#nox.botb

"i think that was one of my best performances,” ian smirked as he stepped off of the stage, having already handed his guitar off to one of the stage crew. “but i suppose we’ll have to wait for the judges finally opinion,” this time he added a sigh to the end of his statement. he didn’t really care if he won or lost, he just enjoyed the attention that he gained from performing. "can i buy you a drink?” he asked as he turned towards his fan. “or several,” he added, this time with a wink.

oriana was, admittedly, a little tipsy. they were there to work, to try and capture some of the scandal that was bound to unfold. of course, they could always lie—which is what led to oriana, cup in hand and channeling their inner sybill. “five bucks or a drink and i’ll tell you how your nights gonna go.” they said. “whatever works best for you.”

“shots?” augustine held a tray in her hands, looking for a table to camp out at with them. “apparently yelling across the bar isn’t the best way to order drinks. dude heard a higher number than i said.” if not she tray, she would’ve shrugged. “the choice was between taking them and the bartender having to throw them out so, you know.”

"oi, scoot over-” first, she slides the drinks that she’s returned with onto the permanently sticky table that she and nellie had commandeered earlier that evening, making sure not to spill a single drop ( though she’s not sure that would be such a loss ; they look like two close estimations of the same fruity cocktail she asked for, but ginny’s not ENTIRELY sure the bartender of the wyvern had understood the assignment ). then, she uses her elbow to jostle the other along the unsteady bench until there’s just enough room for her fall down at their side. she makes sure to sit with her whole body twisted in their direction from the outset, all the better to talk shit in hushed tones about the grimy old man she’d encountered at the bar. “don’t look now-” she starts, knowing full well they’re going to take the first opportunity to glance over her shoulder no matter what she says to stop them, “but the guy in the middle - the one with the toupee - has asked me to ask you how we feel about heading back to his place and having ‘a bit of fun’. honestly, i thought he was JOKING...- but he told me to pass on that he’s more than happy to wear the maid costume, if neither of us want to.” 

if niko has given anyone the impression of being an overtired father trying desperately to regain control of a long since spiralled situation, at any point tonight, then it’s only because that’s EXACTLY how he’s felt since leaving the opera with susan bones in tow. he had figured ( incorrectly ) that she would be easy to ditch upon arrival at the wyvern and what was more, had somewhat banked on it - his idea of a good night hadn’t included the dawning horror of watching the five foot two junior assistant to the minister of magic downing the line of shots he had kindly provided like they were water, but that was kind of hard to come back from. it was HIS fault they had ended up in this situation, and usually he would be fine cutting his liabilities and disappearing into the night, but he had a funny feeling that anton wouldn’t be best pleased if the last of the bones family turned up dead in a ditch. ergo : “susan,” he says, sternly, grabbing her by the elbow none too gently in an effort to keep her fully upright, flicking the remaining half of his cigarette away into the shadows of the wyverns back alley, “put your shoes on.” 

she didn’t love it, but the truth was that while she really hadn’t been following him, there really wasn’t all that much truth to everything else. and - call it dutch courage running in her veins or, plain & simple, a really bad decision - when the door to the toilet she’d only idly been waiting on opened up to reveal him, ginny didn’t think half as deeply on the choice to jostle him back inside again just as quicly as she absolutely should have. it only takes a matter of seconds to make it in & lock the door again, behind them, but it’s clear how illthought out the whole thing is from the deep breath she takes and impressive buildup she gives only to manage, “hi.” 

【   𝖎𝖓𝖈𝖔𝖒𝖎𝖓𝖌   𝖔𝖜𝖑   𝖋𝖔𝖗  :   𝖍𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖊   𝖆𝖇𝖆𝖈𝖎  (   @impuriities​​​ ​  )   】

"two galleons,” nazli shouts at them without preamble, inclining their head towards the stubby boardman wannabe on stage and adding, for clarification, “on him winning.” someone who had staggered into the bathroom they’d taken up haunting earlier in the night had said something about betting on the outcome, and someone else had directed them towards none other than oriana trelawney. it didn’t seem entirely their speed, but naz had been confident enough in approaching them until a long enough beat passes for them to start wondering if they’d been fed false information and with uncharacteristic sheepishness they ask, “you’re taking bets, right?”