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The City had succumbed to absolute chaos over the last few months; which at first, to the Nephilim was absolutely, without a doubt, entertaining. There were many times that she found the city to be somewhat sleepy if she took away the drama which surrounded The Bradford siblings with their Father as well as the trouble that she often found Siobhan in. Those moments of down time were usually welcomed, but as of late, things in her own life seemed somewhat normal, thus, the chaos which erupted in the city was just what the doctor ordered. It gave the ex-assassin reason to get herself into fights, and get away with it if her Detective Sister questioned her once again why her knuckles were battered and bruised. Not only did this give her a form of entertainment, it also served her as a distraction; many would not believe that she had allowed herself to open up to a guy, yet she had - only for him to disappear from the face of the earth, like a few before him. So, it was so surprise, at least to her, that she needed to keep herself occupied so she could stop her thoughts from venturing to her terrible love life. However, there were only so many fights she could get into, without that getting boring; after all, she had spent most of her life in battle, or maybe, she was simply growing up.
Once Rissa had completed her good deed of the day - cleaning up the messes of the latest violent breakout, she couldn't think of any better reward than the local bar to drink herself into a state of oblivion which would consequently help her sleep at night. The Nephilim placed herself at the corner of the bar, and insisted that the barman kept an open tab for her considering it was still very early in the evening and she had nothing planned for the following day. With the beer in hand, she eagerly took a very needed swig which triggered a pleasurable sigh to bypass her lips. The barman began to make small talk with her, which under any normal circumstance, she would have hated yet for some peculiar reason, the chat was welcomed even if she had no interest in the conversation or the latest gossip of who went home with who from the bar last night. With that in mind, she playfully placed a series of bets with the man behind the bar on who would be next to leave with another; and it was safe to say that her name never made the list of potentials which pleased her despite many trying their luck over the last few years of her frequenting the bar.
The hours passed fairly quickly, in fact, they passed just as quickly as the beers in her hand did; in fact, she even surprised herself just how quickly she knocked back the alcohol - clearly something was bothering her and, as normal, she was not ready to face the problem head on. Avoidance was key. Clarissa began to slump on the stool, her spine arching as she rested her arms on the bar, and then her cheek on her forearms; the bar man insisted she should head home which consequently lead to her snapping a quick 'no' his direction - she was not ready to face her thoughts alone, not yet. Her lavender coloured eyes closed contently as she listened to the buzz around her; from the music, to people simply enjoying themselves but none of those were enough to completely catch her attention until one particular voice spoke above the music to order their next round. The Nephilim forwarded her brow before lifting her head - her gaze trying to adjust into focus at the male who stood a few stools down from her.
Wyatt Brookes? No way, it couldn't be - it definitely had to be her beer goggles playing tricks on her mind. Confused and rather baffled were the only words which could be used to describe her expression as she looked over at the male; yet the moment she found him catching her stare, she quickly and rather unsteadily composed herself to focus on the beer bottle in her hand. "You know it's rude to stare?" She slurred ever so slightly but loud enough for the male to hear her; it was him, it was definitely him and to not give him the satisfaction that she could remember him, she would play aloof and dumb to his being.
Wyatt's fingers slipped into the woman's hand he had been dancing with and twirled her around while she followed his lead, stumbling into his chest and laughing as the alcohol had clearly been the one who was in control over her now. The diviner smiled and caught the eye of his friend Mike from across the bar as he stayed at the standing table with the rest of the people they had gone out with that night. Mike gave him a thumbs up to which Wyatt rolled his hues back, still refusing to allow the man to continue trying to hook him up with the blonde he was currently attempting to keep standing upright. It seemed to be pointless though, as it was now a tag team effort between Mike and his girlfriend to ensure he was leaving with her. "Wyatt, can you grab us two more?" Abigail asked as she yelled above the music, both her hands against his chest while leaning on him for support.
Wyatt nodded and helped the wobbling young woman back over to their group with some relief to be separated from her. He let out an exasperated sigh while pushing his way through the herd of people that was now filled in the bar. They had been there for a short time, but that was what happened once 10pm came around in Evermore. The downtown city life would light up and every establishment with music and alcohol would be jam packed to capacity with people out to have a good time.
He pulled his worn, leather wallet from the back pocket of his jeans and ordered another round, though he was certain that it would be him finishing both as it was obvious that Abigail would no longer be standing of her own accord if she were to consume much more. Wyatt turned around and put his back to the bar to watch the mass of people dancing and socializing. It wasn't that he enjoyed this kind of environment, but more so that he finally had said yes to the constant invitation he received every weekend to go out when most nights he had had his head deep in the spellbooks and grimoires he'd been obtaining around the world in his newest obsession to gather ancient magic. Wyatt had hit a wall. Translations were becoming harder and all of the words and symbols had started to mix together in his head until his frustrations had led him to grab a bottle of whiskey and toss his work in a shower of papers across his home. In a last ditch effort at unwinding, he had finally answered his phone when Mike had called for the third time to get him out of the house.
His green hues came back around to the people crowding the bar when he suddenly thought he saw a familiar face. His features scrunched together in confusion and concentration, the bartender calling for his attention. Grabbing the two fresh drinks and taking a sip from one of the glasses, Wyatt looked back again and was sure it was her this time as one of the colorful lights passed around the bar and moved over her face. The confirmation was only cemented when her candid remark made him smirk with a drop of his head. He nodded before looking back to the nephilim he hadn't seen in a while. Clarissa Bradford. Wyatt inched his way closer, stepping between the man who sat beside her in the barstool, leaving them rather close.
