Harley's soft utterance that Tiger Woods career might yet be in jeopardy when compared to Sly's own less than stellar golfing efforts prompted a soft sound of amusement from the blond's lips as he made that final shot. It was, admittedly, not his greatest work and yet, it was hardly his worst either. That ball, finally, made it into the hole despite the plethora of plastic farm animals determined to stop it. That very success, however, had earned him a far more valuable prize than merely guiding that little ball into its hole. Harley's agreement to share something about herself was a far more rewarding incentive. The Romanian content to stride back to his companion then with a clear look of expectation. After all, they had a deal. Sly leaned easily againsts his putter once more. The blond lifted one eye in a silent gesture for her to go ahead, his blue gaze easily resting on her own. The woman seemed to consider her words for a few moments before revealing her apparent love for classic cars- especially the one she had been working on with her late Father. A car she had gone to the trouble of naming. The name 'omen' and its...meaning was hardly lost upon the warlock. If nothing else Harley hardly seemed to shy away from inviting chaos into her life. That very notion was enough to prompt a simper to the man's lips. That beloved car, however, seemed inclined to hang permanently upon the proverbial edge- threatening to break down at any moment. Old parts, as Harley said, were not that easy to find let alone restore. The car was running, for now, though for how long remained to be seen.

That very offer to help her with her car readily found itself upon the ROmanian's tongue and yet, for now at least, Sly managed to swallow back those words. Omen seemed...personal. In the very least it seemed the sort of thing Harley might not appreciate a relative stranger offering to be involved in. The first date, Sly decided, probably too soon to attempt to involve himself in something that clearly meant a great deal to her. Maybe that was more a second date offer. Sly frowned ever so slightly at that contemplation before Harley continued. The young woman insisted someone had suggested the strip that car for parts- or sell it to anyone interested and yet she had adamantly refused. Harley was sure it could be on its last wheel and she still wouldn't let it go. A soft chuckle hummed lightly within the Romanian's throat. That sound nothing short of good-natured before his shoulders lifted in a shrug.

"If you want to keep it then I don't see why you shouldn't. Omen is your business and nobody else's. Beside's, a car isn't hurting anyone. I might be able to help with some parts sometime if you need though. I know some places."

It was a...small offer. Sly eyeing the young woman in an effort to gauge how willing she might be to let him help with that car before he offered anything more. Parts, after all, were doable. How legal those parts were that he knew how to access was perhaps debatable and yet- Harley hardly needed to know that. He'd spent enough time down at the western docks doing odd, cash only jobs that he'd met enough of the right sort of people for accessing hard to find car parts. Offering a bit of extra labor on his part would surely be enough to pay for them. That thought for now, at least, was tucked into the back of the warlock's mind as Harley took her own shot. The woman took that moment to announce she also played guitar. Sly felt both eyes lift slightly in clear curiosity, the man querying whether or not she was in a band before her head shook. She had been, once, but not currently. Even though she still sang and played- mostly in the shower. Well, for the singing at least. Her near blunt assurance that she had made the decision that playing (and swordplay) were both better left outside the shower prompted an abrupt snort of amusement from the Gypsy.

"Look, that's probably for the better. You....really beat up your shower the last time."

That, Sly was certain, was probably....the weirdest thing he'd ever seen in a shower and that was saying something. The warlock's head shook lightly as his gaze shifted back to the little ball Harley was determined to guide around the course. The woman managed to make that farm-based shot in the agreed upon four. Only to declare that if she played any better he was going to have to be her arm candy. A simper of amusement easily found his features then, one eye lifting again in a distinctly teasing fashion

"I wouldn't say no to it, I'm comfortable enough with my masculinity to be arm candy."

Harley, however, was equally determined to insist he hold up his end of their bargain. The warlock agreed to show her some of his street show after they left tonight- Sly making his way over to the next hole then to continue with their game. The warlock certain those themed arena's were becoming more and more ridiculous with every hole. Along with what he was fairly certain was racial.....well.....racist. Mostly to the entire nation of Ireland.Niether of them, it seemed, held any talent for water-based golfing. Harley at least feared far better in that dinosaur land then Sly himself. The warlock was inclined to admit that it was possible that miniature golf wasn't his strongest talent and yet, hey, at least Harley might remember that date compared to the plethora of others he was sure she had been on. Girls who looked like her, after all, weren't usually short of dates. Sly at least made an effort to make this one somewhat memorable for something other than him repairing her shower when they got back to her house. Sly easily fell into step beside his companion then as they made their way back to the front of the golf center- the warlock querying after who had won that game. Both of them, he was certain, had fared equally well or...equally badly depending on which hole on that course one decided to reference. Paris, Harley insisted, had fared almost equally as badly as Ireland. The appearance of a giant baguette once more enforcing those racial stereotypes that seemed to be the veritable staple of this place. Sly's query on who she thought had won, however, was an opportunity the raven-haired woman hardly seemed inclined to miss as she declared she was, in fact, certain that she had won. Sly hardly surprised she had taken that opening and yet it was far more...polite, he was certain, to let his date win that evening. Regardless of the true score. The pair stepped out into the cool evening air as Harley insisted she had gained bonus points for pointing out the woman who had complained about Mihai.

An easy grin found Sly's features once more, the warlock chuckling softly as Mihai shifted abruptly into a bird, taking flight into the sky above them to make the most of the evening breeze.

"Honestly, I'm almost used to it now. People complain about Mihai all the time but familiars have the same rights as Guide Dogs and Service Animals. The fact he's made out of fire kinda throws people sometimes though. Especially when they think he really will burn them."

That very notion, after all, was one Sly had faced since he'd been a child. People either found Mihai enchanting, or they found him terrifying. With very little in between. Sly easily moved to nod toward the parkland then- and it's vastly open, if not entirely dark spaces. The pathway was illuminated by several small, spaced out street lights.

"Come on, I promised to show you some of what I do. The park over there should be big enough I think. You still want to see right?"

Sly easily moved to step toward that park then, the warlock waiting for Harley to find that place at his side they passed through those park gates. The once bright grass and trees and flowerbeds had become entirely shadowy in the darkness and yet that was all the better for his own performance. Sly paused abruptly upon that small path, the warlock eyeing that space around them thoughtful before pointing toward a park bench beside a small lamp.

"I think, if you sit there, I should be able to do what I need just there in front of you on that big open patch of grass. It's a little impromptu but I can make it work."

Sly paused then, waiting only so long as it took Harley to make her way over to that bench and settle herself. The warlock easily took up a place in front of her on the grass. It had been a damn long time since he'd done a show for just one person. Longer still since he'd....cared what that person thought. The warlock's gaze shifted upward then, eyeing Mihai above him if only to assure his familiar was ready before a sudden shake of his hands saw those flames erupt into life at his fingertips. A knowing simper found his lips then as he eyes Harley upon the bench.

"Which of my shows do you want to see, The Lion and The Unicorn, The Tale of Balaur or The Myth of Pricolici? Spoiler warning, the last one involves vampires which I know isn't your favorite- it's a bloody good story though. Pun entirely intended."

sly.