Linden isn't disguised tonight. His agenda is, of course, but not his identity. So when he spots a (somewhat) familiar face, he makes his way over. "Hey there, son," Linden chuckles at the boy half his age. "Y'sure you're old enough to be drinking that?"
Oh. A narc. The kid doesn't seemed surprised. He looks barely out of Ilvermorny. He sighs, and sets down his beer cocktail (which was honestly terrible anyway).
"You got me," he says, looking Linden over. A similar vague familiarity is visible on his face as he clearly tries to remember where he knows Linden from, but he can't. "But in my defense they aren't carding, so that's on them."
"No wounded soldiers," Linden says, swooping up the discarded beer cocktail with his free hand. "How'd you end up here anyway?" Linden scans the room of art-lovers. No one else seems to be double-fisting, which he takes as a bad sign for this party's vibes. "There's no... cooler party we should be at?"
The kid scoffs, eyeing up Linden as he takes the drink. Luckily, nobody at this party has to be sober for long, and a roaming waiter hands him a flute of champagne almost as soon as he has a free hand. He sips it, apparently finds it lacking also, and loses interest in it.
"I wouldn't know. You'd have to ask my sister." He tilts his champagne flute towards the pink-haired girl, currently seated on the bar top and flirting with the fake bartender. "She's the cool one."
He takes another lingering glance at Linden before adding: "Hey, do I know you from somewhere?"
Linden glances over at the pink-haired girl and files that bit of information away. Maybe he'll chat her up later...
He turns back at the familiar looking boy when he brings up the fact that they might know each other. "Could be from one of many places." Linden sets down his double-fisted drinks and counts the options off on his fingers. "Broom sports, the Harkaways..." He blanks. Huh, just two options then. He picks his drinks back up and tries to corral a slippery straw with his mouth.
He scoffs at this, recognition going off in his head. "Right, Caleb's brother." His tone does cant up at the end of this statement as if he's asking a question. He doesn't remember if Linden's a brother or an in-law, but it doesn't really matter to him.
"Perseus Pahlke," he introduces himself, holding a hand out to shake. "Caleb and I were roommates at Harvard... you know, for a semester." If Linden strains himself he may be able to remember that Perseus spent a single Thanksgiving with the Harkways pre-presidency.
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thecrowbar2020-09-25 05:08 pm
A Well-Off Kid & Linden
A Well-Off Kid & Linden
"You got me," he says, looking Linden over. A similar vague familiarity is visible on his face as he clearly tries to remember where he knows Linden from, but he can't. "But in my defense they aren't carding, so that's on them."
A Well-Off Kid & Linden
A Well-Off Kid & Linden
"I wouldn't know. You'd have to ask my sister." He tilts his champagne flute towards the pink-haired girl, currently seated on the bar top and flirting with the fake bartender. "She's the cool one."
He takes another lingering glance at Linden before adding: "Hey, do I know you from somewhere?"
A Well-Off Kid & Linden
He turns back at the familiar looking boy when he brings up the fact that they might know each other. "Could be from one of many places." Linden sets down his double-fisted drinks and counts the options off on his fingers. "Broom sports, the Harkaways..." He blanks. Huh, just two options then. He picks his drinks back up and tries to corral a slippery straw with his mouth.
A Well-Off Kid & Linden
"Perseus Pahlke," he introduces himself, holding a hand out to shake. "Caleb and I were roommates at Harvard... you know, for a semester." If Linden strains himself he may be able to remember that Perseus spent a single Thanksgiving with the Harkways pre-presidency.