His gaze fell over her slowly. He knew her well enough to know when she was intoxicated as their past together had been very specific. Wyatt had been hired by the striking raven haired woman to fly her numerous places for undisclosed reasons. This had been during a time when he hadn't cared much to know what his employer was doing in the locations he would fly them to and with Clarissa, it was the same. However, he couldn't help but be intrigued as was every man who came in contact with her. Most nights in these places that lead them around the world, Wyatt would find himself at the hotel bar while Clarissa was off on 'business'. Some of these long nights would lead to her bringing men to the hotel with her and he would watch from across the bar as she played them all like fools. He had tried to make many internal guesses as to what her occupation really was, but always pushed the thoughts away as getting too close meant knowing too much. His employment was just to fly her wherever she asked and that was as far as his purpose went.
The two had heavily flirted, but the ending was always the same. He would go to his room and she would go to hers when their nights of drinking would end. It was something of a cat and mouse game and he had the feeling she enjoyed that. It would be a lie to say that he didn't as well. So as she sat here, pretending to not know him, Wyatt only fell into that role once more where he seemed to always play the mouse. Either that or she really had forgotten him among the many other men she used in her life. "Ms. Bradford," he said, setting one of the drinks down on the bartop and completely forgetting about the other people he had come to the bar with. "It's been some time. You haven't called for my employment in a long time. I hope you haven't found someone else to fly you around."
Why she even frequented this bar on so many occasions was beyond her - there was nothing particularly special about the place, and the people that often found themselves within the walls of the bar were nothing special; including herself. Yet here she was, almost night after night sitting in the same location with the same type of beer in hand; if she had to guess, she would say she would only come here for familiarity. Either way, the often she sat here alone, the more thought went into taking that job within the police force of being Head of Intelligence; it would give her purpose and a reason to actually leave her bed in the morning, plus it would also mean she could still get herself into sticky situations which would satisfy her need for trouble. But those very thoughts were long gone this evening as she nestled into the constant flow of beer and peanuts which resided on the bar beside her. They were the perfect snacks for watching the multiple of people who began to enter the bar at a rather steady pace; and it was nice to see that some had entered just as, if not, more intoxicated than herself.
Yet it was the moment when her gaze fell upon a ghost of her past that she regretted not taking the barmans advice and leaving only five minutes ago; Rissa understood that Evermore was a beacon for supernatural creatures, but it never came easy when she saw a blast from the past - particularly when it was someone she once had something going on with. Not to mention that there was a very good reason as to why she avoided and ended up ghosting Wyatt Brookes; for in her line of work, to become involved with someone, was not recommended nor the best thing for an Assassin. Simply due to them being easy pickings if someone wished to get revenge on her; yet here he stood, looking right at her as if no time had passed between them. Clarissa took a very discrete inhale as she attempted to compose herself as he continued to engage with her after her comment before she swiveled on her stool to face the Diviner; she plastered a slight smile on her lips in an attempt to seem friendly but he would see right through that and that bothered her greatly - that someone could understand her more than herself at times.
As his words spoke over the music and other sounds of the bar, it took every ounce of restraint not to think back to the many trips they took together; the trouble and drama they found themselves in on her missions as well as the many flirting games they played together. Rissa refused to think of another could have been. Digits ran through the lengths of her raven coloured hair and pulled it up into a high ponytail before, without asking taking the drink that he had placed down for herself; not at all bothered if the drink was intended for someone else. She quirked a brow at his greeting of Ms. Bradford, how very formal - yet she couldn't deny it felt good to still seem a little superior even though that was and never would be the case. "I'm sorry? Do I know you?" She replied with a confused tilt of her head; Rissa kept this confusion plastered upon her countenance for a little while longer before a laugh erupted from her vocals. Clearly the alcohol in her system would not allow her to play him that way, which was a shame.
"I became my own pilot, you see" She teased, and brought the glass up to her lips; taking sip of the alcohol which was a lot stronger than the beer she had been befriending all night - her body visibly shuddered at the taste. "You forget my wings will always be my favourite mode of transport" She exhaled softly, knowing that she hardly ever used them unless absolutely necessary. "I left the job, so unfortunately I no longer had use for a personal pilot" Rissa dropped a wink his way before turning to look over her shoulder at the sound of a woman shouting his name; the sight of the drunk woman caused the nephilim to shake her head - at least she was never that needy even when intoxicated. "I think your girlfriend is getting jealous" She cooed as she glanced between the two. "I never took you as one to like blondes, I'll be damned" Clarissa mocked in surprise, leaning into the bar for some moral support.
Wyatt's gaze stayed glued to her as she somehow always commanded attention that he couldn't pull away from. He had never seen her in an environment like this before. Outside of 'work'. It was unfamiliar and oddly seemed out of place for her to be in such surroundings. Under their employment, he had brought her to places where she would be entertaining someone in the fanciest of hotels. To do whatever it was she did that had him always guessing and being afraid of what the answer may be. She would be donned in the most expensive dresses that made her fit in with the rest of the snobbish rich around while he mostly wore the same few suits that were required of him as her pilot. Needless to say, seeing her here now in a bar with the rowdy citizens of Evermore and no facade of luxury was jarring, but revealing. Perhaps she had a bit of normality in her after all.
