joyd: (✝ hall of souls)
mr. sticky-fingered immoral orphan and tramp ([personal profile] joyd) wrote 2025-11-12 09:44 pm (UTC)

All right, till then.

[And he leaves it at that, letting her return to the duties demanded of the Champion Duelist.

Later in the evening, he finds the Hotel Debord — appropriately upscale enough for a person of status — and enters into the gleaming lobby, dressed down (without the bloodstains...) a little more comfortably for his own tastes. His suit jacket hangs from one hand, and he has a bottle of Don Lucine Cabernet tucked securely under the other arm. Since she never specified a time, Tyki loiters patiently and strikes up a conversation with the bellhop, who tells him all about some of the other famous guests who've stayed in such a nice hotel, including one Mademoiselle Clorinde, a name that brightens the gold of Tyki's eyes to an almost wolfish glow as he listens on. Not that the man notices.

Clorinde will find him smoking in an area by the hotel bar when she finally arrives, leaned against the arch of the doorway that exits to the lobby. He's been watching the door the entire time, so he'll see her as soon as she comes in. There's anticipation thrumming in his blood that is hard to contain; he keeps his posture loose, easy still.]

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