[Late November, closed to Eames and Reynard]

[smugfox]

This place wasn't exactly what Reynard would have picked, but he didn't really mind either. The good thing about the current fashion was that he could walk in just about anywhere, even with worn jeans, old boots and nothing but a simple shirt under a very used leather jacket and not even raise an eyebrow. Someone had actually asked him where he'd bought the leather jacket a day or two ago. He hadn't really been able to give a satisfying answer, since he had stolen it, but it very much confirmed that right now looking like fashion didn't matter was in fashion.

Even in a relatively high-class bar like this.

He had known Eames for years, but that wasn't really saying much. Once one got to his age, it was easy to know a lot of people by a number of years. However, he had never to his knowledge offended Eames, which was something that did get increasingly rarer the longer he knew someone, especially if they were fae. Maybe it was just because he'd never before had reason to pay much attention to him, but things were clearly different now. Reynard was new in town and already things were happening that he would like to know more about. Also, that aside, what could he say? Eames was attractive, now that he took time to notice it.

So it was with a smile that he sat down across from the man, giving him a quick once-over. "I can't decide if you looked better with blood all over you. Show me your profile, I'll try to make up my mind."

Comments

[falsify]

Eames doesn't know if he'd go so far as to say he likes Reynard, but he certainly has time for the man. They're similar enough that his company is enjoyable, and different enough that he doesn't get bored. And after the time he's had recently, Eames could certainly use some enjoyable company.

He laughs and turns his head obligingly. It's a good profile in his estimation, Eames is a pretty big fan. Eyebrow raised as he looks at Reynard, though he doesn't turn his head just yet, always a fan of being appreciated. "Satisfied? Or should I strike a different pose for you to assess?"

[smugfox]

"Now that you mention it, I can think of a few different poses." Reynard could really make quite obvious just what he was thinking with a smile on his lips, not that it was that difficult to guess. "But I reckon they can wait until later."

Openly showing reluctance - flattery could happen on so many levels - Reynard tore his gaze away to look around the joint instead. "Are you paying or am I going to have to find money somewhere?" Which he could do, he'd just have to know. Although improvisation had its own appeal.

"You're not still injured, are you? Because I could help you lick your wounds."

[falsify]

"You know, I feel fine. But a having a second pair of eyes look me over mightn't hurt." Eames waves over a waiter and points out a couple of things off the drinks menu as he speaks - of course he's paying, he'd hardly expect Reynard to turn up with the cash for a place like this. Well strictly speaking, a Mr. D Francis is paying, it's the least he could do for inconveniencing Eames at the bank earlier, but that's all semantic.

Once the waiter's gone, he leans forward, propping an arm on the table, "though I don't know if I trust that tongue of yours. Who knows where it's been?"

[smugfox]

"I do." Obviously. But Reynard smiled and offered a shrug. "Trust is a very peculiar concept. You can trust me with one thing for sure and that would be me being myself. Always am." To a fault, very much to a fault. "And seeing as I know myself very well, I can assure that if you are wondering if you can trust my tongue to improve how you feel should that be what I intend to do, then you really needn't worry. It hasn't left me hanging yet."

His smile was about as lecherous as the topic demanded, but it vanished quickly when he changed the topic, "Who do you hate the most in this town?"

Reynard pulled one foot up to rest over his thigh. Really he just wanted to get his feet up on the furniture already, but he didn't want to get kicked out this early in the evening.

[falsify]

Well he'd very much like to focus on the previous topic a bit longer, but Eames follows the subject change smoothly. He raises an eyebrow, smirking a little as though he's been asked something entirely scandalous. "So quick to the chase, Reynard," Eames' tone is both admonishing and playful, "why would you ask such a probing question before I've even had a drink?"

[smugfox]

"I don't know, sweetness, you just look as if you could take a hard probing." Speaking of scandalous. Reynard lifted a hand to rake it through his hair, his fingers curling in a little as he did so. He never took his eyes off Eames, but everything apart from that focus seemed very nonchalant. "I just got into town. I'm feeling restless, but I have no goals yet. You're my friend, are you not? Fair and kind and oh so clever, how wrong could it be to share your goals for a while?"