It was surprising to hear that Clarissa was no longer employed with this Organisation. She had always seemed so dedicated to these assignments she was given, whatever their purpose being. Again, he liked to play naive despite the small voice in the back of his head that told him whatever it was she did, it wasn't exactly on the right side of good. "Well, as much of a beauty that my plane is, I know when I'm beat. There is no competition to your wings, even if I have never had the privilege of seeing them myself," he responded, leaning closer to her in order to be heard above the noise of the bar and to avoid the ears of the people near them.
As he took another sip of the drink in his hand, Wyatt was completely at a loss at the mention of a girlfriend. A look of confusion passed over his face until he followed her gaze over to the friends he'd totally forgotten he was there with. "Oh.. right." He gave an uneasy smile to Abigail who looked somewhat hurt as he angled his body towards the nephilim again. "Not my girlfriend. Rather, a blind date I didn't know I was being set up on." Eyes rolling, he drank deeply of the whiskey again and smirked coyly as he looked into the almost empty glass. "And don't worry; Still partial to brunettes." He glanced sideways at her with a grin before downing the rest of the drink and placing the glass on the bar top. It was like old times again.
Wyatt wasn't sure if he should pursue the fact that she was no longer working under their mutual employer, but with all the mystery surrounding their arrangement, he couldn't help but inquire. He didn't know much about the Organisation. He didn't know much about her. Only that they paid well to not ask questions and fly to wherever he was asked. They hadn't called on him in a while and he was somewhat relieved since he was trying to keep legit when it came to making money. The photography business paid well during the busy months, but nothing compared to the large sums of money he would get on one of these jobs the Organisation would offer him when the off-season came around in the colder seasons. "So, what happened?" The diviner turned around and placed his back against the bar in the tight space they were currently occupying. Something told him there was a reason she was drinking so heavily, alone, and in a place like this. "Why did you end up leaving?"
It had only been a few moments since they greeted each other, and it had surprised her just how normal it felt - how quickly that they had fallen back into the same vibe that they once shared all those years ago; it was like time had never been an issue, and that they had only saw each other the other day. That whole concept comforted her as well as sent a shiver of worry down the length of her spine, there had been times where she saw him as nothing more than an employee, someone in her service but then, there were times when she craved more than that - to bring him in to her inner circle, not to necessarily tell him what she did for a living; but perhaps to have someone to rely on when things got tough. To allow someone to see the vulnerable side to her, yet that was never meant to be, it was always safer to keep him at arm's length; thus being back in this situation was going to be tricky for her - she remembered how stubborn and persistent he could be and she always had the Organisation to fall back on, but to live in this small City, and to be unemployed, she was in a zone of uncertainty. Clarissa shook her head, to rid her mind of the series of thoughts which were triggered the moment she noted just how close they were; she swallowed roughly to compose herself.
“You still have the same plane?” She queried with a very slight tilt of her head as she shifted in her seat, bringing one leg over the other; a brief exhale of bemusement bypassed her lips. “Not many people have seen them. They only appear when absolutely necessary” Rissa responded before grinning widely as he scrambled for words as he processed the concept that his girlfriend was not happy. Her brows pushed upwards as she glanced between the two, the glass was brought up to her lips in an attempt to hide the widening grin which continued to grow at his uneasiness. “Seems she is already quite smitten, I think I can already hear her heart breaking” She cooed softly, her glance liggering upon the blonde woman who began to get flustered as Wyatt turned his body towards her once again before turning her attention back to him. “I am glad to hear, or else my heart would be breaking too” She tssk’d under her breath, refusing to acknowledge that she was rather enjoying how they slotted back into old times.
Rissa rolled her lips in hesitation but more importantly in thought - she knew the question would come up, but she did not guess it would come up so quickly; perhaps she even believed that this would be a one off reunion and thus, could avoid such a question. She glanced down to the glass in her lap, her finger running along the very rim as she processed the answer - she wasn’t yet ready to admit to him what or who she was; which she found bizarre, more often than not, she was quite proud of what her former life was. Yet the question which he posed definitely allowed her to avoid that one, for now - he simply wanted to know why she left. A laugh eventually rolled from the tip of her tongue as her gaze lifted upward to him. “Do you remember Isaiah?” She questioned. “You know, the loner boy, slightly weird and had very violent tendencies?” Clarissa waited for a few moments before dropping the bombshell upon him. “Well, it turns out, he is my Twin brother and we have family who live in this very city” She lifted the glass upward in a slight toast before necking the rest of the liquid. “So here I am, playing happy families for a change.” Once the shudder had calmed from the sharp liquid, she turned the question back to him. “And why are you here, Pilot?” She smirked some.
He couldn't help but smile in return when seeing the one which graced her face now. The genuine one she held now was so different than the one she put out for others to see as he recalled the nights he'd watch her playing other men like fools. It was a glimpse behind the mask he knew she kept up for the world to see and it made him feel like maybe he might be getting a peek behind the facade. It added more to her allure which he didn't think was even possible, but then again Clarissa always seemed to surprise him with every minute detail he was able to find out when she decided to open up to him just for a small and fleeting moment after the job was over and it was just the two of them sitting at a quiet, random bar, somewhere in the world.
