Restaurant and Lucky bar ~ NPC Owned Business ~ London

[MJ Spooks]

Antony is...spacespacespacespace
CURRENTLY // Looking Handsome at the Barspace
CURRENTLY // singlespaces
CURRENTLY WITH // Bellespacesp
CURRENTLY FEELING // Drunkspacespa
CURRENTLY THINKING // 'Really should keep my mouth shut...' spacespac
♈ ♈ ♈ 'Sweet dreams are made of these
Who am I to disagree?' ♈ ♈ ♈
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spaceShe spoke of disappointment, and he merely nodded, taking another sip from his glass. Disappointment. Those parties had always been disappointing, hadn't they? Although, he supposed it was for an entirely different reason on her part. She'd probably been bored by the parties, wished for some excitement, wished for fun. He'd just wanted to be out of the house and around people who wouldn't turn a blind eye to his father's abuse. And like her, he'd often found that the parties failed to meet his expectations. A cuff on the head, maybe a slap on the cheek, all over the tiniest slights, and still, no one said anything. People knew. They had to have heard the sounds coming from the hallway, the bathroom, the library. But no one had said anything... no one had saved him.

spaceAntony smirked as she declared that he'd been 'good.' Ah, yes. The wall between him and his peers. Almost every other child he knew had only behaved when eyes were on them. The second the adults were out of sight, even if they lurked just around a corner, those children would inevitably find some way to cause trouble. Chasing one another, bullying or teasing, or just working together to get into a room they'd been told to stay out of. He'd never dared to do any of that; he'd have surely been caught (as they often were, despite her statement that he'd have been the one to cause it), and his father would have been quite displeased. Given the punishments he'd received for minor infractions, things like forgetting to say please or thank you, being a few seconds late to the table at dinner, he could only imagine what he'd have faced had he actually been one of the troublemakers. Or rather, he couldn't, and assumed they'd have been quite awful. "I was actually quite good at not getting caught. Not that I ever did anything, after all, but still. My father... he was easily displeased. I had to learn to hide if I didn't want him on me constantly, punishing me for things no parent in their right mind would even care about." He frowned. He'd said that aloud... why had he said that? The familiar fog covered his thoughts, made his tongue loose. He'd never slipped like this before, though... of course, typically when he drank, he drank alone. It was why he frequented muggle bars rather than any of the myriad of places known only to the wizarding community. He found he wasn't very social... it was hard to drown your troubles when people were asking about them, after all.

spaceWhen she said her name, a flash of recognition lit his eyes. Rich... he'd heard the rumors, of course. Hard not to, with his grandmother. Lenore Tempest always had to know everything, after all, about everyone. Annabelle Rich, who'd been attacked with her fiancee, who'd barely made it out. The fiancee hadn't been so lucky, though... such sad news. And she was going to change her last name? To what? Surely not the dead man's. That seemed like a perfect way to ensure she'd be dwelling on it forever, after all. Of course, he could relate to wishing he didn't carry the name he did... Tempest wasn't exactly a beloved name. "S'pose I can relate to that. It'd make things easier, not being who I am. Coming from an old family does that, I guess." Except it wasn't old families, not really. It was Slytherin purist families who still thought that Voldemort'd hard the right idea. Awful people who thought they were better than others because of the blood in their veins and the name they carried. It was all nonsense. And yet, they clung to it like a babe to it's mother's bosom.

spaceWhen she asked about his family, he shrugged. "Well, I recently learned I had an Aunt I never knew about... Callidora Tempest, my father's little sister, who was apparently so awful as a child grandmother sent her to Paris. Her mother lived there and apparently ran some sort of finishing school. Doesn't really explain why I've never heard of her before, but whatever. She's living with us now. Early on, I'd say she's positively horrid, just like the rest of my family." He finished his drink, grimacing. When had he become so free with his words? But then, she seemed as drunk as him, if not more so. Perhaps she wouldn't remember... The question about his daughter, though, brought a smile to his face. He set the glass down, his eyes alight. "Persephone. She's seven now. I can't... she's perfect. I have no idea how she's so perfect living in my home. But she is. She's sweet and inquisitive and smart and well-behaved. And I couldn't have asked for a better daughter." He spun the glass in his hands. She was the one thing that made everything worth it. His marriage, however short-lived, had been awful. His father had arranged it, of course, with a woman he's thought was top notch... which made her nothing like what Antony preferred. But thanks to it, he had his sweet Persephone... and a very good reason to never, ever, remarry. Well, two, really, but no one needed to know the second...

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♈ ♈ ♈ 'Traveled the world and the seven seas
Everybody's looking for something.' ♈ ♈ ♈

(( OOC: ))
...

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Essy ze Ninja

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[Essy ze Ninja]

So you wanna call me the devils' advocate
But you don't even know the half of it
I was raised to believe in miracles
My life is so cold




Annabelle Emery Rich
Blaze of Glory: Dueling Range Owner
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Easily displeased, she’d heard him say, it was only the slightest phrase in a series of sentences and yet it had stuck out the most in a jagged way. It brought memories; too many of her mother, deranged and ill, and of her father whose plans had always been to marry her off, sell her like property, no, worse, like cattle. She was a cow. A bloody cow. She almost laughed at the desperation of irony that sat in the drunken stupor. A smile wormed onto her lips, it spat the madness of a woman with nothing left to lose as she tapped a manicured nail on the bar top to order herself another. The martini reached her fingers in swift time and pouted lips searched for the happiness that she hoped to find at the bottom of her glass. ”As rotten I was, my parents never kept an eye on me, they... well, it doesn’t matter, does it? We’re not children anymore,” she mused and escaped behind another tentative sip of her glass. But she was wrong, and they both knew it to a certain extent. Children or not, expectations were always driven to high standards especially in the publicity of the wizarding community (which was why she was here, to be honest.)

