The more Saria drank, the sadder she became. The heavy liquor was hitting her hard and fast and she could already feel the effects of her drink. Soon she was on her third flask, walking into the bar area and looking around at the emptiness.
"Maybe I should close the Heartless" she mused outloud to herself. "This'll just be my home, not a business. I won't have to keep it looking nice. Hell, I won't have to keep myself looking nice." she looked down at the floor, seeing a heartless creature forming out of her shadow. She bent down and began to stroke its head, much like a cat. "Just me and my heartless..."
With a heavy metal clank evenly placed steps echoed off of the stone path laid out before the manor. as they continued forward into the seemingly always night sky surrounding the outside of what was typically a very happy place, a mans figure came into view. Hands hanging from his pockets his body was mostly covered by heavy black and brown clothing, stained with sand. At his hip was a canteen filled with liquid that swashed back and forth which each step. His hands were wrapped in in cloth covering his palms and seeming to go on to his elbows, difficult to tell as he wore a long brown trench coat that hung past his waist which was buttoned and covering his chest. His face was covered mostly by a flowing black scarf that seemed to dance behind him, grown out hair on one side of his face drooped down over one of his eyes, its purple hue barely able to hide its jade color. If he hadn't been wearing a long leather hat, that ended in an extended tip falling to his shoulder it would have been easy to see his almost feminine hair which bounced with movements and almost had a life of its own. As he approached the door he gave no second thought to simply pushing it open as if he'd never even left.
Saria's ears twitched as she heard the door open. She stood up from her crouching position, but did so too fast, as the alcohol in her system made her dizzy. She reached out to the bar top, catching herself from falling over.
"Hello?" she slurred, leaning slightly to see around the door frame to who entered. She saw a figure, dressed in browns and blacks, walking rather confidently into her manor, but she couldn't quite make out who it was, partly due to his clothing and partly due her to intoxication.
As the door swung shut behind him he looked around first in disbelief, it had never occurred to him that the manor could be left to such dismay especially after what felt like a relatively short amount of time. He immediately looked to where the bar was, reminiscing of past events, but no regrets. Before he could take his first step to check the stocks and help himself to the rarely touched stocks of liquor he heard quite a familiar voice. He cracked a small smile underneath his scarf as he noticed her sway trying to stand, this was not a sight he was accustomed to.
"How do you plan on serving patrons, if you're having difficulty standing?"
He rasped, in a teasing manner. He wasn't sure if she would recognize him but he kept his gaze locked to her as he walked towards the bar, hands still partially in his pockets as his heavy boots made no attempt in keeping him silent.
Saria laughed loudly, placing her flask on the bar top. "oh god," she said to herself, placing a hand on her head. "I've REALLY had too much to drink. Next Ralic is going to be stalking me as a ghost or something." it was clear that Saria thought she was hallucinating.
"What on earth am I drinking?" she turned away from the apparent hallucination and half-stumbled into the kitchen, picking up the bottle she had almost downed, trying to focus on the label enough to read what she was consuming.
Stykes stopped himself before actually taking a seat at the the bar, partly out of concern as the furniture was in the same condition as the manor, partly out of confusion in Saria's response, or lack there of, as she seemed to speak openly as though he wasn't truly there. As she walked away he decided to give things a moment to sink in for Saria, if the manor's condition was any indication to her mental state he didn't find any wisdom in pushing her too quickly. He found his way to the back of the bar and rummaged through the bottles, catching his eye was a lovely bottle of johnnie walker blue which he snagged immediately. Following he dusted off a low ball glass and nearly used the bars facilities to throw a small bit of water in the cup, before second thinking the possible outcomes of the action and settling with using what was now revealed to be water from his canteen, topping the glass off with the scotch he set the bottle onto the counter top. He swirled the glass around a bit before pulling down the scarf, revealing his dry chapped lips and olive skinned face, before giving the glass a much deserved sip.
Giving up, Saria placed the bottle down on the counter, or, er, accidentally slammed it onto the counter. She was so uncoordinated it wasn't even funny. Luckily the bottle didn't break, so she stumbled back into the bar area.
Her eyes focused on Styke's figure. She stared at him, as if trying to will away the hallucination.
"I can't deal with this." she said outloud, still believing Stykes to be a figure of her imagination. "I.. youre, I just need. I don't know. you know?"
He was unphased by her belligerence in creating noise in the kitchen area, sounding as though she'd slammed something onto the counter. He doubted it was in anger or on purpose. He stayed leaning against the back of the bar as she wandered out of the kitchen sipping his glass every few seconds while she started at him. It was difficult for him to not laugh, her inebriation obvious and her words still not entirely directed at him despite her speaking 'to' him. He took one last long drink of his scotch, downing the remainder of the glass. It was smooth and didn't burn one bit, his expression remained unchanged as he set the glass down to his right on the bar top. He crossed his arms over his chest before he confidently stated "What you need to do is clean this place up"
As he glanced around, noting the condition of the furniture, the heartless running rampantly, and the general lack of upkeep in what had always been a welcoming home to him. "I mean, where am I going to sleep?"