The bartender motioned his head in a silent way to ask if he wanted another drink to which Wyatt quickly nodded in answer by putting up two fingers before bringing his attention back to the angel. He listened to her explanation of why she would be in a busy bar like this one, among all the rowdy people of Evermore. He of course knew exactly who she spoke of when speaking the name. It was hard to miss Isaiah. Not that he was some outgoing personality, but exactly the opposite. Wyatt remembered a certain time he had inadvertently knocked into him by the hanger of the Organisation and he thought for a moment that he would lose his head right there on the spot. Never had he seen a colder expression than the one donned by the dark-haired man. Now that he looked upon Clarissa's face and thought back to Isaiah, he could see the likeness in the siblings. It made him wonder how the two of them being a part of the Organisation couldn't be a coincidence by any stretch of the means, but decided that that line of questioning would be better suited for another time. Especially when happy, families, and Isaiah were in the same sentence.
As the two glasses were set down in front of them, he motioned for her to feel free and take the second drink. Wyatt took a sip of the whiskey and breathed out a bit as she asked him why he was at the bar himself. It wasn't really his scene either as she might've recalled. "Remember when I told you I was doing more dabbling into dark diviner magic?" His gaze went from hers and to the alcohol as he spoke, slowly spinning the glass in his hands as he leaned against the bar. "Well, it's become a bit of an obsession lately. The coven in town is always looking to become stronger as a unit, so I've been doing a lot of research about covens of the past. Trying to see if there were fae and necromancers that were able to do both light and dark magic simultaneously like we are able to do now. There always seems to be a pattern of comets falling and diviners gaining new or changed abilities. I've been trying to trace some of this history down from around the world." His excited eyes met hers again and he smirked a little embarrassed. When speaking about this subject, he could ramble for hours. "Anyway... I've kind of hit a wall on some of the translations I've found and was in need of a break. I'd thought about going for a run until my friend Mike," he glanced over his shoulder and saw the group talking among themselves, but noticing how Abigail was still looking to them, "decided to guilt me into coming out tonight. I hadn't realized that also meant I would be getting set up with someone at the same time." Wyatt groaned slightly with a shake of his head, drinking more of the whiskey and chuckling at the whole situation. "I'd say I'd wish I had gone running instead, but then I wouldn't have bumped into you tonight." There was a warm buzz flowing through him now and he wasn't sure what he was thinking with the words that came out next, but future him would say it was the liquid courage that made him so brave. Usually the phrase held a certain context, but to Wyatt it was more because he wanted to steal time with her, away from the noise of the bar and its patrons. "Do you want to get out here?"
Despite the fact that it felt like they fell into their normal routine, that time made no difference to how they behaved with one another, Clarissa would be naive to think that he hadn't changed since the last time he graced her with his presence; after all, and never mind not wanting to truly accept it herself, she knew she had changed dramatically - therefore it was a given that he had done too. Rissa wondered if it was noticeable, her change and if anyone were to notice, other than Isaiah, it would most likely be Wyatt himself; she had spent a lot of her time with him throughout their travels - he had seen her at her worst, and that wasn't just the morning after a heavy night drinking. Therefore, she was absolutely adamant that he could see the change in her; perhaps her smile was now more genuine, her words were no longer as venon coated as before - she knew she used to speak to him terribly at times, when she wasn't flirting with him. Yet, as she looked up at him through a somewhat dizzy lens, not much seemed to have changed for him - even how he dressed seemed relatively normal and certainly how he regarded was the same; it was with genuine and full interest, she could always tell he was paying full attention to her when she spoke, even when in a crowded room.
Clarissa watched in silence as he thought back to who Isaiah was - of course it didn't take long, Izzy had this effect on people which caused them to remember him; if he allowed them to live. It did, however, surprise her that Wyatt didn't elaborate on her confession as she knew she would have many questions about it; from how two and two were never put together sooner to the very uncanny resemblance they had. Yet, from what she could remember of Wyatt, he was always polite and never truly wanted to push his luck with her always and perhaps realised her personal life and relationships with others was somewhat of a touchy subject for her; and now being in Evermore, her relationships became even more complicated and as much as she secretly loved having friends and a family - she also didn't enjoy the vulnerability it gave her. Rissa was eventually pulled from her thoughts as the barman placed two more drinks down beside them and she unfortunately caught his rather suggestive gaze which was accompanied by one wave of his brow as he cocked his head discreetly in Wyatt's direction; she simply answered with her own glare which unfortunately could not kill as the barman chuckled and walked down the bar.
Clarissa smiled in a thanks as he offered her the second glass and upon taking it, she could feel a pair of very angry eyes boring into her back which gave her so much satisfaction; her smile turned into a smirk as she accepted the glass. "How could I forget, Dark magic is always preferred" Rissa commented, and found it fascinating everytime he had shown her some of his work on their travels; she often found herself envious of the Diviner faction and the power that they held. To see the genuine passion and excitement which fluttered upon his features as he spoke about his work brought warm sensation to find her stomach; she also found it fairly endearing when he realised he was waffling and consequently became somewhat embarrassed. "What have you found out so far? Any abnormal Diviners back in the day?" She laughed through the glass which she brought to her lips. Upon his mentioning of him being set up, she glanced over to his group of friends once again, and she unfortunately could not stop her wrist rolling in a form of a wave their way. "Running or bumping into me, it's really a no brainer" She smirked and quirked a brow at his comment of getting out and away from the thriving bar. "Are you hitting on me, Brookes?" Rissa teased and downed the rest of the whiskey before she made her move, not necessarily waiting for his response as she pushed herself off the stool; she intentionally made sure she squeezed passed him as she stood and grabbed her coat. "Lets go before looks definitely start to kill" She spoke over the music as she lead the two of them through the crowds to finally being welcomed with fresh air.