”Traditions have always been so dear to families like that, like ours; I just want to break away from it all, start new.” She mused, her gaze wandered with a doleful sheen. Shifting, she turned to face Antony fully, instead of feigning the same tired charade of feigning disinterest by perusing the decor of the bar. She didn’t care for masks, for games, for deceit or sin. She just wanted... to be. And as much as she had wanted to ignore the problems, Belle couldn’t deny it wasn’t theraputic to finally be able to... to just curse it aloud, and with a near stranger who must’ve felt the same. But even if he didn’t, and even if this was a ploy, a treachery or mechanism for blackmail; she just didn’t care anymore to fight it. But it wasn’t, was it? Any doubt from her mind faded as he dived in; his brows nearly twitched in annoyance as he recounted his family, his aunt, Paris, and then every ill emotion faded and something much happier shone. His daughter seemed absolutely divine, and just the look on his face had brought a bright smile to her own. ”She sounds so lovely, and brilliant, I’m so happy for you.” The emotions gushed behind the flood of alcohol coursing in her veins like the rivers of a broken dam. ”Spend as much time as you can with her, before you know it, she’ll be running around with friends and boys and... It’s just amazing how time flies.”

“I...” She paused, eyes glossy and wet. Her fingers hoverd over her lower abdomenn. It wasn’t so long ago she’d been attacked, not so long since she’d heard the news and the splinch of her failed apparation had killed the.... ”You must be so proud of her.” It was hard to smile now, because she wanted to cry. But it was happy and it was sad all at once and she couldn’t understand why or how; joyous that he was blessed, and miserable because she was cursed. She muffled a laugh behind her hand as she shook her head and turned away, calming her breaths and then tossing her head back for a shot of her martini to drain down her throat.

”You know you--you what you should do, you should take her out as-as much as possible; I wish I would have had someone to steal me away from my grandparents and their poisonous rubbage, ugh, no one in my family was any better, just worse.” She rolled her eyes and her words slurred.



Location: Lucky Restaurant at the bar
Fashionably: Martini Dream
Details: Eighteen Years Old, 5’8”, Pureblood


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[MJ Spooks]

Antony is...spacespacespacespace
CURRENTLY // Looking Handsome at the Barspace
CURRENTLY // singlespaces
CURRENTLY WITH // Bellespacesp
CURRENTLY FEELING // Drunkspacespa
CURRENTLY THINKING // 'Really should keep my mouth shut...' spacespac
♈ ♈ ♈ 'Sweet dreams are made of these
Who am I to disagree?' ♈ ♈ ♈
═════════════════════════════════

spaceAntony would’ve liked for his father to ignore him. It would’ve been wonderful… to go unnoticed would’ve been infinitely better than to’ve had his actions watched like a hawk, his every mistake treated as though he’d committed the most egregious of sins. But he sensed that perhaps to her, the lack of attention had been less than appreciated. Such was the life of a female born to a noble family; never important enough for any real attention, but always forced to meet the most ridiculous of expectations. He wasn’t sure if his life would’ve been better, or worse had he been female. Gauging by how his father treated Persephone, he’d guess better, but then, Seph was his granddaughter, not his daughter. Perhaps Lysandar Tempest would’ve been just as cruel to a daughter of his own as he’d been to his son. Given that the girl had never existed… he wanted to be able to be envious of her. And to imagine that her life might’ve been better. “I suppose you’re right. It doesn’t matter.” Except it did; their childhoods had left scars… scars that would never fade. Ugly reminders of wounds on their psyche that would never really heal. He ordered another drink, his eyes dark, depressed. Staring at its amber depths, he swirled it in the glass, wondering if he drank enough, if he drowned himself in its pool, if it would help to hide those ugly marks on his soul. It wouldn’t, though. He knew that, deep down.

spaceAt the word tradition, he snorted. Tradition. To his ears, it was practically a swear, a hideous word his family used to justify their cruelty, their idiotic hatred and foolish pride. “Break away… that sounds… amazing. I can’t… I wish I could do that. But I have my daughter to think of. I can’t support her on my own. I don’t make enough money to hire someone to care for her during the day while I’m at work. I don’t know anyone who would do it for free.” Sad, but true. Being a Tempest meant he didn’t have many friends… or any. Just people he worked with, people he had to speak to at parties… none of them mattered. Only Persephone did. And he had to do what was best for her. Even living in his home, with his family, she was perfect, so obviously he was doing what was best for her. To take her away from that security, to leave her with no one to care for her during the day and have to work extra hours just to keep her healthy and safe… he couldn’t do it, no matter how much he wanted out. Of course, if any of those people were worth knowing, worth befriending… but they weren’t. He’d never seen any evidence that anyone from his family’s social circle was worth knowing or befriending. Of course, if Belle was one of them… but how did he know she was really any different? Perhaps her drinks had loosened her tongue for now, but who was to say that, when the fog cleared and her mind was her own again, she wouldn’t be just the same? After all, every other woman he’d known to come from her situation had a similar story. They all considered leaving it behind, wanted something more… or said they did. But in the end, the money and the parties and the pride won out. They never left… did they even really want to? Or were they just drunken words, prompted by desperation, by a day gone wrong, one that wouldn’t seem so awful in the morning. For all his words, he’d never left… he had obligations preventing his escape, of course, but he could find a way around them if he truly tried. He could get out if he dared to try… but he would never dare. He didn’t have the courage… and if Persephone was happy, was it really so bad?

