imrtlwitch

[imrtlwitch]

"Oh, yes, no that does ring a bell, actually. The apparent daylight jewellery, I think people are coining it. If anyone can find out if it's true and make it for you, it's him I'm sure." Harley wasn't a one trick pony in simply healing and life force, however his boyfriend was certainly the better of the two for something that seemed as complex as that.

He glanced towards her, a telling look on his features that stated he wasn't exactly happy with the situation of the pet forced upon him, but he would make do. Declan was sweet, really, it wasn't much to do with him and more to do with the situation. "He seems sweet enough but Z just comes home and tells me this is happening, yet what he can't tell me is the pets name, anything about him or why we're housing him other than 'because a friend asked'." There were dangerous people in this town, and just because you trust one person didn't mean to the witch that you should trust everyone in that persons life too. They had no idea what they were inviting into their home. "Like I said, seems nice enough. The friend said something about watching pets around him though, so he may end up dead yet if anything happens to sweet Apollo."

"This one, is merely to follow up, I left Z with something to look into for me." It's an easy admission. Harley is a dear. Loyal. To Zane. But, there's degrees of history that burrow beneath surface level with Nsilo and the boys. No matter the months, or years that pass between them. The few still alive who have seen Castillon questionably out of sorts. "You were elsewhere, H."

As though, that were his loss.

But they both know that favours, and transactions are best when not complicated by indulgence. Castillon and Harley are often most susceptible to throwing away that rule. But not tonight.

A brow lifts at the confession. She's not often known the witches to keep secrets from each other, but she is interested in a stray. She's not innocent in her collective attitude of bringing in new blood. There's no judgement. "Don't spare the details, do tell." She'd like to hear this. "Z's merely looking into this mention of immortals beneath the sun," it's casual, as if Nsilo is not convinced yet, "You do like to keep busy, the pair of you."

[imrtlwitch]

Describe a scenario in which your character feels most comfortable.

It is very hard for Harley to be uncomfortable anywhere, but their perfect day, his idea of comfort, would be a day spent at home with Zane and their dog. They could do whatever took their fancy, so long as it meant quality time with Zane. He'd fit some time in to write in his journal, they'd watch a movie, Harley would cook for them. Just a soft day of being a soft boy with his very not-soft boyfriend. That would be the situation that would bring the most comfort to him, and therefore where he would feel the most comfortable. @zanexxpatel

[imrtlwitch]

14. Does your character remember names or faces easier?

Definitely faces, and it helps if you have a pretty face. Though if you've made enough of an impact to make it into his journal, he's never forgetting your name either.

[imrtlwitch]

How quick or slow is your character to resort to physical violence in a confrontation?

Harley is very slow to resort to physical violence. He will not hit back unless he's hit first, and even then if it's not someone he knows or cares about, he's more likely to drain their life force and end the altercation before it can get out of hand. If it is someone he knows or cares about, it really depends on the level of care he has for them as to whether he'd hit back or just simply let them hit out. If he's with Zane though, odds are the fist never lands because his boyfriend would see it coming and use his power to make sure that the other is controlled and not harming a hair on Harley's head. If he has to fight to defend himself, he will, but he has other means and ways at his disposal. @zanexxpatel

[imrtlwitch]

send me a ✐ for a random sentence starter from my muse (1-1500) / accepting!

@zanexxpatel asked: ✐

198. ❛ But sometimes you leave blood on your instruments. ❜

"Hey look, you know I love your magic; you know I love you. I'm just saying that... look, sometimes you leave blood on your instruments after you're done and like, I don't know whose blood that is every time. If it's yours or mine, fine, but if it's someone else's... please clean that shit up, it gives me the heebie jeebies." Harley chuckled, because really it was a small thing. It wasn't something that was truly bothering him even if he did go through an insane amount of marigolds cleaning up after whatever it was that Zane had decided to work on with his magic that day. "Leave a little message in the blood that says, "don't worry baby, it's mine xoxo", or clear it up. That's all. Plus if the dog gets into it then... yikes, don't want him getting a taste for blood, babe."

