#(castor.)

castor’s night had been a long one to say the least; two articles due in to his editor by midnight and not enough energy left in his bones to have made them good ones. all the same, he congratulated himself for finishing on time at all by stumbling out to the local 24/7 diner. coffee in hand and pie on the way, he finally came to life again atop his shoddy barstool. “ got the time ? ” he cracked casually, a lazy smile spread across his lips. it was just late enough that being friendly might get him somewhere interesting.

it had been months since castor last let himself feel light. between work and duty, there’d been little time to rest and less to play. his career path was one deadly and secretive, and it had left him to cope now in odd ways. on a wednesday night, the bar sat mostly empty. seedy enough from it’s weekend crowd that only those who knew what they were walking into tended to frequent the time-weathered booths and shaky stools. but that was fine -- because even if it wasn’t a particularly popular bar, it was quiet in all the ways a front needed to be. and the old jukebox in the corner still played for the right amount of quarters and dimes. cas sat on the wobbly wooden tower closest to it -- 75 cents invested in its rotation -- and sipped his rum pineapple with happy abandon. it was his night off, or so he’d told everyone who’d passed close enough to hear it. his bosses weren’t looking for him loitering there beneath their noses. and when someone finally slid onto the stool beside his, he only glanced over with an easy smile.

“ nice night out isn’t it ? this song really slaps. ” and okay. maybe he was tipsy.