[P] we've smashed to smithereens;

[Acton]

Acton whatever you feed me I'll feed you right back   “Oh, I think some of the best friends are the ones whose names you don’t even know,” he answered her, and then laughed again at her follow-up statement. As if reassessing her Acton leaned back, studying her with that molten-gold gaze, and if she was just a little fuzzy at the edges from all the drinking he’d done, well, there was no need to mention that. “Hardly the first time I’ve been warned of that,” he said, and scowled as though it bothered him at all. The buckskin was surprised to find that thinking of the other Crows, now, didn’t sting nearly so badly as it had a few hours ago – but that should have been no shock. Alcohol was a wonderfully blunting thing, the best kind of magic he had right now. His amber eyes caught the way her smile turned wolfish, and he couldn’t help the way his own lips crooked up in response. “No time for that, when I was working on a worse hangover than yours.” He couldn’t remember if they’d ever touched in the city of starlight – a brush of shoulders, a bump of muzzle – but he found he wanted to, now. Sharp eyes, sharp horn, a treasure map of scars; soft cloth smooth as water, draping, flowing, dark as wine or blood in the gathering shadows. Acton took another step toward her; easy to think he was only being propelled by the current of people around them. “Such a hospitable pickpocket,” he said, and arched a brow at her, eyes laughing. Their last adventure was as much a blur as this one already was, for him – had he told her of the Crows? He knew they’d gone to the bar run by one, but couldn’t recall if they’d gotten much into his profession. Now he was no longer in Denocte, he supposed it didn’t matter either way. Indeed, it was a good night for forgetting, and for distracting. He doubted there was a better companion for both in the whole of Novus. “I’ll start with whatever you’re having,” he said, “but only if it’s strong.” A wink, and then he stepped past her, just so happening to bump her hip with his own as he did. He’d already memorized the path to the three nearest liquor-booths; as he headed for one now, he glanced back at her, wrapped in her shadows and her silk, and if he hadn’t been so drunk his gaze would have been almost keen. “Are you from Delumine, then? If my being here makes me your guest.” He wondered if they might unravel all of one another’s secrets tonight. @Pavetta