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What do you want added to the Underworld?

Hot springs! 0.66666666666667 66.7% [ 12 ]
Fighting Areana 0.27777777777778 27.8% [ 5 ]
Competitions! (Avatar, Art, Fighting) 0 0.0% [ 0 ]
Events! 0.055555555555556 5.6% [ 1 ]
Total Votes:[ 18 ]
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McKlain stepped through the door into the Underworld Bar and Inn. Dead as this place was, the door was still silent as his foot falls. It looked like nobody had been here sense his last fateful meeting with Saryu. Looking closely, one could still see the blood stains on the floor. Part of his mind wondered what had happened to her.

Still another part of his mind wondered what the repercussions would be from how he had treated her for those months, and how soon they would come his way. Except for his faceoff with a bounty hunter in the desolate, wooded areas where he happened to meet up with a young, and beautiful, half breed lycan, it had been a while sense he had feared for his life.

Not that he was afraid of death.

But things were slow right now so, being bored and a bit antsey, he had decided to come back to the Deception to see what memories he could dig up. Or, of a more monotary value, what items he could salvage.

"I wonder what happened to the sisters," he mused as he let the door hang open in his passing. He ventured deeper inside. A table and chair had been left turned over sense his last visit, along with the question that had gone unanswered so many weeks ago.
Slowly a lovely young half breed makes her way down the path leading to nowhere she suspected, though in truth it would lead her to the Underworld Bar. She only wore a red corset that clung to her form, a red skirt to match making the outfit seem to be a dress, and a richly decorated sword attached to her hip. Her white blonde hair was pulled tightly back and braided down over her left shoulder. As her usual costom she was bare foot, she liked the feel of earth beneath her feet. Her emerald green orbs gaze about slowly, taking in every detail and placing it in memory in case she should need to find this place again. She lifts her chin high and watches the landscape change only slightly as she notices mountains on all sides. With a small smile she inhales deeply the mountian air. As she continues, still looking upward, she comes upon a building. She tilts her head to the side and lowers her vision to cascade over the structure. What a cute little place it was as well. She places a hand at her side next to her sheathed blade and takes up path toward the place.
McKlain moved deeper into the tavern, making his way toward the bar. Even in combat boots he was quite as a mouse. A life time of training tempered by more combat experiance than the average Somalian gets in an entire generation tends to do things to people. Like, for instance, get them into the habbet of being cautious. And of carrying weapons.

Some may look at him and see an oddity. Stanidng six-foot-two and being heavier, and stronger, than he looked and the fact that he wore lowlight urban combat pants, a white t-shirt, and combat harness whever he went, McKlain did tend to stand out in a crowed. That and he usually had a small arsinal with him. And the scars on his face, along with the miss-matched eye colors and salt&pepper hair, made it apparent that he was not your regular, run-of-the-mill civilian.

Cautious though he was, today he had the basics: sidearm, paired knifes, hidden backup weapon, and his prized vibro-blade katana. Nevermind that his idea of a side arm consided of a modified five-shot select-fire ultra-compact M26 shotgun minus the buttstock.

Yes, McKlain was a warrior. And a smart one, to boot. But, like everybody, he had his weaknesses. And, as it seemed, one of them was walking up the trail to meet him.
Halting to a stop the half breed sniffs the air slightly and smells a hint of a being, not an animal either. She crouches down and pulls her skirt up to reveal her legs. Strong and well formed like the rest of her, her legs proved that she walked everywhere and was well trained. She ties her skirt up at the side with a leather thong and scans the area around the bar. The being must be inside as she did not see any sign of life outside other than the occasional mammal running from tree to tree. She crawls on all fours toward the building, avoiding sight of the door. She leans her back ever so slightly against the wall and makes her way toward the opening. Her breathing was now un-noticable as she slowed it down to almost non-existant. She peers around the door frame and analyzes the being inside by the bar. She looks over his appearance and mistakes him for a hunter. She bites her lip sweetly and counts the amount of weapons she could currently seen though she was sure there were otheres hidden on his person, as she also had her own hidden weapons.
Stopping at the bar, McKlain picks up an old, empty glass from the counter top. There was grit at the bottum of it in a ring, evidance that whatever was in there had long sense evaporated. He sniffed the glass, tasting bourbon, then paused.

He had the feeling somebody was watching him.

A curious feeling, as it turns out, and one that people who live long enough in his line of work tend to develope. Turning around he glances at the door. It was still open and, because whoever she was quick enough to avoid being revealed, he saw nothing.

His upper lip rose in a light snarl as he thought about somebody shadowing him. Could be his nerves. There were plenty of ghosts in this place as it is. But now his nerves had been tickled. He would be on his guard from now on, although he did not think it was anything worth worrying about.

Old habbets.

Setting the glass down he began circling the bar to the back side, looking for some old, ventage beverages.
Silently the half breed watches him and smirks. She assumed him to be human, and as much as she liked human blood she was full. If he was a hunter she would have no choice but to kill him, she hated the filthy things. Always comming after her and others of her kind, why could they not leave them be. She quickly crawls over to the other saide of the door frame and leans against the wall gently, not putting too much weight in case it should creak. She listens to his movements and closes her eyes, since she had been blind a long time ago she still had the ability to estimate the general location of things with her other senses. She guessed the poor fellow would get wasted, thinking he was alone and she would have no trouble in taking him out.
Vodka McKlain thought to himself as he grabbed a bottle from the shelf. Oh, the memories. Too bad I do not have much cargo room with me. He placed the bottle on the counter behind them then turned back to the spread of bottles. Once in a while he would set another bottle on the counter.

