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syorukyra's avatar

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The doors opened, even as Kai felt the hairs on the back of his neck prickle slightly. Maybe it was what could be seen of his person was clothed in the color of the night. That did make him rather a tad suspicious. He chuckled inwardly; they did have every right to be. The vials jingled softly against each other as he withdrew his hand from his pockets. Their contents mimicking the sound in their deadly song of tiny bubbles and liquid. He was a poisoner after all, not a warrior. If anything, he fled from direct battles if he could help it. Only cowards went head on to head without knowing the certainty of victory.

His queen had taught him to forever be cautious. After all, it was only he who could protect his Queen from the many greedy hands. His Queen was his. And he was his Queen's. It didn't matter the eyes of the outside could stare in. How he wished his mistress was with him, to accompany his ventures into a world that had only held dangers for his Queen. That's what made it fun wasn't it?

The woman, he had deduced from the steady grace she carried herself with, entered as the entrances made themselves available. He followed not too far behind, lest the door decide to catch his long coat in its cracks.

Greeted by a single man behind the counter of the bar, Kai dipped a low nod, feeling the veil attached to his wide-brimmed fedora slip further down his visage. The Velgreed took in the establishment for a moment, feeling an unspeakable, indescribable energy in its very walls. He shrugged it off and made his way to the bar, footsteps as unannounced as ever. Black gloved fingers made their way from the depths of the long coat to the brim of his hat. The bartender had offered drinks on the house, he may at least be polite. He slipped the hat off, letting the veil fall into the crown of the fedora, setting it on the counter beside him. Gold streaked black hair fell messily to his shoulders and he lightly brushed the stray locks from his face.

The same piercing gold eyes met those of the bartender slightly surprised at seeing a similar eye as his. He nodded again before addressing him in a quiet baritone.

"Whatever you may suggest then...Many thanks..."

The poisoner closed his eyes momentarily, feeling the weight of the atmosphere. His skin prickled slightly at the voice of his fellow patron, the woman. Kai wasn't sure he wanted to see the eyes of one with such a voice. The ebony slid one elbow onto the counter, the other hand unfastening the buttons of his long coat, revealing a crisp black shirt and a brilliant pink and gold lace-edged vest. A lace and burgundy velvet bustle at his lower waist fell loose from being crammed against his a**. He tilted his head some, resting his chin in the palm of his hand, eyes sliding over to the woman near. Slightly taken aback, the man rose from his slouched upright position. The scars...

The poisoner averted his eyes; it was rude to stare. He would have offered the being his concoctions to ease the pain, heal-- some of them were still pink, raw, looked fresh. One vial appeared between his fingers. The liquid within appeared like water, but he knew every single of his libations. It was placed upon the counter, in the breadth between them. He didn't want to offend. So it'd be left there. After all, the woman had the old reminders of the same torments repeated. Some took pride in their pain; one could never know.

"For relief." Kai simply said.
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The woman made no move to sit or lean, she merely stood unmoving beside the bar, arms loosely at her sides allowing the cloak to rest closed around her slender frame. Only the hood revealed part of her. Pale blue optics watched the man as he had worked, pouring and mixing the drink without missing a beat, as if it were as natural as breathing. When the drink was finished and placed in front of her, her eyes shifted toward its dark amber-pink. As she looked at it, the ice blue seemed to seep from her eyes, the colors of the drink slowly mixing in until the blue was completely washed out. Shifting the cloak to allow her left hand to grasp the drink, she would raise it to her lips and take a small sip, allowing the rich flavor's of the gin to mix across her tongue with the slight hint of raspberry. As she sipped, a small smile peeked at the corner of her lips as the flavor's exploded across her pallet. Lowering the drink back onto the bar as her tongue flicked out to retrieve any residue upon them. Her tone lightening.

"It's very good, thank you."

It was funny how such simple actions could reveal such deep memories, despite this woman having never met them. However, this was not her soul, and thus the body may have been new but the mind was not. The body had been saved from dangling in the abyss, her chain had been severed at the bargain of her soul. The shadowed woman had taken seven souls, seven separate bodies to inhabit so that she may walk freely for a time. Although her own body was locked within the shadows of her own demonic creation, Suiten, was not keen on letting her go. The raven haired woman may not be free, but traits of her seven vessels could be changed in order to make contact with old friends a little easier. Thus the momentary eye change, however other aspects could be changed as well, and the longer this cloaked woman stood there the more things changed. The scent this woman gave off grew steadily stronger, the smell of roses and winter chilled air filtered around her like a second dark aura.

