Who: Johanna Constantine & Damien Duval What: Drinks on him When: 7pm sharp after this. Where: White Wyrm Warnings: Johanna's mouth at the very least Status: Closed/incomplete.
The cheek on this guy! He blew her off the first time. Now he was calling in that raincheck but telling her not to be late. Johanna had to respect the bollocks on him, and now her curiosity was up.
So did she show up on time. More or less. Actually, she was there early, but had herself camouflaged behind some magic obfuscation. Johanna had found the darkest shadow in the bar to watch from and smoke. She hadn't gotten a drink yet. That was on Damien. Far be it from her to rob him of the privilege.
The crowd here was interesting. The guy at the door was a knotted lump of man meat who wasn't worth her time. There was no saving some people from testosterone poisoning. There was a guy behind the bar who at first struck her as more man meat, but he kept looking directly at her even after she'd put up the magic. Fucker had heightened senses, but he left her alone so she ignored the looks. There was a girl bartender who'd caught Johanna's eye, however. Little bubbly for her tastes, but definitely easy on the eyes. Johanna'd go there...until she caught sight of the ring. Damn.
Then her guy came in. She watched him approach the bar and scanned him visually and magically. Undead. Lovely. Could be a number of creatures. Johanna'd be on her guard, but so far the undead she'd either run into or heard about behaved themselves. Well, her night just got more interesting.
She blew out a final cloud of smoke before stubbing the cigarette out into the ice of an empty glass, dropped the magic then walked up behind Damien. "Oy. Where's my seat?"