[Tyki/Cross] Private thread~
Cross Marian, genius that he is, after much careful planning had managed to escape the new Black Order headquaters. Even if it was just for a few hours. It's a friday night and he doesn't intend to spend it stuck in his room drinking the swill the order have been trying to pass off as wine. He's sure Komui will kill him when he gets back and he does intend to go back, unfortunately, too much stuff that requires his sheer awesome presence. Maria has been safely hidden in the store room of a pub, thanks to a bar tender who owes him a favour, he'll collect her and get back tomorrow morning. He's sick of all the drama, Levellier can take a hike as far as he's concerned, he doesn't scare Cross. It's partially out of his hatred of the sleezey git that he's snuck out, that and he'd been getting a spot of cabin fever. Cross liked to travel, staying in the same place for too long became boring, the thrill of the unknown was what Cross liked, he'd prefer to be out in the field shooting akuma and wasting Noah. But as it was, that wasn't an option.
He makes his way down the street to one of his favourite bars in london, The Royal, it's posh, it's exspensive and stocks his favourite wine, 'Romanee Conti'. It's perfect. The decor certainly lives up to Cross' taste. Creams and golds, the tables are dark varnished woods with silk upholstered chairs, there are several pieces of art on the walls, depicting beautiful scenes from british history. The lighting is low, tasteful, the glittering of the crystal chandeliers illuminating the room just right. The dark mahogany bar stretches across the back wall with an array of the finest wines from around the world. It's quiet, but thats not because it isn't popular, it's because the patrons are of higher class and taste.
Cross walks in with his customary swagger, fitting in just perfectly with the other drinkers. His entrance turns the heads of both males and females. Cross has no preference when it comes to male or female, he prefers to think of himself as a sexual omnivore, he'll try anything with anyone, sex is sex. He cuts quite the figure in a crowd, with his tall lean frame and his flaming red hair coupled with the fact he's wearing his customary long frock coat, silk shirt with the ruffled sleeves and neckline. His long legs are encased in tight fitting black trousers, Judgement is tucked safely in it's holster, concealed by the folds of black fabric. Around his neck is his shining gold rosary and his mask has been cleaned and restored to it's pristine white self.
Smirking happily he heads over to the bar, ordering a glass of 'Chateau Leoville' to start the evening off. He sits on one of the high bar stools, also silk unholstered, one booted foot placed on the floor and the other bent at the knee and resting on the gold strip round the edge of the bar. As he sips his drink his eyes falls upon a figure at the bar, whose tanned skin and long black hair make him stand out from the other drinkers. He recognises the face but this new look makes him wonder. Instead of approaching the man he simply looks at him from beneath his eye lashes in interest, he's subtle.
What on earth is a Noah doing in a place like this? Just when Cross started to think this place had class...
[Private to mypainurthrill]
He makes his way down the street to one of his favourite bars in london, The Royal, it's posh, it's exspensive and stocks his favourite wine, 'Romanee Conti'. It's perfect. The decor certainly lives up to Cross' taste. Creams and golds, the tables are dark varnished woods with silk upholstered chairs, there are several pieces of art on the walls, depicting beautiful scenes from british history. The lighting is low, tasteful, the glittering of the crystal chandeliers illuminating the room just right. The dark mahogany bar stretches across the back wall with an array of the finest wines from around the world. It's quiet, but thats not because it isn't popular, it's because the patrons are of higher class and taste.
Cross walks in with his customary swagger, fitting in just perfectly with the other drinkers. His entrance turns the heads of both males and females. Cross has no preference when it comes to male or female, he prefers to think of himself as a sexual omnivore, he'll try anything with anyone, sex is sex. He cuts quite the figure in a crowd, with his tall lean frame and his flaming red hair coupled with the fact he's wearing his customary long frock coat, silk shirt with the ruffled sleeves and neckline. His long legs are encased in tight fitting black trousers, Judgement is tucked safely in it's holster, concealed by the folds of black fabric. Around his neck is his shining gold rosary and his mask has been cleaned and restored to it's pristine white self.
Smirking happily he heads over to the bar, ordering a glass of 'Chateau Leoville' to start the evening off. He sits on one of the high bar stools, also silk unholstered, one booted foot placed on the floor and the other bent at the knee and resting on the gold strip round the edge of the bar. As he sips his drink his eyes falls upon a figure at the bar, whose tanned skin and long black hair make him stand out from the other drinkers. He recognises the face but this new look makes him wonder. Instead of approaching the man he simply looks at him from beneath his eye lashes in interest, he's subtle.
What on earth is a Noah doing in a place like this? Just when Cross started to think this place had class...
[Private to mypainurthrill]