#:: queue

@whispers-in-daydreams sent: Scarlett sat atop the temple roof, wrapping her coat around her tighter. She glanced at her watch. Five more minutes and the monks would retire for the evening until next sunrise. Five more minutes and she'd be a Popsicle. At least she didn't have to worry about Wylan bumbling this up for her. He'd given her the perfect opportunity to slip away when he said he was going to check out the nightlife. Why he even forced her to drag him along on her trip was beyond her. The man could talk the Grim Reaper's robes right off him and act like it was a gift. It was more of a risk really, allowing that man to come with her. He made it harder to do anything. Scout. Research. Shower! What were the point of locks with him around. Freaking pervert. She rolled her eyes, mentally grumbling as Wy's cheeky face came to mind when she'd thrown a bottle of body wash at him. She could feel the relic pulsing in the building beneath her. It was growing impatient. And so was she. Two more minutes. Question was, which would break first, the evil trapped below or the woman freezing above?

Honestly, the night life around this area kind of sucked. Or at least it wasn't at all his speed. If you're going 15 mph faster than all the traffic around you it can be enjoyable for about half an hour. But eventually you recognize that you're driving a lonely road once you've passed everyone else by. One that leads you out of the downtown, in Wylan's case. Back towards where Scarlett had gone to.

Two drinks in, the frustration and oddness of it all was was adequately tempered, a small respite. Enough to keep him from being bitter about actually being ditched. Really, it quickly had been eating away at his patience to leave his attractive friend be for whatever it was she was getting up to. The hotel room they were sharing had two beds. Which was a message in and of itself. Clearly a step ... down? up? away. A step away from when they had shared an air mattress in the back of the car while camping.

Thinking back on that excursion made him want a s'more. Or a treat. A taper to the cold air just as the alcohol was a taper to his cold spirit. Probably not worth looking for a marshmallow, and better to finish tracking down the baker instead. He can't help but grin, thinking about the previous night. It may have been a fruitless encounter, but she wasn't completely against him being around, was she? Two beds... but still permitted in the same room.

Yeah, she's a fun little thing. Isn't she. And it wouldn't be long before he found her.

Flipping open his phone, then pocketing it. It's like there's a change in his silhouette. The flash in his eyes becoming more keen than playful. Viridian gaze may as well have been that of a nocturnal bird, flitting between establishments and the shape of the city. A girl like her would stand out in a place like this. And it's perhaps a stroke of luck that, on making his way up the slope of the road, he catches the broken silhouette of a temple roof. Something there in the shadow that shouldn't be.

...

What is Scarlett doing on the roof?!

Well. She was an urban explorer, he was acquainted with that side of her. Something about her place now however struck him as odd. And incredibly interesting. This is what it feels like when you're cruising down the highway going 15 over when someone passes by doing 30 over.

Do you let them pass? Or do you speed up?

...

"Shh shh. Don't move." Voice is low but hushed. A rumble of familiar mirth after the assassin makes his approach from behind. A greeting touch to her shoulder whilst he leans over her other. Gleaning perspective on what so had her inconspicuous attention. He smiles the whole time. "Hi there. ...y'know, Red- personally, I would've waited behind that parapet over there. This spot's not bad. Though. I don't see how either are as fun as the club floor with me."

Wylan watches her leave through closed doors. And for a moment, outside the longing for moments prior, he feels… what does he feel? It’s a cocktail all its own for the startlingly sober American. Apprehension, awareness, reality, anxiety. This was real, he needed to remind himself, looking from the passage towards the two individuals that had minutes prior been ready to try and beat him an inch within his life. But how real was it? Paranoia tells him Sonia could be calling security. Insanity queries the possibility of her doing something to her cousins for finding him.

Yandere tendencies for Sonia? For some odd reason, he couldn’t put that possibility completely out of his mind. Ah well. It wasn’t lingered on for long before attention was needed elsewhere. Liam and Sam were quick to restart the conversation. Whether it was an aggressive need to show their colors in the presence of another male rival or something else, it was a welcome distraction. He could wait until later.

