Who Needs Sobriety? (Anyone/Tadhg)

[Zildjain Pearl]

Zildjain walked into the club. She was wearing a black pleated mini skirt with a black corset top that was lined with scarlet trim. She had a pair of combat boots that came up to her the base of her knee and accented her amazing legs. Her long dark hair was in straight layers around her face and her bright green eyes were illuminated with the thick eyeliner.

She smiled as the jukebox was playing Animals by Nine Inch Nails. Zildjain put her black pea coat on the coat rack by the door and made her way to the bar. She ordered a straight shot of Absolute along with a Vodka Tonic and smiled as the bartender brought it out to her.

[Tadhg Whelan]

"Well, Tadhg, this is what you get for taking such a late flight," the young man said aloud to himself. He was standing on the sidewalk with a couple of bags hanging from his shoulders and a large suitcase at his side, right where the taxi had left him. "And for not learning French properly before going to Paris." He scowled at the mostly darkened windows and the mostly empty street. "Idiot."

Sighing, he adjusted the straps of his bags and attempted to formulate a sentence in his head. "Where is the school... for... warlocks. Le école de..." He rolled his eyes. "Lord." Any normal person he could find was going to think he was a nutter. Trudging down the road, he persevered. "Où est la école..."

As he passed by a rather noisy place he eyed it nervously and kept going. The thumping bass and the distinctive state of the people loitering outside the door gave it away, even if he couldn't exactly read the sign -- the place was a nightclub. The last place he wanted to be right now.

But then he heard it. The fateful sound. The English language.

Tadhg made a split-second decision and veered around toward the club, seeking out the person who had said something in English. It was a little bit difficult to get his suitcase in the door, but he managed it, to the glares and swears of the people he accidentally bumped.

Once he was inside, wincing at the violence of whatever song was pounding out of the jukebox, he wondered what in the world he'd been thinking. "Ahm, excuse me..." he attempted to yell over the din. "Anyone speak English in here?" He clutched his suitcase closer when someone nearly tripped over it. "...Anyone?"

[Zildjain Pearl]

Zildjain was downing her shot of Absolut when she heard a calling for English speakers. Even though she couldn't properly speak at the moment, Zildjain waved her hand at the guy. Gasping, as the liquid left her throat and burned a little, Zildjain got off the barstool and walked towards the obvious tourist. "I speak English.' she said with a polite smile. 'What are you needing?" The five foot nothing girl felt like a midget to this guy who was probably about a foot taller than her, but none the less, she wasn't intimidated. Hello...slayer!

[Tadhg Whelan]

Was he actually relieved to find someone with whom he could converse? Why, yes, it appeared that he was. Tadhg marveled at this fact for a moment. Then he marveled at the woman he'd found. Mostly her breath. And her outfit... A corset, really? He had never seen anyone actually wearing a corset. Weren't those supposed to go underneath everything, not on the outside?

Oh right, he was supposed to be conversing.

"I'm looking for... um. A place. It's a school, you know, for..." Go on, say it, he thought sarcastically. School for magic and Slayers and people who watch Slayers... excellent idea... He attempted to smile and not sound like a moron. "It's run by a British guy named Mr. Rupert Giles, and it would be great if you'd heard of it and could tell me where it is, and if not I'm sorry for wasting your time and I'll get out of your way."

[Zildjain Pearl]

Zildjain smiled widely and nodded. "Actually, I'm a student there.' Zildjain said. 'Hello, I'm Zildjain...a slayer. Who are you?" She questioned. She had only met two people from the school and one was her roommate. She noticed that he was looking at her appearance and she liked it. She loved getting weird looks from people because she dressed out of the norm.

[Tadhg Whelan]

He was taken aback. A Slayer, this was a Slayer! He'd learned a few things about them in his studies, but he had never seen one. And what luck -- the first person he met in Paris happened to be a fellow student. "Tadhg," he said, then lowered his voice a bit to add, "A warlock. In training." It wasn't that he cared so much what people thought; it was more that he liked his privacy and always attempted to deflect attention. Declaring oneself to be a warlock was an attention magnet. Even if all the people close enough to hear were plastered or paying absolutely no attention.

"So, ahm... sorry, what was your name again? Zil-- Zildjain, right... Is the school far from here?" He eyed her with a raised brow and thought that it must be close enough to walk or she must be planning on having a friend drive her home. Nobody with breath smelling like that was intending to get behind a wheel.

