Not for the first time in her life Casia wondered what the hell she had just gotten herself into. But she didn't agonize over it for long, she was of the thought that you lived, you died and the time in-between was supposed to be as interesting as one could make it. The bland life certainly wasn't for her. The lull in the conversation gave her a chance to sit idly, her dark brown gaze taking in the room with more surety and with a quick touch to the silver star charm dangling from her ear to focus a bit of power, more clearly than a mere human would ever be able to manage.
The place would never win any awards, that was for sure, but the dark dank bar was just as comfortable to her as a high-class casino would have been though...the dancing pole gave some interesting prospects. Adaptability was her game, a witchling chameleon as it was. Pulling the small trickle of power back in, she sipped on the vodka. The demon's reaction to her offer was expected, she hadn't met one yet that wasn't willing to wheel and deal. Twirling a lock fiery hair around her finger, her eyes narrowed slightly, "I'll make sure to do so...since it seems I'll be working for them," she chortled. But then again, things worked for were so much better than free. Her eyes slanted toward her wrist, as if she were checking the time, though no watch was there. All it did was show her displeasure at waiting...and waiting...and waiting.
"Aw, ******** it, he's not coming," she muttered beneath her breath.
"Well, while you two chat up about employment options, I think I'll fix myself another drink." Cyrus shrugged, excusing himself behind back under the counter for his drink ingredients and busying himself with preparations. He hadn't planned to stay long, but the location did seem oddly interesting. If something truly urgent was happening, Rozalin would find him quickly and return them both home, something he expected would have already happened by now. Perhaps he was just imagining things, maybe she had only meant to arrange something with the guards so he could slip out and in easier. As a noble, it would have been...difficult at the least for him and his family if he were to be seen out late in the town. He had found a sort of peace and relaxation wandering about late at night between projects, free from the smell of old paper and stuffy researchers and able to hide behind the role of just another citizen.
Though, he did realize he was going to need to change out of this...somewhat revealing outfit eventually. Honestly, he was surprised no one had commented that he was there at all, much less standing around in boots, poofy pants, and an open shirt to begin with. Cyrus shrugged, pouring Vodka, Cranberry and Pomegranate juice, sugar, and ice into the shaker and fixing himself another drink. It was a curious thing, the whimsical nature of fate, and even the smallest event had some reason behind it. Was he meant to stay for a while? Did he merely need to escape as quickly as he could, or was this a place for him to rest his wings a while and enjoy the...rather humorously odd company? Either way, Cyrus was slowly beginning to enjoy himself, despite the suggestive and morose talk of what he could only imagine had been selling souls turned to working off some weird debt.
"Died quickly in here, didn't it?" the words were meant for no one, everyone and anyone all at once, whoever may want to jump at the chance of a bit of conversation. The vodka swirled in the glass as Casia tilted her drink back and forth in time with her leg swinging. It had been so lively a moment ago, enough to keep herself entertained without even doing anything herself but sitting and looking pretty. Fingers twitched on the glass before she set it down so that her fingers could slide into the pocket of her jeans. They wrapped around an old silver pocket watch, tarnished with age and ill care and tugged it out, flipping open the lid to peer at the face. There were no hands, just numbers circling in any whichever order. Forty-five was where the twelve usually was at the moment and the face glowed just slightly brighter at the sixteen...or what would normally be 'eight'. It was a peculiar piece of lore and Casia herself wasn't quite sure what it did...just that quite a few others had been after it also...so of course she had wanted it when the chance to snag it had arisen. The pad of her thumb swiped over the glass of the face, clearing off an invisible piece of dust that might be marring it before she held it closer to her face, just inches away from her nose.
"You're an odd one." Raven said, though his head was turned away from the woman as he spoke. "A talkative witch, I take it? You smell like magic," he said, entirely nonchalant and derisive as he spoke to the woman. The male picked up his pipe, reaching into his pocket and removing a pouch of tobacco to place some inside and keep it full before taking another drag and letting it catch. With another plume of smoke, the male exhaled slowly, seeming to watch the smoke a moment before speaking again. "So do you, Elf. One of you tricky little spell-fingers is rare, but two are rarer still..."
Raven turned, looking at the group and leaning back a bit in his chair. "Demon, do you have rooms here? I want one. I'll pay well for it, and some privacy."
Casia's gaze remained locked on the watch as she responded to what she imagined the man thought was a slight toward her. Or perhaps the words were a result of a natural personality shortcoming. Either way, she didn't even dignify him with a glance, instead lifting the watch to catch the dull red light, "I could say the same about you. Everyone is odd to some degree, now aren't they?" Finally, her gaze slanted to the side, an eyebrow arching as the smoke plumed, the tendrils curling upwards. It made her desperate for the pack that was tucked in her back pocket, but a resolution to cut back made her hold the urge in check. But ugh, it killed, a feeling outwardly shown by the slight flexing of her fingers around the watch. Restraint wasn't exactly her strong suit weather it came to alcohol, tobacco or other more pleasurable activities.