[falsify]

"Like a champion. But you have to work up to it first."

'For a while.' That's the fox in a nutshell, he supposes. Loyal until he's not; it's something he and Eames have in common, and thus something Eames knows well to be wary of. Just as well as he knows he's been stressed enough as of late that he may let something slip if he's not careful. He regards the server with a friendly smile when the drinks arrive and takes a sip before he answers, "no goals? That doesn't sound at all like you."

[smugfox]

"As it has always been, my goal is to live well and enjoy myself, which usually means enjoying others, one way or the other." That smile accompanying the statement made it ever so clear just what he meant by 'the other' and Eames at least should know him well enough to be able to guess what the first way was as well.

"However, where more concrete goals are concerned..." Reynard trained off for a moment, pulling his glass closer to him and turning it in his hand. "I do want to show you that none of the promises I'll continue to make as the evening goes on are empty."

[falsify]

It's a lot of talk that amounts to essentially nothing, which isn't exactly unexpected when it comes to Reynard. The man's interest in him is noted, appreciated, and reciprocated - he is quite attractive after all, Eames isn't blind - but if he's ever met a person he could trust less, they certainly don't come to mind. Reynard's self-interest makes him frustratingly difficult to predict.

"And what is it you want in exchange for your promises?" Eames smiles, tone a little playful as he takes a sip of his drink, "you want to know who I hate? Because hatred isn't a feeling I tend to keep hold of. It makes things... Messy."

[smugfox]

"See, there's one area where we differ." Oh, his smile was ever so wide, but sharp as his teeth were, they were also white and well worth showing off. No point in hiding them all the time. "Me? I love a good mess. Love, hate, rage, that's what is sure to leave the biggest ones behind."

That speciality of his had also ensured that there were quite a lot of fae in either court that would just love to leave him behind a mess as well. A bloody one at that. But Eames knew that, so why should he pretend differently? It wouldn't keep someone like Eames from taking a risk. Quite the opposite, if Reynard was any judge, and he rather fancied himself to be one.

"But those preferences aside, sweetness, there's so many things happening in town. Vampires and witches against fae? And of course I find you in the middle. I'm curious. Why not indulge me, I do need direction."

[falsify]

Reynard could be useful, for a time. Until he decides not to be. Eames raises an eyebrow, considering this - he knows he'll regret it if he gives up too much information, and it's a delicate situation that Eames has a lot of strong feelings about. It'd be easier to slip up than he's entirely comfortable with.

But nothing ventured, eh? He can't expect an outcast to have any interest in helping the courts, but the chaos in the interim? Surely Reynard will enjoy kicking up a little mayhem, making the mortal authorities worried?

"They want us out of the city, and I'd rather that not happen." He lifts a shoulder in a shrug, entirely nonchalant. "It's a very simple situation."

[smugfox]

"It's a nice city, I wouldn't want you leaving it so soon." That was all Reynard said at first, the rest went unspoken. He lifted his glass to take a sip, then put it back down. Fingers idly turned it in his hand, the liquid sloshing around. "Who are the factions and their leaders that are giving you such trouble, my friend?"

What he'd end up doing, he didn't even know himself yet. But he definitely wanted to know more about what he could be doing to whom and why. Eames could be a very useful fount of information, if only he could get him to trust him halfway as far as he could throw him.

[falsify]

"Daybreak, the Council... Islington." He says with a casual indifference as he swills his glass, save the note of disgust when he mentions the vampires, but that should hardly be unexpected. "Good Witch Redbright thinks she knows what's best for the... Magical community, here in London. And likely everywhere else."

Eames sighs, taking a drink to wash down the bad taste thinking about Sylvia always puts in his mouth. They should've done something about her before she rose to her seat to power - it would've been so simple, if only someone had known what a problem she'd be. He looks Reynard over, glancing at his face to see how he's taking in all the information, "stamping out 'dark magic,' purging our influence. That sort of thing."