A minute or so later he realized that he was thirsty. Unlike his earlier days where he would drink until the people around him got drunk, he had veered away from alcohol. Anybody from his previous life who knew him would be surprised by this.

Taking a glass in his hand he check the freezer for ice. With mild surprise he finds that there happens to be a full tray in there waiting for him. Nodding, he took a handfull of ice and deposited it into the glass before filling it up with water and taking a drink from it, draning half of it in a few gulps. Althoguh it had a slight coppery taste, it was cool and refreshing.

Although he was a bit paranoid as it is being in this place who's owners were, by their honor, obliged to kill him, he was blissfully unawair of the half breed waiting for him outside.
She notices him too busy to notice her entry so she quickly crawls in and shrouds herself in the shadows of the far corner. The half breed would not take a chance in being caught so she kept low, allowing for tables to obscure the beings view of her. She remained there and studied his mannerism. She hoped he would be drunk soon as she did not look foreward to faceing the sidearm he had. She bites her bottom lip again, though this time playfully as she anticipates the events to come. She enjoyed a good fight from time to time even though she often got careless and eneded up injured. Propping herself up on her toes and fingertips she sneaks a peak at what other weapons may be on the man.
Again McKlain got that odd feeling of being watched. Turning half way around he imediatly looks toward the door. However, as his head turns, his eyes zero in on something inside the tavern. However, he did not stare, nor did he linger on it. His eyes were on the door.

Absently he took note that it had been moved, although that could be attributed to the wind. He no longer wondered if he was being watched. An arrogant smile crept across the unscared left side of his face, almost as if he were reassuring himself that he was, in fact, alone. He turned back to the sink long enough to fill his glass back up before facing the rest of the bar again.

This time he sat the glass down on the counter and unholstered the shotgun on his ruight hip. Placing the mighty weapon on the counter top he spread his arms and began leaning against it, just biding his time. Meanwhile, anybody who was looking could see a whicked half smirk on his face.

He didn't want to make it obvious, but he was enjoying this moment.
Her eyes travel to the shotgun laid upon the counter and her expression drops. He knew she was there, or rather that someone was there. She cuses inwardly and stays still. She needed to think. How many bullets could he have? She glances up at his face and tilts her head. He was smirking. He enjoyed this. She narrows her eyes slightly and growls, quite by accident and quickly covers her mouth and watches him. She could not run to the door she would be a moving target. She needed a different way out. She glances around for a window but still keeps an eye on him.
The growl was unmistakable. He had no way of knowing that she was a half breed but the sound was that of an animal in precieved danger. Hunched like she was, it was only mildly difficult to tell that it was a human form. Though the darnkes obscured his natural sight, his technological gift made hiding in these conditions pointedly useless. She was stealthey, he had not heard her enter, but that funny little feeling of being watched was enough to catch her in an exposed position.

He crossed one arm under himself then brought the other one up to supporth is chin on his hand while leaning against the bar. His eyes were slits and his grin was of one who respected the irony of the situation. The shotgun, although it looked like a srange kind of sub machine gun, had gone seemingly forgotten and he made no move to draw his katana.

McKlain simply bided his time and waited for the creature ot reveal herself.
Her eyes watch him lean against the counter and she bared her fangs at his enjoyment. She grolws a bit more, he already knew she was there so there was no point in trying to conceal her place. Farthur more she could reveal herself and possibly surprise attack him. She places a hand into the light and taps the floor, hoping to draw his attention to her fingers instead of her actual body. She was not fond of being in situations like these but she supposed it was her fault. Eyes watching his hands to make sure no movement was made toward the blasted gun on the counter. She hated guns, they were pointless. A cowards way out of a fair fight and a cowards way to win. She huffs irritatedly and watches his expression upon being able to see her hand.
His eyes flashed briefly at toward the sound of her finger nails on the floor but he was too discaplined to be disciplined for long. Nor would such a distraction matter if she had no means of attacking him from where she was. If she had not shot him by now, then she did not have a firearm of her own.

He let out a sigh at her inactivity, then tapped his own finger against the bar top a few times just to mock her. The fact that she was not doing very much was beginnig to bore him. So, with the bottles that he had taken out to his right, he simply continued grinning in her direction.
She watches him imitate her and grits her teeth. He was having too much fun with this. Damned hunters, they always toyed with their prey. She sighs and supposes she must reveal herself. She slams her palm into the floor and drags it back irritably. Her eyes on the damned gun still she places a foot into the light and slowly slides outward. Her leg shows then her waist and finally the rest of her. She watches his expression, hating the grin he wore as it made her feel like a spectical to be seen at a circus. She snarls slightly the raises up to stand straight. Though she was only five feet four inches tall she was often time founf intimidating because of her breed. She looks around cusiously and ganws on her lower lip sweetly as was her habbit. She often times would chew on her lips just for something to do when there was nothing else left.
McKlain took her biting her lip as a sign of nervousness as he watched her step into the light. After she had fully revealed herself he had to let out a soundless whistle accompanied with a slight frown, a typical look males gave to naughty females. Again it was mainly to taunt her, although she was rather attractive... He would have to find out just what she was before he decided on anything outrageous.

Being stalked by a beautiful woman? Why is it this does not happen more oftine? Of course he was not so nieve as to assume she was merely a pretty face. She got in here somehow, and without him hearing it to boot. That spoke valumes for her skill.

He motioned his free hand toward the bottles witout raising from the bar, as if to offer her a drink.

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