see the devil living in those eyes

Tapping the ash from the cigarette, Spencer's eyes drifted over the crowd that had begun to form as work hours crawled to an end and people crawled to their haunts to celebrate their daily grind. His gaze skipped briefly over the arrival of some new dark haired woman all in leather, nothing particularly demanding of his attention. Instead his eyes settled on a group - a very loud group - that seemed to be entertaining the arrival of some friend or another. Or maybe he was a complete stranger, just capable of espousing enthusiasm from those around him. Truthfully, Spencer despised those types of people. They were so loud and demanding of attention, so unable to simply let someone be. He observed the group a moment longer before letting his eyes drift back to his table and drink, lifting the cigarette for a final drag before stubbing it out in the ashtray.

Holding the smoke in his lungs, letting that uncomfortable burn roil in his chest, before he slowly exhaled it. Perhaps he would start a new business. But what? While some ridiculous holistic store would certainly make it easy to push his products - even the less savoury ones - it just seemed so... God, if he did that he would have to deal with the younger generation and their idealistic beliefs and insufferable veganism or worse - he would have to deal with people in their middle age crisis wanting a cure for their wrinkles and the fact that they were aging. No, no he would rather let Askaree eat his arm than deal with that on a daily basis. Tapping another cigarette out, Spencer lit it up with a scowl over.

His eyes skimmed the crowd again, a habit instilled through slight paranoia. It wasn't like Spencer didn't have his reasons for needing to be cautious of his surroundings, but he may be a little overly cautious at times. Ironic that the times he seemed the most paranoid were the times he needed it the least. He was here for a simple drink and nothing had happened in the time he had been here yet, look at him. Both miserably bored and paranoid that someone was going to destroy his night. Then again that did seem to be the norm for him. Quiet night, who she? He pinched the butt of the cigarette between his teeth lightly, slightly bouncing it absent-mindedly as his eyes skimmed the crowd, noting the dark haired leather clad woman from a few minutes ago had drifted back outside. Hm, seemed she had met - or made - a friend. He watched for a moment, silently noting she didn't seem too thrilled about her 'friend' but that was hardly his problem or concern. He wasn't about to involve himself over someone he didn't know. So, he returned to slowly smoking (or really just letting it slowly burn down) his cigarette, sip his drink and lose himself back to his thoughts while staring at absolutely nothing in particular.

He could be completely cliché and open a gardening store but... Jesus that sounded tedious. Having to field questions day in and out from idiots who were only going to successfully murder the plants he sold them or persons who would have the damn audacity to tell him that his plants were unhealthy - HA. Like any fucking foliage in his vicinity would be unhealthy when he simply had to give it a small burst of magic. So, yes, it would certainly be the easiest for him but, truthfully, he had enough of doing that sort of work at his home. And, unlike a gardening store, he actually liked his plants at home (especially since most of them could kill a man six ways to Sunday). They were useful.

Interrupted from his thoughts at the sound of the chair being pulled back then watching as someone he didn't know collapsed heavily into said chair... Spencer stared at her, not bothering to hide the mild annoyance of having been interrupted from his own thoughts. He studied her the same as she did him, vaguely curious about this turn of events, especially as he realised that it was the woman he had noticed once or twice now. Spencer noticed the distaste in her look as she glanced toward the cigarette in his hold.

Rather than say anything in return to her little 'hey', he tipped his head slightly in greeting, still just quietly observing her and trying to figure why she had invaded his little table. He had picked this because it was partially out of the way, more likely to get people to leave him alone. It had been working, until her. While he typically didn't do so, he pushed ever so slightly with his magic - ah. Were. His... favourite.

Then she spoke again, his brow lifting in surprise at her bluntness. Spencer stared at her for a moment, clearly caught off guard, then a short chuckle slipped out. Well, that was unexpected. "I think that's the first time." He shrugged, reaching over to put out the rest of the cigarette. It may have seemed a waste to stub out half the cigarette and discard it in the ashtray but he wasn't really committed to the habit or the nicotine. At least not yet. Still, his new table companion seemed to dislike it so he would humour her for now. His eyes flicked over her shoulder to see what had happened with her 'friend' and to gauge whether he was about to have a problem on his hands. Hm, no, it seemed the other was... busy.

"I hardly think you're in a position to judge considering you arrive and not ten minutes later..." Spencer gestured vaguely in the direction of the brewing fight, eyebrow arched pointedly at her as though to say 'I know that was you'. He picked up his glass, taking a quick sip before placing it in front of him and twirling it slowly, leaning further back in his chair, slight smirk teasing the corner of his mouth. "So, is this one of those 'misery loves company' or are you here to tell me it gets better?"

single | warlock | notes: