In Magnus Bane's opinion, and he had lived long enough for his opinion to mean something in the grand scheme of things ; New York was never prettier than when she was crying. And she was crying her heart out now. Thick icy tears were sliding down every window pane, every surface that she owned. New York was crying. And all the Warlock was doing was watching. When you had been alive for as long as Magnus, watching became something that you became thankful for. Living in a world that was constantly changing, surrounded by faces that were more like fragments in the never ending spiral of darkness that was his life, he started to be thankful for his ability to watch things. If you watched things you could remember them easier. A sight that was burnt in to your eyes on a daily basis was easier to look back on than a sight that was fogged by memory. Some might find the constant lure of his gaze unnerving ; having eyes that tended to flicker to that of a cat had that sort of effect on people.
The Warlock was humming to himself, a song that had no specific tune but still seemed to be one he knew. He wasn't quite sure where he had heard it before. A sailor's song perhaps? On one of the many boats Magnus had been on in the time before cars. A woman's song during the post warmness of intimacy? A mans? Magnus closed his eyes with a heavy sigh that seemed to show his true age. He allowed himself to listen. Listening was sometimes as beneficial as watching. He heard the sound of New York's tears hitting against the glass surfaces of his apartment. Oh, the tears that he had heard in his lifetime. All of a sudden, he recognized where he had heard the song from. His mind was suddenly taken back to the peaceful times of long ago. Times when the only thing on his mind was wine in his goblet. Dancing girls, all brunnette with flowers twined in to their locks, dancing with their hands clasped in a circle. Simple, easy going Celtic songs echoing across campfires. An easier time. He pondered to himself as he let his eyes open slowly. Where mundanes were just as easy to defy one an other.
It was Chairman Meow who drew his attention to things other than his drunken state of philosophy. "Oh my darling." He said with a little sigh as he allowed himself to sink back in to his armchair. Chairman Meow hopped up on to the chair's arm, brushing his whiskers against Magnus' face in way of mutual greeting. Magnus let a manicured hand brush against the cat's silk fur. The cat's sudden interest in him did surprise him, as Chairman had been in a slight mood with him that morning, as his food hadn't been right. Magnus, in a rare foul mood, elected to ignore the cat's temperament. "What is it?" With a frown, the Warlock sat himself up a little more. "Oh my dear Chairman, were you outside?" He asked in a voice that was acrually bordering concern. "In that brutal weather?" The cat in question just gave an attention seeking yowl of conformation. Magnus shook his head a little in empathy before he stood, letting the cat snake around his shins for a moment or two before he stepped forward. The music that was floating to his ears from the speakers in his apartment was a soothing wash of acoustic music, pipes and chanting voices from Ancient Greece and Rome. Music that was brand new to his ears centuries ago. "Go and rest yourself, dear boy." He said, picking up his cocktail from where he had left it on the table. He was clad in what he saw to be his casual clothes. A button up shirt and his boxers. His makeup was as perfect and as pristine as always, the eyeliner sloping down across the edges of his cat like eyes in an egyptian like swerve. His cocktail was a simple thing. A cosmopolitan if nothing else. He watched his cat snake around the corner of the door before he settled on a couch. He let himself display the smallest of tuts when he found a bra under one of the cushions, forcing himself to be repelled at the sight. This is what happens when you invite more than one Fairy child to a party. With a bitter sip of his drink, the warlock shifted himself on the couch, allowing his amber eyes to close after a moment's thought.
"Magnus." The voice was a soft. A voice that he barely heard over the soft movement of the trees. He was met with a blissful wind kissing at his tanned skin, the sound of long grass shifting in the breeze, insects buzzing as the heat blazed down on his form. "Magnus?" It was a question now. A question that Magnus found himself wanting to answer. He tilted his head down ever so slightly, and his feline eyes were met with blue. That blue that he had fallen for all those months ago. That crisp, and aquatic blue. Alec was smiling at him, sapphire pools blinking up through a curtain of night. "Yes Alexander?" The Warlock asked, realising that his head hand been in fact resting on the trunk of a tree. A lone tree in a luscious and fruitful field. Idris? No. Why would he be in Idris? He looked back down at the Shadowhunter boy, who seemed to be using his abdomen as a makeshift pillow as the lay together. "Are you happy?" Alec asked, and Magnus found himself sliding his fingers through that silk black hair. "Darling?" He asked softly, letting his reply hold only the barest tint of confusion. "...Are you happy? T-That we're together?" The boy said quietly. At that, Magnus stopped his hand from it's actions, looking down at Alec in general concern a slight flick of annoyance shone behind his eyes. "If I were not ; would I be allowing myself to lie with you like so?" He asked instantly. How could he think something like this? Was his love not true enough? Was Alec having doubts? Something as repressive as the Clave could change a boy. And Alec was just a boy. A boy who was now looking slightly panicked as he often did in situations like this, his arms tightening around Magnus' torso. "N-No. No I didn't mean it like that. I didn't. I was just...I was just thinking and I opened my mouth and-" Magnus had already shushed him at that point, though it broke off in to a small chuckle as he drew the nephilim boy a little closer to his chest. "Not a single fear in your mind, Alexander. Not a single one, my darling." He said in a hushed tone. Alec had closed his beautiful eyes at this point, just holding on to Magnus for what it was worth.
