what screams are made of

"That lil psychopath?" There's a faux shock expression on her lips and she's enjoying this, feels as if she's the cat that caught the canary. A lift of her shoulder and her words drawl. "He smashes bottles on the regular, is a gay from the circle of violence and unhinged is totally sexy." She keeps her voice disattached because she won't say it that he needs something dangerous after burying two partners. "You'll have fun but I wouldn't expect him to be your husband." Which after going from a committed relationship with two solid people to a demon that enjoyed dirty and vicious casual sex might have more harm for his risk assessment than he's considered but it feels too gross to say outloud.

Well they're certainly having fun, that's for sure. "We've um, kind of been starting something." He's sure she knows, she's very perceptive and he's not quite been subtle with all the glances in the bartender's direction while he's been at the club. It's kind of....Rowan hopes it doesn't look too much like pining from where she's sitting. It's moreso he's putting himself in Arturo's space in the sense that if he wants him around, he'll gravitate towards him. Or won't forget about him. Something like that. "It's just fun, I think."

Eyes widened, lips parted. "Bubbly?" Laughter - loud and unrestrained spilled out. He supposed Rowan hadn't seen Evelina go absolutely feral before. Few were the lives that Erish led in which she wasn't led by some form of violence, but the druidess was also far more complex then that. Gentle, pensive and bubbly could be used to describe her, just not out-loud without Aren thinking of the former Valkyrie charging into battle with a blood-curdling scream of rage. "... Oof," he breathed out, wiping what would have been a tear in his right eye, laughter dying away into chuckles. "I'm glad you met her," he said more sincerely. "I sometimes wonder the same thing." He grinned and sat back a little more comfortably. "What about you? You're never personal on the podcast and I haven't heard about anyone in your life like that. I guess we never really had the best chances to be deep."

Rowan's looking at Andreas and he's fine talking about Evy, he's fine talking about everyone else's relationships, but his own are still a soft spot. Because yeah he'd just gone through a break up, but before the breakup there'd been grieving with his other partner. He still can't think too hard about Gabriel, can't help but feel this ache in his chest when he rolls over and the dhampir isn't there because he was adamant he spend the night despite him working late. And then there's this string of dates, if one could even call them that. "Not too much right now, trying to kind of put myself back out there, you know?" For the briefest second, he thinks about Arturo and all of their glances at Flirt and that's all out of the question.

Tristan managed to hide the disappointment in his eyes. Conjuration? It wasn't one of the magic schools that he'd ever tried to focus on so he hadn't the practice nor the interest. However, his memory retained his the books word-from-word and he supposed it would be in the coven's best interest if Rowan got a firm grasp on something besides household spells.

"Nothing too complicated, mostly stuff from my apartment down to the shop, figure that's safe." Papers he's forgotten, his phone, all little things as to not have to trek upstairs and ruin his workflow. Little battles, little accomplishments, that's what he has at the moment. That and handcuffs, he can summon those but that's for a hopeful next encounter with Arturo. But Tristan didn't need to know about that. What did those 10 year old's need a pool raft for? "I figure maybe something offensive or defensive might come in handy? Just not sure what." He's basically sitting there, pouring over books and fishing to see what was actually useful.

@rowanivar location: Mystery Stink (Two in The) notes: tattoo connect

"I wouldn't comment on yours." Rowan points out plainly as he straightens up wipe off some excess ink on the linework. And he wouldn't, but he'd be curious as to who the witch was seeing. However, he had never been single when Raffaele was in the chair and he knew the witch was on the apps, he'd seen him there himself. But he's a professional and this is an appointment and now he's the slightest bit sheepish under the other witch's observation. So he simply shrugs his shoulders and goes back to putting needle to skin. "I'm trying to get back into dating." Which is a downright lie but he also doesn't want to explain the truth to anyone. They said the best way to get over someone was to get underneath someone else, but what did you do when you weren’t over someone under 6 feet of dirt?

