Pretty Little Things

“The hiking parts are nice, but they tend to drag a big long.” He straightened a fold on his clothes. “Find people probably beats wearing holes in your shoes to put holes in strangers.” He winced heavily at the unintended slight. Street workers and street walkers weren't quite the same thing in his head, but the fine lines were clearly lost in the margins. It occurred to him now that even if he didn't call her a whore outright, he certainly called her a burgler. He just blinked and shook his head for a moment before stammering, “I, I didn't. I don't have it in me.” Her proximity to him made the slight all the more unavoidable and he just flushed red and pivotted away. He had to sleep and get prepared

The white marble of the front facade of the hall they walked toward shined sunset burnt orange right into his eyes and squinted beneath his mask, trying to avoid the impulse to put a hand in his face. He strode up the carpet padded stone steps into the hall proper, handing off his pass to the poleaxe armed guard at the door and stepped into the massively high roofed hall and stood among the pillars staring at the crowd. He was a crowd of unfamiliar faces with more filtering in, The musicians were still tuning their instruments in the corner, the stage only partially set up. He let his eyes unfocus a moment, letting the room dissolve to starburst of orange light against a tan and grey background. He still had no idea how to find his target.

“Alright Mrs. Barclay, how about we mingle for a while, then meet up afterwords.” he smiled slightly under his mask, even if he didn't find anything of note, he could listen to music and eat random things on trays and call it a wash. “Let's remind these good people about the charms they are missing out from dreary old Ansburg” he tiled his head toward Esme and walked over to one of the table spreads. Might as well start early.