The fresh air and the alcohol hit her all at once and she had to clench her eyes shut to compose herself; her features wrinkling up some before the world finally stopped spinning for a moment. "They certainly put something in the water this evening, I'm telling you" Rissa muttered as she shrugged into her leather jacket and automatically hooped her arm through his as they faced the quieting streets of Evermore.
Wyatt wasn't sure what he was expecting as her answer. A sly rejection of some sort which she would easily think of, but not in some way to intentionally hurt him. Maybe. There was an unspoken line that separated the two. One in which kept them from being anything more than just flirtatious business partners. Here he was, putting his toe on that line with a single question that he nonchalantly blurted out which silently took him by surprise when the words left his lips. It was like he wasn't playing by their normal rules of the game anymore. Oh, yes, it was definitely the whiskey giving him more confidence than what he would normally do as it was always the same; No matter how much the two may have casually teased each other, they would end the night in separate hotel rooms. Mixing business and pleasure was dangerous, especially in whatever line of work it was that she did. He wasn't naive, but what happens when the work variable is removed from the game? Apparently it was Wyatt thinking that she cared to spend time with him when she wasn't getting paid to do so and she was probably thinking how he was just another silly man that wanted what he couldn't have.
"Are you hitting on me, Brookes?" 'Ummm.. no.. well... Do you want me to?' He tried to think of something as he watched Clarissa quickly swallow the rest of the drink he had offered her. Before he could come up with something, anything, to say, she was out of her stool and grabbing her coat to take towards the exit with an invitation to follow as she brushed against him with what he hoped was thoughtful intention. It seemed the night was full of surprises. The diviner wasn't going to hesitate now as he dropped a few bills on the bartop with a nod to the bartender. Wyatt weaved his way through the mass of bodies which crowded the bar, letting his gaze cross the establishment towards his friends. He mouthed an apology to Mike and Abigail as they watched with dumbfounded looks while he was leaving with a stranger. Pulling his phone from his back pocket, he quickly sent a text to his friend with a vague explanation of catching up with an old coworker.
As they stepped out onto the sidewalk, Wyatt shrugged his leather jacket back on and took a breath in of the cooler outside air. It was a nice change from the cramped feeling of being inside the bar. He chuckled at her statement which he couldn't agree more to. "Yeah, and I thanked the guy inside with a nice tip for doing so." As she linked her arm in his, he felt the angel lean into him slightly which brought back memories of the past. Wyatt had walked her to her room on numerous occasions after their stints at the hotel bars in some chivalrous manner or maybe it was just because it was part of the game. He would take her to her room and they would part ways as they said their goodnights while she leaned on the frame before closing the door. Not that she needed his protection. Despite her being strong enough to put anyone down with the simple use of her nephilim powers, Wyatt knew she could handle herself even if she had been stripped of her supernatural abilities. It was obvious in the confident way she moved.
There was something else that he missed which didn't occur to him until the light breeze that passed over them. The air blew through her dark hair and the delicate scent that he favored of hers moved over him of earth and flowers. It caused his stomach to do a flip. "I missed this," he said with a light chuckle and smirk, causing him to look to the ground as they continued walking. Now he was beginning to think there was truth serum in the whiskey. Wyatt shook his head slightly and looked over to her as a timid smile grew. "I should've called." Although that would be new territory. They never spoke outside of their assignments. Things were different now and so was the game. "After getting enough money to really work on opening my office and studio, I tried to shy away from the Organisation as much as I could. I wanted to keep the business legit and not take money from.. well.. you know." His hues glanced up as they came upon the darkened public park which was void of people besides a few other couples or drunken friends rowdily passing through from the nightclubs and bars. The only lighting came from the overhead streetlamps which shown down as spotlights across the paths every fifteen feet or so. "Though I'd be lying if I said I wasn't still doing some of the illegal fighting rings sometimes. I guess I can't stay away from the adrenaline rush that I need every once in a while. The money isn't too bad either. My cousin says illegal dealings must run in the family." A chuckle escaped from his chest as he looked over to her. "Speaking of family, how is the reunion with your brother? Twin, in fact. That must be quite the shock. You were always pretty hush about your family and I don't mean to pry, but I feel like I might be learning more about the mysterious woman who I enjoyed flying around the world."
The moment the fresh air cruised over her, was the moment when the alcohol truly made an appearance in her system, and she found herself incredibly grateful that she was able to lean upon him for support; of course, such an act definitely brought back memories of the past, and even then, how much she surprised herself each time with how comforted she felt against his side - in fact, just the mere thought back then angered her. Frustrated her even that she even considered such emotions, and now, as she looked back albeit drunkly, she considered the fact that perhaps she had hurt his feelings on occasions with the games she played with him emotionally. With that being said, if that was the case, then he was a bigger man than she was - if someone had played with her emotions in that way, there would be no chance in hell that she would have made her way over to them and buy them a drink. Clarissa shook her head as she glanced down the street, waiting for her gaze to focus; oh how embarrassed she would be in the morning if she continued to fall victim to the alcohol - Wyatt surely wouldn’t let that go for weeks to come if they remained in touch after this evening.