"Some wait for entertainment to come to them. I am not as patient." And some were perfectly content to sit and watch, amusing themselves with the actions of others. That had its own time and place for her. The witch felt no need to defend herself beyond the simple statement, her lips pursing as a free hand curved around her glass again to lift it to her lips for a healthy sip. Mostly human she may be, but the magic that flooded her veins had started changing her long ago, just as it had the others in her line. Making them something...more.
"Hmm, audacity. A curious trait for a human," Raven said, taking a drag and looking off. "Trouble finds those who look for it, though. Of course, that's not a bad way of living." Raven shrugged, blowing out smoke away from them and smirking. "A fight every now and then makes life interesting. Nothing quite as cathartic as slamming someone's face into a counter top," he said, acting like he was just saying something offhandedly. It probably wouldn't seem odd, even though he had already somewhat admitted he wasn't human. They had no reason to suspect anything odd, nor any real reason to care, still- Raven tended to like avoiding any odd racism about beastials.
"A sassy little spell-flinger. Ha, cute." The male snickered a bit, odd clouds of smoke escaping his mouth as he did. She was a fun one, it seemed. Of course, he still had to reason out the other two a little bit more before he could get comfortable. In his line of work, you could never be too careful.
"A little bit of trouble just makes things more interesting. Like gambling, you never quite know what you're going to get and the house is usually stacked against you. Toppling those stacks in your favor can be so much fun." Fighting for the sake of fighting didn't always interest her, however. Her skin was far too precious to her and she enjoyed having it exactly where it belonged - on her body. She tended to just rile things up a bit, have a tad of fun and then if she could, slip away into the night. Either that, or get thrown in jail. Her smile was probably too cocky, too self-sure, but it was there anyway. Whatever life had thrown at her so far hadn't quite been able to break it from her yet. A bit of sleight of hand, supplemented with a pulse of magic, replaced the pocket watch in her hand with a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. The quiet click of the top being flicked up echoed in the quiet before the flame flickered, adding the smoke of her own vice to his as she eventually exhaled.
By her estimation, she had spent far more time with non-humans than the lot she was normally tossed in with. So really, his talk of smashing someone's face into a counter was brushed off as run of the mill conversation. However, if she hadn't taken it under advisement that he could very easily smash someones face into a counter, she would have been a fool. And that was one thing Casia Blackwell was not.
"Sass has gotten me this far. I think I'll keep it."
"I like that train of thought. A silver tongue gets you places, most of them bad places, but you can't say the journey isn't interesting." The red-eyed male shrugged again, reaching up with his free hand to remove his glasses and run his fingers along the large scar across his face. "Ha. You draw the gab out of other people, lady. That's a talent," Raven grinned a bit, noticing that she's somehow made a pack of cigarettes appear. Not slight of hand, but it was probably the magic-user's equivalent of a parlor trick. "I prefer the simple life. Go from place to place, get drunk, get into a fight, leave. Rinse and repeat."
It might have been stereotypical as hell, but that life suited Raven better than anything else. Different species had their particulars, but it all eventually was the same with most of his kind. Oni liked to prove they were strong, Tengu liked to prove they were clever, Satori liked to prove they could ******** with your head, and Ookami liked to be free and roam around a lot. Of course, all of them also liked not to get killed for existing, so youkai tended to hide from public sight, or wander around in human form as much as possible. There were slip-ups, though, as Raven could currently admit to, rare as they were- they brought a hell of a lot of trouble with them in the wrong situation.
"Probably not the safest kind of living, but definitely fun."
"It's probably the Irish in me. Something has to be to blame for all of th' drinkin', the smokin' and the trouble I tend to get into. And hey, my tongue, nor my fingers have been cut off yet, so that has to account for something," Casia's voice had smoothed into a soft brogue, playfulness threading through the words. For some reason she was always drawn to those that were a bit more gruff...they tended to not care what one did, thought, or were. All in all, though they could easily remove your head from your shoulders for looking at them the wrong way, they also tended to be more tolerant. What an odd contradiction.
"Perhaps I was a bard in a past life. I never tend to stay in one place for long. Set up shop for a bit, get bored and then move on after my tales are told, my wares are sold, or the money runs out, so to say." The cigarette dangled from her fingers, ashes falling onto the surface bar. She swiped her hand across the mess to hopefully remove the evidence, quickly pulling over an ashtray for any future remnants of the burned paper and tobacco. Though she tossed out tidbits of her own self, she never asked him for more than he was willing to give. Information was dangerous and asking for it even moreso. One had to be subtle...and that was one thing she tended to lack. She lounged, elbow on bar, foot hooked into one of the rungs of the stool and her body leaning sideways so that she could talk and watch at the same time. A precarious position, one where she could easily trip herself up should she be attacked, but at the moment the witch didn't really seem to care. Her eyes caught the glint of glass and her gaze alighted on the until now forgotten vodka, her smile spreading, "A-ha! There you are!"