This woman was aware of the being that had walked in behind her, her guard had remained intact the moment she had gotten there. She could hear the vials clinking together on his person, seeing them without really looking at him. His gaze had shifted to her for a moment, replaced with a vial of unknown origin. Be it poison or a cure, she did not know and thus would raise a questioning brow. The woman would have been flattered, the thought of being 'saved' as it were had backfired for her once before. For her soul now sat with the shadowed woman.

"Your poisons cannot kill me, puppet. Your cures cannot heal me."

Looking at him fully now, her eyes shifting back to absorb the colors within the room and peer through him as if seeing past his very being. Studying him carefully, as if weighing out her words as so not to offend him or the other.

"Do these scars disturb you? Sicken you perhaps? I've lived with them for centuries and I shall continue living with them. Nothing can change it, nothing has by now. I appreciate the offer, but I shall kindly refuse."

Her tone was as scorched as her wings, but still she would incline her head just slightly. Causing her dark hair to shift, casting a shadow over the scared portion of her face before returning to her drink.
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His eye blinked as the the scent changed. The smell of poison was intoxicating. Such wonderful memories of tactical murders in his past. Long are the days that such was needed, but..

"I'LL Never forgive you!!! You a*****e!" Scarlet, or at least her name was such, spoke in anger. The removal of the kinsman poisioned sword from her husband's chest seemed to pain her even more. She held the blade with such a strong grip, with anger and saddness in her eyes. She charged at the assassin, with confusion in his heart. Murder was easy. Killing the husband of the woman you loved was difficult. Being hired to do so made it worse. And feeling his butterfly warsword named remember plunged deep into her heart as she charged him with hate filled eyes... well, that could haunt him forever.


Snap out of it. The patrons rested where they pleased as the drink was made. For our man of venom, only something as ironic as a drink called Snake venom would suffice. He removed a bottle of cinnimon schnaps and poured in a chilled glass. Irish cream came in next while mixing in jack daniels to strengthing the spirit. A twist of lime would go in after, but not without including a small special touch. Detoxified Manticore venom, only two drops. A single drop could kill a the largest of humans, but thankfully, being related to a manticore gave some special gifts. The detoxification of the venom wouldn't kill, but leave a decent feeling of euphoria. After such, he slid the glass to the gentleman, hoping his stomach wasn't weak.

"A drink for a man who knows what poision trully is."

His body stood and looked to the scared woman, offering his joy for the company. The music changed to something of a quicker tempo when the words "It is a pleasure to meet you both, my name is many, but more commonly, Uriel." He looked to the woman who mentioned his name without his introduction. "but it seems to me that you knew that, m'lady?"

.::. OOC: Sorry for taking so long, the holidays are troublesome to prepare .::.
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The tunes and notes of the music playing lingered through the air from speakers unseen. Carnival was impartial, she didn't mind either kinds of music but she also didn't mind the quite. It gave her time to reveal the secerts of things. She was oblivious to the music changing as she watched the preparations of the mans drink with as much interest as a cat with a small spider. She enjoyed seeing different reactions from people and the body. When it was finished, she'd glance up at the Poisoner, not knowing his name that is what she had chosen to call him. Looking back up at the other gentleman, she would study those two toned eyes of his before replying. Weighing out the reactions of her words before speaking. Not many people would have believed her, anyway. So.. the truth was often perseved as a lie, but nonetheless.

"Long story short... I sold my soul to a friend of yours. The details are a little fuzzy, but apparently she says hello."

Drawing in a breath, she would then take a swig of her drink before replying with her name.

"You may call me Carnival, everyone else does. The mistress however.. she's called Raven."
-EDIT... -
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This time she did not mind the staring, looking back at him directly. Her prism eyes absorbing the colors of the room though masked the ice blue hues within them. The memories this vessel carried were not so vivid, clips and pieces of fire places, pieces of fighting, pain and blood. These clips scrolled through like small glimpses of movies, projections. This brought a chuckle from her throat, a small sound, yet oddly cool. Two split souls sharing one vessel, such things often brought different personality traits. This laugh was not Carnival's, but the shadowed woman. Much like projections, Uriel was seeing bit and pieces of other memories as well. Some weren't Raven's at all, but Carnival's. Clips and pieces of the woman being tortured or killed. Left to dangle over the edge of the abyss with a chain for a noose. Each scar was a memory, each on inflicted with purpose.