A low laugh bypassed her lips at his reply. “Dare I even ask what kind of tip you gave him?” Rissa glanced upward at him with a quirked brow, her lips curled at one edge before they began to walk up the street, with a slight stagger in their step which likely came from her more so than himself. It was nice to be able to speak to him without having to shout over the other conversations and music within the bar, and indeed it was enjoyable to do so without the woman’s gaze throwing daggers into her back; which was quite ironic considering the dagger was Clarissa’s weapon of choice. Everything felt the same, but oh so different at the same time, and she couldn’t quite put her finger on it - and yes, she was drunk, but that never truly changed her personality and behaviour like it had done tonight. If it had been any other man, she certainly would not have accepted to leave the bar with them, hell, she probably wouldn’t even had entertained them in the bar once she got one free drink from them. So the fact that she agreed to do all of this when it was Wyatt truly baffled her, but perhaps it didn’t annoy her as much as it would have done if she still belonged to The Organisation.
Upon hearing the next two statements, which also seemed a little out of character for him, Clarissa allowed her smirk to simmer down into a genuine smile; it was strangely nice to hear that something about her was missable. She had gone through life without one single person say they had missed her - besides, Siobhan when she ghosted the poor Nephilim after she was shot. Nevertheless, to hear it from someone who experienced her past, and when she was a killer meant something to her, and because of that, she awkwardly nudged his shoulder with her own before going back to softly leaning against him. “You didn’t need to call, I may not even picked up” Rissa confessed, and playfully grimaced at the statement as she caught his eye before turning to face the park which they had found themselves walking towards. “How did you even get out of their hold? They don’t normally let people out… Alive” She questioned, and hoped for his sake that they had genuinely let him go, rather than playing some kind of game on him later down the line. “I would like to see this studio sometime” The mere words shocked her, it gave it away that maybe she did want to see him again after tonight and in that moment, she was glad the area was dimly lit or else he would have definitely noticed the pink blush appear on her cheeks.
“You have a cousin? Here in Evermore? I thought they were all deranged, or dead” That was one thing about Clarissa, she wasn’t scared to bring up the dead topic around anyone, death to her was second nature, and often she found comfort in it whereas others, not so much. Clarissa slowly lead him towards the actual park, steering away from the path and towards the swings; although the alcohol was telling her it was safer for them both to be inside, rather than outside, she was enjoying their conversation too much to be distracted by the awkwardness of whether or not he would simply walk her home or if he would be allowed to walk over the threshold this time. “It wasn’t too much of a surprise, I’m still cleaning up his mess afterwards” She huffed and unhooked herself from his arm to fall into the seat of the swing, looking up at him with a wide grin. “Though, his messes definitely are a lot cleaner than what they were, you had to have a strong gut” She admitted before slowly nodding - she was definitely letting him more than she had ever done before and internally hoping her gut was still strong enough to keep the alcohol and bile contained tonight.
"To be honest, I'm not even sure if I'm truly done with the Organisation," he admitted, noticing the slowing in their pace as they continued walking along the path and further into the park. She was right. They weren't the kind of people that just let you go once you were in dealings with them, but it was also hard to refuse the money and easier to pretend as if he didn't realize that whoever these people were, they weren't exactly the law-abiding type. As long as Wyatt kept turning a blind eye and staying just enough out of the various jobs he'd be put on to fly people places, he kept getting paid. He also kept his life. "I had tried explaining that I wanted to focus more on my own business and that I couldn't take work from them anymore and all I got in return was a slow nod and the feeling like that wasn't much of a choice. For my efforts I got a 'we'll see you later' and I wasn't really sure what to expect. Needless to say, I've put a few more spell wards around my office and at home just in case I have some unexpected visitors one day." As unconcerned as his tone sounded, it could only be blamed on his alcohol consumption that night as Wyatt always had a look over his shoulder whenever he was out and about. It wasn't exactly the best way to be living. "Not like I can go running to the police. I made my bed. I wasn't forced to take the work they offered and in retrospect, I should've been smarter. Been more patient with myself about getting the studio."
Wyatt smirked softly at her saying she wanted to come visit his business as he looked over to her, almost expecting it to be a joke. That didn't seem to be the case. "I'd like that," he replied with sincerity, catching her gaze for a moment before turning away. "It's actually only a couple blocks or so away, but there's a catch." It was strange to not feel the weight of his camera hanging from around his neck. "I get to take at least one picture of you." It was something he brought with him everywhere, but a night out at a bar was probably not the best place to bring along his obsession. It was a strange sensation sometimes. Like a piece of him was missing. Even now, Wyatt wished he had his camera with him as he stopped and watched the soft yellowy-orange lighting spill over Clarissa while she moved away from him and towards the swing set on the playground.