spaceHe watched her carefully, looking for some hint, some clue as to how devoted she really was to this idea of leaving it behind. He watched her expression change as he spoke of his family, and when he got to Persephone… her words rang in his ears, sad, longing… why? He supposed the death of her fiancée would impede her ability to start a family of her own, but really, if she didn’t want to be a pawn to her family, wasn’t it better that she would never have to marry that man, bare his children? She had a chance to find a better man, one who she could choose. Wasn’t that better? Of course, it could simply be that she knew deep down that she’d never truly leave, that it was a cold, distant dream. After all, given what had happened to her previous intended, the chances of her family finding another to betroth her to were slim. Perhaps she knew that… perhaps that was why she drank. Because she knew, and it was painful… He listened to her words, but watched her carefully. He saw her hand lower to her stomach, and his brows crinkled curiously. What… the ghost of what could have been lingered in her eyes. His gaze narrowed, his expression probing. She wouldn’t say, he knew, and he had no right. But, he wanted her to say something, to explain the sorrow. His expression had mirrored that, once upon a time, when his wife had died. He’d always held a hope that once their daughter was born, it would bridge the gap, make her relatable to them, make things easier. That even if they never loved one another, they could at least be close, be friends. They’d never even had the chance… so what chance had she lost?

spaceHe watched her drain the glass, noticed the haze in her eyes when she turned back to him. Her advice rang in his ears, echoing the words he’d promised himself when she’d been born. To keep her from her family as much as possible, to spend time with her and let her grow up to be Seph, not Persephone Tempest. So that she could be a little girl, not a commodity for his father and grandparents to play with. He’d made all those promises… and yet he hadn’t done much. He was working so much… so busy all the time. He left her with Ava as much as possible, let the young Squib watch his daughter so that he could earn the money to support her. He’d been saving for a long time, hoping that one day, he could take her away. But it would never be enough at this rate… he could only take the barest bit from his pay to put away, after all. Everything he earned was supposed to go in the family vault. They noticed when he was short by any noticeable amount… by the time he could care for her on his own, she’d be grown. “I… I want to take her away. I want to raise her away from them, to keep her from them and their poison. But… I don’t know what I can do. I can’t raise her alone, and… I can’t remarry.” Those last words, so simple. He doubted anyone would ever understand why… and he could never explain it.

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♈ ♈ ♈ 'Traveled the world and the seven seas
Everybody's looking for something.' ♈ ♈ ♈

(( OOC: ))
...

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Essy ze Ninja

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[Essy ze Ninja]

So you wanna call me the devils' advocate
But you don't even know the half of it
I was raised to believe in miracles
My life is so cold




Annabelle Emery Rich
Blaze of Glory: Dueling Range Owner
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Belle could feel his eyes on her, as a woman, she’d gotten used to that. But what she hadn’t been used to, were his eyes drilling into hers, watching her every movement without a lingering glance. It was like she was being interrogated, by a woman, she realized in her drunken stupor. Being sized up, and stereotyped, labeled and filed away as categorizations, just another purebred witch whining. Always whining. She sighed. Was she really so pessimistic that she’d sunken so low to think that this man would be doing that to her, right now?

She dared to steal a glance out of the corner of her eyes, and met his gaze with a static shock. Nope, she realized. I have to be right, he was watching her like a hawk, waiting for her to break. This, this would normally be when the witches start to get catty, when tempers flared and jealousy and envy stole the reins. As if this was a competition that only the elitest could win. Socialism wasn’t much different than that, was it? But he wasn’t a witch, he was a wizard. He snorted and carefully plucked his words on hazardous strings. She lamented, reveled in his predicament and sighed. Did she dare request another martini? Hadn’t she had enough? The clouds rolled on in her distant eyes, reflecting across the murky green waters. ”It is,” she admitted. ”It really is. But it’s hard. Anything worth having in life is hard, isn’t it? Sad, but true,” she mused, a distant sigh wavered on her lips. ”But it’s a relief, trust me,

“I don’t think I’ve really even spoken to my father since I moved out and actually started building the dueling range in Hogsmeade, old b*****d never believed I would. But ******** him,” she swatted her hand, and in her mind, she practically had just slapped the man across the face. And with the way she spoke about him, it wasn’t very short from it. Her lips parted, and she straightened her posture for just the moment. She’d almost wanted to speak, to force her lips and tongue to express how much she’d love to help him, help his little girl. But he didn’t even know her, how could he trust her?

How could she expect that from him? She couldn’t, could she? The threat growled behind Hell’s gates, and the inferno bubbled turmoil in her core. Old memories were undusted; childhood stories she’d repressed, each traumatic in their own way. She could feel his blatant stare boring into the side of her face, but her gaze was too fixated on her empty glass to really care. The bartender had doted upon her, given her a longing glance as she turned down the offer for another drink. She knew her limit. And she knew she’d puke if she had one more.

Flittering eyes darted between Antony and the countertop, wondering so curiously. Why is he doing that, she blinked. Or why hadn’t he? She stiffened her bottom lip, straightened her posture. Nothing. She arched her back, pursed her lips. Still nothing. Stretched her arms, flexed long legs. Still.. nothing. Okay, now I’m being ridiculously insecure, she tried to tell herself. She shook her head, drained the hazy fog from her mind and focused her attention in his eyes. ”I can help you. I mean... it can’t be easy, being gay in a pureblood home.” There, she’d said it, and so carefully too, skating on thin ice. Now she waited with baited breath. But she knew it had to be true. It had to.

Or maybe it wasn’t, and she’d just made a fool of herself, and him. But if that was the case, she could blame it on the alcohol....

Because it’s always the liquors fault. Everyone knows that, right?



