02-01-2016, 07:04 PM
More drinking? I have to wake up for class in the morning, you know.
Margot had protested at first-- work and school were stressful enough for a girl on her own to balance without having to throw all of the rest of her baggage into the mix-- magical and familial alike. But the date was set out far enough that she had to accommodate-- she kind of owed it to the Doc anyways.
She may have shown up on her own, driving a nondescript four-door sedan that was forgettable-- like her own little Arcane-mobile. She may have had Ned in the passenger seat as well-- Margot was always game to play driver on their escapades. She could empathize with reasons he may have for opting not to drive them himself. On the day that they were meeting Margot arrived about ten minutes early (as was her custom, she liked to be timely to places [but ironically lacked any sense of Time itself]) and parked around back as the lot allowed.
When she arrived she was dressed more neatly than usual, having taken his comment about combing their hair to heart. She'd come in a navy blue skirt that hemmed above the knee and a matching cardigan over a gray shirt. Black nylons blended with black boots, and though the two inch heels built into them helped her appear a little taller that still only brought her up to 5'3".
She didn't look old enough to drink, but carried a driver's license that said otherwise and carried the wine glass without acting too suspicious about it. She was meeting strangers, but they were magic strangers, so they probably didn't give much of a shit about drinking age either. She sipped and looked back to the front door for the fourth time since she was introduced to the kitchen space.
"Who are we meeting, anyways?"
Margot had protested at first-- work and school were stressful enough for a girl on her own to balance without having to throw all of the rest of her baggage into the mix-- magical and familial alike. But the date was set out far enough that she had to accommodate-- she kind of owed it to the Doc anyways.
She may have shown up on her own, driving a nondescript four-door sedan that was forgettable-- like her own little Arcane-mobile. She may have had Ned in the passenger seat as well-- Margot was always game to play driver on their escapades. She could empathize with reasons he may have for opting not to drive them himself. On the day that they were meeting Margot arrived about ten minutes early (as was her custom, she liked to be timely to places [but ironically lacked any sense of Time itself]) and parked around back as the lot allowed.
When she arrived she was dressed more neatly than usual, having taken his comment about combing their hair to heart. She'd come in a navy blue skirt that hemmed above the knee and a matching cardigan over a gray shirt. Black nylons blended with black boots, and though the two inch heels built into them helped her appear a little taller that still only brought her up to 5'3".
She didn't look old enough to drink, but carried a driver's license that said otherwise and carried the wine glass without acting too suspicious about it. She was meeting strangers, but they were magic strangers, so they probably didn't give much of a shit about drinking age either. She sipped and looked back to the front door for the fourth time since she was introduced to the kitchen space.
"Who are we meeting, anyways?"