there's things that aren't worth giving up i know Who: Lizbeth, Verina and Modest (familiar) Where: Outside the Golden Dragon When: Just after Lizbeth's shift ends
’We’re sitting on a bench.’
“Very good, Modest, you’ve figured out our location.” Verina did not bother to look up from the newspaper she had picked up as she said it. “Next time perhaps you can tell me what the weather is like when we’re already outside?”
Had foxes been able to give Looks then Modest would have given her angel a very direct one at that statement. ’I feel like I’m being mocked.’ No response was forthcoming, just a flip of the page and a murmur about the deteriorating morals that must exist to produce such crimes. ’Fine, mock me if you must, but answer this at least: what are we doing sitting on this bench when we have a perfectly good, perfectly comfortable bed at the hotel? This bench is too hard and there’s nothing interesting around.’
Verina did glance up then, her eyes flicking towards the left. Just up the road was the Golden Dragon restaurant, where she knew Lizbeth worked when she was not at that… other place. This bench was sat perfectly so that Lizbeth would have to go past it when she left, which should be happening any moment now. No, she had not been stalking or even following one of her only two remaining grandchildren, that would be odd, but she had kept tabs on her as she believed was her right and perhaps even duty. Lizbeth had reacted very poorly to her last time and she wanted to do what she could to change the young witch’s opinion of her. That was not even touching on how much she wanted to reach out to her in hopes of giving her a piece of the family she should have had. Had Thomas not Fallen… ’Oh don’t you even start with that, I can hear you and enough is enough. It’s not your fault that happened, not at all, you cannot control them once they’re off apron strings. Just do what you can here and if she doesn’t appreciate it then that’s her loss.’
Smiling, Verina reached over to scratch behind her familiar’s ears. She was about to remind her that it would not really just be Lizbeth’s loss, it would be her own and Nathaniel’s as well, when she caught a flash of red hair. More than anything though she felt it, that little tiny spark up inside that let her know one of those descended from her was nearby. So strongly angelic… Verina did not think about the pieces of Thomas that she could see in the young woman that was approaching, not in the way that she walked or held her head. Really, she did not. Not even a little. Instead she folded her newspaper and stood a moment before she was passed by. “Hello, Lizbeth. I was hoping that I would see you again soon. Have you been having a good day?” Modest just flicked her tail from where she was still seated on the bench.