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From: babalon |
Date: December 27th, 2010 02:14 pm (UTC) |
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Emilie/Ciaran
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Emilie smirked, keeping close to him so they could speak. "Avoiding someone?" Her laughter was hushed against the music.
"Okay," She agreed, dragging him in the direction he'd tugged her, though it could hardly be called dragging when the person followed after you willingly.
Outside, the silence of the night was almost jarring. It was warm compared to New York. Only then did she let go of his hand, clicking open a small cigarette case she'd pulled from said jacket, perching a black cigarette between her lips. Sure, flavoured cigarettes were illegal now-- but wizard-run tobacco shops still sold a good equivalent to cloves.
She flipped open a small skull, about the size of a pot of lip gloss, and inside was a small, glowing ember that she lit her cigarette on. The smoke at the end of the cigarette curled into the pattern of a Celtic knot. Morrigan Darks. Gimmicky, but she still kept buying them.
"Kinda girly, I know. But they taste good," she offered, holding out her cigarette case and flame-less lighter.
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