Carnival stared back at this man, Raven was there however not all the time. She couldn't speak, only use projections. Sometimes through memory or aura. Carnival would smile, the chuckle leaving her lips.

"I am Carnival."
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Tall black galaxy eye had no pupil, no center focus point, so when the golden cat eye moved to follow her scars, each single one, following the trail. The depth. The fresh. The healed. His eye followed scars to exposed skin, watching them dance, watching them scream. Her cut flesh, his golden hue began to glow slightly. And back to her eyes as the golden cat eye ended it's impersonation of a night light.

"Carnival, I got that much."

His eye, once again watching her as the Kuriryougan eye followed the images. His body creeped slightly closer as he caught a stronger scent, her travels from death to life, walking past time itself. Age... many a age on her. He brought back to the original question, not inquiring about her name, but her past, her history, her reasoning for being what she is

"You didn't answer my question. Who are you?"

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Kai simply nodded to the woman’s words, understanding her tone of voice a little better and returned the vial back to his pockets. He shrugged. Some people thought he was only a poisoner...but how stupid you would be if you could only poison. One little mistaken touch of your own weapon and you could be dead. Foolishness. He both knew every single of his venoms, each of their possibilities, their cures, as well as what humans named “drugs.” Gold eyes seemed to glow as they watched the owner of the establishment mix his drink, each ingredient seemingly an addition to the poisoner’s consciousness. Unconsciously, the brunette’s tongue slipped past his pierced lips, licking the length of the fleshy muscles.

The bartender spoke and Kai bowed his head slightly in acknowledgement, the beginnings of a smile fit for a psycopath sliding across his countenance.

Black gloved fingers wrapped around the glass that was pushed towards him, lifting it to the level of his mouth. A tongue with a single stud piercing through the center of it slid out past the parted lips and silver ornaments and licked the rim of the glass. He sighed softly, almost like a dead man’s last. Irony was so, so very delicious.

“Cheers and thanks,” Kai replied to the bartender, now knowing him by a proper name-- Uriel. He closed his golden eyes, tongue dipping in, changing the venom to its original nature before tipping back his head slowly and the glass with it as he drank. The liquid barely sloshed in its glass, past, past, past right into the poisoner’s body. It wouldn’t have any effect but the taste, the taste... the silver stud on the man’s tongue clicked against the rim of the glass. The world around him seemed insignificant as the poison sunk into his blood, its very nature turned into something unrecognizable from it’s original fatal form.

He set the glass down with a soft clink, breathing deeply as he felt the first licks of true euphoria created by the toxin he was quite used to. The same gold eyes opened again, appearing glassy for only a few minutes before introduced himself as well in a soft, somewhat rough baritone-- courtesy of the poison. It was only polite, of course. He would keep it quiet, to not disturb flow of words already between his fellow patron and the owner.

“Kai Velgreed, humble servant of Kaya.”

}{ finally D: }{
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The dull thud of gold fell on the old wooden table. "fifty" he counted quietly, and sighed. Reaching for the bottle next to him he pressed it to his lips and tilted his head back, allowing the last few drops of the whiskey into his mouth. The burning sensation quickly subsided as the liquor poured down his throat and he frowned. "Empty" he breathed and threw the bottle against the wall smashing it into pieces and leaving dark stains on his once-white rug. Standing slowly he reached for his coat, throwing it over his shoulders he picked the small bag containing the miserable fifty coins he had earned that week, and lid it into a pocket within his coat.

Selik Hammerfeld walked out of his small apartment home, down the stairs and out into the cold night. His sightless eyes remained motionless as he moved briskly down the sidewalk, his hood low of his brow he weaved between the denizens of the city, using his reamining sense to pinpoint their locations and stepped around them. Well over sixty years of blindness had allowed him quite the aptitude for compensating for it, though it did little to quiet his anger at the loss of his sight, and end of a dream.