[imrtlwitch]

Confusion sets in, Harley's eyes following the gesture to the woods as if he would find an answer to his questions through the heavy rain and blustering trees. "Felt something get caught; what does that mean?" He asked, trying his best to meet Declan's eyes so he could search them for hints of truth or lies.

The witch didn't feel comfortable leaving his ward alone, his responsibility thanks to Jameson, and Zane. He felt the need to protect the other, without knowing much more than just his name. "Why don't I come with you? I'll keep my distance, I promise, and then we can head to shelter together? If something is injured, I can help, too. I can try to heal it." Harley offered, eyes glancing up towards the woods once more as he wondered what would be waiting within the trees.

Declan is almost, almost, almost to the trap. The clouds have obscured the sun, the rain blurrs his vision, but he can feel himself getting closer. He knows this clearing, he knows these woods now. Declan! He stumbles to a halt, breath heaving, soaked through and shivering, pivots reluctantly. He meets Harley halfway with a few looks back over his shoulder, to get his bearing, to make sure those woods don't just disappear on him. With his luck, he wouldn't put it past the universe to try.

"What...what are you doing out here?" He gestures vaguely towards the woods, "Listen, I just felt something get caught, I really need to get it handled. I promise, I'll get to shelter as soon as I'm done." His voice sounds thin, stupid even to his own ears. But he's determined. He has to save whatever it is that was caught. It's only right.

[imrtlwitch]

"Darling, I'm sure you are. This little magic trick will make you more popular though." He stated, still smirking even though she'd snapped at him. He knew that magic was a lot, especially when you were first discovering yourself. "Do you have someone helping you? This kind of magic, it's not my forte but I have some contacts, if you need help. I can give you them and tell them to look out for your call." Harley offered, not wanting to overstep too much but wanting to help if he could.

The witch watched as she concentrated, focused on her magic and turning them off. Some turned off, some remained buzzing in their packaging. "You did, well done! No no, it's perfectly fine. It's not like it's doing any harm. Just... Try and repeat what you just did, you can turn the rest of them off." He watched, chewing on his lower lip as he started to pick up the ones that had fallen off the shelves. "It's alright, everyone starts somewhere. You'll learn with time."

Truly no good deed goes unpunished. Gemma makes fun of Lis for her battery powered monstrosity and decides to gift her something shiny ( or silicone ) and new – and now she’s standing red-faced in the aisle surrounded by hundreds of powered on vibrators. Extra quiet vibrations my ass. Laughter sounds from the other end of the aisle and Gemma whips her head around to find the man who’d previously been lounging behind the counter. Thank god she’s the only one in the store – there is no non magical explanation for this.

“I’m a hit at orgies because I’m stunning and fucking fantastic in bed,” Gemma, who has never been to an orgy, snaps. “Sorry – sorry, I didn’t mean to snap at you, this keeps fucking happening, I’ve broken three phones in a month. Fuck!” Her anxiety and embarrassment are doing nothing to help calm her and defuse the situation. Gemma takes a deep breath, then another, and nods pitifully when he offers help. She closes her eyes and focuses on the sound, no the electric currents providing power and motion. That electricity that’s always been a part of her, running along her spine and across her skin – she should be able to pull it back, right? A couple of boxes fall, but there are significantly less vibrators going off than just a moment ago. “I did it! Or some of them! I’m trying I’m sorry – not sure if you could tell but I’m a little new all this.”

[imrtlwitch]

"I trust you to not crack me open and delve elbow deep to try and figure out what's going on inside me, don't worry." That much he trusted, at the least, though he did worry that if they were on the cusp of something and Harley couldn't take much more then perhaps she wouldn't stop. But, that's why Zane would be there, to make it stop the second he said the word.

