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

[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.