Silent may not have liked Loke...But the woman was pack...And well...Silent couldnt punish the beast in her because she dispised the woman that hosted it. So sighing she would grab up one of the bottles of fae wyne the capt kept in stock for her.
Sitting down at her desk she would pick up one of those bright green pens that sat on her desk in her office. On the paper she would write:
Loke- I wish you all the luck with your up coming show. Im sorry I cant...No thats I lie...I am not ready to take this step to be around you on a personal level. But maybe someday...We can only hope. But should you need any catering for your fete...Please feel free to call me and me and the boys here will bring you some back up food.
-Silent
Tying the letter to a red bow and would call Vasha to bring it by Loke's studio.
She felt sorry for the person knocking at the door of the loft. While the downstairs two levels where under remodelling, the loft was at least done but of course the only way to get to the loft.... climb three flights of stairs up the back of the building. Quite the work out. Hand towel long since stained with just about every color paint it could was drawn over her hands and stuck in the front pocket of her overalls. Moving to the door she openned it and blinked. This person, smelled of Silent and when the box was offered, she took it with an untrusting smile. Shutting the door she lifted it to her ear to listen, then sniffed at and even shook lightly. All those a precurser in case it was a bomb, dog shit or a live animal like a spitting cobra or something. Box was set down on the table as she sat in front of it like it was something that was gonna get her. The bow was removed still imaging the worst, but when it slid off and left the letter in her sight she tilted her head. Letter was lifted and openned as she scanned the lines. Well, shit me out and call me crap. Was this a beginning of something? Was this like the great berlin wall coming down? Probably not but it was the start of something, good or bad.
Letter was set aside as she slid the top off the box and stared at the bottle set in the box. She lifted it out, fingers sliding over the outside. She had no clue what kind it was, so while the gesture was humanly decent she still didn't pop the cork. No, instead she set it on the shelf above the wall unit of the sink. If Loke had knick knacks it would have looked perfectly at home but as of yet no knick knacks. So it stood out, staring at her.
Glancing back at the box she slid the letter into the box and the ribbon before closing it inside and setting it on top of the fridge. Perhaps it was a momento. Either way she went back to unpacking the large crates of artwork, storing them as best she could in the back of the loft between a large japanese screen and the wall. Somewhere in the stacks and piles of crates where paintings, from New Orleans, and somewhere was a painting of Silent.