Brows furrowed in slight confusion as he thought it over. If he were honest, yes he knew enough about magic to know to a certain extent how his worked, more so the healing side of it than the taking life-force admittedly, but he didn't know much about other magic. "Why containment sigils? I mean, I know you just explained why but, what would that show, I guess? If it did or did not hold steady under the wards?" This is why she was the coven leader, he could see it within her - always had. The knowledge, the thirst for more for everyone around her, it was admirable.

"You have my trust Cait, you always have. You know this. I want answers, I want to see if this can be more without destroying me. I want to understand it so that I can better harness it. If this helps that then, I'll do it. I'm sure Zane will agree, I'll mention it to him at some point and we can arrange it." At her last words he scoffed a laugh. "You like him? I kinda always thought you put up with him for my sake."

Cait doesn’t bristle at his hesitation. She respects it, even if it tugs faintly at something sharp in her chest.

“I do understand,” she says, quiet and clear. “It’s not something I’d want anyone jumping into blindly. Especially not when it involves you—what you are.” Her tone softens a shade. “You’re right to talk to Zane first. You should.” A beat. “And for the record, I’m not interested in cracking you open just to see what bleeds. I want to work with you. I’ve done solo, I’ve done reckless. This isn’t that. Zane would be there. You’d have the final word—always.”

She pauses, weighing her words before offering them up like something fragile and sharp-edged.

“If I were to give an example... something minor. Something theoretical.” Her lips twitch in a near-smile. “I’d test whether your magic reacts to containment sigils keyed to time, not intention. I’d want to see if your energy holds steady under dampening wards designed for volatile spirits. Nothing invasive. Nothing painful. But new. Carefully monitored. And only if you were absolutely comfortable.”

Her gaze steadies on his. “If you’re not sure, we don’t do it. Full stop. I don’t want your trust unless it’s given freely. I’m not here to scare you, Harley. I’m here because I think you might be the key to something bigger—and I won’t take one step forward without you knowing exactly where your footing is.”

Then, with a wry tilt of her head: “Besides. I like Zane too much to piss him off.”

[imrtlwitch]

"Of course you can, and you should, but your visits are usually accompanied by reasons, darling." Harley replied, a knowing smirk of his own on his features. Things with Nsilo in their lives were never boring, that was for sure; the witch wouldn't have it any other way.

Whilst he was doing his best, and he had forgiven Zane, he was still a little mad. Causing a little upset by coming home with a vampire bite wouldn't be too far from something he'd be willing to do right now. . . Though recalling Budapest at her reminder, he supposed she was right. "No, I suppose we would not. Though for the record, we may be pretty much as one but he still doesn't control my own bodily autonomy." No matter how much his boyfriend may actually control him from time to time. "Rumours? There's a lot he hasn't told me recently, if I'm honest. We've taken in a stray, for one. I found that out after he'd already agreed to it." a beat, as he let out a sigh, "He's just lucky the stray is cute, I suppose."

"Harley," A warmth exudes out of Castillon that rarely gets to see the light of day. Old friends who prove their worth for decades gone earn pieces that she does not unheave very often. Nsilo does not keep too many in her inner circle, but she would consider this witch — and his other half, friends, even if it's in nothing more than company, and memory. She doesn't expect their moral agendas to align, always. Castillon would burn most men for their sneer, and Harley would sooner draw the unlife from her very existence in the name of equality. "Can I not just visit my boys? Zane often says the same."

A kiss exchanged, cheek upon cheek.

Castillon smirks at his brash offering, but declines the tantalising idea of a witch's blood. She had not long left the teahouse before she made her way over. And tequila is not her vice, but she'll entertain it.

"We wouldn't desire to upset your man, would we?" In fact, Nsilo might say that's the only reason she'd entertain the prospect. "I recall a rather messy night in Budapest, no?" In flashes, because she had remembered the witch's power then, too. It'd been why she'd visited; rumours continue to breathe life, and Castillon has asked a favour of the prince of blood. "I expect he's told you of these rumours."