'A strong gut'. He didn't want to guess as to why that might be a reason needed in order to deal with her brother's life, though he was sure the expression on his face made it clear what he might've been thinking. Wyatt didn't want to push, especially when they had never really opened up much in terms of their personal lives. He walked behind and gently pushed her on the swing. "Well, he's lucky to have you as a sister then. My cousin is a pain the ass all around." Wyatt shook his head with a sigh. "We were estranged, actually. I didn't even know where she was in the world up until a few years ago. Things... didn't go as I had hoped when I tried to have some reuniting with the only family I had left. She pretty much closed the door in my face. She recently showed in Evermore and we met up again during not so pleasant circumstances and only when she needed to get out of a jam." He shrugged his shoulders, continuing to softly push her. "I guess I can't complain too much as it did bring us together as a family. We just have to lay out all the issues and get through them eventually, but it's easier said than done. I guess you can relate too, huh?"
Stopping the swing, Wyatt pulled the chains back to bring Clarissa closer towards him, looking down at her for a few quiet moments with a smile. "So, do you live around here? I'd offer a ride, but I don't think I'd be a responsible citizen if I got behind the wheel of my car right now," he joked, letting go of the chains and stepping in front of her. "Or are you staying in one of the hotels around here? I don't know why, but I just assumed you basically lived at that facility. Can't lie, I'm wondering what your room would even look like." He smirked and bit his lower lip. "Strictly out of curiosity, of course."
It was highly unlikely that Wyatt had managed to get free from The League’s hand just like that, and from the sounds of it; he hadn’t. A ‘We will be in touch’ meant that they did not accept his resignation whatsoever but they certainly planned to toy him much like a cat would a mouse and demand that helps them once again; yet they would be much more clever than that and think of many back up plans if he simply said no - in fact, Rissa would dread to even imagine the sort things they would do to make him say yes. The worst part was, she used to do that very thing thus, she knew the impact it would have on the individual - she sighed at just the thought; she was somewhat comforted to know that he had used protection spells around his buildings, although that alone would not hold for long if they desperately wanted him. “I would keep an eye out on the other people that you care for, Wy” She mused, and looked straight ahead at the enticing darkness where the swings tempted her in. “You say no, they find ways to make you agree to their terms, blackmail at its severity” Her shoulders gave a shrug - Rissa knew he had his suspicions on their doings so she hoped for his sake he would pick up on the deathly and violent undertones of her words.
Clarissa nodded as she heard that his studio was only a few blocks away, it made her wonder if she had ever passed it on the street just never paid much attention to it; after all, it wasn’t really her scene to venture into and have a nosey round - at least, not for the sake of it. Yet, the moment she heard there was a catch, a brow rose curiously. “A photo of me?” She questioned with slight hesitance, Rissa could be egotistical and she knew she was not the worst looking person in the world, but perhaps it was just her tomboy nature that made her dislike being in front of the lens. She had photographs, selfies with the small friendship group she had managed to obtain in her life, but never would she put herself through the awkwardness of standing for a photo in a professional looking manner. Rissa scratched the back of her neck awkwardly. “Maybe if I’m not looking, or not aware, then you can take a photo of me?” She counteracted, hoping he would accept that part of the deal; even drunk she couldn’t agree to something like that.
Her lavender speckled gaze closed and her lips curled upward as he began to push her gently on the swing; there was no better feeling than having the wind blow around her face - that being said, she never truly used her wings to her advantage which was probably something she needed to change. Yet she knew what the other Nephilim would be like in the city as they would see more black feathers than the usual glorious white. “He is super lucky, although I give him back his fair share of mess, so it’s a good relationship to have, I suppose” She mused, thinking of all the trouble she had gotten Isaiah in, even before they found out they were related. Despite going back and forth, Rissa tilted her head just a little so she could still hear what he had to say about his cousin, and it amused her that the girl closed the door on him the first time round. “Sounds like a girl after my own heart” She grinned, her legs extending outward each time, trying to reach for the sky; if only The League could see her now, they certainly wouldn’t believe she was their favourite assassin at one point.
“Sometimes you need something dramatic to bring you two closer” She shrugged as she felt the swing lose its intensity, thus her feet would scrape along the tarmac to come to a halt. “Family, can’t live with ‘em, can’t live without ‘em’ Rissa shook her head as the swing got pulled backward and towards him; her head tilting so it could rest against one of the chains. “Don’t go having a heart attack now, but I actually own an apartment in the city” Rissa placed a hand over her chest in shock horror. “I thought it was time that I tried to find somewhere to call home, and I’ve made it quite homely, with the odd booby trap here and there” She grinned and jumped off from the seat. “The equivalent to those who don’t have magic” The Nephilim winked. “Curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back” She hummed, oh she was so out of character and she hated it; thus she cleared her throat, ignoring the unease in her somersaulting stomach. “If you can survive the traps, then maybe for old time sakes, you can walk through the door, c’mon”
The journey towards her apartment didn’t take too long, perhaps the swing had cleared her head from the alcohol which resided there. Clarissa nodded to the security at the front desk and noted his surprised expression at seeing a male with her; people often took her as one to bring many a man back, but in all honesty, she truly coudn’t be bothered with the hassle some men bring. “Wyatt, this is James - head of security for the building” She introduced them simply out of politeness, after all, James was always nice to her and turned a blind eye to the things she did in the apartment above. Once at the front of the door, she tumbled around for her keys in her jacket pocket. “Ready to see if you survive the test?” Rissa quizzed, glancing over her shoulder with a grin.