Location: Lucky Restaurant at the bar
Fashionably: Martini Dream
Details: Eighteen Years Old, 5’8”, Pureblood


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[MJ Spooks]

Antony is...spacespacespacespace
CURRENTLY // Looking Handsome at the Barspace
CURRENTLY // singlespaces
CURRENTLY WITH // Bellespacesp
CURRENTLY FEELING // Drunkspacespa
CURRENTLY THINKING // 'Really should keep my mouth shut...' spacespac
♈ ♈ ♈ 'Sweet dreams are made of these
Who am I to disagree?' ♈ ♈ ♈
═════════════════════════════════

spaceAntony saw the odd look in her eye, but was too drunk to care what she might be thinking of him. He was far too busy being surprised that she'd apparently actually already take the first step to separating herself from her upbringing. He wished that he was free to do that, but..

spaceHe had been taking another drink when she said that word. His secret, the word he could never hint at, never let anyone even think... that hated word, the one that threatened to take everything away from him, from his daughter. He choked on the drink, his eyes going wide. He set the glass down, his entire being tense. The buzz of the alcohol thrummed, his teeth grinding. That word, the one he spent his whole life straining to hear, searching for the whispers, dreading the rumors.. and she'd just said it so blatantly, as if it weren't the most horrible accusation she could've hurled at him... she'd not even really hurled it, but it'd felt like a punch to the gut. Couldn't be easy... no, no it wasn't, it wasn't easy, and why would she ever even say that? If she knew how hard it was, why would she ever say it? Put that word out in the air, for anyone to hear, for anyone to spread the rumor, to completely and totally ruin his life! His palms began to sweat; what if his father heard? He could already feel the knives in his flesh, digging deep, wrenching pains that would never stop. Lysandar Tempest put up with nothing, accepted nothing. His son being gay would... Antony couldn't even begin to imagine how awful it would all be. His hand was tight on the glass, his knuckles white.

spaceHe stared ahead, his eyes hard. Her offer for help rang in his ears, hollow, useless. An empty promise made by someone who didn't know what they were even pretending to offer. "Help me... How could you help me? I... I have a daughter. I have an obligation to her. And if... if my father knew... if he knew..." Antony swallowed hard. "He would kill me, Belle," he said finally, his voice rasping, catching. The words he'd never dared to speak. Everything he'd ever feared being brought out into the light of day... she'd spilled one secret, and he'd shared the second. Years of weight on his shoulders suddenly felt a little lighter. The weight was still there, still pressing, but... he'd been honest about it for the first time. And maybe that helped, at least a little. Of course, both of them were likely too far gone for the memory to stick... he hoped that no one who would care to overhear it was sober enough to remember it. "I want... I want to take Persephone away, to find a way to be just the two of us, to be honest with myself... but he'd kill me, and she would be his. He would twist her, Belle, make her ugly like he is. I can't let that happen to her... she's everything perfect in the world. I can't let him corrupt her." His voice cracked, and a hand went to his eyes, rubbing as if to alleviate tension that would never go away. Until Lysandar was dead, Antony would forever be subject to his father's wills, would forever have to hide anything that would cause the man to remove the stain that was his son. And Antony had a feeling that Lysandar was going to live for a long, long time... evil like his never seemed to die young.

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♈ ♈ ♈ 'Traveled the world and the seven seas
Everybody's looking for something.' ♈ ♈ ♈

(( OOC: ))
...

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Essy ze Ninja

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[Essy ze Ninja]

So you wanna call me the devils' advocate
But you don't even know the half of it
I was raised to believe in miracles
My life is so cold




Annabelle Emery Rich
Blaze of Glory: Dueling Range Owner
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”Ah--” The words stangled in her throat, tangled behind the acid that threatened to rise like bile in her mouth. She pursed her lips together tight, to hold it all in. But it threatened to break and her fingers caught the hurl of words and vices before they slipped. She could see the distress in his eyes, but whether or not it was amplified by the liquor, she couldn’t guess. The tension thickened the atmosphere and drained every ounce of oxygen, every beaten breath thereafter felt constricted and suffocated. Her hand still pressed to her lips, she darted her vision over her shoulder, this way and that. No one had seemed to notice, and none dared to care.

”....How could I not?” She dared, eyes piercing into his. It stabbed her, sure and swift as any insult could but without the menace and purpose. It was offensive; the natural laws of human relations had always berated her. How could anyone dare to turn a blind eye? She couldn’t. She couldn’t imagine someone who would. So many wretched emotions harbored; she wanted to scream. But it all drained out in a simple little wisp of air, ripped out with a magnet. The fear felt so very real, she almost couldn’t, wouldn’t, believe it.

But it sat so indignantly, the apple bobbed in his throat with poison. It was a threat made all too real. A shaky breath racked her hollow lungs as she fluttered her eyes to the floor. It was something that only children spoke of, with paranoia and doubt, and the fear had always been so ever fleeting, but his had stayed. It never dwindled, never passed. She moved her fingers away from her lips and tucked a stray blonde lock behind her ear. ”Then don’t tell him... He never needs to know.” Her voice was cross. ”You deserve to be happy, Antony.”

She bit her lip and turned away. Was this even her place to say anything, what right did she have? Who did she think she was? I just want to help, the thought hit her dramatically and her stomach leapt up to her throat. She tried to brush it all away with a small, pitiful laugh. ”I know... this isn’t something you’d think you’d trust in a muggle bar, but, I would very much love to help her. I... I was her. I know... I know how much it hurts.” Bitterly, she kept the frown hidden at bay behind a tight lipped line.

