Adjacent to the dancefloor but tucked away in a quiet nook, a man in a sleek green suit and matching mask observes the festivities, occasionally jotting something down in a pocket notebook. He tucks it away surreptitiously if anyone gets too close to him.
Briar's already got his notebook back into his suit by the time the stranger approaches, and he stuffs the rest of his dew-drop cocktail into his mouth as a distraction, feigning that he can't speak for a few moments as he motions to his clearly full mouth. Finally, he swallows the drink (mysteriously sweet with little flavor beyond the medicinal tinge of gin).
"I, uh," he says. "Nothing? I was just... writing... poetry."
Lorcan sniffs at him, as if he can smell a lie. (He can't, but he does wonder if the anonymity charm disguises a wearer's scent. He can't pinpoint who this is, if he even knows them.)
"I suspect the fae are involved," he volunteers, unsolicited, tone light and dreamy. "I'm interested to see if anything happens to the people who partake in the food and drink."
THE WOODS: An Observant Young Man
THE WOODS: Two Observant Young Men
"Well?" Lorcan asks the stranger, "What have you learned so far?"
THE WOODS: Two Observant Young Men
Briar's already got his notebook back into his suit by the time the stranger approaches, and he stuffs the rest of his dew-drop cocktail into his mouth as a distraction, feigning that he can't speak for a few moments as he motions to his clearly full mouth. Finally, he swallows the drink (mysteriously sweet with little flavor beyond the medicinal tinge of gin).
"I, uh," he says. "Nothing? I was just... writing... poetry."
THE WOODS: Two Observant Young Men
"I suspect the fae are involved," he volunteers, unsolicited, tone light and dreamy. "I'm interested to see if anything happens to the people who partake in the food and drink."