#rnvnm

Routine was detrimental to someone like Cyrus, yet he found himself falling into it anyway. He'd played at Spell & Bourbon nearly every night this week and last. And while it was lovely having an in with the owner and a spot to play (tonight, it was the sax), he was starting to feel for a change in scenery. This was a problem, really. Especially considering he hadn't lived in Portum for very long.

It felt like he was just waiting. Waiting for whatever it was that had called him here to this small town. Not knowing what that something was made him restless. Reapers were supposed to be skilled in the art of waiting. This reaper however — was a fan of distractions. It made the waiting easier on him. He preferred city life, it was true. Playing at a different bar every night, meeting all manner of souls.

So when he spotted the Agathion from across the speakeasy...well, consider his interest peaked. He wasn't a soul, per se. But he was different. Tonight, Cyrus could use a little different. It didn't hurt that he was easy on the eyes either. And while his gaze easily conveyed his interest, Cyrus had one of the waitresses send the Agathion a drink on his behalf before he could close up his set and pack his instrument away.

Since arriving in Portum, Cyrus had spent the past few weeks in a contemplative state. He spent much of his time writing and listening to music on his aged record player. And when he wasn't listening to music, he was playing it. Every now and then he had periods like this. How could you not when you lived so long? Sometimes it was comfortable living in silence with yourself.

But that sort of thing only lasted in episodes. Once he had started working at Station thirteen, leaving his home seemed to be key to escaping this daydream like state of his. To his surprise, he wasn't the only Reaper residing in Portum.

Cyrus had procured a nicely aged wine and brought it as a gift for Valerian. Collecting wines was something of a hobby of his, and he had kept at it consistently over the last few hundred years or so. Some of his collection was older than even Val himself.

Cyrus gave the door three quick raps and waited. He greeted his old friend with a smile and decided he would beat Val to the punch. Sometimes it was nice to be greeted by predictability.

"Hello, little brother."

gabriel returned to portum different than he knew it in the years he'd been living there. they expected people returning to their routines with fresh outlooks instilled by the dropping of a shiny ball. new years seemed to bring about hope in humans, the promise of a fresh start on the horizon. and yet the angel came back to what seemed like everyone stuck, only in a nightmare instead of the past. ❝ some new year, huh? ❞ the phoenix must be leaving work, gabe thinks, spotting him while they stroll through portum. ❝ how was yours? spend it well? ❞ whatever discomfort nolan felt about their past, gabriel wasn't the avoiding type and held no ill will for the other.