god sent me right to voicemail

Ophelia laughs, straightening up the pile of books before them as he questions her. “Yes, I actually enjoy it. Maybe not all of Machiavelli’s stuff, but I do enjoy the classics. I mean, they were written so long ago but we can still find some common ground between us and them through the text.” At least that’s what her essays were about. “Dunno if I’m smart as hell, considering that I chose to spend all this money to do graded book reviews when I could have done this all for fun, but yes. I mean, same can be said for you. There’s no way I could do your job. There’s something for everyone. Including Machiavelli.”

“We are small.” Technically, Zahir was much smaller having never tapped into his steam and used it for its full potential. “Tiny goldfish swimming round and round in a little fish bowl. And you know what makes us smaller? Technology. Connects us together more than before, sucks the fun out of - ” He waves his hand in the air, gesturing at the scenery around them. It was true, the True Knot lived rather solitary life, avoiding the city until it was time to feed. “ - everything.” His loss, though he acknowledges the decline of a drag with a small shake of his head, and takes another toke. “See that’s part of the problem. Getting off the grid doesn’t take you very far until you’re likely to run into a 7-Eleven or some shit.” Brows lift at the question regarding the vibes he emits, can already hear Rose the Hat laughing in his head. “You tell me, is that the kind of vibes you sense when you’re with me?”

“Well if it didn’t hurt so much, I wouldn’t be squirming as much.” Ophelia whined, looking up at him as she held out her arm for him to work. “You should always carry lollies with you for things like this. Like bandaids, lollies are essential.”

“Me? Jealous?” it was one of those things that Lyle had something of an affinity for keeping under wraps. he was usually quite subtle with his jealousy, more than capable of the sort of self-deprecation that would sweep the unpleasant churning of jealousy under the rug. He could hardly be jealous of the attention other people received when he was so reluctant to receive it himself, could he?

One look at Alexi, and Lyle knows better than to even attempt a lie. He wishes he could, though, because the embarrassment blooming across his cheeks in the form of a faint pink blush was very nearly worse than downplaying how he was actually feeling. “A bit, yeah... ‘n I know it’s not, like, valid or anythin’ ‘cos you’re a grown man with a job, ‘n shit, but-” he fiddles with the sleeve of his hoodie, “-I just get worried that someone else’s gonna come along on one’a those nights you’re out at exhibitions, y’know? I know you wouldn’t do that t’me, but, my brain’s just like that.” As they were both acutely aware of, given the similar situations they’d been in countless times before.

“You don’t want me to answer that-” he’s got a hand on her wrist, grip not liable to relent any time soon, a holdover from the fact that he’s just had to pull her away from a group of people. He appreciates that she’s social, he really does, but when it makes his job difficult he’s a bit less understanding.

The sigh that drops from Arkady’s lips is heavy, long-suffering, and he stares daggers at Ophelia until he’s sure she’s not about to run off at the drop of a hat. “And if I had to guess - and I don’t, but I’m going to anyway - I’d assume that you didn’t do much to dispel that notion before I came along, huh?” Finally he releases his hold, tightens his jaw as he peers over her shoulder, eyes the group a few yards away with disdain written all over his features. “You’re here for a reason, Ophelia. For the sake of my sanity, can we please stay on track? No more sudden detours into groups of strangers or disappearing around a corner so you can gossip with a friend? Please?”

For all that he enjoyed spending time in Ophelia’s company - and, he assumed, she in his - the soft-spoken offer had caught Eoin off-guard. Too used to being little more than a passing face for those who wandered his lands, perhaps, to fully appreciate how touching human connection was. Well, alien connection, in this case.

Once his brain has made heads or tails of the offer, a jolt of excited energy has him rubbing his hands together before pointedly stilling them, beaming a lopsided grin his companion’s way with a vigorous nod of his head. “Happily. Absolutely.” He only just holds his tongue, stops himself from voicing all those nagging little questions that would betray just how curious he was about Ophelia’s life here on Earth. “Dunno if I’ll be the best company in the world, but- Yeah, no, always found the night t’be a bit more enjoyable with someone by my side.”

                        𝚜𝚑𝚎  𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚜  𝚊  𝚕𝚘𝚠 – 𝚌𝚞𝚝  𝚝𝚘𝚙  𝚏𝚘𝚛  𝚊  𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚘𝚗 ,  𝚊𝚗𝚍  𝚢𝚎𝚝.        she’s  still  stopped ,  the  bouncer  unswayed  by  her   womanly  charms.   she  rolls  her  eyes  and  drops  the  once  confident  shoulders.  what  gave  her  away  to  make  the  first  words  out  of  the  man’s  mouth ,        i’m  afraid  i  can’t  let  journalists  past  this  point ?        did  she  have  it  tattooed  on  her  forehead?  nonetheless ,  the  raven – haired  woman  sighs  and  wets  plump  crimson  lips.  this  scoop  could’ve  gotten  her  a  big  break  and  it  was   very  apparent   these  big  names  were  starting  to  hire  guards  who  weren’t  easily  swayed  by  womanly  persuasions.  it  was  annoying ,  but  wouldn’t  decimate  her   determination.  she  was  too  seasoned  at  this  point  to  let  that  happen.

