Jul. 10th, 2015

morethanhuman: oh, i can assure you of that (you wouldn't want to be me)
What was that saying? It's five thirty somewhere.

Erik was sure that was true, even if there was no way to gauge time zones at the Nexus. By his watch, it was barely two p.m., a pleasant buzz of alcohol humming through his veins as he ambled through the portrait gallery on the first floor of the hotel. In retrospect, perhaps letting Jordan take him to lunch in New York City had been irresponsible— but, he thought snidely, it wasn't as if he had anything else on his calendar for the afternoon.

He found himself in the billiards room, dragging his fingertips along the worn felt of the game table, his other hand sparking with lazy little flashes of lightning. His metal sense pinged off a handful of short, thin spikes stored somewhere on the opposite wall; closer inspection revealed a wooden box full of red-fletched darts.

Erik grinned. He was just tipsy enough to find the idea of playing funny, and let the darts hang in midair near his shoulder while he located the board hanging on the wall across the room. Plucking one out of the air, he squeezed an eye shut and threw.

The dart thudded into the wall a foot away from the board. Erik winced, and gave an unsteady chuckle— then turned, as a snort of amusement sounded behind him.