#kit 01.

“Is this seat taken?” The question is exasperated, it’s hot out, the bar area is crowded, there’s a door open to a section of the balcony to the right of it to let in the cool night air but Emory doesn’t quite think it matters all that much. The air is humid and hot and the crowd of people just makes everything feel stickier and he’s wearing a lace shirt. Everyone’s solace is a cold drink and he’s no exception and there is but one seat at the bar left open, he can’t ever bring himself to sit at a table alone, but he’s not so desperate that he is willing to be outright rude, worst case scenario he’d meander onto the expansive patio and attempt to process that this whole thing was happening. @handofyohanan​

“Needed some air, too?” The early summer heat is inescapable no matter where they are and Marcella finds herself turning to look at the person who has also made their way onto the stone patio. Another witch, she can feel it, one that looks vaguely familiar. Her search for more witches had been halted by everything else going on, she was more concerned for the vampires she knew and cared for. Still, her eyes take in this new witch and she hates that she feels like she’s scrutinizing her, sizing her up. It’s an old habit, one instilled upon her by her mother. But Antonella wasn’t in her life anymore and she didn’t actually have any competition, it was all in her head. Another witch was simply a friend she hadn’t made quite yet, they could be an ally. “I don’t think anyone around here has heard of air conditioning.” @handofyohanan​

It’s a quiet place, kind of feels more like a hotel lobby than a bar, but Anton doesn’t mind it. It’s a luxury, something he does every two weeks when he takes a day off just for himself. Nothing was ever really going to beat the imports his father sent him, but it was more of a social thing. Not like he usually socialized, he’d bring a book, sometimes he’d save business calls for such a specific day, or on rare occasions, he’d drag Lain along with him just to get the other lycan out of his house and head. It’s a weekday, it’s a beautiful afternoon in Rome, and so the place is quiet aside from the music, the occasional clink of ice in a glass, the snip of a cigar cutter. What rouses him from the terrible Pitchfork review he was reading was the magic that swept into the room, carried by a witch short in stature. He spares just a glance, scrolls down on his phone with one hand, tips ash off the end of his cigar into the tray beside him. He minds his business until the witch is situated, is lighting her cigar and it’s only then does he give a slight nod of acknowledgement, they’re simply two supernatural creatures enjoying an afternoon smoke. “What are the odds?” @handofyohanan​

“Are you going to pick one?” Eurydice looks from where she is literally sitting in the dirt amongst the little gourds and her eyes narrow. A wolf, she recognizes the energy and she wonders if she’s glimpsed him in the woods before. He is lucky she likes their kind, they are also of the forest, not like her or her fellow dryad, but the wolves belong there, she thinks. “I can do so without hurting their vines if you want one.” @kitxberker​