”Y’know.... The only thing that hadn’t made it to the papers about... my fiance’s death... was... the fact that I was pregnant, and the baby didn’t make it.” She blinked. The ache worming inside of her heart. ”Like I said, dammit, you deserve to be happy. Everyone does... “


Location: Lucky Restaurant at the bar
Fashionably: Martini Dream
Details: Eighteen Years Old, 5’8”, Pureblood


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Cara MiaKitty

 

[MJ Spooks]

Antony is...spacespacespacespace
CURRENTLY // Looking Handsome at the Barspace
CURRENTLY // singlespaces
CURRENTLY WITH // No onespacesp
CURRENTLY FEELING // Tiredspacespa
CURRENTLY THINKING // 'One drink and a meal away from home won't kill me...' spacespac
♈ ♈ ♈ 'Sweet dreams are made of these
Who am I to disagree?' ♈ ♈ ♈
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spaceAntony walked into the restaurant and bar, his head down, his eyes dark. He'd been avoiding this place for a bit... he really couldn't say why. The conversation with Annabelle Rich had been upsetting, disturbing even, but... it'd been one conversation, after all. Honestly, he couldn't entirely remember why it had bothered him so much. The event was hazy, as it should be; when he'd awoken the next day, it'd been with a massive hangover. He hadn't taken a potion to make it go away; he never did. He had gone in to work, kept quiet, and let the pain remind him why drinking was such a bloody awful idea. Though, if he were honest, the hangover had nothing to do with that... he had the faintest idea that he and Belle had each let slip things that were better kept quiet. He considered it a blessing in disguise that he couldn't recall what they were. The former Slytherin sat at a table, deciding to have a bite as well. He'd stopped in for a drink, of course, but dinner wouldn't be a bad idea. He hated eating at home... especially lately. His grandparents were always quietly fuming, her father was colder than usual, and Callidora... he didn't know what that woman was about. She'd been home for a while now, and still felt like a complete stranger to him. Not that he'd tried to get to know her at all, but it was still strange that he could share a home with a person and know so little about her. He was convinced that she was hiding some secret, though. Not that he cared to discover it; he'd much rather keep his head down and his nose clean and out of any of their business.

spaceOnce again, the chasm that separated him from his family was apparent in his mind; he suddenly recalled what he's let slip to Belle... or what she'd discovered and he'd failed to deny. His jaw tightened. But, then, it didn't matter, did it? He rarely attended social functions, and she didn't seem inclined to attend any. Where would they run into one another? He was certain he had nothing to worry about... unless she frequented this place, too. It was why he'd avoided the place, to avoid her. But he didn't recall ever seeing her there before... surely she'd only stopped in out of a sense of adventure, a sudden notion? This was the one place he went where he felt safe from his family; he'd hate to give it up.

spaceHe gave the waiter a smile as the man came to take his drink order, and looked over the menu while he waited; he realized that he'd never actually eaten here before. He'd come in for drinks on the nights when he couldn't handle being at home, but never come in to dine. But he found the thought of sharing a table with his family loathsome, particularly so tonight, though he hadn't a clue as to why. Knowing that Persephone was safer with his father than he'd ever been, and that Ava would look out for her if it proved necessary, he didn't care to subject himself to such torture. Seph was young, sweet; innocent. She didn't see the darkness lurking in their family, was untouched by its taint. He didn't know how long she would stay that way... but for now, she was safe. Too young to see the evils. He hoped he could keep her that way long enough that she would grow above their pettiness. To have his family name carried into the light would be the greatest gift he could imagine.

═════════════════════════════════
♈ ♈ ♈ 'Traveled the world and the seven seas
Everybody's looking for something.' ♈ ♈ ♈

(( OOC: ))
...

show spoilerhide spoiler

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[Essy ze Ninja]

So you wanna call me the devils' advocate
But you don't even know the half of it
I was raised to believe in miracles
My life is so cold


Annabelle Emery Rich
Blaze of Glory: Dueling Range Owner
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Annabelle sauntered to the bar, not a word spoken and the man greeted her with the shake of his mixer and the pour of a drink. She had a dull little secret of dwelling like a creature of habit, crawling from one threshold to the next at precise hours of the day. She and the tender of this bar had long since signed their silent contract; dirty martinis with two olives and to keep ‘em coming. Of course they didn’t always see to eye to eye on her cut off limit, but he was nonmagical folk and she wasn’t going to try to refill her glass in this mundane muggle establishment. But it is tempting, she mused.

The haunt of Leo still played like a tired charade in her mind, but it brought the p***k of a smile to her lips almost ready to bleed. She toyed with the hem of leather trousers, eyes veering to the side as her thoughts raced heavy and hot. ”Mmmm,” she laughed. ”I can’t keep doing this.” Her words slurred utterly, but she spoke to herself so it hadn’t mattered. Or maybe that was worse? Rouge cheeks tightened as her smile deepened and she drowned her worries behind the liquor in her glass.

The familiar regal stance struck her notice; even if his shoulder did look slumped under the weight of his burdens. His air encumbered a sense of familiarity she couldn’t deny; it was aristocratic, it was magic. She shook the thought away as the corner of her peripherals caught him as he slid into a seat at a table in the dining area in solace. ”I’ll be over there,” she quickly motioned with the tilt of her head as she fingered her clutch purse for muggle currency and paid the tender, carrying her drink away with her.

Swift heels of her ankle boots crossed through the bar and into the lit dining room, she shuffled past a waiter and a tray of delights and stole a custard tart and napkin with a giggle before joining Antony at his table. ”Well fancy meetin’ you here again mate,” she smirked as she bit rather undaintily into the side of her stolen morsel. ”Care for a piece?” She offered, though its innards were scrambled like blood and guts on her napkin. ”Never thought I’d see you again here so soon, I’ve got an owl that hates me and a cat that thinks it’s a dog so I’ve been a bit troubled on how to try and find you—

“You didn’ think you were getting away that easy, did you?” Okay, maybe she sounded like a stalker, but clearly if she was, she was a very bad one. Or maybe she wasn’t, because she did find him here, didn’t she? She blinked and shook her head, pausing only to take another sip of her martini and then nibbled on her blackberry custard tart.