His destination was that of an establishment mentioned to him by his last client. Reaching the alley the client had mentioned, he turned down it, and slowed his pace. Walking forward until he could feel an unfamiliar magic, he stopped directly in front of the doors, of the bar, smiling slightly to himself at the thought of the liquor within. He pressed onward, opening the door and stepping inside, sensing the energy of the souls within he was pleased to realize so few had ventured here at this late an hour. Establishing his endpoint, he moved toward the bar, reaching the stool he found to be farthest from the souls he could sense. He slid easily onto his seat, his hood casting a shadow over his eyes as he waited for the bartender to finish his conversation, which was mere white noise to him. He had only the sweet, liquid nectar of the gods on his mind. Pulling a pack from within his coat, he removed a cigarette. Bending his head down and covering his cigarette with his hands for only a moment, then pulled his head away, exhaling a plume of smoke into the air above him.
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The light seemed to play tricks with her eyes, for they swirled in an endless rhythm to the beat of the music. The colors mixing with each other to form new colors, the outside of her irises however would have been surrounded by a gold halo of pigment, however she was unlike the others of her kind and thus the breaking of that halo did not cause he to lose her mind. She was the last Prism, a Fallen. Left to die at the hands of her own father countless times before being 'saved'. There was no description for her kind because she was the only one. A half breed, a mutt, a disgrace to all the nations her blood possessed. Carrying traits from each, she was not accepted by either. Those that saw her shifting eyes knew her for a prism, but her countless scars that looked like they should have killed a lesser creature revealed that she was of the Fallen. The chain scar around her neck, the noose meant to kill her, was a brand of shame in and of its own. Her father, the false god of chains, had been sure to leave his mark so all would know who and what she was. She was not just a Fallen, but the daughter of the bone king who had led to the slaughter of countless innocent people, old and still born. She had been his weapon, his champion, his Carnival freak. Her love of blood shed and pain contributed to those scars, each one a mark of her triumphs or failures.

The memories that flashed across her mind made her cringe, her prism eyes closed as she drew a breath. One was not to be proud for killing children, not to be proud at all for being forced to torture and dismember small infants, starting with the fingers and toes. Her father had not been a kind king, and she was but a tool designed for destruction. Raising the glass to her lips, she would down the remainder of her drink in one large swig. If this was what he wanted to see, then so be it. She wouldn't have been able to stop the flow of memories from spilling forth at that rate anyway. When the light burn of the liquid reached the pit in her chest, then did she open those eyes, only to stare directly into both of Uriels. The colors swirling within them were no longer those of the mixing pigments of the room, but much dark variations of the combat and gore he'd have witnessed through her memories. Pigments of them swirled and mingled to corrupt those new found colors and scatter like stars. The emotion betrayed within those eyes was a mixture of pure hatred and disgust. Hatred for having to relive the damned things over and over, and disgust for the simple fact another besides the shadowed mistress now knew her haunted past. Her father was dead, but she kept on living. When she finally spoke, her tone was a mixture of rage and anguish, chocking back her loathing, her words were like venom.

"I am Fallen, Prism, and Fae. Fear, destruction, and loathing. A messenger of death, a harbinger of pain. There is no name for something like me because there is nothing like me. I am no half breed, but a mix. Some of these mixtures happen to live for very long periods of time. Others can be killed and simply regenerate."

Another breath would be drawn, a simple rise and fall of her shoulders as her right hand slid the glass softly toward him on the bar. A polite indication she may want another if he planned on asking her questions. She didn't mind sharing, but at what cost to the two of them? If such things scarred her, perhaps those same metaphysical scars may just rub off. It would appear she would be staying for a while, for she had chosen to finally sit upon one of the bar stools. Her movements caused the chains dangling from her leather boots to chime softly together, the ruffling of her fabric and chains the only sound she made for a moment, as if weighing certain options. She was silent for quite a few breathes, long enough to notice the newcomer make his way quietly into the bar. Another breath, and she would have his scent. As for the gentleman to her left, an unconscious smirk would raise itself to her lips. Must have been a stiff drink, for the boy was damn near turning pink.

Raising her eyes back up to Uriel, she would tilt her head slightly to the side as if studying his thoughts. Was this enough information for him or did he want more? Drawing an inward smile, that dark eye like an abyss staring into her very soul. Most may have found that gaze unnerving, unsettling even, however she found it oddly comforting. Like her own eyes, they were unique. One of a kind. Clearing her throat lightly, her tone having changed.

"Perhaps something stronger. The last was delicious.. but if we continue, I may need something with a bit more kick."

