[open] bright as the day fresh as the moon and stale as the hay

[iustitiae]

i - @ the supermarket
at your favorite tesco (but probably in city of london or enfield), at any time during the month

[look, everyone's gotta shop for groceries. connor's lists have gotten undeniably weirder in the last few months, offering to pick up things for his witch friends ("friends" - friend, in the singular, that's soeki) while here's there. most of this stuff honestly feels like a joke (candles and sage and he's honestly wondering if they're going for eye of newt and toe of frog next), but connor's a good friend and if he's going to be at tesco anyway he can pick up stuff for his buddy.

along with, you know, the usual - good looking produce, the atlantic, condoms, new lightbulb for the broken fixture, cold cereal, pasta, eggs. if you need help reaching something on a shelf, just want random commentary on your life choices, or happen to recognize connor from somewhere (his tinder account? maybe you already know him? the possibilities are endless) this prompt is for you.]

ii - @ the courthouse
city of london, towards the end of the business day.

Shit --

[this is connor, running through a crowd like an asshole, trying not to bump into anyone (but offering "sorry!" if he does, i mean he's not devoid of manners). he's carrying a briefcase with a brief from his boss/professor in it, one that the deadline is approaching, in about thirty minutes, says a quick look at his watch. according to her it was their fault the brief was running so late and despite the wonderful world of the internet, this particular magistrate believed in hard copies, thank you so they'd drawn straws and connor had lost. "good luck with rush hour foot traffic!" yeah, thanks.

he manages to compose himself enough that when he hands the papers off to the clerk (with five minutes to spare!) he doesn't look like a total wreck. mission thusly accomplished has a minute to take a break, relived that he managed to not screw this up and get in her bad graces.

another day, another crisis, right?]

iii - wildcard
[you probably know how this one works! if you want a specific prompt by me let me know that, too.]

Comments

[falsify]

[well the last time he was drunk it took two solid days so, uh.]

[good luck connor.]

I'm a scotch man, most of the time.

[iustitiae]

That's definitely do-able. You have a favorite place? Or should we pick somewhere you've never been so your friends can't see you dance?

[falsify]

Oh, assuming success already?

[Eames raises an eyebrow and takes out a card that he drops in Connor's basket.]

How about you let me know when you're free, and we'll go to the Jolly Roger.

[iustitiae]

[what are you talking about this is already success.]

Saturday?

[falsify]

I'll see you then.

[iustitiae]

[fast forward to saturday at the jolly roger. connor you have a boy.....a boy in your life. you shouldn't be here, but whatever. he's happy to see eames when he shows up, (and has he remembered whatever fake name eames gave him? no he sure hasnt) pointing to the two glasses of scotch that are waiting for them.]

I can't wait to see you dance.

[falsify]

Gotta get me drunk first.

[Eames grins as he takes a seat and picks up a glass, swilling it for a moment before he takes a sip. Good stuff.] Good luck with that.

[iustitiae]

[hey when he plays, he plays to win. also he's rich.]

I'm not afraid of a challenge.

[falsify]

I should hope not. [Eames smirks over the rim of his glass and takes another sip, clearly not even a little worried about his alcohol intake.] There's no excitement in shying away from life's difficulties.

[iustitiae]

Right, no reward if it comes easily.

[funny, that they're talking to a completely different end than doing a jig.]

[falsify]

Exactly. [Eames tips his glass toward Connor, an agreeing gesture.] And then what's the point?

[iustitiae]

Maybe there isn't one anymore. Unless the sex is really good.