Re: victor & irene; mariner's inn at midnight You should go.
The polite allowance of exit was an inviting prospect. The doorway beckoned, not as a way to rejoin proper society, but a way to escape this crude tavern. If Victor was want to sit amongst grim company, there was a fresh corpse soaking in a tub at his basement laboratory. The company here was not all grim, for the woman had a cheerful laugh and eyes that glittered under glow of candle light. Perhaps the perceived luminosity was an effect of drug, the nature of light was strange to undilated eyes. But the effect, whether the celestial attribute be imagined or not, was the same. Victor stared.
"Perhaps you should as well." Although after voicing that concern, Victor seemed to regret. If this place was her homestead, then suggesting it was foul for her to be here was in poor taste. "You are right," he supposed while standing from his chair. Victor dropped his head toward her, the mannerism was gracious. Asking after her name seemed invasive, as she'd only tried to keep him from being robbed or murdered. If these grounds were familiar to her, he hoped that she might navigate them well.
He left the Mariner's Inn after that, returning to his lab for another long night of science. Or so he initially imagined. Yet upon return, Victor discovered that it was his sketchbook and not medicine that fascinated him. So he took up pencil, and detailed some of his evening in soft strokes of lead.