Leaning back softly with a small sigh, she would look up at the man with his curious two toned eyes. Very curious indeed.
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With no conviction, no judgement, no fear or anger, not even saddnes. With nothing but the same pure intent, as if the words she said didn't even reach his ears, he stared at her with no notion of a different emotion. Not even a blink. The story of her thoughts spoke volumes beyond her own words, as if the comment she made was a footnote within the life she lived. It was intriguing how all remain connected; through strife, through love, through battle and sin, saviors and repented. All were connected, for all are dammed anyway. A memory played in his mind, one of a similar fashion...

'Mercilous training. The constant training and killing, fighting and bloodshed for a lord who gave no explination. Us warriors of the Four-wing Clan surpassed all trials, and knew not what failure was. We are born infused with a demon watcher. Throughout the months, I have witnessed my comrades die of impossible means, death by some... mysterious foes. We started out at 40, the elite of the elite, not we are down to 14. Something is going on, and our warlord Meta will not tell us what is happening.'

'Today, Shaman from the neighboring village came to ours, for reasons unknown. My brother Mekkah, barer of the Martikhoras and I decided to find what was happening that we couldn't see. We were the stealthist of all the wings. The dark sky, illuminated only by the eyes of god, gave us fortunite cover for our intell gathering. Together we left the hut and made our way to the warlord's center, where the fire burnt the biggest. Behind the tent, we listened deeply. A shadow from behind would make this event short lived.'

'I regained conciousness, both brother and I bound to marble slabs. The Shaman prists surrounding us, speaking a language I know not. Maybe they weren't Shaman... He plunges a knife deep into my chest, but pain isn't felt... I dont understand. I hear Mekkah screaming out Zaven, calling to me by my name. I am so confused. The priest removed the knife, and my heart... I must be dead... but... I can see fine. I still breathe. I cannot understand what is happening... And then the greatest fear overtook me. A man, who wore four wings. An angel. He said his name is Uriel. He asked me if I want to be greater than what I am now. To give up myself, and life forever as his... shell. I am Zaven four-wing, barer of the Eion, first child of Erebus. I need no more than what I have.. But I know if I refuse him... I would Die.

Is this why we were created? To be hosts for Angels? My brother... he refused... He isn't moving...

what do I do?'


"Sweetheart, names are names for nameless reasons. Nothing exists within the name, other than what you use it for. A name, a title, a clan. These are nothing in the end. Only you, and who you are. I do have other questions I would like to ask, but first, a stronger drink."

His head turned to see who entered, the neck that bared an insignia of a angel slaying a demon, with the words enscribed 'Angel XIII' on the outer ring. His attention to the shadow in the corner smoking a cigarette, he would nod him to come to the bar, pointing at the bottles behind Uriel, beckoning a drink, if he wants one. He turned to the bottles, speaking to the poision man

"It is great to meet your aquaintence, kind gentleman. If you would like to indulge in something stronger, I have a treat coming up."

He leaned over and grabbed a large gourd made of red stalagmite. He also removed three cups fashioned in the same material of the gourd, and filled each cup with the darkened liquid. One for the Woman who requested something stronger, one from the poision specialist, and one for the house. He spoke to both patrons in front of him.

"This little delight I got from down under. Its my own special brew called the River. Its waters of the river Styxx, triple distilled vampire blood, Absinthe, and a shitload of black water sweetener, because this s**t has too much of a kick. Its not the strongest, but it goes down like wine." He corked the gourd and replaced it, but quickly returned to the two patrons. "Try not to let it drip on your clothes, it will burn through whatever isn't organic, hence why the petrified Dragon heart gourd and matching glasses. Got to love the underworld Ikea, they got ******** everything"

Uriel Lit a cigarette, and allowed the two to drink. He neglected to mention that he uses this stuff to kill minor creatures.




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Kai could scent something on his tongue, even before the sound of quiet, brisk footsteps to the establishment reached his ears. He was not of particularly sharp hearing, yes, above human at least, but otherwise quite normal. His detection of scent was one of the best, hence why his Queen would often coo to him like a puppy when the poisoner had the chance to indulge himself in his Owner’s aromas, whether sexual or not. The Velgreed did not even bother to turn his head, already smelling the blindness in the nicotine tinged cloud the new patron had brought with him. A blind man? Most interesting. The brunette shrugged, returning to tracing the rim of his glass.

He tipped his head again to acknowledge the bartender/owner’s words, eyes lighting up like burnished, sun-shone gold at another delight on the house... Something stronger. He listened intently, leaning against the bar, eyes like a feline trained on Uriel’s every movement. The oddly textured glasses were set out after the gourd was sealed again and put away before Kai caught his bad habit and averted his gaze to elsewhere-- say, the many bottles behind owner.