@rowanivar location: Lupercalia notes: Alexa play You Oughta Know by Alanis Morisette

Post orgasmic haze has him groggy, watching intently as the surface of Arturo's tongue seemed hellbent in memorizing each knuckle of his fingers. His own lips are parted just slightly in a bit of a dumbfounded 'o' shape. At least until the post nut clarity kicked in something fierce because just as quickly as he'd been pulled closer, he was being pushed away. Shoved more like it and the pet name is spoken with venom fitting the scorpion tattooed on Arturo's hand. The wave of rejection that gets to him is drowned out by action, Rowan's shoving his dick back in his pants and sliding his belt back through his belt loops. He's not going to be able to look at the leather ever again without getting a raging hard on, that was for certain. He doesn't bother doing up his shirt, he's too busy fishing his wallet from his back pocket and fumbling to get out one of his business cards. He doesn't give him the one that has the shop number, between the tattooed index and middle finger of his right hand, he holds out the card with his personal number on it. It's something he'll hand off to client's he thinks will wind up recurring, people he wants to work with again. Rowan doesn't think he's ever had so much riding on somebody picking up the nice little square of thick cardstock. "In case you want to touch up your hand." It's still a bit rushed to be casual, but he's also still boneless.

She's flicking through a magazine, one that Bebe found for her and she's still scornful that the other demon had disappeared on her during the end of times but she been plied with enough gifts to manage forgiveness, she bit her tongue that most had come from the looting of the Gucci store. It's got leather covered daddae's and Mothers in it so she isn't giving him her full attention, sometimes he gets a little squirrely when faced with the brunt of it. "Shoot." A cool tone to her voice and they haven't spoken about the fact that he's joined the least friendly demon coven, even with Amico there.

"That bartender at Flirt...." Somehow he thinks just saying Arturo's name out loud might alert the demon himself somehow and that didn't fly. Not when he was well aware that hooking up with someone more than once kind of meant something usually. It's not like Rowan is looking to get into an actual relationship and somehow he doesn't think the bartender is either, but it's also not like he'd say no to seeing him again. "In terms of risk assessment...." If Sybella said to lay off though, he would, he trusted her.

Tristan was annoyed for .5 seconds at being asked a question before realizing he actually wanted to answer. He remembered how fun it was being a know-it-all as a young witch learning in class. There was no classes for old ass Rowan now. Maybe it was a little sad he had to miss the chaos of 11 year olds trying to levitate their tamagotchi's, and maybe Tristan really did want to help. Shaking off his broody post-prison attitude was something that he badly needed to work on.

"Conjuring." In all honesty, Rowan hadn't realized summoning Sybella was that big of a deal. He'd needed someone on his side to sort of guide him through all this, he liked demons, it'd seemed like a good first step. What'd been harder for him was the delicate hand meant to heal when Ciro had taught him about reforming that grape. But Rowan looks up at Tristan with casual curiosity, he doesn't quite get the guy's attitude, thinks he's maybe a bit stuffy, but he's not really one to judge. It's not like the guy is outright an ass, if anything he seems a little hesitant when it came to change or having someone like him in his space and he figured he'd be a little offput by some guy who just got magic out of the blue, too. "I just think it'd come in handy." And it was interesting, summoning was conjuring, right? So he'd managed something bigger in that department once already.

Zagreus didn't want small talk. He didn't want iced coffee, either, but who was he to deny the poor struggling witch? Wasn't going to be him. He was sipping the iced coffee now, wrapped up in a blanket. He'd waited fifteen years for these moments, and instead, he'd been dumped by his boyfriend. He'd waited fifteen years to be dumped. Little Zagreus, always tripping up at the end. He had been mortal and it had been fine; he couldn't even share the news that he was immortal with an immortal boyfriend because now he had no boyfriend. He had nothing but Rowan and that was something he wouldn't want to discuss. "I can leave. This is nice of you, though. The iced coffee. I'm just – shit company. I'm depressed. I was trying to feel something." He was at least honest.

"Yeah, same." He'd kind of figured that from the whole encounter. It'd been less of a "can I buy you a drink" kind of deal and more of a "I am clearly drinking alone to escape feelings too, do you want to bang" thing. He's done a lot more of this kind of thing lately, the hooking up. It's all nothing, it's not like he doesn't care, it's more that he's distracting himself by pleasing somebody else, like somehow that'll make it all better. If he can't make himself feel good, he can make somebody else feel something at least. Or maybe he's just tired of jerking off alone for the dopamine hit. "You wanna talk about it? I'm a good listener." And they don't know each other, not really. It'd be a free therapy session free of judgement.