#murdcrofcrows

"well, well, well...look what the cat dragged in." tennessee walked up to her ex-husband - despite the fact that she was the one approaching him it still felt like he was the one dragged about. "you're always checking up on me, so i thought it was time for me to pay back the favor." she glances around, arms crossing over her chest. "how are things going over here? spick and span right?"

"frankie please, have some class." essie sighs, taking a sip of her wine as she observes the other across from her. "i invited you out for a nice dinner, you can turn the flirting down a bit." though she wouldn't admit that she adored it, loved frankie's attention. she just didn't always have time for it. "you wanna tell me everything you've been up to recently?" she pushes now, leaning forward a bit, not shy in the slight plunge of her dress.

never really one to gamble, and certainly not a talented poker or card player, otis never had much luck or fun in the casino. but there were few times they made exceptions of their usual avoidance of the place, and that was whenever rafe dragged them along. "you ever thought about sports betting?" it had been very popular once upon a time, "less strategy but bigger rewards right?" or something like that. they shrug, leaning back in the chair as they sip on the now warm beer.

part of them wondered if they should both head out, part ways for the evening. but then where would otis go? raven? maybe it seemed better to be here, at least here there were no expectations and they could both just...be. laid out on his couch, otis fiddles with the rubix cube that is always on his person. "raven." they state plainly, looking over at them, "are we boring if we stay in on a friday night? or does that make us better than everyone else?"

"si," taylor begins with a soft sigh in her voice as she steps into line with him. "if i was a better person, i'd love to open a cafe where you match a coffee or tea with someone's favorite book." tucked under their arm is a worn edition of emma. "what would you say your favorite drink and book is? we'll start with your combo and build out from there." she teases with a small nudge, biting on her tongue. though it's obvious that this would be a life that would bore taylor to no end, it's fun to imagine what being good and wholesome could lead to from time to time.

she's already draped at the bar, fingers slowly circling the rim of her martini glass. bash had been the soft object of her affection for years now. their 'rebellious' joke of a marriage (she loved being able to say ex-husband) turned casual seemed to serve them well. their legs cross, the slit of the dress falling way to expose them as they look up, eyebrow raising at his late entrance. "you're late, and i'm almost done with my first martini." she smiles, taking another long sip.

location; the faceless ship, 4th level balcony this is the first time donovan’s ever been on a ship, and despite its size he feels oddly like an animal trapped within a cage. perhaps it’s because ultimately, there is no where to go; if things go south at any point, where should the dog run to? it has already been confined and accepted such a fate when it agreed to board the boat itself. that’s why he spends so much time on the decks, overlooking the ocean waves only illuminated by the light of the ship itself, crashing against the steel titan in an endless battle, as if to topple it. at least if something bad does happen, he dies outside amongst the stars, and not trapped in a sardine tin. It might not do, everything might go swimmingly, donnie might not even murder someone this time around, exhaling a slow cloud of smoke from the cigarette that hangs within his mouth. despite it being full of people in masks who seem to be thrilled at the sudden anonymity, donnie cannot help but feel oddly isolated amongst them all. it's a strange feeling for the man who surrounds himself with others, who always has someone to chat to whether that be person or canine. for once, the cup is truly half empty, rather than being half full. not even drink, nor the rush of nicotine can quell such an odd feeling that’s been building the moment he arrived onboard. he feels stuck out, unable to find a familiar face, someone to relate to, a friend. he cannot stay with aranya all evening, there are so many that command her attention, and, after all, he is just the pet. “you know what the worst thing about all this is?” donovan asks a woman nearby with a shock of red hair. “i can’t swim. one odd rock of the boat and i’m a goner,”