes even wanting to say fuck it and just leave the place. Not until Giovanni sat beside her and declared that he was paying for the rest of her drinks for the night. Great. “Um, thank you,” Ava said with a gentle smile. “But you didn’t have to do that. It’s not like I’m celebrating anything, nor do I have a reason to celebrate.”

"I never have to do anything, it’s a choice,” he clarified with a teasing wink, inebriation swimming throughout the forefront of his mind. “And you obviously need me.” Without much effort, he nodded lightly to the glass captured between her palms and took another swig from his own drink. “How long has that drink been sitting on the counter?" Bright hues clocked the object before lifting to unfamiliar features. “Minimal condensation, I’d wager that it’s been longer than necessary. Don’t tell me you’re nursing it.”

How interesting. Of all the people to grab her attention this evening, Ophelia didn’t expect it to be… human. She’s had men buy her drinks before, sure, but there’s something different about this one, she doesn’t believe it’s just a ploy to make flirtatious conversation. And that intrigues her a little bit more. So she puts on a dazzling smile between the bartender and her new companion of the moment. “You heard the man,” she says, taking a sip from her glass before her attention turns to the human. “Well, that depends on what we’re celebrating, I would say. But quite the generous act, none the less.” 

The settling alarm that jarred in her chest at the offer was one of thanks, yet one that she wholeheartedly did not want to accept. Reckless as she could be, she’d never found any sense of comfort in accepting drinks - or the payment of such for any reason. “Thank you, honestly.. but, I’m sure that money would be better served on a drink of your own. Celebratory or not.” Waving off the bartender politely, blonde locks fell with the short gesture towards her newfound company, “Just make his a double.” If only her father and Xavier could witness that.. Lithe digits curled around the strawberry mojito she’d ordered a few moments prior. “What are you celebrating? Must be something big if you’re willing to throw it on a strangers drinks.”

“I’m too much a creature of habit to avoid anyone,” which was mostly true when in places that felt comfortable enough to not consistently be ready to run. That was a quality that Corinth had provided, even with the recent displays of unrest and painful occurrences, Silas had yet to think that he was time to move. On top of it all, he had worked diligently to get the brick and mortar operation functioning in the bay. “A candle—” eyebrows furrowing slightly. It wasn’t often that anyone actually sold him a candle on purpose. Typically they were found in old dresser drawers that hadn’t been cleaned up, locked wooden boxes that hadn’t been touched in years, and the incubus’s onyx irises locked onto Giovanni, “Got a little more detail than that? Maybe color, even what it could have been accompanied with?”

"Would you believe me if I said that’s precisely what I wanted to hear today?” He plays coy with the true reason behind his visit for only a moment longer before settling into natural charm, slightly disconcerted that the other man held a vastly greater allure without actually trying. “White, medium sized, and in an ornate metal holder. The wax has an intricate carving on one side. Does any of that sound familiar?” Fingers brushed at the crux of his neck, an uncharacteristic turmoil overtaking in that moment. As much as Giovanni intended to use Silas for his own knowledge, there came something rather striking about the other man and almost... trustworthy. The sensation struck him as both odd and comforting in the same breath. “If someone wished to pawn it, I thought you might be their first stop.”

Antony was doing his best to try and involve himself in the world of Corinth Bay, freshly in the city getting out of the hotel was his first step. Finding a suitable place for a drink was the second. The building was bopping. Which was a pretty big shock considering it was only a Wednesday night. Maneuvering past patrons, chatting and drinking the night away, he managed to snag a seat up at the bar. The room was full of sparks and warmth, even more so when he heard the honeyed voice of an excitement man beside him. Warmth radiating off him in their close proximity, blue eyes followed the point of his finger, before following the arm back to his eyes, lingering on the strangers smile. Rather taken off guard but happily obliged, “You’re in a good mood.” grabbing his glass once the bartender had refilled it, and tapped it gently against whatever beverage Giovanni was taking with a small c l i n k.  “What are we celebrating?” 

"I have every reason to be,” the human volleyed back with ease, a widening smirk of triumph painting his face as the bartender began to process his generous request. “We are celebrating success and the rampant stupidity of others that allows for it.” Lifting his own newly refilled drink aloft, Gio happily met the other’s glass with his own. “Cheers, mate.” One hearty sip gone and the man rested it once more upon a dark stained countertop before refocusing his attention upon this welcome company. Or, as welcome as a stranger could be when their personality had yet to be deduced. “What’s your name?”

What are some warning signs that your muse is getting depressed? 

Irritation. Loss of interest. Any blockage in his ability to create a plan.

Has your muse ever lived in poverty?

Never. He was born rich and he plans to die even wealthier.

What is your muse most thankful for?

His intellect and his perception. Also his heritage since he doubts those would have come without a childhood surrounded by white collar criminals. Aydin, too.

@aydinxdemir

What simple task is your muse surprisingly bad at?

Cooking. He burns cereal, and yes, you read that correctly.

Would your muse ever roleplay?

What was your muse’s happiest birthday?