The boy always did interest Magnus. The way he could change from a raging, protecting elder brother to a blushing teen in however long it took Magnus to say certain things was as entertaining as it was interesting. Alexander Lightwood. The eldest of the Lightwood children. Magnus didn't blame him for being so stubborn. Something told him that stubbornness was acquired when one was the elder brother to someone like Isabelle. Alec who was the closest thing to an elder brother Jace Wayland could ever get. He was already a best friend. As soon as they walked in to his party that night, all those months ago, dragging Jocelyn Fray's daughter with them, Magnus knew that there was something between them. Something that was felt only by Alec. How painful it was to be loved and not loved back. The Warlock had seen the way he was staring at the golden haired boy. How, with every movement and touch of Clary's, he seemed to crumple more and more. Though he wouldn't let that show to anyone else. Guarded and protected by his own snaps and mutters of distaste. His surly obediance towards what was right. It may have been that that caused Magnus to spot him. Aside from the fact that he had black hair and blue eyes. A kink Magnus was not even regretful of anymore. It had been a good few hundred years after all. Even with the boy's stunning looks aside, Magnus did feel inclined to let him know he was being noticed. To make him realise that he didn't always have to be the one pining and receiving nothing in return. That he was something special. Something to be sought after. He looked down at the boy, half asleep in the laziness of the sun. Magnus brushed a hand through his thick hair, letting the side of his hand trail down from his cheekbone to his chin. He took in the look of his eyelashes, his prominent jaw-line, even the dusted freckles. With a little smile the Warlock leant down and pressed a chaste kiss on the boys lips. A simple peck to let him know that even in sleep, Magnus was there. Also, a weak attempt to get him to stop clinging on to his shirt so tightly. It was rather expensive after all and he didn't want to have to handwash it again. "Yes my darling." He said in a whisper. "...I am happy."The meow of all things, woke him from his slumber. As much as he loved his cat, the Chairman did have a habit of interrupting him at the nicest of times. The Warlock sat up on aching bones. How long had he been asleep? What seemed like a moment of reminiscence had turned in to a bitter sleep. Magnus noticed, with a annoyed tut, that he had let his cocktail spill over his shirt. He looked to his cat stubbornly. "One more word from you," He began. "And you will be the one washing it." A glance to the clock told him that it was the early hours of the morning. He heaved himself to his feet and was about to make his way to his bedroom, when he heard it. A knock on the door. Someone clearly has a death wish. He was inclined to ignore it and go to bed anyway, either that or blast them to pieces. It was the second knock that got to him. Six knocks. Almost a rhythm. It was that caused him to walk down the wooden stairs to the door. He managed to open it ever so slightly, peering out in to the weak sunlight. Magnus Bane was rarely shocked. Very, very rarely. The last time he had been this shocked was when he had discovered that William Shakespeare was in fact up for the idea of taking their 'discussion' upstairs. Magnus had obviously. taken his leave the next morning. Which was probably what lead the playwrite to speak of magical folk in such bitterness in his future works. At the sight of the figure, looking as cocky as ever, standing in his doorway, the Warlock forced his expression of surprise to fade to that of distaste. "Oh." He said, letting his head rest against the doorframe as he heaved out an over exaggerated sigh.
I apologize for the lack of…well, chapter in this. It's more of a scribbled prologue. Anyway, I will hopefully have the second chapter done and dusted by tomorrow. Reviews are loved as is constructive criticism, as I have little to no faith that I am writing Magnus' amazing character correctly.