I've sailed a thousand oceans to be here in your arms.

Sly spoke with the confidence of a con artist... Oh, or was that bike chef? Was that the right terminology for the warlock? Brennan truly should have let him go and cut his losses. Yet the young warlock damned himself with his far too amusing lie that only made Brennan wish to see this through. To the bitter, miserable end. Just how wild would that tangled tale would become? To say he was messing with him, was perhaps an understatement. How certain, there was a moment where Brennan thought her had him! That moment when the delivery man stammered for the first time. How good he was up until that very point. How much easier it would be for the man to simply come clean? Surely honesty and a replacement was the way to go all along and yet how interesting he was to defy the mundane for something more.. interesting. Something a little more. Although the real travesty here was Brennan's food. It was all too worrisome. A sigh of defeat perhaps, escaped the other warlock made Brennan wonder if he was finally willing to break beneath the pressure of a man that knew a fellow swindler when he saw one.

The Irish warlock anticipated the words of defeat, practically rehearsing his own smug lines in his head before an easy grin found his ubereats delivery man that said this was not over. In fact, he said he stood by his food? How hard was it to simply admit that the food was no good? Brennan's silvery blue gaze met those blue eyes. "A man with confidence in his own product, even when it looked like it was caught on fire.. How... rare." He paused, trying to keep that amused expression from betraying his know how. Alright, he would play. Eventually he would be caught. He knew it. It was only a matter of time. Surely, he was aware of this.

Brennan easily manipulated those words to craft them into a wager of some kind. As if somehow finding an opportunity, like he did in most situations that fell into his lap. How sad that it was that his stomach that would not benefit from it. But how convenient it would be to have someone indebted to him. It was almost worth the temporary hunger. Maybe. Honestly, he was almost surprised that the man even agreed to come aboard with little hesitation. The roguish warlock was certain he personally would not have even gone so far.

It was then Brennan offered that word of warning, of course only spoken casually as if he were merely speaking of the weather. Yet the man seemed to snag onto that meaning, assuming that Brennan was worried that the man would mug him! Him!? He could not contain that thorough hearty laughter that practically bellowed out of him as if he could not help but find that statement hilarious! Oh, he liked him. He had some moxie. "Who said anything about mugging, my lad? You have a sense of humour! I meant bolting. You have that look about you and Barneyboy over here likes to chase. I was only concerned for your wellbeing." His tone was persuasive. Who said he couldn't be considerate? Even though there was more than one thing he was keeping concealed. Yet it was something that Sly said at the end that made the Irishman raise a curious brow. He thinks he could have taken money from him without his knowing? Such confidence. He had no idea with who he contended with, did he? He had to have some idea. Maybe not.

Yet it was then that he ran through his blonde locks as if to amend his words. Really now? A flawless record from some organization that Brennan was certain that he made up. "A flawless record eh? I do not doubt this one bit." A short pause before the warlock brushed over to what held his true attention. While he was sure that a flawless record would not include robbing clients, would it? But he supposed a good thief would be able to steal without the other being even being aware of it. A roguish grin caused his lips to curl, his silvery blue eyes ignited with a hint of genuine curiosity. How in that moment the light seemed to hit his face just so, to reveal the scar just below his eye. The very scar that if a few inches higher would have made him look like even more of a pirate if he lost it.

Brennan waited for the swindler to climb aboard, following after him, hoisting himself onto his wooden sailboat with practiced ease. He was all too accustomed to the welcoming sway of the ocean that cradled his April Rose. The delivery man seemed confused as to where to go, his natural inclination was to go below deck. Where all those ancient books were simply sprawled about that table below in his efforts to find a way out of his current impossible predicament.

"No, not down there, I have too much.... research. Right here. Yeah. I prefer the fresh sea air." He gestured, to a table that folded up. Convenient a thing was when docked, inconvenient when sailing. He moved to lock the wooden table in its upright position, with the two sides unfolded it made quite a decent sized table. Barney watched quietly, his intelligent eyes observing every last detail. He almost looked more menacing when quiet like at any moment the dog might spring forth even though he had been glamoured to look far more friendly in nature. His brown eyes held a certain calculation that no mere dog usually possessed. He watched as the other warlock placed the oversized hooded silver platter on the varnished surface of that table. "Here, take a seat." He gestured toward the cushioned seat across from himself and Barney with an idle flick of his wrist.

Brennan lowered to settle into his seat, his eyes gleaming even in the dimly lit cockpit. "So tell me. How would you 'just take' my money? Forget your.... People of delivery association which we both know is a lie." In fact, Brennan seemed far more amused with that particular tale over the sad state of his fish and chips even as he leaned forward to reach and remove the lid. The moment the lid was swiftly taken away, the trapped dark plumes of smoke broke free. That didn't look good at all. Brennan cleared his throat, placing the lid to the side, no concern found his face even as the trapped smoke slowly dissipated into the sea air, waving it on to simply aid in its dispersion. Fortunately for Sly, he did mind a smokey taste.

Brennan O'Connell

a smooth sea never made a skilled sailor