"I can never get people who stay in one place," Raven paused, looking around at the elf, demon, and imp- potentially at least, "present company excluded, anyone willing to tie themselves down to a single spot seems brain-dead to me." Raven nodded, watching the unusually amusing woman fiddle about and find her drink. He reached out for an ashtray of his own, tapping out his pipe and thinking for a moment. "Then again, I'd say it's in the blood. My kind...were never known for staying in one place too long. Fits being a merc, I guess." Reaching out for his drink, Raven finished off the last of the glass before pouring another one, wanting to catch up on his boozing while he talked. It would take him a few bottles of this stuff before he got buzzed, and he wanted to at least get partly there before the night started winding on.
"Go places, get hired. Blow up, shake down, beat up, or break down whatever you're paid to, then get the hell out of town. Messy business sometimes, but damned if it isn't fun." Raven nodded to himself, taking another drink quickly and raising a finger. "The off time gets boring as hell, though. Tends to make me riled up. Man, I'm not even drunk and here I am blabbering away..." Laughing for a moment, the red eyed male downed a bit more of his second drink and reached up to hold his hat while he shook his head a bit. "I'll find something soon, I figure. Just cruise about and check the shady spots until someone either recognizes me and tries to hire me, or kill me one."
"Well, I guess the only potential plus to being tied down is that you never have to search for a bed to sleep in at night," Casia flashed a grin, her hand snaking out to snag the aforementioned glass and bring it to her lips. She was still quite a ways from drunk, the magic in her blood making her a bit heartier than most humans, but she would be well lit long before her conversation partner would be.
"Now that's a job. I'm afraid I wouldn't be very good at it though. Not very subtle. Well, blowing things up may be in my line of expertise," the glass tipped to her lips again on a laugh, "but I'm more of an...opportunist. Someone needs certain things done, I'm usually the go to gal. Otherwise I guess I could be considered a treasure hunter and a jack-of-all-trades." She hadn't quite found her niche yet, even though she was in her lower thirties. Older than most of the women she saw traipsing around, but she at least had a few more centuries to go.
"And here I thought I'd really have to work to get a conversation out of you."
[[ OoC: Sorry for the wait, I had to grab lunch. ]]
ooc;; sorry guys. ^^; i kinda disappeared, i'll be back later, gonna go visit my grandpa at the hospital. so i'll just throw kaana somewhere. is it okay if i pretend she snuck in to one of the rooms or something? haha.
"Nyaaaah... Nyaaaah..." The demon snored lightly, he was asleep in a leaned back chair behind the bar, and probably had been for some time. Apparently the entire conversation hadn't interested him at all. Rather, he found this sort of philisophical bickering rather boorish, as the demon believed mortal life to be almost completely absurd. He abruptly was woken up by nothing in particular however, blinked a few times, and wiped a bit of drool from his lips. Nope, it wasn't a dream, there were four whole people in his bar. He sighed, looked at the bottle still in his hand, and took a swig from it.
Alice wiggled around as he licked the blood from her finger, it stung a little bit because of what ever could have been in his saliva. "Ouch Spiral-kun, That really hurts!" She squeeled pulling her finger back looking over it.
Alice noticed the little ball on the floor and she couldn't help but let a warm smile come to her face, she reached her arms out and wiggled her fingers "cuddles!" She flailed her arms a bit before stumbling over her own feet falling face first into the floor beside the ball, Alice the clutz as always. She pulled her self to her feet and dusted her front side off only to see several new faces walk in, Before anyone could blink her scarf was instantly over her face and she was standing behind spiral.
"Not entertaining enough for you?" Casia quipped when the demonic host awakened, an eyebrow arching in amusement. She couldn't seem to help herself and her tongue had gotten her into more trouble than it probably should have in the past. It was that whole restraint problem again, and the witch could talk herself into trouble just as easily as she could wiggle herself out of it again, "I guess I'll just have to try harder." The bottle of vodka was now half gone and she was feeling the warmth and buzz flowing through her system. Bad idea, the little voice in the back of her mind chastised, because the drink was making the dancing pole look more and more interesting to her slightly befuddled mind. Her lips twisted in thought, that little inner voice managing to talk her out of it at the moment. Her body was long and lean, slim muscles of fairly impressive tensile strength. She wasn't curvy, but had curves in just the right places. The glass traveled to her lips again. Well, perhaps her inner voice wasn't that strong.