#laurestephens

[pm] Then we should all consider ourselves fortunate that you have yet to find anyone who matches my price. I have a name that I would like to find additional information on. I will pay extra for discretion.

​[pm] What, you don't think I should deserve more hot ladies people who pay me well? JK.

"Laaaaauuuure, my darling...." He walks into the auction house, singing, on top of the world - as he normally is. Two coffees in hand and a spring in his step. He eyes the art on the walls, knowing it's just a little hint to the pieces all wrapped up waiting to be sent to millionaire homes, affluent politicians... "I want to hear the trials, the tribulations... who was the worst person you've seen walk into this auction house in the past month? The most awful customer? It's my required payment for this latte." He holds it out to her with a little bow of his head, dressed stylishly as always - steel toed fashionable leather boots and all.

There's multiple pots on the stove, and the whole apartment smells of garlic, and fresh meat. Onions, potatoes, carrots. It's a delicious stew slow-cooking on a burner while Malachi keeps himself busy. Long hair is tied into braids today - done by Mikala as always before his husband headed off on another job. And Mal's been butchering, and chopping wood, and fixing Mrs. Gulliver next door's kitchen cabinet hinges. All twelve of them.

"Why am I so nice?" He asks Laure as he carries her a glass of red wine. The living room is... eclectic. A huge taxidermy hog head now is up on the wall, accentuated by leather sofas, cozy warm dark colors. A small wood-stove surrounded by brick in a corner. No television. "I'm too old to be so nice." Says the ex-con who killed his wife.