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[attr="class","ctopline"]Looking at my own reflection

[attr="class","cscriptcriminal"]when suddenly it changes

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[attr="class","clyrics"]Violently it changes,[break]
There is no turning back now

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[attr="class","cbody"]Mondays weren’t exactly a night when they were particularly busy. Most people had jobs and that sort of shit—things that kept them from venturing to this side of town on a weeknight. But this wasn’t exactly an establishment for the upper crust and that lot. Yes, there were a fair few of them on fighting nights, ones that come to see the bloodshed. That was the sort of shit that they were into. But on the calmer nights, when there was just drinking and some gambling, those weren’t the sorts of people they got in here.
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They had enough people coming in to warrant the club being open every night, though. That was the sort of business shit that he had to know these days, after all. He had to look at facts and figures, had to determine if the club brought in enough of a profit to even be open for the slower part of the week. If they lost more money in paying their staff to be there, than was brought in by people drinking and gambling, then there was no use in it. They would just be losing money on those nights. But that hadn’t happened yet. They at least made enough money to keep it open every night for now. And honestly, he thought that they would only get more business as the weather got warmer. People tended to stay in more in the winter. When it actually got warm enough, they could open up the patio in the back and that would bring in even more business.
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Patio was almost too fancy of a word for the space, but the outdoors had been converted. There was an outdoor bar, some seating, some lighting that managed to look more industrial than girly, which worked for him. He didn’t mind the space. But he’d found that most of the club was to his tastes. It wasn’t overly ostentatious or anything like that. Even the loft that he lived in wasn’t too bad. It had come fully furnished, and he’d only had to sell or throw out a few bits of décor and furniture that he hadn’t liked at all. The space was minimal, but it worked well for him. And it kept him well away from his old apartment, where his mum still lived as far as he was aware. He hadn’t checked on her yet this month, but he assumed that she was still breathing.
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Tonight had been slow enough that he had told Lyla that she could go on her break early and he’d cover the bar for her. He was not a bartender by any stretch of the imagination, so that was only something that he offered when they were pretty slow. He could keep up well enough then. Pouring shots and shit was not all that difficult to do. It wasn’t like a lot of people that came in on weeknights ordered the fancier drinks. It was on the weekends that they got their curious crowds, people from better areas of London that were curious enough to come down here. They were the ones that ordered the ridiculous mixed drinks, and they were also the ones that the bartenders knew to hike up the prices for. That was where they brought in the big money, and those were also days that he didn’t like to watch for the bartenders unless he absolutely had to.
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He didn’t mind it tonight, though. Lyla could go smoke or hang out with Aurora or whatever it was she did on her breaks. He could pour drinks while she was gone. He’d likely end up drinking at least one of his own before she came back anyway. “What’ll you have?” He asked, eyes still focused on the glass he was cleaning. He was just decent enough at being aware of his surroundings to realize that someone had approached him.
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[attr="class","cnotes"]652 ● Kallisto Ophelia Parkinson ● outfit

[attr="class","cred"]MADE BY VEL OF WW + ADOX 2.0

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no turning back now

You've woken up the demon in me

Get up, come on get down with the sickness

She should have gone to the Dueling Club. That was where she went on Monday after work. She smiled and made small talk--sipped too sweet drinks and charmed wixens with old names and older Gringotts vaults. Kallisto just could not do that today. She couldn't wear the prim and proper tea length power suit for another second. It was suffocating her. She was more than a brilliant mind--she was an artist. She had creativity and spirit in her. She was her mother's daughter, after all. With Donna and Greg as her parents, of course, Kallisto had a wild streak. Of course, she had a dark streak. 

And sometimes, those parts of her had to be expressed. She traded neutral modesty for a more edgy style. Both bespoke for her by Donna, for very different reasons. The only thing she had been sure of when she walked into her closet was that she had to wear some type of hosiery. Fishnets caught her eye--and she paired them with a sparkly silver mini skirt and a black sweater that covered nearly the entire skirt. It was sexy, but not try hard. She couldn't look like she was trying to impress Finn...if she even saw him tonight. 

Sometimes she went to Paroxysm and didn't even see him--sometimes she went there and ended up home with vampires or other fighters. Sometimes she went home alone. Plus, she wasn't going there just for him. It wasn't just about Finn. It was to go somewhere different. To break the pattern. If this didn't do what she needed then maybe she would go visit her father... She spent more time than was decent at the Lucky Strike. Greg didn't really know how to be a father, but he didn't complain about having her around, especially when she always seemed to make him money. It was just so easy. Most of the men that came into the Strike were predictable. Cleavage and long bare legs distracted them and she just took all their money. 

Kallisto had nearly decided to apparate over to Knockturn Alley when she saw him. Even with his face titled down, she could tell it was Finn from all the way across the room. His silhouette-- like every other part of him-- was burned into her mind. He was a part of her whether she wanted him to be or not. But was she part of him? Kali could never really know for sure. Some signs pointed to yes. Other things made her doubt. The voice in her head did plenty to help the latter, too. 

But she was a lot better at ignoring the whispers in her ear now than she had been back at Hogwarts. She shut down the commentary immediately, blocking out that noise as she crossed over towards the bar. Finn hadn't seen her yet, which let her watch him without any worry or nerves. There were new scars on his body now- She could see hints of them peaking out from the edges of his clothes. They had stories she didn't know yet. But the other marks that littered his body, those she knew the history. Those she had memorized in the hours her fingertips had traced his skin. They'd always been so good at the shagging. Time hadn't changed that. It had made the world different. But the chemistry, the spark that had been between them in their youth was still there. 

When she reached the bar, he spoke to her, still not looking up. A smirk played on her lips. She leaned against the bar, letting the nail of her forefinger tap against the wood. She wanted to be clever, or cute, or something. But all the lines that came into her head seemed so lame. She didn't want him to think she was boring. Drawing her lip under her canine, she found her voice and answered his question: "Whatever you feel like pouring, just make sure there's two of them. Unless you are going to make me drink alone." The husky timber of her alto would be familiar to Finn. It hadn't been that long now since he'd heard it...and even when longer lengths of time separated them, they still knew one another. In September, he'd spotted her out of a bustling crowd. They just had a way of noticing one another, no matter who else was around. 

@ the bad boy with the good lips  • 729 • outfit

MADE BY VEL OF GS + ADOX 2.0

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[attr="class","ctopline"]LOOKING AT MY OWN REFLECTION

[attr="class","cscriptcriminal"]when suddenly it changes

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[attr="class","clyrics"]VIOLENTLY IT CHANGES,[break]
THERE IS NO TURNING BACK NOW

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[attr="class","cbody"]When he had been interested in coming back to London, they had made that happen. It wasn’t like he had been absolutely dying to come back or anything like that. He had enjoyed his time in Moscow. It had ended up being a hell of a lot more than he’d expected when he had first taken the train there. Finn hadn’t gone to the city with any expectations. He had just somehow ended up in Siberia and the natural place to go after that was to Moscow. And from then, he had just gotten in contact with the right people. Or the wrong people, depending on who you asked. But he’d had a good time. The work had been the type of shit that he’d been good at, and he’d learned more about running a business than he ever thought that he’d have a reason to know.
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Did he think that meant they were going to find themselves a business opportunity in London and let him run it? No. That was definitely not what he had been expecting, but it had been what had happened anyway. It hadn’t been much of anything to them. It had just been pocket change to buy the warehouse from the bloke who could honestly not even afford it anymore. And then he had just ended up here. It had definitely not been what he was expecting.
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Some days, he missed Moscow. He had definitely been living a different lifestyle there than he did here. That was a bloody understatement, really. But he had never been one that needed unnecessarily material things. He enjoyed the gambling and the drinking and the women. But he could get a drink and gamble just as easily here in London than he could in Moscow. And here, he could do that without spending triple the money on a whiskey. The places that they had gone in Moscow had never had the cheap stuff, after all. There had been no going out and spending less than 12,000 rubles. And that was if he was being stingy. Most nights, tabs at casinos and rooftop bars had been a hell of a lot more than that.
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Here, he could get a bottle of whiskey for next to nothing. He’d always had cheap taste. He wasn’t going to get mad about cheap liquor. It got him buzzed as well as the good stuff. But Moscow had still had its moments. It had definitely been fun. Sometimes he missed it. And it was unfortunate when that happened, since he was stuck here. He had gone into this knowing that borders were closed though. That was just something that he had to deal with now.
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Working here had not been all that bad. Running a business had not been something he’d expected to be doing, but he’d been a quick enough study back in Moscow and this place was not all that hard to run. All things considered, it was pretty straightforward. The staff was halfway decent too—they didn’t annoy him all that much. Aurora was reliable. His bartenders brought in good regulars and knew how to handle drunks pretty well. And the fighters did well. They knew how to put on a show. It was going well, especially for the slow season. Finn was sure they’d pick up in the warmer months too, even if he hadn’t been around to see that for sure. He’d grown up in this neighborhood though. That was enough of a reason for him to make that kind of assumption.
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When Lyla had gone on her break, he had not expected to have to do all that much work behind the bar. Everyone already there, as few people as there were tonight, had full drinks, and he wasn’t expecting much of a late rush on a weeknight. He still was aware enough of his surroundings to sense someone approach, though he had not thought it would be anyone that he knew. He definitely hadn’t thought that it would be Kali. “Whatever I feel like pouring, huh?” He asked, with an amused smirk, before setting two rocks glasses down on the bar. “That’s a dangerous thing to tell a man.” They had some strong enough at this bar, after all. Or he could go another route, could grab crème de menthe or something equally disgusting. That could wind up being pretty amusing.
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In the end, he grabbed the one bottle of Bruichladdich X4 Quadrupled Whiskey they had. It was the highest alcohol count they had and the most expensive bottle of whiskey they had too. He poured them both two fingers of the liquor before setting it back on the shelf.
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[attr="class","cnotes"]782 ● @ kali ● outfit

