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He has no idea what Baranski & Greer is. The name flicks off him like water off a duck. He still has his mug with him, though, which he refills at the keg.
"I guess I'm one of the relatives. Very far flung through several layers of cousins and marriages. I live up north, near the state line." Where he is apparently a real cowboy. His mug full, he lets go the tab and straightens to face Eva and her friend again.
"So what's a lawyer doing at a potentially debauched Fianna boozefest?"
BECAUSE OF LIGHT AND DUTY AND REASONS.
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"Handing out my card," she deadpans, with a certain blithe deliberation. Only the corner of her mouth is quirked upward, and even that is difficult to read. "I do mostly criminal defense work, so the DUIs and public indecency charges that might stem from a potentially debauched Fianna boozefest could keep me busy for weeks."
As Calden straightens, re-filled ale in hand, she lifts her own bottle of water in an ironic little toast.
Then makes a quiet noise in the back of her throat, and concedes the story before she is even challenge on it.
"No, the truth is we live not far from here. My - " strange, how in that moment she finds it hard to say the word to a stranger. So she just elides it, allows the absence to stand in for a missing presence, " - well, he was part of the Sept. I figure it's good to make an appearance now and then, maintain those ties. And Ellie wanted to come. Her friends are here.
"We are leaving at 10:30, though. Hopefully before the actual outright debauchery begins."
But my heart is wild and my bones are steel
And I could kill you with my bare hands if I was free.
- Phosphorescent, Song for Zula
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Mate. That's the word she sidesteps. At least, that's what Calden assumes goes in that curious little space. He's polite enough to let it go, to not hound after it, pry.
Another sip. And a smile which is nearly a smirk. "Well, I suppose there's a chance of things remaining proper until ten-thirty. Though," a glance over his shoulder, where across the way and behind the bonfire there's a shriek of girlish delight and a whole chorus of rowdy male laughter, "I wouldn't put money on it. You should just cut your losses, stash her in the house now, and partake freely in the debauchery. So long as no one takes a compromising picture, I'm sure you'll still get plenty of business in the morning."
BECAUSE OF LIGHT AND DUTY AND REASONS.
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"Oh," an engaging, upward lilt of her brows, a lift of her chin toward the ripple of sound on the other side of the bonfire. Her own half-smile remains just so: wry, aware, sardonic perhaps, without slipping into the territory of a proper smirk. "I appreciate the advice." A brief glance at Emmett, his profile, her own gaze calm and withheld and searching.
"In fact, I was just about to tell Emmett that I thought he should stay. Let loose a bit. Unfortunately, I have two more at home, and a sitter to relieve. And a hearing before Judge Wall in the morning.
"He hates it when counsel are late. And he hates it more when counsel look like they had a better time than he did the night before.
"Since I'm unable to stay - perhaps you'll commit to a few extra acts of debauch on my behalf?"
But my heart is wild and my bones are steel
And I could kill you with my bare hands if I was free.
- Phosphorescent, Song for Zula
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Calden laughs. It levels off; turns into a smile. A real one, crinkling the corners of his eyes. "I'll consider it," he says gravely, "if you consider getting your little girl some cowboy boots. And not pink ones either."
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"She did put on a very good case," concedes Éva, in an equally grave, considered voice. With a matched gleam in her dark eyes: humor, or pride, or matchless fucking love, all three braided together. " - so you have yourself a deal, Mr. White."
But my heart is wild and my bones are steel
And I could kill you with my bare hands if I was free.
- Phosphorescent, Song for Zula
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[Gaah, apologies. It's been a busy few days and I didn't get the email notifications of replies.  I'll toss something up today.]
"The anger of a good man is not a problem. Good men have too many rules."
"Good men don't need rules. And today's not the day to find out why I have so many."
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The mocha-skinned Gaian smiles a little around the rim of her cup as she takes a sip, listening to Sam joke about government robotics experiments and then explain that her brother's a Theurge.
"Mmm...yeah." She lowers the cup and nods, clearly understanding what the other is saying about the auspice. "I've been there myself. It's always a bit of a struggle to keep focused on the here and now; that's part of why I decided to stick with a larger city than, say, a more rural area. I just find it easier coming back from the ephemeral when there's the immediacy and noise of the city, you know? It's hectic, but it certainly has its upside."
"The anger of a good man is not a problem. Good men have too many rules."
"Good men don't need rules. And today's not the day to find out why I have so many."
Sam nods. "I get that, I do. The last place I lived, it's this tiny little town out in the middle of BFE, which, don't get me wrong, it was nice. Quiet, peaceful, pretty easy to get out into nature until some stuff started to go down, but the closest major cities were all at least an hour and a half out. I can only handle so much fresh air and open space. Then again," she shrugs, "I can only handle so much city smog and crowded bodies, too."
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