They're one person, most of the time, in each other's heads.

[imrtlwitch]

@declanofruin when: during the hurricane

Harley was ashamed to say that during the hurricane, Declan was an afterthought, however he was still a thought nonetheless. Once he'd made sure that Zane and his dog had shelter, he set off to look for the other. Despite his... dislike of the other in his home without much of a say from himself, Declan was still someone that both he and Zane had taken responsibility for. He wrapped up and set off out into the storm to look for the other, knowing the little he knew about him from Jameson and their few conversations before. The witch was sure he saw him, up near the woods, but he couldn't be sure. "Declan!" He called out, picking up to a jog to try and catch up. "Declan! We gotta get to shelter, come on!" Harley called out over the storm as he managed to catch up. "It's not safe out here."

[imrtlwitch]

@nsilocastillon

"I'm just closing up, but if you're quick—" He raises his head, a smile coming to his lips in an instant as eyes find Castillon's. "I take that back, for you we're open always, mi diamante. To what do I owe the pleasure?" Harley slipped out from behind the counter, moving close to press a kiss to the others cheek and slip past Nsilo, locking the door so that they wouldn't be interrupted. If she had made the trip to Eden's Apple, then there was either business to discuss or she just missed Harley that much. He would be flattered with either reasoning.

Smirking, he pulled two glasses from under the counter and the finest tequila. "Drink, mi amor? You can have a little taste of me too, if you so please. I have missed those beautiful fangs of yours."

[imrtlwitch]

His expression twisted into amusement at her comment, glancing down at his drink and shrugging, "Well it's not the best coffee I've ever had, however it does definitely lack that distinct shit flavour, so I think you're safe." Harley teased, chewing on his lower lip as he looked over the stranger. Perhaps it was easier to talk to strangers, and yet somehow the tribulations of Port Leiry meant that he had a hard time in trusting anyone he wasn't already close to with at least the important stuff. Harley was usually a very open guy, however there was some stuff he would keep close to his chest. The intricacies of his magic were certainly one of those.

"Oh you know, just my boyfriend and his friend arranging for someone I've never met and my boyfriend has very little details about to stay in our home for an unknown amount of time. I'm over it, I guess, I'm just a little anxious. He sounds... Strange. I'm good with strange, I am, I'm just not good with not knowing. You know?" It was one thing that had been on his mind, and it was better to tell a half-truth than a lie, was it not?

Tyche was still new in town learning the flows and rhythm of the city, and apparently still learning when the coffee shop would be too busy to find a place to sit. Brown eyes sorted through the various patrons in the shop looking for a spot where things wouldn't be to terribly obnoxious. Tyche let her magic curl out from her fingers, a spider feeling the strands of the future hum and vibrate. Tyche could weave her web and unravel the strands to twist events in her favor but nothing was definite. She never knew how things would exactly play out.

One individual sat alone, staring into his coffee cup like a man lost and the liquid was the north star. The threads around him longer than they should be, twisted frayed, tinged in red and leading somewhere off beyond Tyches senses. Now that was something she hadn't seen before. The witch was pleasantly surprised when the other spoke , a way in to discover the unknown.

" Youre gorgeous darling, but you look like someone shit in your drink. It had me second guessing my order" Tyche mused, taking the open invitation to slide across the table from the other. "They say sharing your thoughts with a stranger is easier than sharing your thoughts with a friend" Tyche offered setting her own coffee down on on the table. Fingers tracing the rim of the cup as she tilted her head.

[imrtlwitch]

His anger lay with Jameson, his frustration at Zane passing quickly yet still lurking; the anxiety came in the form of knowing nothing about the stranger under their roof, and the warning from Jameson to keep animals away from him. Harley had no idea if that was a quip meant to send him into a spiral or factual, but so far he had been keeping his dog under his watchful eye at all times.