Location: Restaurant and Lucky Pub at a table
Fashionably: Set in Silver
Details: Nineteen, 5’8”, Pureblood


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Cara MiaKitty

 

[MJ Spooks]

Antony is...spacespacespacespace
CURRENTLY // Looking Handsome at the Barspace
CURRENTLY // singlespaces
CURRENTLY WITH // No onespacesp
CURRENTLY FEELING // Tiredspacespa
CURRENTLY THINKING // 'One drink and a meal away from home won't kill me...' spacespac
♈ ♈ ♈ 'Sweet dreams are made of these
Who am I to disagree?' ♈ ♈ ♈
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spaceAntony went stock-still when she joined him at the table... damn. He might have to give this place up after all. Perhaps there was some dirty little hole-in-the-wall place he could try next. Surely he'd never run into her in such a place... he glared as she offered her a bite of her stolen dessert, shaking his head. "No, thank you," he replied coldly, silently seething. Why was she bothering him? Why couldn't she just drop it? He was trapped, and as long as his father was alive, there was nothing he could do about it. He wanted what was best for his daughter, and right now, with no one to take care of her while he was away at work, he couldn't go and get himself disowned.

spaceFor a moment, he envied Belle; the majority of their previous conversation, including the one tidbit that would've told her why this was so damned important to her, was a blank slate in his mind, wiped clean by the alcohol. As she spoke of her wonder at finding him here again, and her failed efforts to track him down, he scowled. Honestly, no, he hadn't thought he was getting away that easily... but he'd hoped, dammit. With no clue as to how he could even hope to do better than this, another encounter with her wasn't exactly appealing. He sighed. "I don't know what you expect me to do. I'm trying to make the best of a bad situation. 'Best' being the keyword; if I could do any better, I would." What did she think? That he enjoyed having to live a lie? Unless she had some brilliant plan for a way out, he didn't know what she expected to accomplish by forcing him to 'deal' with his situation. He was already dealing with it, whether she thought so or not.

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♈ ♈ ♈ 'Traveled the world and the seven seas
Everybody's looking for something.' ♈ ♈ ♈

(( OOC: ))
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[Essy ze Ninja]

So you wanna call me the devils' advocate
But you don't even know the half of it
I was raised to believe in miracles
My life is so cold


Annabelle Emery Rich
Blaze of Glory: Dueling Range Owner
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His stoicism was predictable, but it still caught her off guard. Her flushed features blinked twice and no more; she saw a gargoyle chiseled to stone. He’d hardly seemed to flinch, and while she had busied her fingers and tongue with the sweet and tangy juices of her tart she had kept her eyes trained. He seemed distant; perhaps it was because he was sober? She was sure she could feel herself tipping too far to one edge of her seat and righted herself with a slick stretch of her arms, adjusting into a new position that encompassed around her martini glass. ”Hmmm,” she hummed, and almost thoughtfully so. Almost, almost as if she was considering his feelings…. But only almost.

”I don’t believe you,” Belle’s slow smile came to a crawl on her lips. She leaned her chin on her fingers; the large silver butterfly ring on her finger stole the light with a glint. Her tone was so absolute and matter-of-fact, but that could have just been the alcohol swelling with pride. ”If there was a way, would you take it?” She dared, nostrils flared while she waited for the thoughts to cement in his mind.

”Because that waiter’s been fancying you since the moment you got here,” the nodded gesture was subtly directed towards a man several tables away, an identical mirror amidst his coworkers. She didn’t know him, per say, but she knew he’d never take a second glance at her—and maybe it was out of spite—but she would always return in kind. Still, she was a woman, and dammit, she was a jealous little thing at that. So of course she noticed.

But before she’d let Antony protest, she had to at least try. ”I mean, c’mon mate, what’s the harm if you do it just once? Just to have fun? Just to try?”



Location: Restaurant and Lucky Pub at a table
Fashionably: Set in Silver
Details: Nineteen, 5’8”, Pureblood


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Cara MiaKitty

 

[MJ Spooks]

Antony is...spacespacespacespace
CURRENTLY // Looking Handsome at the Barspace
CURRENTLY // singlespaces
CURRENTLY WITH // No onespacesp
CURRENTLY FEELING // Tiredspacespa
CURRENTLY THINKING // 'One drink and a meal away from home won't kill me...' spacespac
♈ ♈ ♈ 'Sweet dreams are made of these
Who am I to disagree?' ♈ ♈ ♈
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spaceAntony ground his teeth. Why was she being so damned nosy? As bad as his grandmother... although at least she seemed to inclined to help him out, as opposed to wanting to just listen and mock like Lenore. He was about to argue about the chances of there being a way out when she inclined her head towards the waiter in question. He flushed, barely, but enough to see it. He wasn't sure he believed her... but he had been eyeing that very waiter earlier. The man was quite handsome... after a moment, he glared. "How, exactly, is that a way out?" he asked, his expression clearly skeptical. He didn't see how an attractive waiter at a muggle bar was a solution to anything. If nothing else, he was a problem. "I"m not sure what your family is like, but mine... doesn't think too highly of muggles. I could care less, but they... I seriously fail to see how he represents any sort of solution." His fingers rapped on the tabletop. Just once... just to have fun. It was oh, so tempting... which he was sure she was well aware of. But, he wasn't destined to give in to temptation. The negative repercussions should he do so were too numerous and far too dangerous. His father finding out he was gay would end in torture... gay and inclined to muggles? He'd be dead, and his grandfather would be the one raising Persephone. So far, he done so well at keeping her mind unpoisoned by his father's evil and his family's pride. He didn't want to risk that...

spaceStill, the temptation stood. He made eye contact with the other man for a brief second, and turned back a bit too quickly, scowling. This was ridiculous. He was a grown man, dammit, he had duties and responsibilities and he couldn't sit here and act like some teenager with a crush... even if he did admit to having on on the waiter (who, he'd be honest just this once, he'd noticed a long time ago and had in fact returned here to ogle on more than one occasion), there was nothing he could do about it. It just... wasn't in the cards. "Look, I appreciate your... attempts to help," he said, hesitating for a moment and unable to call her meddling actual help, "but... I just... can't." He sighed, a hand going to his forehead, raking through his hair. What's the harm, she asked? Everything. Because if he let himself be happy for even a second, he was afraid of what it would be like to have to go back.

