[hr][center][img]https://i.imgur.com/XiUHyUc.png[/img]     [img]https://i.imgur.com/K7gWNb1.png[/img] [/center]
[right]Interactions: Sloane [@Atrophy], Trevor [@Punished GN], Jack (Text) [@Blizz]
[code]The Bar that Ruins Hopes and Dreams, The Halloween Festival[/code][/right][hr]

[quote=Trevor]Well, I guess I'll stick with you, even though my heart, soul -[sup][i]and other parts[/i][/sup]- belong to your friend! I'm a superhero, y'know, and I could not live with myself if something happened to her.[/quote]
Anya felt like she was going to throw up. She didn't want any of that. She'd rather Trevor took it all and kept it far, far away from her… when she'd agreed to one date to get information she hadn't expected [I]this[/I]. He was talking as if they were anything, which they certainly were not and never would be. The suggestion that she needed [i]him[/i] specifically to survive was laughable. 

Also, did he really think Sloane was interested in him? That that was why she asked him to stay? That anyone would be actually interested? His ability to see things that weren't there was so strong that perhaps it was an abstraction itself.

Maybe she should finally do what her parents suggested, and find a rich husband (preferably one happy to have a loveless marriage) to scare Trevor away.

Anya shuddered, torrential downpour soaking her through in moments. The insects she’d so painstakingly painted on her face were nothing more than black lines down her cheeks. She was thankfully she’d braided her hair - it looked slightly less bedraggled after being soaked through. It was cold, and she automatically moved a bit closer to Sloane too… While looking at Trevor with the polite smile that had never quite left her lips.

[color=9966CC]”While there may be a killer on the loose, I'm not so helpless that I wouldn't be able to walk over to there,”[/color] Anya pointed to the visible bar, where Bianca seemed to be chatting up the lady serving her rather than getting drinks, [color=9966CC]”without getting stabbed. Thank you for your concern, Mr ‘Superhero’, but if anything I'm more at risk every night when I'm at home alone than I would be walking out of your sight.”[/color]

Something she very much wished to do. And maybe if Father Wolf appeared and stabbed her, it wouldn't be so bad. At least she wouldn't have to suffer through more Trevor reenactments of what he did to people, or what was maybe a joke or maybe serious about being bulletproof. She couldn’t tell. It certainly didn’t make her laugh. It did make her consider murdering him, but she pushed that thought aside. Too risky.

Anya gratefully took the drink from Cindy, and took a sip. It was pleasant. She put it down on the table in front of her and considered how to proceed. They could leave, but she had a feeling Trevor would follow them. She could make awkward small talk until there was a reason to leave… Perhaps the rain was enough. But what was to stop him following them to ‘protect her’. Anya reached for the pineapple margarita, something she desperately needed, only to find it wasn’t there.

Sloane had stolen her drink again.

For the first time in a while, Anya got genuinely annoyed with her friend. Sloane was so drunk that she could stop drinking now and would barely register what was happening, but Anya was about as sober as can be. If anyone needed that drink to survive this situation, it was her. So much for friendship. Of course, this seething didn’t reach the surface, Anya’s expression was still perfectly amicable.

[quote=Sloane][color=gray]“Anya! We need to…urk…”[/color] [/quote]

[color=9966CC]”We need to what?”[/color] Anya asked patiently, watching as Sloane jumped up and almost fell without commenting on it. The slight entertainment she got from that was enough to wash away the annoyance at Sloane drinking nearly half of her drink. 

Though what followed was a near tragedy of Sloane seeming to come to the point while almost knocking everything off the table. With a speed Anya didn't know she had, she moved all of the glasses out of Sloane's reach. 

[color=9966CC]”Jack can teleport, he's safer than most of us,”[/color] Anya said evenly, lightly patting Sloane's shoulder in what was meant to be a comforting gesture. She suddenly felt like she had a child, a fully grown drunken one, and found herself hoping Bianca would be back with their drinks soon. She was perhaps the lesser of these three evils. At least, she was the one Anya could handle easiest. 

Sloane wasn't letting up about Jack, to the point that she was kicking Trevor under the table like a petulant child annoyed at their sibling. Not that he didn't deserve it. But how would Trevor know who Jack was? If there was someone he wasn't able to trace it was Jack, with his ancient iPhone that had been to the void and back.

[color=9966CC]”I'll message him,”[/color] Anya said placatingly, pulling out her phone. She considered apologising to Trevor, but decided against it. What Sloane while drunk was doing was around the same level as everything that ever came out of his mouth.

With great difficulty thanks to the rain, Anya sent Jack a text.
[code]To Jack: Where are you? Sloane's worried Father Wolf got you. She's very drunk.[/code]
[code]To Jack: We’ve been ambushed by Trevor. Help would be appreciated.[/code]

[color=9966CC]”There, done,”[/color] Anya said to Sloane, hoping she’d put her head back down on the table and maybe take a nap. Though there was the question of getting her home if she didn’t sober up… that could be tackled later. [color=9966CC]”I’m sure he’s fine. I'll let you know as soon as he replies, alright, Sloane?”[/color]

While waiting for Jack’s response, she might as well attempt some further information gathering. She turned back to Trevor with a diplomatic smile. [color=9966CC]”Your boss and her… friend talked like they were close with Emily G. Reed and Vashti Nour. I know they helped with your… previous leader. Have you been working together since then?”[/color]