The witch was trying hard to not be mad at the stray they'd taken in on someone else's request; he assumed that it was not something the other had a choice in either but he was worried, no matter how much Zane told himself he didn't have to be. He glanced up as the voice cut through the sounds of him cooking breakfast, and he swears most of his negative feelings almost melt away then and there. Such anxiety within the other, he can practically feel it radiating. Declan is so much like the others that Harley and Zane would willingly take under their wing throughout the years... it was just different when it was forced on you.

"Hi, Declan." He replied, eyes watching the other with curiosity. He wiped his hand off on a dish towel, and shook the hand offered towards him. "I'm Harley. We didn't have the pleasure of being formally introduced before you moved into my home, but I doubt that's any more your doing than it is mine, right?" A beat, and he's back to cooking. "I'm making breakfast. Allergies? Intolerances? Dislikes? I hear you have a taste for certain animals. My dog is not and will never be one you have a taste for, or you will know what my magic feels like and honey, I do not mean the kind that will have you begging for more. That's it, that's the only rule I have. Deal?"

Cooking breakfast was... an understatement. It was more like a spread, but whilst his mother was alive she had taught him well and he knew how to greet guests. Plus, apparently he was now a stress-cooker, so at least Declan may be terrified but he would never be hungry. "Darling, relax. I'm mad, but I'm not mad at you. Tell me about yourself. Neither Jameson nor my boyfriend did." It was a request, for sure, but not necessarily one that gave the other the option to say no. He had a lot on the go at once in the kitchen, Arepos, Cachitos de Jamón, Perico, Tequenos and Mandoca - all breakfast foods his mom had taught him to cook before she passed, insisting that he should be in touch with his roots enough to not miss out on the flavours of Venezuela.

who: @imrtlwitch where: zane and harley's home

Flashback to a month and some weeks, shortly after Declan arrives in PL...

Declan spends the first night in something of a half-sleep. His chest sits heavy. He keeps thinking the floor will fall through and he'll wake up in what he believes to be the after-life. Alone, dark, and still.

But morning comes, and he's still here. He's got blood flowing through his veins and a heart beating in his chest. He's not all decayed flesh beneath 6 feet of dirt. He's breathing. He's living.

Declan keeps quiet most of the morning, not only because he doesn't enjoy calling attention to himself, but he is generally a quiet person. He pads through the unfamiliar space, ostensibly on the tips of his toes so as to not disturb anyone, until he spots Harley in the kitchen.

It's only polite to formally introduce himself. And as anxious as he is, which apparently seems to be overriding his ability to read people, anxiety is not an excuse to be rude. He clears his throat before approaching to get the other man.

Oh god, what if he already hates Declan? What has Jameson told him? Did Jameson even tell him anything? Does he think Declan is an intruder? Does he feel like Declan is intruding? Is he not right in thinking so? What if he sees Declan and immediately hexes him? What if the hex makes him shit himself? What if it makes him throw up frogs? What if it...melts his teeth? Is that a thing witches can do? That feels like a thing witches can do???? What if --

"Hey." He cuts through his own panic spiral because at this point, he knows that is the only way to make it stop. "I'm Declan. I'm not sure..." He stops, because of course Zane would tell him about Declan, they're together. He starts again. "I'm Declan, and I wanted to..." Wrong, he tells himself. He takes a breath. "I'm...Declan. Hi." He steps (stumbles) forward to offer a hand for Harley to shake.

[imrtlwitch]

Experimentation. Turns out, that started before immortality was even truly achieved and despite the trust there was fear there. How far would she push him? How much would she truly listen to him? The thought of it set his nerves on edge, as though in one of those past lives he'd rambled on about he had experienced it and it hadn't gone well. Yet if it were on his terms, if it were safely, then it would be with Zane there to stop her if anything got out of hand, wouldn't it?