"I think I'd like to press my luck." He grinned and stepped around to the front of the swing again to offer his arm as she led them through the darkened park. It had nearly emptied out by now and there were only a few people walking the streets as the night turned later. The bars and clubs would soon be closing and all the intoxicated souls of Evermore would be on their way home or perhaps someone else's home. It still rather shocked him that he was currently walking next to Clarissa in a situation he could never really fathom as normal before. At least, not normal for them. Their definition of normal had brought them together under the contract of a certain employer who was anything but.
As they arrived at the apartment, Wyatt met the eyes of the guard who he couldn't help but to notice the reaction at seeing him with Clarissa. "Good to meet you, James," he replied to the introduction with a small nod to the man, feeling somewhat awkward and holding back a laugh. He saluted the guard shortly and continued following Clarissa with a smirk as she headed towards her unit. "I'm guessing many before me have failed said test by the way James was looking at me," he joked, while leaning against the doorframe as she fought with her keys. "Does he help you clean up the body afterwards or do you just pay him to turn a blind eye?"
When she opened the door and stepped through, he did a little jump over the threshold and squeezed his eyes closed as if to pretend something would happen to him. He looked to her with a shrug and smirked. "Well, now I'm just a little disappointed." Following her through the home, Wyatt wasn't surprised to see that everything was organized. He'd always known her to be precise in anything she did. It was immaculately clean and everything seemed to have a place, unlike him who had his laundry scattered about his living room currently after unpacking from his last trip along with the scattered papers of his research he'd tossed into the air in frustration some few hours ago.
Wyatt's eyes landed on the small bar cart and walked over to pick up a bottle of whiskey. He overturned two of the small glasses next to the various liquors and poured some into both. He lifted the drink and imitated a thorough inspection, sniffing the liquid. "If you've poisoned it, I'm almost willing to accept this death." The warm liquid went down easy as he slowly walked around the space, noting the lack of pictures with friends or possible family members. Somehow, that also didn't surprise him. It was a small table nearby that caught his attention next, drawing his brows together in confusion. He silently pointed towards the work station and what appeared to be a stuffed chinchilla. Was he more intoxicated than he thought? His eyes went a bit wide before he turned to Clarissa with a grin. "Taxidermy? Yeah?" He looked back to the furry creature and leaned closer to inspect it with a chuckle. "I guess we all have our thing, right?" He lifted a finger and touched its ear lightly before standing straight again and sipping from his glass.
"Ah, I think I figured it out now." His green hues moved over to the sofa and he sat down looking up to her. "You practice on the animals to perfect your true passion which is stuffing the men who have failed the test." Wyatt glanced over his shoulder to where he assumed her bedroom would probably be down the hall. "You keep them all in there, don't you? I only ask that if I last the longest, I get front and center real estate among the others. Maybe glue that bottle of whiskey in my hand cause this is damn good."
“A bit of both” Rissa replied coyly, she knew better than to admit to him and thus, feed his ego by revealing that he was the first man in a very long time to even come remotely close to her apartment; let alone survive the traps which she set up around her apartment. Although saying this, he was right on the part of James turning a blind eye to some of her shenanigans; if it weren’t for him, she surely would be in a lot of trouble with the law. Her shoulders rolled nochantaly for a moment as the key finally turned within the lock. “I’ve known him many years, and much like you, he has an assumption but tends to leave it at that” She commented and glanced over her shoulder as she stepped through to her apartment where she instinctively threw her keys into the bowl which rested just right of the door. Her shoulders shrugged off her jacket somewhat messily and hung it on the back of the dining chair before catching him jump over the threshold with his eyes squeezed tightly shut.
“Alright there, drama queen?” Amusement found her features as her lips curled upward as a laugh dared to rattle within her chest before she shook her head. “You just stepped on the right tile, s’all” Rissa stated with raised brows at his comment of being disappointed, although for just pure entertainment value, she did severely hope that he would find one trigger point just to see that she was serious; perhaps she would place him there for herself to rid him of that disappointment. She offered him a slight tour of her apartment before allowing him to get comfortable as she kicked off her shoes and placed them away in the wardrobe in her room; it was safe to say that she was minimalistic with her homely items, but what she did have, they had to be in place. A home which was untidy would drive her mad, and if she came across an untidy home, the chances were that she would probably offer to do their washing and any tidying for them; she wasn’t quite a perfectionist but she was certainly on her way to becoming one.
His comment made her chuckle as she re-entered the living area, glad to see that he had found the miniature bar that she had set up. “Almost willing, what would make you completely willing to accept that death?” Clarissa quizzed, grabbed her glass of whiskey and plopped herself down on the sofa, with one leg curling beneath her; she rested her head backward for a moment and closed her eyes but the comfort was short lived as the world began to spin rapidly before her. Therefore, she sat up straight somewhat suddenly to find that he had come across her work station, where she nodded in response. “It’s something that I’ve done since I was a child, death I guess is my own version of art” Rissa commented, and glanced at the chinchilla which eyed her almost suspiciously, as if she was the one to have killed it. “I don’t do the killing of those, they’re either roadkill, or a friend of mine is a hunter, she brings them to me”
Clarissa took a swig of whiskey which confirmed to her that the alcohol had definitely not left her system, thus she placed it down on the coffee table in front of them as he took a seat beside her. “I prefer to have skeletons in my closet” She mused as he sussed out her hobby. “But if that is how you wish your body to go, I can keep a promise and will make room within my wardrobe so you can have centerpiece… Though, I’m not sure what your cousin would say about that. She would probably want you in the Brookes mausoleum.”