Canon is Jessica Jones; Setting - A high end hotel bar

[mindmagician]

"I think I might quite like to take a holiday. Go the sea maybe, get a tan. Have you ever been to Italy?" The bartender shook his head. It wouldn't have mattered if the man did; the well spoken Englishmen in the tailored patterned suit of deep purplish-blue wouldn't have wanted to hear it. "Ah," he tsked with a shake of his head. "Shame. I hear they've got great parties. Last til dawn. And the women?"

He sucked in an appreciative breath through his teeth and shook his head once in wonder before taking a shallow drink. "I wonder if I shouldn't just.. take a tour of the country. See some new scenery. Bit too dirty around these parts for me nowdays. No one has the same self respect anymore. Disgusting, don't you think so?"

The bartender was still staring at him, compelled and rooted to the spot. "Yes." The glass in his hands being wiped clean had been clean ten minutes beforehand but Kilgrave wanted the company. He didn't seem to mind the repetitive movements; in all actuality, he found them.. quaint. Like he might be in a movie or something.

Comments

[mindmagician]

If he were privy to any of the internal debates, it would tickle him pink. Except the bit about his suit; it wasn't loud, it was sleek and elegant, thank you very much. The best money could buy. He couldn't help it if the bar for standards of dress were lower in America.

The other patrons of the place were already in danger, though it wasn't really direct and ignorance is the best kind of bliss. He never cared enough to even consider the thought of protecting people.

"You asked for it like you might die of thirst or impatience. You haven't even gotten the first glass." His head tiled a little as the bartender slid her the glass and poured her first round, leaving the bottle as directed before getting the fuck out of dodge before Kilgrave could command something else of him.

The lie was caught - people didn't stutter when they answered him unless it was by habit and his lips pulled into a little smirk of his own.

"England is a sight for sore eyes after being over here too long. Interpol.. Very interesting... Who do you work for?"

Yes, yes, she'd just said Interpol but he didn't like lies. He expected the truth and would ask more directly for it.

[aphotic_auror]

"OI! I resemble that remark!" she giggled, as she smiled thankfully at the barkeep, and then, of course, made herself stop talking for a brief moment to take a good, solid gulp of the mint cordial, before turning that grin upon her "new friend". "No, but seriously though: I was standing there for a good five minutes-- or possibly longer; I mean, it's not as if I had my watch out, y' know...?" Which should have indicated to the man across from her that she did NOT have a wristwatch, but something a little more old-fashioned, like, say, a pocket-watch. "Just-- waiting for the barkeep to bloody well notice me!

"You can understand my frustration, that he seemed ruddy well hypnotised by your bloody suit!" She giggled again, until, that was, she heard the question she was being asked. Then, of course, she let out a huff of exasperated air, and took another hearty gulp from her glass before answering, averting her eyes to pour another glass for herself.

"I told you: Interpol. I come from MI-5, really but-- I am also an Interpol agent!" She forced the corners of her mouth into a small, challenging smile up at him,as if daring him to know better than she did herself, about her own damned job. She continued to keep the "windows to her soul" shielded from his view, by tilting her head up to meet his gaze, with her eyelids shuttering her eyes.