( though she smiles the warmth that would normally be found in such a smile isn't there, it being simply polite. though she does give a nod to the bartender who's hovering nearby, accepting the glass from him and sliding it towards tommy.
despite the fact that they're still being watched lilith appears completely oblivious to it as if she hasn't noticed. she has, she often draws attention where she goes, either for her appearance or how she carries herself but rather than be disturbed by it she lets it fuel her, drawing power from the appreciation (and fear) )
We do have an appointment after all.
( she lifts the glass to drink when it's slid back, an act as if they're old acquaintances sharing a drink, or regular business rather than the strangers that they are )
[the stares persist. even the bartender, harry, glances anxiously between them. harry's seen too much from behind the bar to think that any good can come from this association. there are men in this pub who'd say they don't believe in witches, but the sight of lilith and the fact that tommy takes her seriously will be enough to give them pause.]
We do, at that.
[he won't bother trying to reciprocate a smile he can tell she doesn't mean. he barely ever smiles. nonetheless, he's generous with the measure he pours for her. she could have asked the bartender for something else, but it feels more friendly to share. he knocks his own glass back in time with her. if they're quick to get past being strangers, he won't complain. he'd prefer to know her, at least a little.
setting his glass down empty, he clears his throat and takes a drag of his cigarette.]
And your timing couldn't be better.
[she knows how well she did without being told. he just says so to let her know he's thinking about it. if she'd arrived earlier, he would have been in his office at the betting shop. later and his brothers would've joined him at the pub and they'd have lost their chance to meet alone.
he pushes off from the aureate surface of the bar, stepping back and gesturing toward the snug. inside, there's a larger, cleaner table for them to sit around and a door to close behind them. for their purposes, it's almost like a confessional. if they still want the whiskey, harry will bring it in to them.]
( it's only as he moves that lilith looks around the bar, meeting the gaze of a few of them as if letting them know she's caught them.
but it's brief, enough to make a few of them sheepishly turn away before lilith slides from her stool, following tommy, the size of the snug mattering little to her )
[there's lingering cigarette smoke in the air in here, as well as old whiskey, and the earthy notes of a thousand spilled pints. he shuts the door on the rest of the pub, but wood and glass only do so much to muffle the sound seeping in from the other side.
tommy indicates with another loose hand gesture that lilith should make herself comfortable in the snug, but eases into a seat himself without waiting. he'd abandoned his last cigarette with the empty glass at the bar, and now reaches for the inner pocket of his suit jacket to set up for another one. with a measure of indifference, he unloads a cigarette case and a box of matches on the table. he doesn't do anything with them yet, they're just there in preparation.
his seated posture makes no secret of the fact he's wearing a gun holster. the webley revolver tucked inside was his service weapon.
his tone's mild, feeling he can best answer madam wardwell's question with a question.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
no subject
( though she smiles the warmth that would normally be found in such a smile isn't there, it being simply polite. though she does give a nod to the bartender who's hovering nearby, accepting the glass from him and sliding it towards tommy.
despite the fact that they're still being watched lilith appears completely oblivious to it as if she hasn't noticed. she has, she often draws attention where she goes, either for her appearance or how she carries herself but rather than be disturbed by it she lets it fuel her, drawing power from the appreciation (and fear) )
We do have an appointment after all.
( she lifts the glass to drink when it's slid back, an act as if they're old acquaintances sharing a drink, or regular business rather than the strangers that they are )
no subject
We do, at that.
[he won't bother trying to reciprocate a smile he can tell she doesn't mean. he barely ever smiles. nonetheless, he's generous with the measure he pours for her. she could have asked the bartender for something else, but it feels more friendly to share. he knocks his own glass back in time with her. if they're quick to get past being strangers, he won't complain. he'd prefer to know her, at least a little.
setting his glass down empty, he clears his throat and takes a drag of his cigarette.]
And your timing couldn't be better.
[she knows how well she did without being told. he just says so to let her know he's thinking about it. if she'd arrived earlier, he would have been in his office at the betting shop. later and his brothers would've joined him at the pub and they'd have lost their chance to meet alone.
he pushes off from the aureate surface of the bar, stepping back and gesturing toward the snug. inside, there's a larger, cleaner table for them to sit around and a door to close behind them. for their purposes, it's almost like a confessional. if they still want the whiskey, harry will bring it in to them.]
This way, when you're ready.
no subject
but it's brief, enough to make a few of them sheepishly turn away before lilith slides from her stool, following tommy, the size of the snug mattering little to her )
I assume you have something specific in mind.
( to start their business )
no subject
tommy indicates with another loose hand gesture that lilith should make herself comfortable in the snug, but eases into a seat himself without waiting. he'd abandoned his last cigarette with the empty glass at the bar, and now reaches for the inner pocket of his suit jacket to set up for another one. with a measure of indifference, he unloads a cigarette case and a box of matches on the table. he doesn't do anything with them yet, they're just there in preparation.
his seated posture makes no secret of the fact he's wearing a gun holster. the webley revolver tucked inside was his service weapon.
his tone's mild, feeling he can best answer madam wardwell's question with a question.]
Do you believe in curses?