#echomancerforhire

Her gaming interrupted, Gwen lowers her headset to dangle around her neck to make sure that a knock was actually heard and not just the game audio. She wasn't expecting anyone, not this late anyway, and nobody ever knocked. All her friends just barged in.

❝ I'm comin' ! ❞ she yells as she's hopping down the stairs, almost crashing into the door in her haste. She fixes herself up a little bit, smooths down her sundress, combing fingers through long orange locks ( she cannnot have anyone see her looking disheveled on her downtime ! ) before unlocking the door and swinging it open.

Gwen froze, big doe eyes widened a little upon seeing August standing there. Her expression might have been mostly unreadable but her heart was hammering wildly in her chest. It's been months since she last saw his stupid face and part of her wants to jump into his arms. The other part wants to strangle him.

Instead, she slams the door closed.

❝ You got some nerve ! ❞

Ibrahim sat occupied with whatever desk work Wardens did, a pen scratching on paper as he wrote (no computers here, the way magic liked to fry technology). The dogs sat still, like statues but alert if you looked — watching, and ready to spring at a threat.

They sprang at Ayesha as soon as she stepped inside, the two of them at once almost bowling her over...

...and she laughed. "My boys!" she exclaimed, grinning as she reached down to scratch behind an ear with her free hand. "Hi, hi, I missed you too, Noob! Ozzy, come 'ere—"

After a few more blissful moments of dog kisses and belly rubs, Ayesha straightened, steeling herself for the less fun part.

"Hi," she said to Ibrahim, even though hi always seemed weirdly informal. He seemed like a greetings, o Warden kind of guy, but Ayesha would have felt silly saying that. He'd left his paperwork aside, looking at her now. As usual, he didn't look happy with her, but she wasn't sure happy was an emotion that had ever once registered on his radar.

"I brought intel," she went on, placing the item she held on the desktop and sliding it toward him: the Velvet Glove's stolen ledger in its red-leather binding. "Not exactly the intel you were expecting, I know, but since that first outing didn't go exactly to plan, I wanted to make sure I had something for you."

μ::|| meme: questions only sentence starters | accepting [ Ξ ]

θ::|| @echomancerforhire

It was a long shot, hoping that a mortal might have the answers she seeks to a mystery that had stumped even her. But this mortal, from rumors she had heard, dealt in otherworldly things. The supernatural. Kassandra had some experience, but her dealings were more inline with curses, and ancient technology that warped and controlled people. It looked supernatural, but it was just very advanced tech from a long dead super advanced civilization.

"Water and a muffin?" Buffy echoes, her voice doing that little pitch-climb it always does when carbs are on the table. She wipes her sweaty palms on her jeans and offer a bright, slightly exhausted grin. "Okay, first of all, you just said the two magic words that unlock my soul. Second of all... what kind of muffin? Because if we're talking blueberry, I might actually propose to you right here."

❛ His eyes are not above her neck. They are very much on her throat and open blouse. The movie was good. Great, even. G0ncharov was one of Scorsese’s greats. But Hannah was. Such a perfect distraction. His left hand slid into her top. He cupped the opposite breast, squeezing and kneading it. He leaned in. His lips found hers, burning, aching. His other hand reached down, and squeezed her thigh. They were going to miss the monologue…but they could always rewind. This was something to happen NOW. ❜

Magic and technology didn't mix, so Hannah and August's movie dates were never in a theater. They were more of an at-home-on-the-couch affair, with the old TV and VCR in the living room that functioned most of the time.

Sure, it meant that they couldn't watch anything terribly recent, and the picture would foul up here and there (a burst of staticky snow had blanked out half the "whole world wants me dead" scene, the one that always made Hannah tear up a little) but there were upsides to this setup. A dress code that didn't require bras or pants, for one thing. And the privacy: nobody around to see August notice Hannah's lack of a bra, or to see him decide to do something about it.

Nobody around to see anything that happened next.

One of his hands slid into the open collar of Hannah's shirt and the other dropped down to her thigh. She couldn't help but love that sure, possessive grip: a far cry from her sweet, shy Choirboy of their early days together.

August kissed her as his hands explored her body, and Hannah grinned into it. "Damn, that love scene really got you going, huh?" she murmured against his lips, teasing. Shifted so she could hook a leg around him, draw him in a little closer, and it wasn't just his hands she could feel pressing into her.

The tape played on in the background; maybe they could have paused it, but Hannah couldn't remember where the remote was and did not care to try and go looking.

She’d felt it, too. Before August even said anything, it was the hairs on the back of her neck standing on end. “Yeah.” Liza murmured, a small frown tugging at her lips as she linked arms with him and turned the next corner, but the feeling didn’t quite go away. “I hate that feeling… and I bet I know exactly who they work for.” A quiet sigh escaped and she tried to remember to take measured breaths to avoid panicking.