"That depends what you mean by experiments..." Harley started, eyes slowly meeting hers. Her expression is soft, and the words say what he needs to hear and yet it still causes fear in his heart, and a hesitation he's never had when it comes to Cait. "And my terms would mean that Zane would be present, just in case you can't resist pushing a little further even after I say stop." Power was something so many yearned for; would stop at nothing for. If Cait figured out what made him tick, what would stop her trying to take it for herself? Trying to manipulate him to her will, at the end of it all? It wasn't sitting one hundred percent right but, it was something he was still interested in if it meant there may be answers at the end of it.

"I need to speak to Zane about it before I give you an answer, Cait. I'm sure you understand." Harley cared for the other witch, but he didn't much care if she understood or not. Decisions like this were not something he could make alone, and he already knew that his boyfriend wouldn't like it. Ultimately, it was his own choice but the others opinion would have influence upon that decision.

"Do you have an example? Of what you'd do?"

Zane is the other half of me, the other half of my everything. The words part the air between them with their rawness. Cait doesn’t expect them to catch the air the way they do. Soulmate. That’s a road Cait does not want to go down, a spiral she doesn’t really want to descend.

Cait doesn’t believe in soulmates. Not really. The word makes her bristle — too soft, too final, like a lie people tell themselves to make loss feel fated instead of hollow. The idea that there’s one perfect match for every person sounds suspiciously like bad magic: comforting, seductive, and dangerously easy to misuse. She’s seen what people do when they think they’ve found “the one.” How far they’ll go. How much they’ll bleed. Soulmates, in her experience, are just another excuse to justify madness — to carve someone open and call it devotion.

But still... still, there's something about watching Harley talk about Zane that tugs at something small and quiet inside her, something old and aching and hard to look at. Maybe it’s envy. Maybe it’s grief. A part of her — tiny, inconvenient, buried under years of discipline and deliberate distance — wonders what it would feel like to be someone’s inevitable. Not needed. Not feared. Just… chosen. And maybe even loved for it.

She smothers that thought as soon as it rises, but it leaves a bitter warmth in its place — like the ghost of a fire she doesn’t remember lighting. "Soulmates... I don’t know if I’ll ever believe in that," Cait says quietly. "But I hope, for your sake, that it’s true."

There’s a beat of silence after she says it, the kind that stretches too long if you let it. Cait doesn’t. She shuts it down the way she shuts most tender things down — by pivoting. Her expression shutters, gaze narrowing back to the thread she can control: magic, theory, the mechanics of what’s real. Whatever sentiment had cracked loose is gone by the time she speaks again, tucked away beneath the practiced calm of someone who prefers certainty to hope.

"Fear and guilt," she echoes, soft but precise. Not mocking. Diagnosing. "That’s a heavy foundation to build anything on."

But the words aren’t judgment. They're acknowledgment. Cait knows all about building weapons out of pain. She paces a step, thoughtful, one hand skimming the edge of the worktable, mind ticking through calculations he can’t see. Patterns. Systems. Leverage. What Harley’s doing — raw instinct shoved into structure by the force of grief and love — that’s rare. Dangerous. The kind of thing the wrong person could break open and weaponize without even meaning to.

"But I don’t just want to interrogate you," Cait says, her voice smoothing back into steadiness. "I want to understand you."

A beat. Her expression softens — just barely. "If you’ll let me," she continues, "I’d like to run some experiments. Safely. On your terms. No tricks. No exploitation."

Her mouth tilts into something almost — almost — like a smile.

"I think you’re neat, Harley."

[imrtlwitch]

The witch couldn't help the smile that came to his lips at the mention of Lana, "Mm, Lana sounds very similar to Zane. He gets his mind on something, no one can stop him. I'd say it's ten percent annoying and ninety percent hot." Harley chuckled, smiling softly at Kore as they fix the straps on his dress for him. He was under no impression that AJ had left them out on purpose; he knew that if AJ was responsible for inviting people by himself and hadn't had someone do it for him, he likely just got bored no more than half way down his contact list. He didn't take offence, but it was good to show the host what his vip section would have been missing.

