Who: Severus and Amberdrake.
What: Business consultation.
Where: A restaurant in Flag Hill.
Notes: i'm in ur game spammin ur log comm
Warnings: I don't foresee any.
Taking a break from jobs that necessitate the corrosion of his soul is not a work hiatus, Severus would go mad. He remembers the man who contacts him over the CiD, remembers he pegged him for being awfully new and thus certainly under-funded; it's been a while since he walked into a job knowing he'll have to undercharge or work on barter, but maybe something about witnessing those riots is making him sentimental. He's not sure if that's a better or worse explanation than just doing something nice for someone new on his cohort.
The restaurant he's sitting in is one that he's been to before, both to get out of the house and to meet with potential clients; dimly-lit in a way that's subdued instead of shady, upscale without being exclusive, private seating, and no smoking restrictions. He waits sitting in a round, leather-backed booth underneath a low amber lamp, cigarette burning between his fingers, coffee at his elbow.