What was great for Wylan, is that for all the illegal stories he had to share, the brothers had similarly illicit affairs they too could reference or draw comparison to. A perk of being politically empowered, not to mention royal- you could get away with far more than most common people could. Even criminals. Most country’s politicians wished they could get away with as much as the lads. Of course, neither were killers for hire, and breaking and entering into restricted areas.

The assassin had them squarely beat at every turn on that front. Even if the resulting stories weren’t to be so grand or dramatic. There was only so much he could compete with on his scale. But, well, that could change now as he was moving into the throng, wasn’t it? He’d be inside of the aforementioned ‘machine’. Fucking hell. Him.

Sonia re-enters the room, and immediately recaptures Wylan’s attention. If not for her cleaned appearance and new attire, then from her voice which was back to having a full magic effect on the newly infatuated man. Right, but it’s not as though the miniskirt and socks weren’t at fault for some of that blame either. Shit. Fuck. If there was ever a woman he met with an extensive wardrobe it was very likely that Sonia took the cake. Compared to him, dressed in a tight fitting leather coat over a high-necked undershirt in black leather gloves and pants more suited to outdoor survival than they were walking the streets of France- …nah, actually? Maybe? This was perfectly fitting.

“I scaled a building earlier, but a walk never hurt anyone. Sounds like just what I need.” It wasn’t. And then there’s a small, tiny, unnoticeable wince both internally and externally. They were going to stick around? Really? Goes to show the guy wasn’t used to growing up with cousins or male siblings. When it came to his sister she was rarely present and let him do as he liked, for better or worse. She was also younger. Wylan had some things to learn about family dynamics, later, given Liam’s interjection. Yeah, Wylan is liking this guy more and more. Which is dangerous.

“Ah, alas, all too soon we must be parted. I know you’ve already been taken with me just about as much as your cousin, it’s a curse to be this charismatic, believe me.” Said as though he wasn’t swaying the conversation back to blows and physicality with his smirk and behavior. He stands from the couch, all too happy to make his way back over to Sonia, standing with arms folded and a brow lifted. . . because admittedly he’s not sure what to do first given company. Kiss her? Snatch her into his arms? It’d be amusing to take her out the way he came in, of course, but an exit out the door would be necessary.

“Not going to be too cold in that, are you? Maybe we can find something warm to snack on. As far as Europe goes, I have sampled the least food from France compared to many other cultures. And if there’s anyone who can find me a good French take on a burger, it’s y—I’m kidding!” A waved hand to all those gathered, and he smirks again. “We got plenty to talk about anyway. If this is really going to happen. Some of this is still not even settled right in my head and what it means for what I will have to do.”

A snort.

“Ain’t that the truth.... well, whatever you decide on havin’ Raguna, I’ll just have the same.” The larger farmer leaned back in the wooden chair while his friend debated with himself over what warm drink they’d have on this chilly morning. Hot chocolate caught his interest, if only because he’d never heard of the drink up to this point. Other than that... he really wasn’t picky.

 “Coffee is a classic, tea depends on the kind, and hot chocolate... I’m guessin’ that’s sweet, right?”

@emeritusroyalty​ from here

Raguna shuffles through the cupboard, inspecting various containers and bottles as he considers. It was a cold morning, as one would expect with the enduring fall that was teetering on the decision of starting the winter frost. As far as the farmers saw it, the longer it mulled on the decision the better. They might be able to pull off one last crop before the fields had to be cleared. Come to think of it, Raguna hadn’t decided if or how he may employ Izren until spring came…

…wait, what did they say? They guessed? That sparked some curiosity. Raguna paused, a container of coffee set back on the shelf.

Here I stood, no weapon in my hands, making fists out of habit but with nothing to hit.