#somnasin

"Darling, you are dressed similar to the wait staff," Eames teased, offering up a cheeky smirk. "It was only a matter of time before someone asked."

Looking around, he spotted those they were meant to be keeping an eye on. Apparently they seemed so at ease they didn't think about anything else. It would make things even easier for the two of them, and taking a sip from his glass, he was surprised to see Arthur with a glass in his hand. The pointman rarely drank, so apparently there was more  than being mistaken for wait staff.

"Are you sure it's just being mistaken for a waiter that's bothering you?"

[ learn something? who is this guy kidding? the tea-seller stares, incredulous, until the slightest shiver of disgust comes over him. he recovers, sips his drink. it still takes a second to pry his eyes away from the peculiar delicacy. ]

“ --- learn somethin’ like what? there’s plenty’a ways eatin’ bugs could go wrong. besides, it ain’t jus’ the fact they’re snails- i’m pretty sure i saw someone... “ [ he leans in toward the snails- no, what are they called? there’s a name for them when prepared this way, but he doesn’t recall just now- and sniffs. ]

“ --- oh, yeah. those are cursed. at the very least enchanted.”

He hadn’t actually been referring to the cadet.

The Mandalorian chuckled, though the sound filtered through the voice modulator and sounded more like a scoff. His shoulders lifted up slightly in a shrug as he watched the kid disappear down the alley.

“Well...” he prompted.

“I’ve got Russian ancestry in me, Arthur. I can handle whiskey well,” he said, totally not pouting as he watches the man dutifully put things away. He wondered if Arthur had a minor case of OCD, with how neat the man is with his organizing.

Once laurie finished flicking off the driver that had the balls to honk at them, she straightened out her rain coat, and turned to the guy who seemed a little too calm following a near death experience.

Her eyes caught onto the smile that didn't really reach his eyes. He was handsom in a tired kind of way. She chastised herself for being so shallow. It wasn't all about looks, and more about whether or not they looked both ways before crossing the road.

❛ What are you, um, looking at? ❜

THE HAUNTING OF HILL SENTENCE PROMPTS || OPEN!

DETECTIVE GAVIN REED’S   w i t h e r i n g  side-eye seems to have already gotten under plastic skin, a proud sneer spreading across his expression. HE’S WON THIS ROUND.

“ Who  the  F U C K  was talkin’ to YOU,  tin can? ”   He gawks at Arthur, closing in on him with a menacing white knife of a smile across scarred features, practically  DARING  him to speak out of turn again.

                              “ I  don’t remember  hearing  a n y o n e  ask  you  to say  JACK SHIT. ”

Already his fellow Detroit PD officers are heaving their sighs and mumbling among themselves about Reed about to end up costing the department  ANOTHER  SEVERAL  THOUSAND  in setback if he damages another android while on the job, but Gavin’s not one so easily quelled without a sidearm to his temple and no one here appeared to be in the mood to do the paperwork required for more HR BULLSHIT when they got back to the station.   —  It looked like Arthur was on his own for this one.