Sometime in late childhood/early adolescence before his sister went to prison and his grandparents passed. Around twelve or thirteen when he was home from boarding school on winter break and his family spent time together in Scotland at a ski resort.

Who was your muse’s first kiss?

A roommate at school named Freddie, both on the water polo team and uncomfortably handsome. Nothing came of it and the boys didn’t discuss the event ever again.

Describe your muse’s worst nightmare.

Most people would probably assume it’s getting caught and thrown in jail, but that shockingly doesn’t rank terribly high. Giovanni could still run a game in prison and he’s less concerned with that and more afraid of burning his bridges or contacts. Losing people’s faith and trust in his ability is more frightening.

Who do they tend to bicker with the most?

Does your muse get carsick?

Absolutely not. Sea sick however... He won’t admit to it, but there have been many close calls on boats. Ask Aydin.

What are your muse’s biggest pet peeves?

My very first stop. The words shouldn’t have bothered him. Why would Aydin care what Gio did or didn’t do with the target? He should only care about the information gained that was necessary to getting their next bankroll. Yet — at the very notion that the other man could have done something, he practically bristled. It took everything in him to keep his composure, brow barely quirking at the words to follow, “Since when do you have a brand?” It was easy enough to play off, to taunt just as they always did. He should have known, easily enough too, that Gio wouldn’t have done something such as that. Then again — he wasn’t exactly thinking straight, and Aydin didn’t understand why. But he pushed the thoughts to the back of his head, retrieving his own gloves as he listened to the other speak. “Of course he’s that kind of guy,” the words were spoken in a gruff, gaze dancing around the room. Aydin couldn’t ever imagine living life that way. While he had the means to live luxuriously, much of what he earned was sent back home to his family, to ensure that they lived out the life they deserved. “Alright, you go right, and I’ll go left.” Because how hard could it be to find a candle in a house like this?

“Since I was twelve. Don’t worry, you’re not out of the running just yet.” A playful quip and yet it held far more truth than Gio would ever admit to aloud. How much easier he might disguise his own thoughts with banter and a taunting expression upon his countenance. “Try to sound less impressed with him, it’s endearing.” Admittedly, it intrigued him though, the other man’s sudden venom for their intended target and the concept that the elder of the pair might have engaged him alone. Curious, curious. Slipping into the grand living space, Giovanni began to follow his own advice and observance of Ikaros’ behavior before hues landed upon the fireplace mantle. Hidden in plain sight. There stood the white candle, perched within some ornate holder as described and practically ignorable were it not precisely what had been displayed in the pictures previously obtained. “Aces.” Plucking the desired item off its ledge, he twisted it in his grasp before the startling vibration of a nearby phone distracted his attention. The device belonged to Ikaros, Gio recalled intentionally removing it from the drunk bastard’s person before he’d run off to engage in whatever debauchery called to him. "Aydin,” he called, albeit in a hushed tone and awaited his partner’s reemergence. “Your sister–– her name is Ela, yeah? And you said she’s in the city?”

“And you took your sweet time in doing so,” there was a hint of teasing as he slipped into the near silence of the home. He could hear the heavy breathing, the light snores of those who had drank themselves into a restful slumber. Hell, he could smell the booze as if a cup of it were being held just under his nose. Glancing around the room they currently stood in, he nodded his head as he listened to Gio’s words, “And let me guess, you already searched his room?” There was a light smirk etched into his features, but there was an underlying curiosity. Along with what one may consider jealousy. But he didn’t wait long, stepping over passed out bodies as he went in search of the stairs that would take him to the second level. “He the type to put something like that in a safe?” 

They pulled up outside of his home and the pair piled out, Ikaros stumbled out with his bag of burger and fries swinging idly between his fingers. Gio’s question was a valid one, but it wasn’t one that Ikaros thought about often. “I like the space,” Ikaros said easily, “and I like things. You need space to have a lot of stuff.” The kobalos breezed as he pushed open the doors and greeted the waiting party within, music swelled, someone was already swinging from the chandelier. Ikaros smiled, feeling somehow content. “I count Tremors as a real film all three times.” The kobalos said as he led the man to the den and stood in front of the mantle, prepared to make a speech about how the night was theirs, to have fun, and to be out of his house before he woke up. 

“I think this is my next favorite thing ever.” Vivian giggled with the brightest smile on her yellow lips as her deep brown eyes looked down at the soft pink bear with rainbow ears, feet, and a rainbow heart on its stomach. The raven-haired witch shook her head as she looked back at the game booth that she had just won it from. She was totally riding a victory high as she hugged the small, yet soft plushie. “Want to try a different game? I’m feeling pretty lucky today.”

@corinthbaystarters​

"Next favorite thing? What’s the first?” How on earth he’d become stuck venturing game booths with the petite woman was beyond him, but it was Pride and friends could be made in the oddest of places here. “And where, pray tell, are you planning to put that bear? Not in your room I hope.” She appeared old enough to at least drink, so a bit beyond the age where stuffed animals in the bedroom were deemed acceptable. At least in his opinion. “There’s a balloon popping one down the block if you want to try and test that luck. Why don’t these festivals ever have blackjack or something you can win money at?”