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♈ ♈ ♈ 'Traveled the world and the seven seas
Everybody's looking for something.' ♈ ♈ ♈

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Essy ze Ninja

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[Essy ze Ninja]

So you wanna call me the devils' advocate
But you don't even know the half of it
I was raised to believe in miracles
My life is so cold


Annabelle Emery Rich
Blaze of Glory: Dueling Range Owner
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For those first initial moments, she was distracted, and maybe it was because she knew he had to process every little detail and scenario—because really, he seemed to be one of those types—she waited. She stole a napkin from its ring; the silverware clattered gently on the table and wiped her fingers clean. By the time his glare had ensnared her attention, she offered a sheepish little smile. She couldn’t help but wonder what was firing off in that mind of his; ridicule or insult, she knew she’d never know. ”Oh, my father would kill the man and if I wasn’t his only child, he’d do away with me too.” She giggled; her voice was like a breeze in the garden. But there was a certain malicious truth hidden just beneath the surface. The sound of his fingers rapped, it made her ears twitch from the sound. Belle leaned back in her chair slowly, daring to contemplate if this really was the right decision. Or would she just be damning him?

Her family, though, was small (or at least of the Rich line.) Her father was negligent, but that was because she was young woman forced to live inside of a man’s world. She could only assume that he hadn’t been so easily forgotten as she was. But still…Then her eyes flashed and she parted her lips to speak, but he’d already beaten her to punch. It was like he knew she was going to try and start up again. ”I…I know it’s not easy, Antony. Anything worth having never is. But…” She paused to chew on her lip, blindly trying to find the perfect words. ”…Think about it this way, you’ve already proven to him, to them, to everyone, that you’re a capable, responsible,” Belle, unable to contain herself in her tipsy stupor, influenced a fake posh attitude, ”—upstanding perfect wizard.” She smiled softly, her tone sincere now. ”He has no reason to go looking, right? No reason to ever suspect a thing? So why not just once?”

“What if I ask him? Will you do it then? If he says no…Then fine, you win, and I’ll leave you alone….But if he says yes…” She batted a coy look. ”Will you go?”


Location: Restaurant and Lucky Pub at a table
Fashionably: Set in Silver
Details: Nineteen, 5’8”, Pureblood


╚══════════════════▄▀▄▀▄▄▀▄▀▄════╝

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Cara MiaKitty

 

[MJ Spooks]

Antony is...spacespacespacespace
CURRENTLY // Looking Handsome at the Barspace
CURRENTLY // singlespaces
CURRENTLY WITH // No onespacesp
CURRENTLY FEELING // Tiredspacespa
CURRENTLY THINKING // 'One drink and a meal away from home won't kill me...' spacespac
♈ ♈ ♈ 'Sweet dreams are made of these
Who am I to disagree?' ♈ ♈ ♈
═════════════════════════════════

spaceAntony frowned. So, she understood, and yet she would still try to convince him that it was worth the risk? His family would have no such issue with punishing him for it; Lysandar was old enough to have another son, and they were already grooming Persephone (although truth be told they'd prefer for him to remarry and birth a son). He liked to tell himself that one day, his grandparents would be dead, and his father, too, and he'd be the head of the family and could stop worrying about all this nonsense... but it seemed unlikely. Edgar and Lenore seemed intent on outliving all their peers, and Lysandar... Antony couldn't see him ever dying, to be honest. The man was such a concentrated ball of malicious intent, surely no higher power would ever kill him and release that upon the world? At least so long as it lived inside him, it could only spread as far as he could. And he hadn't gotten around to murdering, at least as far as Antony knew (although his father was probably clever enough to keep it quiet), so perhaps it could be worse.

spaceBefore he could speak, though, she continued, and he had to admit, at least to himself... she made a good point. His father had long since stopped watching where he was going (had that not been the case, he wouldn't have been able to frequent this bar, after all), and his grandparents were fully convinced they had him properly crushed under their heels. Lenore thought he was spineless, Edgar thought he was too quiet... and Lysandar had stopped worrying about any rebellion from him the day Persephone had been born, knowing he would never risk leaving his daughter alone with him. Long fingers tapped the table, and he glanced at the man in question. He was handsome... blonde, with warm brown eyes and an easy smile. Antony had always wondered what it would be like, to have a relationship he wanted. To go on a date he was excited about. To... his mind traveled down a darker, more private path for a moment, and then he gave his head a light shake, cheeks flushing. He would... he would like to know. He looked back at Belle, deliberating with himself. What were the chances that the man would say yes, anyway? Before he could change his mind, he offered her a shaky smile. "... Okay. I'll play. If... if you convince him... to have dinner with me. I'll go." He felt himself tense up, feeling rather like he'd made a deal with the devil. But, then, Belle couldn't be the devil... he was pretty sure that was his father.

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♈ ♈ ♈ 'Traveled the world and the seven seas
Everybody's looking for something.' ♈ ♈ ♈

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Essy ze Ninja

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[Essy ze Ninja]

So you wanna call me the devils' advocate
But you don't even know the half of it
I was raised to believe in miracles
My life is so cold


Annabelle Emery Rich
Blaze of Glory: Dueling Range Owner
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She could see the contempt, could almost hear him wailing in her own ears. ’Oh how irresponsible, how selfish,’ the abuse went on unfiltered. But it was all in her head; it was always just all in her head making mountains out of molehill. It was just so very like her that it made her brows perk with dramatics. In a sort of sassy sway, she tossed her eyes in a roll away and then fingered the empty stem of her crystal glass. A little black plastic sword was stabbed into an olive until it was plucked from her fingers and then all that was left was the piece of plastic. The silence had disheartened her, or maybe it was the way he almost reminded her of Devin in these passing moments and how’d she all but thrown it away.

