[ He arrives at the bar a bit late, a small stack of books and papers tucked neat under an arm in tow.
Since Alfheim, there have been more elves in Asgard's streets, and with a distant pang of self-directed irritation, Albus realizes that spotting the man may be more difficult than he'd first thought. Pointed ears and fair features might stand out like a sore thumb, but that was of markedly less use in a room full of aching hands.
Smoothing the sleeves of his long, blue robes, Albus presses an easy smile into place, peering with bland curiosity to the corners of the room. ]
Action, backdated like hell if that's okay??
Since Alfheim, there have been more elves in Asgard's streets, and with a distant pang of self-directed irritation, Albus realizes that spotting the man may be more difficult than he'd first thought. Pointed ears and fair features might stand out like a sore thumb, but that was of markedly less use in a room full of aching hands.
Smoothing the sleeves of his long, blue robes, Albus presses an easy smile into place, peering with bland curiosity to the corners of the room. ]