#cloe 01.

“This counts as a work function, right?” It’s probably not the best idea in terms of employment, kind of working for a childhood friend. He’s not even the best person for the job, but he figures what he lacks in skills he makes up for in charisma. Regardless, he’s not going to miss a vampire wedding at the Vatican of all places and he can’t stop looking at the place, it’s the only chance he’s ever going to get to see it, probably. 

It is incredibly ominous to show up the way he did, but it’s something that he’s put off long enough. It’s not like she’d ever come to him, but there’d been whisperings of a halfblood trying to get a seat on the senate for a while. It is probably pointless considering the current state of things, to offer her support, and yet he wants to. If Emma had taught him anything the last couple of weeks it was that he could say his piece and that could be closure enough. He didn’t need this person to like him, but he needed them to know his support was there if they ever needed anything, he’d spent too long being quiet about it. “I know it is close to closing time, but I was hoping to speak with you.” The cakes, while looking like something out of a magazine, look beautiful, but he is there for the woman behind the counter. “It’s of importance.”

“That should do it.” He steps out of the back room and peeks his head around the corner to look to Ira where she’s getting everything ready to close. It’s not the most interesting thing to do on a day off, fix somebody’s wards, but somebody had to do it, he liked Ira, and he liked Ira’s cooking. It kept him sharp too, it wasn’t anything new by any means but he’d been….Wards were something all witches had to know how to do, he just happened to know how to do them at a level that’d keep just about anything out. His older brother had been an ass, but he’d been good at them, and had made a point to teach him because none of them were looking to get possessed by anything.

It’s nothing groundbreaking, it’s a vase, but it’s something to do and Viola loves flowers, he can pawn it off on her if he can’t find a use for it. Or maybe it’ll lighten up the new house. Regardless of it’s use, it’s kind of trumpeted and it’s just a base color. They’re not really skilled at the whole painting thing, logistically they get how it works, but something gets stuck between hands and fingers. Simple lines, something to start out with but he needed….”You wouldn’t happen to know where all the pointy things went? The carving ones?” It’s not a knife, it’s not a chisel, it’s some kind of pointy triangle on a stick and the word for it escapes them. But he’d seen the mortal at the table next to him a few times at the studio, banter had been exchanged, they didn’t feel weird asking. “Not for the like,” He makes a stabbing gesture with his left hand. “But the,” He makes a scraping motion. “That thing.” @praetorleal​