Nicola's warm breath so close, her long hair tickling his arm, was enough to make his own hair stand on end.  Suddenly, discussing tricks and strategy did not seem nearly so pressing.  Aviad swallowed hard, and then gave a low chuckle, his attention intently focused on the witch.

"Not having you in my life, of course, my love."  He reached up to gently touch the edge of her jaw, running his finger along her jawbone to her chin.  "Or maybe that Cinaed finally comes to his senses and sweeps you off your feet, leaving the rest of us to weep over our broken hearts in your wake," he added, flashing her a sharp-toothed smirk.

There was a clattering sound overhead, and then a jumble of pale bones tumbled out of the rafters, falling in a mess onto the bar.  The collection of bones seemed to quiver in a pile for a moment, and then carefully picked itself up, revealing its natural form as the skeleton of a toucan.  It shook its head quickly, bones clacking, and then began to use its long beak to carefully arrange non-existent feathers.

Rolling his eyes, Aviad slipped his arm back around Nicola's waist, and then extended his elbow to the skeletal bird.  It hopped along the countertop and clambered onto his shoulder, where it promptly resumed its preening.

"I think the spirit is the only idealist out of all of us," he remarked, glancing back at Cinaed.  "If we're outnumbered, then we should be thinking about how to win allies, yeh?  Give them something to fear, like Miss Randall says, and then offer a way out."

The moody ghost was brooding on his barstool, ignoring the lot of them as if the disrobed witch slinking across the magazine page was now more worthy of Mannie’s attention.  With a shake of his head, Cinaed shook his head and kept his attention on the other two.  Who appeared to be joining in a united front.  Both in regards to strategy and their attempts to unabashedly flirt in front of him. 

His gaze followed Nicola closely as she pressed into the Israeli wizard’s space.  She whispered something in Cohen’s ear and though Cinaed couldn’t hear the question, he could make a guess based on the wizard’s response.  The Scot’s eyes narrowed as he watched Nicola closely, drumming his fingertips against the countertop as he slowly shook his head.  Bloody hell that witch was going to drive him crazy.  Was it really any surprise that he’d assumed she’d been with other wizards, given her willingness to throw herself at anyone that happened into the bar?

Did she even know what she wanted?  A smooth-talking romancer or a burly protector?  If she didn’t know, how the fuck was he supposed to? 

“Let’s stoke some fear, then,” Cinaed agreed.  “I can still furnish some trouble on the werewolf front.  Either of you have connections with the vampire community?  Plenty are already on edge with the dementors.  The air is already simmering with unease; it shouldn’t take much.  Maybe something small to put people on edge and then a broader statement?"

"Not having you in my life, of course, my love." The Israeli wizard knew exactly what to say. Or at least to any other witch. His finger reached up, tracing her jawline as her own dark eyes bore into his. Then he mentioned Cináed and her brow narrowed, unimpressed at the reminder. The only time he swept her off her feet was to throw her onto the bed; hardly the romantic idea Aviad alluded to.

Her gaze snapped sideways to catch the bulky wizard glaring in their direction but the clatter of bones made her jump. The bird reformed itself and her new companion wrapped an arm around her waist as she stood up straight once more.

“I’ve a few clients.” The witch offered her…Scotsman a shrug. He may have written off her little shop and business but such black-market trading build a lot of links with people. It was, after all, who you knew. An excited, very familiar smirk started to creep onto Nicola’s lips as she leaned forward, resting her elbows on the bar. “My new muggle friend would make a wonderful donor. He’s quite chunky. So much blood gushing through those fat veins.” There was a distinct excitement in her gaze, a glint of something delightfully dangerous. “What a sight that would be to watch.” Her voice dropped, tongue smoothly wrapping itself around her words. “All that blood draining until he’s as dry as a dog’s bone.”

For all that her beauty could make his hair stand on end, the pictures that Nicola painted with her words crossed the border into gruesome.  Aviad let a grimace slip through for a moment, dropping his arm from around her to snap at the skeletal dog under the bar.

"Because we don't have enough dog bones already?" he asked with a smirk. 

The canine skeleton was already trotting back over to him, eager for attention again now that Seamus had settled in to nap on the floor.  It pressed its skull against the mage's leg, mouth lolling open as if to allow a happy tongue to hang out.  Tzippori, having finished arranging its own non-existent feathers, had moved on to preening Aviad's close-cropped hair.

"So werewolves, vampires," he mused, running his fingers over the skeleton dog's smooth white head.  He smirked again, his gaze drifting over to the drifting Manfred.  "Do you want to come play with us too, spirit?" he asked, cocking an eyebrow.  "It's almost the right time of year for a good haunting, yeh?"

Cinaed couldn't help but grin smugly as Nicola's words created a definitely shift in the group dynamics.  He knew he didn't have to worry about Nicola's antics.  She could flirt and toy with whomever she wished but, at the end of the day, she was a caliber of witch that few wizards had the stomach for. 

Manfred seemed to meet the Israeli's glance and nodded.  "I'm in," he confirmed with a dip of his head.  "Haunting would be a welcome change of pace."  Cinaed imagined it had to be an improvement over the doldrums of haunting a bar stool.  He knew the older wizard held a (understandable) deep-seated animosity towards the kid that put him in this position.  Venting a little pent up frustration would probably be a welcome change. 

"I can pull up some connections on the werewolf front.  Let's pull in those connections and see if we can go about making a statement?"  They had been quiet for far too long.  They needed to clear their throats and get the world's attention, again.