A Day at the Café {Open}

So Dorian Silverhollow was dead eh? Well, truth betold, Xerxes thought as his eyes scanned the date at the top of the paper, he’d been dead for a while. he paper was a month old at the least. Snorting derisively at the booming headline –‘FERALS ATTACK SILVERHOLLOW, SCIENTSIT DEAD’—Xerxes shook his head and threw the news down right back from where he had picked up off the ground.

It was of course, nothing he hadn’t already known. Why there was a month old newspaper flittering around the streets though, that might be interesting to look into. Then again, it could have just been someone too lazy actually go to the rubbish bin and the piece happened to then float around from space to space and somehow end up in miraculously unharmed condition.

Still, as interesting as itw as too look into the paper’s short history, Xerxes pushed the idea away from his mind, choosing instead to focus on more interesting things.

The newly appointed Goldsbloom head for one. Eyes straying over towards the gleaming brass buildings just visible over the swell of the restaurants and eateries of the central Sector, Xerxes hid a smile behind the glass pressed to his lips.

People chattered all around him, yammering on and on about their woes in life and servers called out waiting tickets. To some, the café might have been a disorienting place, crowded as it was, but Xerxes eyes never left the gleaming bronze.

Oh yes, the Goldsbloom heir-now the head. Interesting fellow-what Xerxes wouldn’t give to see just what made his mind tick. It was fair knowledge that the youth was a raging pervert, if his taste in lovers was any indication. Really, Xerxes thought with a hidden smile as he turned his attention back towards his drink with a smug air, only twenty-one and the man was already shagging hybrids as if the entire species would die out.

All in all, nothing new.

But the fact that the brat had decided to kill Old Lord Goldsbloom when the man had threatened to take away his beloved threats? Well, that added a new vein of interest to the little foray and that tickled Xerxes’ fancy.

Already he had spies sneaking into the manor, and from the brief catches he had already heard, the young Lord was quite…unhinged. Desperate, some might say. It was as if, one woman had uttered to him, that the lord was fighting against himself.

And my…wasn’t that an interesting concept? What had caused the young lord’s breakdown? It couldn’t have only been the threat of his father-Spirits above the man had made such threats before to his son and the heir had done little about it besides protesting and throwing enough of a fit that Old Man Harold had backed off.

Perhaps the man had threatened to have them killed? Tilting his head back to sip another draft of his drink, Xerxes shrugged to himself while waving off a nervous looking waitress. Perhaps-it wasn’t like the Former Goldsbloom head had been against killing, if the tales in the underworld were true.

And well, they were. Xerxes knew that for a fact.

Giving a smile that was at odds with the annoyed furrowing of his brow, Xerxes tightened his fingers around his drink, loosening his grip only when the glass sounded out with a threatening clunk.

Ah. It wouldn’t do to break the china.

Settling his drink down only slightly worse for the wear, Xerxes scratched idly at his scar, deep in thought as scenarios ran through his head. His nails squeaked against the metal framed by the ragged edges of skin and each time his fingers pressed with enough pressure, one could almost see a flurry of sharp white spark emerge from the old wound; not that Xerxes paid them any mind of course. Both noise and the sudden influx of sparks were but paltry things in his mind, easy enough to be forgotten as he lost himself in his musings.

It would have been almost comical, the picture he made, sitting in a quaint café while nursing a glass of amber ale before noon and sending sparks flying through the air each time he scratched too hard at his scar. Too bad the scene was more frightening than not, the metal-man’s head half bowed over his drink and his eerie red eyes at half mast as a cruel smile tilted upon his lips even when his brow crinkled in both thought and annoyance.

Many waiters stayed clear, and there was already a noticeable circle void of people surrounding the informant’s table. Not that Xerxes cared.

Fighting back an annoyed groan as his brow gave an irritated twitch, Xerxes shook his head and then glanced back down towards his glass misting on the table in the humid summer heat. This wouldn’t do.

Perhaps he needed more to drink.

Waving over a frightened waitress whose hands shook as she held the pen to the pad in her hands, Xerxes smiled and waved a hand towards his drink.

“Refill please.”

A quick nod was his reply as the server quickly scurried off, his glass in hand as the other waiters and waitresses alike gave him a wide berth. Watching her retreat with an interested gaze, Xerxes paused before he grinned.

The dilemma of the Goldsbloom succession would have to wait, but for now, he could focus his attentions on something less trying.

People watching after all, was one of his favorite past times.