Shade was early, of course. He did greatly enjoy March's company, and the prospect of a good row with him was enough to force the immortal to leave his own Victorian home rather early. He slipped from the shadows like it was nothing, smooth and quick, leaving everything in order -- he would be back for clothes, he supposed -- and then took to the shadows of the hotel, enjoying the sight of March grilling his staff for the foreseeable future.
How delightful, wasn't it?
He found himself instead at the bar, eyeing the liquor with an interest, before he finally sighed, and got up himself. He didn't expect the bar staff to be there while the place wasn't quite so active, and so he waved a hand, and grabbed a bottle of wine, before he poured two glasses. He had a feeling March wouldn't mind.
"A red, before we take off?" he asked, appearing behind March in a puff of shadows, fabric flaking and drifting to the ground like it was slaked off -- like thin flakes of obsidian drifting to the ground.
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How delightful, wasn't it?
He found himself instead at the bar, eyeing the liquor with an interest, before he finally sighed, and got up himself. He didn't expect the bar staff to be there while the place wasn't quite so active, and so he waved a hand, and grabbed a bottle of wine, before he poured two glasses. He had a feeling March wouldn't mind.
"A red, before we take off?" he asked, appearing behind March in a puff of shadows, fabric flaking and drifting to the ground like it was slaked off -- like thin flakes of obsidian drifting to the ground.