He slid the glass towards himself, eyelids lowering to half-mast as he scented something from his homeland. Beneath the black clothes of his, ripples swept over his skin as the toxicist’s tension rose in expectation of the very kick from the treat. Kai brought the glass delicately to his lips, scenting it as his tongue dipped past his pierced lips. The thin silver chain connected from his labret piercing to one of the many baubles through his left ear scraped over the smoothed material of the glass but he paid it no mind. The brunette’s eyes closed as he angled the glass slowly to tip the liquid... except Kai’s lips barely made contact with the drink before the glass was righted in his fingers. His eyes flew up open, a soft hiss as he tasted what he had not expected to come.

Just outside the doors of the establishment, the steps of a well-mannered being, trained like those of geisha, made no sounds save for the click of sharp heels against the occasional stone or rock. One would expect a beautiful female of some sort, and this new visitor certainly fit the description unless one looked beneath the clothes. It was not a she, but a he. Of course, no one knew, not even upon hearing the voice. He had his many layered, beautiful dresses drawn up slightly in one hand beneath the mauve velvet cloak he wore. The hood of the cloak, fastened by a ruby brooch hid long, ringlet-curled auburn locks. He quite looked like something right out of a Victorian fairy tale. Two almost unseen threads were in his other free hand, the threads only visible on a different plane. He raised his right hand, one thread seamlessly looped around his index, the other around his ring finger. The doors parted for the Queen and he stepped past the threshold in slow even paces, and the skirt hems were dropped back to their proper places.

The Queen curled the the his index, smiling so very slightly. The threads...
...were tied around the thin, black leather band around the Velgreed’s neck and the other around the harness that led down from it, circling the brunette’s spine. Kai’s head fell back, and a soft gasp escaped his lips, eyes rolling back, feeling his Queen’s assertion over his very life. His own fingers were still wrapped around the petrified dragon-heart glass, lips parted in want of many things.

“Queen Kaya Lathivus....”

By now, Kaya had made his way to his Velgreed’s side. No words were exchanged between the two and the threads had disappeared from both of his fingers. Withdrawn perhaps? The general feeling surrounding them, even one a passing human could feel, was that of a unfathomably deep connection that defined both. It as if poisoner had been incomplete, wandering around. Kai made no more acknowledgement of his Queen’s arrival, only stiffening and raising the drink to his lips, piercings clinking against the glass. He sipped at it like it was tea on a mundane afternoon.
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[ >.> Uri... was that last bit directed toward Binki stealing the good stuff while you were away? >.>; You know he'll probably want to try that, right..? ]


Despite the new arrival of colors, the woman's prism eyes hadn't changed much. Only the slightest bits of scarlet simmered within the depths of her irises, curled up within the confines of shades much darker. The woman's hair was black, holding a slight curl to it, not styled in any particular fashion and rather messy, stray strands fell across her face, casting strange shadows on her features. Her gaze lingered on the glass, studying the curvature before touching it. Raising it to her lips, she'd take a small smell to register it, the blood was familiar. Taking a sip, the flavors rolled across her tongue, sending a small shiver down her spine. A smile slipped across her lips, her mouth tingling from the explosive tastes.

"Damn Uri, you make a fine drink."

Her tone held a small laugh to it, however such had seemed to have fallen when the newer presence was felt. Her gaze shifted slightly, glancing out of the corner of her eye toward the new occupant now standing by the young man who appeared to be tied together by some invisible thread. Judging by his reaction, he knew the gentleman and quite fondly. Although the aura that came off the being was rather... thick. Drawing in the scent, her nose would wrinkle slightly as if she had been stung. Drawing her gaze back to her drink, she would take another sip, peering into the glass afterward. She'd never met the person, but she was never too fond of being tied to anything. Shifting her thoughts, her gaze falling back on the man with the curious eyes.

"Let's make a game of it. You ask one, and I'll ask. Deal?"
User ImageSelik took another long drag on the cigarette. The paper burned slowly, and curled back leaving whisps of smoke in its wake as he tapped the cigarette over the bar. The ashes vanished before they hit the top and reached inside his coat. Pulling from it the depressingly light velvet black sack, and removed two coins. Rolling them both simultaneously over his fingers he stood and moved closer to the conversation. Not out of interest, but realizing that he would be hard-pressed to remove the barkeep from his current conversation. Sitting back down a stool away from everyone else, he placed the two coins on the table a few inches away from each other. "Whiskey, strongest you got" he said, his deep scratchy voice cracking slightly to an even deeper pitch, and back to his usual.

