Who:Killian Doyle and Conor (Open to Alex) When:Saturday August 2nd, Late evening Where:The Barking Irish Summary:Catching up and manly drinking Warnings/Rating:TBD Status:completed
The sound of the music playing in the background of the place, and the stench of the unfamiliar werewolves was annoying, but he tolerated it for the moment since another scent had caught his attention. Alex. With a smile he watched her from a distance, torn between talking to her or remaining still. In the end Killian waited, waited for her to go on break and leave the bar before he at last made his move. Instead of following after her he took a seat at the bar. With a nod to the bartender Doyle waited for the man...no, the wolf, to come over and before a word could be spoken Killian reached into the back pack he carried and took out a toy.
The glass mason jar was filled with electrical wiring, a block of something that looked like C4, and silver nails. Without saying a word he set it upon the bar and just smiled up at the bar tender. Suddenly the clicking noise echoed out as the newcomer played with the safety of the remote detonator in his hand.
Strange as it all was, the man never once asked a single question, never demanded answers or names. With a genuine smile he even winked at bartender before moving behind the bar to find a decent bottle. With a nod to himself Doyle grabbed an expensive one and placed it on the bar along with two glasses. Before moving back around the bar to grab a seat the wolf took out some cash from his wallet and placed it into the cash register. With a wolfish smile placed another five in the tip jar and finally returned to his stool on the other side of the bar. With a little nod he dismissed the wolf, letting him go tell the boss...which is the one person Doyle actually wanted to speak with.
Waiting patiently never bothered him much, and even now as he sipped his drink and waited for the owner to show, Doyle's thoughts drifted. Being state side was not his idea, and if he was being completely honest with himself, well he'd rather be back home drinking a pint and trying to sucker someone into playing a few hands. However the Second could not ignore his father's order, so here he sat. Losing Alex was troubling to be sure. Oh the fact that she loved another and sought them out actually made him smile a little, if anything that girl deserved to be happy...and being far away from a man like her father would make anyone happy. Hell he had no issue with his betrothed fleeing at all now that he thought about it. Losing a wife to be wasn't ideal but it was the loss of a great Enforcer that had upset him more then anything.
There was no letter for him when she left, no explanation or apology for leaving the pack vulnerable...and the well being of the pack was all that mattered in the end. It mattered more then his own desires, and more then the life of any one pack member. And that well being was all but shattered the moment the world learned that the wolves existed. Such a mess had been made of things, and there was no end in sight to any of it. The orders from his father/Alpha were simple enough, but the execution of those orders were far more challenging. "Deal with it..." Three little words had thrown his desire to live a quiet peaceful life into complete chaos. So here he was, remote detonator in one hand, glass of well aged scotch in the other...patiently awaiting one of the few people who were as close to the center of this whole fucking mess as one could be.
The sound of the back door opening perked up his ears and with a slight smile Killian raised his glass and spoke up softly, not even bothering to glance towards the entrance. "Been too long Conor." With a chuckle Doyle took a sip of the scotch before setting the glass back down, and without waiting for a reply he picked the bottle up and refilled his glass then filled an empty glass as well. Pushing the untouched glass to the spot beside him the wolf picked up his own again and spoke at last. "Hope ya don't mind, found the bottle ya had tucked away. Figured sharing a drink or two would go smoother if the scotch didn't taste like shite, and I gotta admit ya do have excellent taste."