Artemis Caine Arden: Don't get snippy with me! Take it out on them…
Caiohme made a high-pitched sort of a noise that vaguely resembled a scoff. The fact that Artemis, himself, was not around to hear it made little difference, and all she received for the effort was a passive glance from the cab driver in the mirror. She felt better for it.
Caoihme Delaney Arden: YES! Yes they are!
Caoihme Delaney Arden: I'm getting out of the cab right now.
Caoihme Delaney Arden: Hurry? I guess. Not that there is an immediate solution.
She wasn't sure why she bothered to waste time typing back to him. Likely, because she did not have a plan of attack, as one would call it. As Artemis had warned, Adon was indeed Adon and she couldn't think of what his response to being interrupted might be without her stomach turning.
She dropped a few twenty dollar bills over the cab driver's shoulder. If he protested to the Watcher's lack-luster attitude she did not hear, because she'd already grabbed her briefcase and slid out of the vehicle. "Keep the change," she commands as she slams the car door and turned to approach the tea house. Downy wings unseen in the flesh lands lashed out in irritation behind her. Feathers decorated with an ombré of greens and blues that resembled a peacock settled against her back.
Her heels were noisy on the walkway, announcing her determined approach as she ascended the stairs. She couldn't be bothered to take in the scenery, lovely as it was, with such a pressing matter at hand.
Pulling open the door, she was dismayed to find herself not in presence of her charge, but someone she did not recognize.
She was visibly taken aback, lips rounding into a silent 'oh' as she stopped in the doorway. Despite the tea house being open to the public it was rarely occupied by someone she didn't recognize at the very least. Her briefcase changed hands, and she used the free one to smooth pieces of hair back into the intricate braid. "Can I help you with something?" she inquired to the red-haired woman. Her tone held an authority that came naturally, but did not resemble that of an employee. Not that Caoihme at all looked the part of a server.
Caiohme made a high-pitched sort of a noise that vaguely resembled a scoff. The fact that Artemis, himself, was not around to hear it made little difference, and all she received for the effort was a passive glance from the cab driver in the mirror. She felt better for it.
Caoihme Delaney Arden: YES! Yes they are!
Caoihme Delaney Arden: I'm getting out of the cab right now.
Caoihme Delaney Arden: Hurry? I guess. Not that there is an immediate solution.
She wasn't sure why she bothered to waste time typing back to him. Likely, because she did not have a plan of attack, as one would call it. As Artemis had warned, Adon was indeed Adon and she couldn't think of what his response to being interrupted might be without her stomach turning.
She dropped a few twenty dollar bills over the cab driver's shoulder. If he protested to the Watcher's lack-luster attitude she did not hear, because she'd already grabbed her briefcase and slid out of the vehicle. "Keep the change," she commands as she slams the car door and turned to approach the tea house. Downy wings unseen in the flesh lands lashed out in irritation behind her. Feathers decorated with an ombré of greens and blues that resembled a peacock settled against her back.
Her heels were noisy on the walkway, announcing her determined approach as she ascended the stairs. She couldn't be bothered to take in the scenery, lovely as it was, with such a pressing matter at hand.
Pulling open the door, she was dismayed to find herself not in presence of her charge, but someone she did not recognize.
She was visibly taken aback, lips rounding into a silent 'oh' as she stopped in the doorway. Despite the tea house being open to the public it was rarely occupied by someone she didn't recognize at the very least. Her briefcase changed hands, and she used the free one to smooth pieces of hair back into the intricate braid. "Can I help you with something?" she inquired to the red-haired woman. Her tone held an authority that came naturally, but did not resemble that of an employee. Not that Caoihme at all looked the part of a server.
I fear no fate (for you are my fate, my sweet) I want no world (for beautiful you are my world, my true) and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant and whatever a sun will always sing is you.
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