He added playfully after a few moments, not that he needed much having been a vagrant wanderer for the majority of his life
He wasn't going away. Was this normal? Saria's head pounded as she tried to remember the last time she hallucinated.
Completely ignoring what he was saying, she strode (or tried to) right up to him, poking his arm roughly. Her expression changed as she noticed her hand didn't go through. She poked him again. And then a third time.
Now her face showed some sort of combination of shock and fear. He wasn't an hallucination. He wasn't a ghost. Was he a zombie? Should she fight him? Wait, did Stykes ever die?
She took a step back, hand instinctively falling to her waist, gripping the hilt of a short dagger. Her knees were bent, obviously in some sort of defense stance, although being intoxicated meant that she was probably going to die if forced to fight.
"What are you?" she demanded, struggling to keep Styke's in view. Her eyes were starting to double and triple the images being received. There's no way the real Stykes was in front of her. He had to be some sort of imposter.
A figure pushed into the doorway of the manor, the black hood concealed the face from view. But judging by the arms that rested out of the once use to be sleeves. It was either a female or a skinny male. But going with the latter considering the tapered waist and the breast in the shirt. Once fully in the place the hood had been taken down to view an aristocratic face. High cheek bones, full pink lips and pale alabaster skin. Eyes an icy blue that would make a frozen lake be green with envy, hair a long and shiny black that framed the face. Seeing little shadows dart around the floor Ania new that this was the place for the night. Stepping further into the place she debeated on calling out to someone or not.
The sound of chains jingled lightly in the air, some hanging off of her jeans, and some on the jacker itself. Burn marks covered both arms in an odd fashion. As if something had wrapped itself around her in a vice grip. Well it was true but that story was for a different time, it was the only true mark upon that pale flesh.
Stykes curiously watched Saria as she seemed the struggle with the idea of him actually being there, it was quite entertaining in his mind and kept a crooked smile on his face. As she stumbled towards him he half expected a hug, but was a bit put off by a simple poke in the arm. At this notion her demeanor began to make sense, she didn't believe he was real. Stykes' confusion slowly dissipated and was replaced with caution as he slowly reached for the bottle of whiskey to refill the glass he had snatched. He kept his movements slow as to not startle her any further, there weren't many things more frightening than an elvish assassin pumped with hard liquor. Upon topping off his glass he set the bottle down, and kept his eyes focused on Saria "Saria, it's me, its Stykes"
He rasped slowly, being cautious not to instigate her any further "I'm not here to harm you"
He continued just in case she wasn't convinced, this was an inn after all, he began to wonder to himself if this was the sort of hospitality any passerby was receiving, and the condition of the manor began to make sense.
Saria jumped, hearing the words of the female who walked in, obviously startled. She was clearly not on her game. The combination of liquor and her attempts to be battle-ready put her in a bad place. She spun her body towards the woman who entered, still holding her dagger.
She stared at the woman for a few moments as her intoxicated brain worked overdrive to try and process what was going on. Woman. Saying hello. Probably a customer. You own a bar and inn, it's normal for customers to come inside. The problem is Stykes.
Her attention whipped back to Stykes, again taking a few moments to process what he was saying.
"It can't be," she said, muscles loosening slightly, starting to bring down her defense. "You - but - where did you come from?"
A brow rose as the woman whipped around to face her, dagger at the ready. It wasn't the first time that a blade was placed in her face. Nor would it be a last... though did she like it.... not really. Huffing lightly at the situation a stool caught the girls attention. 'What have I gotten into now' the mental thought made her groan lightly.
Value or vs switched to watching the girl and male. Well might as well get a show out of it.what ever issue those to had was more interesting then anything she was doing at the current moment. A whiff of alcholo greeted the nose and made her eyes dance around looking for the source of the smell.
still very unsure of what to expect from Saria in this state, Stykes kept his eyes fixed on her movements, but casually he let his hand fall to his side, gripping his glace and moving to slowly to his lips. As he finished his sip he spoke openly to the seemingly young man that had entered. "She isn't normally like this, I promise"
he took another short sip of his drink before answering Saria in a signature sarcastic tone "Well, probably from the same place he did"
motioning to the door where the patron stood "It's known to most as, outside"
he stressed the last part of the sentence as though it was some outlandish concept or magical place that many were not privy to knowing of.
Saria was bewildered. She did not, in any way, expect anyone from her past to show up again. She was absolutely sure that that part of her life was over. She kept her gaze fixed on Stykes, trying to decipher whether or not to believe him. The sarcasm was definitely his, that's for sure.
After a few moments, she put her dagger back into its hilt. Her eyes darted to the woman who entered as Stykes addressed her, and addressed her as a 'him'.
"She has boobs." she said nonchalantly about the customer, correcting Stykes. Obviously the filter between her brain and mouth was being interrupted by being intoxicated. "Well its about damn time you show up for your shift." she was trying to match his sarcasm but, well, alcohol. "How about you help her out while I go figure out whats real." She turned, stumbling slightly, gripping the bar top as she made her way back into the kitchen.