[attr="class","cred"]MADE BY VEL OF WW + ADOX 2.0

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no turning back now

You've woken up the demon in me

Get up, come on get down with the sickness

She was here for him. There was no denying it. Kallisto had come to see Finn. She craved him in a way that would not fade-- not over miles, not over time, not even despite his blood status. He was set apart for her. He always had been-- and she had a very distinct feeling he always would be.

The thing was somehow despite their ever present need to rip each other's clothes off: Kallisto knew him. She knew his expressions. She knew his stories. She knew his scars. He even knew some things about her. He knew two of her most closely guarded secrets: who her parents were and what she was. Finn had seen her fly and transform from raven to witch. She had flown to him on a number of occasions to meet him in Hogsmeade when he was still at Hogwarts after she had already left. She had just trusted that he would never rat her out to the Ministry-- and it was quite the grand entrance. The witch couldn't resist it. Even though it probably did not really impress him... And yes, of course, she wanted to impress him. It was a problem. A very chronic problem.

He and Sierra were the two who knew that she was an animagus. Donna and Michael knew she had pursued the knowledge, but had not been made aware of her mastery of it. She had no intention to register, so the fewer that knew the better. Sierra knew because she had been the one to help Kallisto learn about physics and how birds fly. That knowledge had not just been imparted to her when she achieved her non-human form.

It had been easy to share her other great secret with him, too. All the pieces had fallen into place for that truth to just come out. Timing really was everything with that. She had just learned that she was Greg and Donna's daughter. Finn had come back from Russia. She had showed up at Paroxysm- and the rest was history. The moment the pair of blue eyes met, it had been a fast and easy slip for the pair back into old habits. Her outfit destroyed, he was telling scar secrets, and she was laying out truths she kept inside with everyone else. But it absolutely did not mean anything. They were just shagging. That was totally all that they had ever been. Right? Right.

So, the smile she had on her face was just for flirtation's sake-- it was not as if had just blossomed there at the sight of the wizard. Absolutely not. That would never happen. And her eyes were not dilating and her heart was not racing just at the timber of his voice. She was not charmed by that devil-may-care sexy smirk. She could not be. She could not have feelings for Finn Harlow. He had left before. He could leave again. She had to be ready for that. Her heart had to stay guarded. As if it had ever managed that for one day where he was concerned.

The sparks that flew between the pair were purely a physical thing. She needed to remember that. She needed to not melt into a puddle for him. She knew better. She was Kallisto Ophelia Parkinson. She was a badass. She did not get butterflies. She did not fall for Finn Harlow. She was the one who broke hearts. She was not going to get her's broken by him again.

She pushed all thoughts of feelings and attachment way down, boxing them up and burying them in the darkest parts of her. Nope. Kali was not going to acknowledge any of that. She was just going to flirt and smirk and act as if the wizard wasn't her greatest addiction. A ring of laughter rolled off her tongue, teasing and light at his retort. She rolled her ultramarine eyes, smirk never faltering for a second. "I am sure I can handle whatever danger you have in mind." Innuendo hung between them as it always did. She had not thought for a second that Finn might pour her something foul. She was trusting him to go for the hard, maybe not the expensive, but definitely the hard. He did like things that way--just as she did.

Kallisto took the glass of whisky in her delicate, perfectly manicured fingers. She lifted it towards him. "To saying things that will get me in trouble." Her brows lifted ever so slightly as she spoke the last word. The toast had been a challenge as much as it had been a declaration. Blood red lips kissed the glass as she took a sip of the liquor, eyes never leaving Finn. There weren't many people in the club this evening, but even if it had been full, it would all have faded to nothing when she had zeroed in on him.

@ the bad boy with the good lips  • 820 • outfit

MADE BY VEL OF GS + ADOX 2.0