"Thank you, as do you. I'm loving the leather. Really brings the whole thing together and suits you fantastically." In all honesty, Harley loved his outfit but he was more proud of what he had managed to put together for Cait - he definitely had to look at doing something more dramatic for himself in future.

Kore's eyes twinkled at the idea of someone outshining their hosts but if someone was going to do it, they think this one might have the potential. Most guests were meek, content to let others tell them what to do and how to enjoy the party. There's nothing explicitly wrong with such an approach, Kore herself has taken it before, but the most fun always comes with those who are willing to press the boundaries to what's a little bit scandalous.

"Oh, so there's a point to this," Kore teases. "I can't say I know either of our hosts personally, but I've heard about them through the grapevine. While we also weren't lucky enough to score VIP invitations, there's very little that stops Lana when she puts her mind to something." They carefully fix one of the straps that has fallen down Harley's shoulders. "You look fantastic by the way, in case it wasn't obvious. I hope your boyfriend knows to appreciate it."

[imrtlwitch]

end.

The witch took his eyes away from the other to grab a tupperware container to put Tomas' french toast in, but he listened to the humans words. He said little, but perhaps saying less was saying more. Alarm bells were ringing in his ears, but he had no idea how to broach the topic properly with Tomas without filling him in completely and that would just end up putting him in more danger.

"But something is fuzzy, with your memory? You wouldn't have justified me with an answer if I was actually wildly incorrect." Harley murmured, the concern obvious on his features as he handed the other the breakfast. "If you. . . if you need any help, or if you decide you want to find answers I'll try my best for you. Now is probably not the time, I know that but, yeah. I'm here if you need it." It felt awkward, and Tomas was likely hungover and tired, craving his own bed. Harley knew there was a time and a place for most things, and this wasn't the time for an intervention about his memory. "And I'd like to clarify I thought you were out of your mind because we wouldn't let anyone, of any species or creed, in or out of existence, hurt our customers." The witch chided, a small smirk pressing over his features.

"You're free to leave whenever, or stay until whenever. Door's always open, little lamb, including the one at Eden's." He was half convinced the reporter would end up being someone's sacrificial lamb, but he hoped to hell that wouldn't be the case.

[imrtlwitch]

"Well then, let me officially apply to be the first party member in your rescue. Snacks I don't have, but I will make vague threats against anyone who dares to step on such a beautiful woman's toes." Harley grinned, having no qualms with that if it was the cost of time with someone who actually seemed interesting. "Charming hurricane? What a way to describe someone. I'm interested in who your date is, but it seems he's abandoned you for now so he can't be that fun."

"Hmm. . ." Harley pondered, grinning as he looked over the other. "That is the finest idea I've heard all night. I have known one of them long enough, I'm sure I could pass for his long lost cousin or something with the amount of time spent with him. And you could certainly also. Look at us, distant cousins come to support AJ Astor in his ventures. I'm a vip plus one, how about we see if this cousin thing can sneak you into the vip section where we could have all we could want?"

Romy turned, catching sight of the stranger with a bright, amused grin, her champagne glass tilting dangerously in her hand like it was in on the joke. "Honestly, at this point, I’m accepting all applications for rescue party members — as long as you come bearing snacks or vague threats against anyone who steps on my toes." She took a dramatic sip of her drink before adding, "And I did technically come with the menace in question, but don't worry, he's more of a charming hurricane than a full-blown natural disaster."

She straightened up with mock seriousness, tapping her chin like she was considering a very important life decision. "Or you know, we could just claim new identities, find the nearest table with those tiny overpriced hors d'oeuvres, and pretend we belong to the Astor family. I look like a second-cousin-once-removed, right?"