[Zildjain Pearl]

Zildjain nodded and smiled. "That's awesome,' she said. 'Um, yeah, it isn't too far.' Zildjain looked around the club. Yeah, sure there was a lot of people but she was bored with it. 'Actually, let me pay the bartender and I can walk with you.' Zildjain dug into her pocket and pulled out some Euros and laid them on the bar. 'If that's alright." Zildjain said, softly as she put her coat on.

[Tadhg Whelan]

For a moment he inwardly recoiled at the idea of having company, but it wasn't as if he had a choice. What else was he going to do, wander the streets aimlessly all night? He waited while the Slayer paid and got her coat. When she asked if it was alright he gave a nod. "Oh, yeah. Thanks."

It was just as awkward getting himself and all of his luggage out the door as it had been getting in, but he made it in one piece and took a moment to straighten his coat, which had somehow gotten twisted around. "God, it'll be good to get out of these clothes. I smell like an airplane." Not really noticing that he'd spoken aloud, Tadhg looked to Zildjain to lead the way.

[Zildjain Pearl]

Zildjain walked out of the club and waited for the warlock to follow. She smiled as he commented on his scent. "I don't think you smell like a plane. Maybe the terminal but not a plane.' she smirked. 'So, Tadhg, where are from?" She questioned, pointing and walking to the left towards the school.

[Tadhg Whelan]

The terminal, how pleasant. He smirked as well. At least it would keep away unwanted attention, eh? Or not. A shower would be nice right about now. Might help with his aching shoulders, too. Why did he have to bring so much stuff? Surely one could buy magic supplies in Paris, if they had a magic school. He didn't need to bring his entire room with him. Of course, a significant reason his shoulders ached was that one of his bags was not in fact a bag, but a cat carrier. Twilight was a small cat but it was still a heavy load.

Tadhg's head jerked a little as if coming out of a daydream when he realized that she'd asked a question. "Dungarvan. Uhm, Ireland. South of Ireland. You?"

[Zildjain Pearl]

"I American.' She smiled, looking over at him. 'Can't you tell by the horrid accent?' Zildjain hated the way she talked. Like a typical Missourian with a hint of a hick. It was possibly the worse accent in the world. Zildjain looked down at his back and saw the cat carrier. 'Oh, my gosh. You have a kitty?' She bent down and looked inside. 'Awww, she's cute!"

[Tadhg Whelan]

"Horrid, oh I don't know. It could be worse." After a moment he looked thoughtful and said, "It could be southern American."

When Zildjain noticed the cuteness of his cat, Tadhg grinned and patted the carrier. "That she is. Her name is Twilight. Because of her color, see? The white specks on the gray look a bit like stars." He craned his neck in an attempt to peer into the carrier while still holding it level. "She doesn't like flying any more'n I do. Do you girl?"

He glanced up and his grin changed to an unruffled half-smile as he shrugged the strap of his carry-on bag higher on his shoulder.

[Zildjain Pearl]

Zildjain smiled as he talked to his pet. She never had a pet. One thing about living in the city...you don't get a lot of the things other people do. "She's cute.' Zildjain walked with her hands in her pockets. She bit her lip in thought, Okay, I'm dressed like an uber slut and this guy doesn't even seemed phased. Am I losing it? Zildjain continued to walk and then looked back at Tadhg. 'So, where are you from?" she questioned.

[Tadhg Whelan]

"I'm from Ireland," he replied smoothly, having forgotten for a moment that he'd already been asked. When he remembered he looked over. "And you're from America. Which state?" Maybe her mind was wandering. He wasn't the most interesting of conversationalists. Oh, or maybe she was being Slayerly and paying attention to their surroundings -- vampires and things might be about, after all, it being late at night. The sound of his suitcase wheels rumbling determinedly over the sidewalk was not conducive to hiding from vampires. He lifted the wheels off of the ground for a second, but this proved too unbalanced a position and his arm was too tired to maintain it. Let the noise continue. It wasn't that loud.

[Zildjain Pearl]

At every alley way they passed, Zildjain would look down it to see if she spotted anything. She turned and looked at Tadhg when the noise stopped and smiled when he put the suitcase back down. "Missouri,' she answered with annoyance. 'St. Louis, Missouri. Not the awesomest of cities but...it's home.' Zildjain continued looking out and didn't know why. It just felt...instinctual. 'I kinda miss it, actually. My brother and all..." Zildjain stopped talking and shrugged.