#accustiv

Ikaros doesn't know why he's so nervous. Maybe it's something about waiting years for someone you care about to get released from prison, and he knows Beau must've changed in that time while he hasn't at all. The passage of time works differently for him. It always has. It's not like he ever stopped coming to see him or anything like that, but the worry lingers. Was Beau only glad to see him because he had no other choice, or because he genuinely wanted him there?

It's silly. It's stupid. There's nothing to worry about. Maybe he should've splurged on some nice rental car to pick Beau up in rather than his shitty, old as fuck beater, maybe, maybe, maybe--

Stop.

He takes a deep breath to calm himself, trying to stare so intently at the doors. He almost feels pathetic, being so eager, like some kind of lost dog waiting for its owner. Even still, when the doors open and out comes Beau, Ikaros' heart leaps into his throat.

06:20 [text: beauregard] how and why are yuo awake this early jesus fukcing christ

06:21 [text: beauregard] yes i have ur jacket and ur not getting it back

06:21 [attachment: beauregard] {it's a photo clearly taken the previous night, where Char is a) definitely wearing the jacket and b) definitely more than a little drunk}

     " THERE YOU GO. "     as far as soup goes,   this is hardly the most creative e.ames could have gone.   vegetable stuck,   some cut up carrots  &  spring onions,   noodles,   meat balls.   last time he made this kind of dinner,   his sister had been twenty - two  &  just broken up with her girlfriend at the time.    (they had gotten back together twice after that,   a shit show for everyone involved.)    the situation holds more gravity now but when had soup ever failed anyone?   there is very little that cannot be resolved by a steaming bowl of food,   a few slices of baguette  &  a dimly lit kitchen table.    " fair warning,   there is a good chance the soup is terrible. "    there isn't  &  it won't be:   e.ames has full trust in his skills in the kitchen.   but some lines need an introduction to work.   that,   &  relying on laughter to get through what is bound to be an uncomfortable conversation has always been his number one strategy that only failed him   .  .  .   occasionally.    " i have some terribly old wine,   though,   if you want to wash it down. "

       she had done all of the particularly flamboyant things: send a mysteriously-tailored custom suit of finest quality, bottles of incredibly expensive champagne and liquor, send one of those cars that people apparently care about. and of course, meet him in her finest dress at a cleared-out, obscenely expensive restaurant. one of the pretentiously overdesigned, minimalist places.

       and there he stands. the mark of her... mark. he's shorter than expected.

       "since our mutual acquaintance set this dinner for us, i won't waste your time," she says from her seat with a charming, dimpled smile. "i'm here as something of an ambassador for my mother. you've had... glowing reviews, shall we say. and we've work for you, should this little date go well." she pauses. "oh, but the dinner is complimentary— order anything you like. consider it a gift from an admirer."

"And what makes you so sure that our dear little Casper isn't going to run the second he sees me, hm? As much as I would love to convince him to get back into the game, well...he's much jumpier now than he used to be, I suspect."

Kit snorts, absently tapping their foot as they look over at Beau. This is the unlikeliest of actual alliances. After everything, Kit would've never expected Beau to take them up on their offer. They think it's funny...but also a bit sad. They'll hear him out, though. If anyone is likely to get close to Casper, it's Beau, especially after the last time Kit saw him.

"You know, I feel like I should start expecting you when someone buys my time. Um--not that I'm complaining! It's actually kinda nice for it to be the same person over and over...at least I know what to expect."

Ikaros laughs a little, patting the spot next to him. He has to admit that he's a little relieved...he always gets nervous if it's someone he's never been with before. Ikaros never knows anyone's true intentions, and the Fates always know how to play with him the most, so could he be blamed if he was a little jumpy or nervous sometimes?

It's fine, though. He trusts Beau. It's been long enough that they have that, at least.

[SMS: Beau 🤩]: hi, beau! sorry i've been MIA the past...oh, god, two weeks? i'm really sorry about that.

"I would ask how you found me, but..it doesn't really matter does it? After all, that's just the sort of thing our type does. Come in, then."

Kit has definitely seen better days than this. It's not so exciting having the FBI and Interpol on your tail when they've actually seen your face, and they suppose that's their own fault. No one knows what happened to them after Casper shoved them into the safe room when the mine collapsed. As far as anyone knows, Kit Harris is dead, crushed by the falling rocks of the mine...or maybe not.

Even still, it's better to be safe than sorry. They had told their crew to scramble for the foreseeable future, a couple years at least, just so they wouldn't be so hot anymore. So here Kit is, essentially living in the middle of nowhere. They've let their natural blonde grow out, chopped most of their hair off, really, so it lays just beneath their shoulders. The home they're in is small, unsuspecting. No one would ever be the wiser.