                        before  she  can  speak ,  he  opens  his  mouth  again ,  as  if  his  first  statement  wasn’t  enough.  the  smile ,  the  sudden   politeness ,   and  essentially  asking  if  she’s  a  journalist  or  not  instead  of  assuming  as  he’d  just  done  prior —  all  did  not  sit  well  with  jackie.  it  was  as  though  he  caught  his  error  and  attempted  to  fix  it ,  but  the  next  line  would  be  pouring  salt  in  the  wound  before  the  bandage  hit  the  skin.  still  wouldn’t  let  her  in ,  but  instead  wanted  her   company?

                        “ okay ,  first  of  all ,  rude.  assumptions  only  make  you  an   asshole.   second , ”        it  then  hits  her  that  she  can  use  this  to  her  advantage;  she  can  see  what  information  the  man  kept  closest  to  her  target  possessed.        “ i  am  a  journalist ,  but  that’s  not  the  point.  but  since  you’re  clearly  so  desperate  for  conversation  and  i’m   stuck   out  here …  i  might  as  well.  name’s  jackie. ”        she  extends  a  hand ,  a  brow  still  quirked ,  not  quite  sure  what  to  make  of  the  ordeal  yet.

It pays to be perceptive every now and then, sometimes literally in his line of work. The poker face was one of the few things in life that Arkady was actually thankful to have learned, appreciated its utility when he was all but flashed by all manner of people. At least Jackie was attractive - and yes, he had noticed the tantalizing bit of exposed skin afforded to him by the cut of her neckline - that gave her a leg up on most of the people he’d had to body-block in his day. “If you ask around, I’m sure assumptions aren’t the only thing that make me an asshole,” he places little importance on the intention of the insult, finds himself accepting it as a petty bit of revenge for something that has clearly thrown Jackie off.

He grins at the offered hand, wastes little time in returning the gesture, “Arkady. I’d say I’m pleased to meet you but I’ve rarely met a journalist who didn’t make my life a living hell while I was at work, so-” a shrug as his hand returned to its position grasping his wrist, “Since you haven’t immediately tried to kiss me or punch me, I’ll reserve my judgement for now. Wouldn’t want to ruin both of our evenings by being more of an asshole than I already am, right?”

“Hmm?” it’s a stroke of sheer luck that Ophelia’s not walking in step with him when he reacts to her question; instead of being treated to the brief lapse in control - any hint that he might actually be uncomfortable trying to answer that - she’s met with the sight of his back and a minute shrug. He slows, falls into step with a chuckle, “What are you to me? Bit of a stupid question, really, don’t you think?” He’s gaslighting, because of course he is.

Throat clears as he casts a sidelong glance his companion’s way, just the right amount of flippant dismissal carried in the set of his features, “You’re the only competent subordinate I’ve had who’s also not staunchly opposed to sleeping with the boss with no expectation of favours at work. Fairly self-explanatory, no?”

“In that way?” even with their back turned, Riley’s certain that they can hear the smile in his voice as he approaches them from behind. Arms snake around their middle, head resting on their shoulder for a moment or two before he allows his sarcasm to run free once more, “What way’s that, huh?” Voice lowered, it’s then that he presses a kiss to the side of their neck, starts allowing his hands to wander, grins against their skin. “This way?”

He indulges for a minute more before pulling away and pacing back to lean against the nearest stable surface, arms folding over his chest as he simply admires Frey’s form. “Or maybe you mean in that sappy ass way that all those couples in movies love each other. That’s the way, ain’t it? All wooing and dates. Tried that once, remember? Don’t think you were too keen on the whole ‘being patient’ thing... That changed now that you’ve had your fill? Lookin’ for somethin’ all mushy and gooey from your ruggedly handsome boyfriend, Frey?”

Tying a tie turns out to be a bit of a struggle when one isn’t as dexterous as they once were, he’s found; despite the scrunched look of concentration on Riley’s face, he’s more focused on the humour of it all than the bitter tinge of annoyance at the fact that today, at least, he can’t do it himself. It only makes him all the more thankful for the fact that he has someone by his side to help, someone who’ll do so without judgment or pity.

He clicks his tongue and shakes his head as he turns, looks only the slightest bit bashful as he maneuvers a few feet closer to Ophelia, tie hanging loosely around his neck. “The fact that they still hold these gala things is wild-” wilder still was the fact that he still went to them, “-like damn, I’m pretty sure there’s about a hundred other places a bunch’a Sailors, Soldiers, Marines and Airmen would rather be.” His nose scrunches as he tries to watch Phee work without his face getting in the way, “Guess it’s probably the free booze, come to think of it... “