Straightening up he reached up toward his hood and slowly removed it, though he did not lift his head. His eyes were often frightening to anyone around him, not because of the way they looked- but because they simply weren't there. In their place were dark holes, holding in them only small gold hourglasses. The outer rims of the eyes seemed to be burned, and as the rims met the sockets they seemed to be bottomless pits, suspending only the eerie hourglasses where pupils should be. 'Curse of the Magi be damned' he thought, clenching his fists.

'His hands were bound, he couldn't open his eyes. Selik was kneeling on a cold, brick floor, he could feel a hand against his head. "We have warned you" a voice said from above him. He looked up, trying to open his eyes, still nothing. "You have crossed us for the last time" the voice said again. Pain. Selik was screaming, he could hear himself, the pain in his eyes was overwhelming. There was no use, he'd experimented with the forbidden arcane, there was nothing for it, of course they would catch him. Those who feared that which they could not control, would always persecute those who would dare. The pain was more intense now, burning, searing the flesh from his bones.'

Selik shook his head, forcing the memory away as he removed two more coins from the velvet sack. "Make it a double, straight, no ice" he said.Closing the velvet sack, he slipped it back into his coat and took the final drag on his cigarette. He crushed the cigarette in his hand, and it, like the ash before it, vanished. Then repeating the same pattern as before, he lit another cigarette, exhaled the smoke, and looked up at the barkeep, waiting.
User Image


OOC: I am going to make this post short, and attempt to cover everyone. I wont be back on till tomorrow night, so please enjoy yourselfs


The game of questions was an intriguing one, filled with many adventures, and potiental terrors. Thousands.. no... Millioins of questions ran through his head, nearly all which needed no answer. His goal was two fold: A conversation and information. Half of his mind to bombard her with inticing questions was halted by the one question rile. Before he even spoke, his nose flared as the scent of new blood entering the place, his mind which was so focused on her, was interrupted by the entrance of another female...

Wait, something is off about the woman... eh, whatever

...was interupted by the entrance of another female, this one apparently some form of royalty. 'This character looks like she... she came off a deck of bycycle playing cards', Uriel thought to himself. He began to imagine his weaponry and if the safeguards were still on, seeing how she... she halfway assulted his new guest. This thought was quickly vanquished by the onset appearance by the Poisionist, one who seemed non threatened. The voice on his right, the Man who requested whiskey, was where his attention went. Uriel's hand reached to one of the 6 bottles under the register, green with a faded label on it. He removed a double shot glass and filled it to the brim. As he got closer, he looked at the reflection of the crystal-quartz bar, revealing a slight image of what would appear to be hour glasses for eyes. OR it could be his imagination, but he was definitely intrigued. Uriel would bend down slightly to see if he could get a better angle, completely inticed on what he might see, but he stopped when he realized it would be an invasion of personal space.

"This sir is usquebaugh-baul whishkey, meaning distilled four times. I decided to go the extra mile one day, and distill it a fifth time. Its got quite the kick, and if you care, try to drink it slow. It's very, very flammable, so do be careful." He pushed the money back to his new patron, smirking in his general direction, unknown if he would even see it. "First drink is on me".

Oddly enough, as Uriel stood there, he would seemingly clone himself and walk back to Carnival. Not a 'naruto'clone style, but as if he pulled himself out of himself, like a snake shedding his skin, but the original wouldn't move. Now behind the bar, two Uriel's existed. The Uriel # 1 would walk and collect the empty glasses, as the second one moved.

His attention went back to the scarred woman, walking towards her, but before he got to her, he greeted the Royal woman... Still something off about that chick... He greeted the royal woman with a bow, and a smile. "Welcome to the crimson blood, ma'am. If you would like anything, please feel free to order. We also have a well rounded kitchen with many a meal to choose from. I have a menu..."

He looked to find a menu, and realized he hasn't produced one yet.
"Or not... But if you would like something, I can whip it up for you". The second Uriel then walked to Carnival, and smiled as he said to her "Ask your question", while the first Uriel walked ot the Royal woman... Royal Woman... the person who he requested if they were hungry.



.: wahmbulance :. scream EDITED!!!!! scream .: wahmbulance :.

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