"Hmm, yeah, I could see Rook boxing, though I pity the fool on the wrong end of those fists" He remarked in what was possibly the worlds worst Clubber Lang impression, a wry grin on his lips "You said next time it comes 'round? Does he do scheduled matches or something?"
"The Forge. It's just some training" He said with a smile thin enough to hide his fangs, his tone friendly. He had no problems with spectators, but it wasn't his place to invite people round to watch.
"Well, if anything interesting pops up, give me a shout. I've got more time then I know what to do with, right now. The numbers....ahh shit, I though I had it memorised, one sec" he said cheerfully as he pulled out his battered old mobile, flicking to his own contact details "There we go, its "(##########)"
He paused for a moment, glancing over towards what was left of the cake "Hmm, probably should grab a slice before it all disappears into thin air. Do'ya want any?"
L’aire’s eyes widened and she nodded in agreement to Alda. She laughed casually at his impression. “Ah, I don’t think they’re scheduled much, but he said he’d let me know if one was going to happen.” Shrugging with one shoulder.
“Yeah the Forge seems really popular.” Her face was in a deep thoughtful expression. “It seems a lot just spar and have fighting matches of some sort around here.” I just want to fucking Dance. It's not that she detested fighting and sparing, but god there had to be more to do in this town.
“Oh yeah, I’ll do that.” She pulled out her pay-as-you-go phone and pressed in the Darkling’s number. "Thanks." The thought had crossed her mind a few times to get a real cell phone. Then again, she wanted it more for looks than anything.
“I’ll pass on the cake, but thank you. You should go grab some.” The Fairest nodded to the multi-tiered sugary substance. “I’m sure we’ll chat again soon.” Her smile was sincere as she encouraged him to go sink his teeth into ze cake.
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