Edward looked over, from reading the leaf inside one of the top books, toward the angel. If not surprised in the presence -- if he could not ignore sound, he really could not ignore the people who's presence was impossible to hear but not to feel, that almost hurt to focus toward -- he might be in the assumption that it registered with.
The edge of his lips twitched. "Those are for Alice. We're stocking a room here."
Bonzo waves to Edward as he notices said vampire sitting in the Bar. He notices the pile of papers (but not their contents) as he heads over to Edward's seat.
Tired. If he could be tired. Tense. From letting her walk away. Relieved. She's not in the hospital.
He nodded, just enough side to side. As though to say, he was doing mostly alright. "Mail call," he added, as though explaining in the same way, to start and to answer in one.
The question she means and the one it sounds like. They're different to him, but he choose the first. The obvious. The one it doesn't need, before the other.
Edward manages something of a straight face, that somehow looks like it almost casts toward a beleaguered smirk without any shifted features when he finally looks up from reading the leaf of a book toward her.
Jack slices his sword sideways through the smoke and back again as he staggers across the floor, rubbing at his streaming eyes and smudging the kohl that lines them.
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It didn't have to fly far. He is standing quite close to Edward's table.
He picks the paper up, studying it with interest.
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With truly astronomic prices. Even by Earth's standing.
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His interest is piqued.
Castiel is prone to projects himself.
Even if he does not have much luck with paint.
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The edge of his lips twitched. "Those are for Alice. We're stocking a room here."
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"Ho, Edward."
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"Bonzo."
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And what're all of those papers on the table?
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Tense. From letting her walk away.
Relieved. She's not in the hospital.
He nodded, just enough side to side. As though to say, he was doing mostly alright. "Mail call," he added, as though explaining in the same way, to start and to answer in one.
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Her footsteps are silent, her mind -- not quite.
"You are working."
It's a careful observation, and maybe a little bit of a question, too.
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There's a blase shrug more graceful than dancers could learn.
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X considers that.
Carefully.
"Why?"
It looks like work to her. Blame the floor plans.
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"I've been gone a while."
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Duck retrieves one of the falling pieces of paper and hands it over to him, helpfully.
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He took the paper. "Thank you, Duck."
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Duck shifts her weight from foot to foot, beaming. "So, uh . . . you look like you're doing a lotta work, huh!"
Stating the obvious: one of Duck's many skills!
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There's an air of distaste to that by itself. Paperwork.
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Is that... is that a pirate in a cloud of smoke?
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*cough, choke*
"Come out here, you cowardly--"
*wheeze, wheeze, cough*
"--maggot-eared yeasty..."
Jack slices his sword sideways through the smoke and back again as he staggers across the floor, rubbing at his streaming eyes and smudging the kohl that lines them.
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"You keep repeating that."
There is a shadow off...that way?
"I don't think you know what it means."
Leo snatches Jack's hat from his head, and once more in to the breach, dear friends!
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