A New Partner

@"Thoth"

The guy seemed level headed enough, even though he was quite curious as to what made his soul so muddy grey. He must have done something, though perhaps he'd reformed. Just having impure thoughts wouldn't taint it to that degree. He wanted to know more, as was his nature, but asking openly in an office wouldn't do.

But then again, wasn't it always the same?

"Dinner sounds lovely." It always did. It wasn't as if he were every wary of the people he encountered; they were mere mortals, and there was very little they could do to him that would truly cause harm. "After your shift is done?"

@"Thoth"

Tybalt left once they said their goodbyes, his opinion on his new partner not overall positive but not because of anything he'd said or done. The sticky, tar-like ball of light sitting just in the hollow of his throat dictated everything for him.

But that aside, the rest of the day remained uneventful and would be until around five, when he was supposed to meet his new partner for dinner. It was really a lot of shuffling papers back and forth, filling his name out, reports and bureaucracy and why oh why had he ever given up the stage for this?

So despite the disgusting state of his soul, Tybalt was glad to be getting out and meeting with Angelo for dinner.

He spotted him out front, probably a minute or two earlier than him. "Looks like you're eager to get out of here."

@"Thoth"

Ah, those calls for backup. They were always fun, especially if it got out of hand enough to get his wings involved. Usually he didn't let them show up at all, and there was only one distinct time where he needed to use them. That had been a mess, and he sincerely hoped it wouldn't happen again.

"Nowhere in particular, so I think wherever you have in mind sounds fine." As long as this Italian place in some sketchy back alley and, he supposed, his new partner wasn't trying to murder him.

So he'd follow Angelo wherever it was that he was leading him. On the way there he would glance back and forth, seeing the glows that everybody gave off right between their collar bones. It shone through clothes and jewellery and whatever else sat there; he could see it all, and he was rather displeased to find that a lot of them were tarnished.

@"Thoth"

Tybalt shook his head slightly as he entered the place, immediately glancing around at all the people. The weight of souls was often the center of his attention; it was what he was made to do, after all. He saw all the glowing balls, making quiet mental notes. Judgement, indeed.

"I don't know what you're saying, but sure." He picked up a menu, looking at it quizzically as he crossed one leg over the other. "Really, I don't eat much Italian." He didn't eat much at all, actually.

He ended up putting the menu down, settling for a coffee and a simple pasta dish because why the hell not. "So how do you like the department so far?"

@"Thoth"

"I know of New York, yes. Been a few times." Ah, he remembered it fairly well... And he remembered that he was absolutely disgusted by it. "Never liked it. I didn't quite care for the people, either." The weight of those souls had been rather tremendous. Black and sticky, wrapping around their necks.

The waiter came and he ordered his coffee and meal, settling back comfortably in his chair. Coffee was a nice human invention, and he'd seen it go from something only the wealthy could afford to something on market shelves for a dollar. He'd seen chocolate go the same way, and many foods come and go. The culture of it was all very interesting.

"Yes, I am." He didn't deny it, didn't hesitate in his answer and... Pretty much left it at that. Vague. He didn't try to make an excuse for it either, while most would when faced with something like that.

"I am to the point and clear when I need to be. Namely, when I'm on the job." Which was, he felt, the only time he truly did need to spell everything out. Otherwise, not at all.