But this isn’t about me, she had to remind herself. This is bigger than me—the world doesn’t revolve around me—although it should, because really, she mused, trying to focus her attention but it was hard not to toot her own horn when she was staring at her own reflection. She tried to level her gaze to somehow look imposing that, in any way, might influence his thoughts, but really, she was just trying to seem attentive. He’s probably not even paying attention to me, just all the ways he can say no and run out the door like every other man in my life. She tried not to laugh. Okay, stop playing the over-dramatics, Belle, no one’s paying attention anyway. So she mentally sighed and then readjusted her legs to cross them at her ankles. Maybe the more she moved the more she’d try to look patient? But finally, and at long last, he agreed.

HA! She nearly jumped. Not even the gays can deny me, she straightened her posture, feathers ruffled oh so proudly. It was all she could do not to wiggle in her seat like a dog wagging its tail. ”Ah, perfect, you’ll be thanking me later, trust me.” She gushed and flashed a coy wink. After all, what was the worst that could happen? He’d say no, and she’d lose, or he’d say yes and they’d both win. In her eyes, it was a fixed game with no way to lose. She inched to the edge of her seat, eyes prominent and hunting, but she—oh who is she kidding—Antony had long since caught the attention of the comely waiter who’d already spiraled in their direction around the maze of other booths and tables. The flutter of her eyelashes never skipped a beat; it was instinct, but pointless. ”I’ll take another dirty martini, but my friend here,” she paused to wave a distinguished hand towards her companion, and then it was all eyes on him. ”Is Antony. He’s a little shy, new around here… I was wondering…” Belle let the smile widen almost sickeningly, and then, well…She didn’t really know what she was saying. She was just rambling now; she knew it, Antony had to have known it, and the waiter was probably guessing it by the way he glanced at her like a mongoose to a serpent. Regardless, she kept on until she heard those divine words, the ones that meant she’d won. (Or lost, but… Either way…)


Location: Restaurant and Lucky Pub at a table
Fashionably: Set in Silver
Details: Nineteen, 5’8”, Pureblood


╚══════════════════▄▀▄▀▄▄▀▄▀▄════╝

show spoilerhide spoiler

Cara MiaKitty

 

[MJ Spooks]

Antony is...spacespacespacespace
CURRENTLY // Looking Handsome at the Barspace
CURRENTLY // singlespaces
CURRENTLY WITH // No onespacesp
CURRENTLY FEELING // Tiredspacespa
CURRENTLY THINKING // 'One drink and a meal away from home won't kill me...' spacespac
♈ ♈ ♈ 'Sweet dreams are made of these
Who am I to disagree?' ♈ ♈ ♈
═════════════════════════════════

spaceAntony watched through hooded eyes as Belle spoke to the man. He was completely convinced that this was going nowhere fast... until he saw the look. As she gave his name, the waiter's eyes lit up, a small smirk appearing on his face, eyes oh-so subtly looking him up and down. He barely contained the urge to return that smirk, offering instead a polite smile. He tried to feel annoyed that she'd been right, that he was obviously going to say yes (although, whether or not that was because he was actually interested, or recognized the moneyed look Antony couldn't seem to help but give off was yet to be determined), but he couldn't manage it. The man was attractive. He was going to say yes... and it was just one date, after all. One date... an experiment. It didn't have to be more than that. Wouldn't ever be more than that. A single night. After all... didn't he deserve at least that? Generally, he tried to avoid thinking of what he may or may not be owed by the world, figuring that asking for one's due was a slippery slope at best. But, taking something for himself, just this one time, couldn't end too horribly, right? It would be fine.

spaceFiguring that the man had looked his fill, and obviously already made up his mind, her wove his fingers together, setting his chin the the cradle, offering a flirtatious grin. Once his mind was made up, it was made up, after all. He'd decided to do this, so he might as well go all out. Years of empty flirtations with every pretty face that approached him at those God-awful parties he'd had to attend his entire life had prepared him well for this moment. He didn't think he'd ever bothered to bat his eyes at anyone he cared to continue a conversation with, actually. But, there was a first time for everything. It was just a pity that it would probably also be the last. "She's quite awful, isn't she?" he murmured, shooting her what was quite possibly the nicest glare he'd given her to date. "But, then, it's not really her fault. She's used to getting her way. Incidentally, in this case, her way would mean that you would accompany me to dinner... next week, perhaps?" he asked, already seeing the yes in the man's eyes. Well... that had been surprisingly easy. A short conversation, a couple of winks (both from the waiter, whose name, he discovered, was Lionel), and they had a date for the next Saturday night. Dinner for two at a nearby restaurant (which Antony was sure would prove to be quite expensive, since he'd already made it clear that he was paying), followed by drinks, the mention of which had been followed by a very suggestive wink from Lionel. Antony tried not to look flustered at the thought. The waiter wouldn't see it, but Belle would. Hard to miss, that, if you were the sort who were used to it, which she certainly was. As the man walked away, bragging to one of his coworkers that he'd 'hooked the hottie,' Antony sighed, turning to Belle. "You win," he told her, shaking his head, barely containing the urge to smile. The corners of his mouth did quirk up a bit, but it might as well have been a clown's painted red grin for how unusual it felt. He was sure it looked equally out of place; after all, other than with his daughter, he couldn't recall the last time he'd smiled out of a simple need to express happiness.

═════════════════════════════════
♈ ♈ ♈ 'Traveled the world and the seven seas
Everybody's looking for something.' ♈ ♈ ♈

(( OOC: ))
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Essy ze Ninja

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