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"I noticed." Cullys hand waved un-importantly, squinting a bit to try and see the bird clearer but, alas, failing. Ah well. He turned once more to Matsuo, eyebrows arching mildly.

"...you know, usually people who boast about liking attention run akin to those who loudly hate homosexuals. They're just faking it." A glance at patrick and the Irishman shrugged, hands moving to push into his pockets. "I don't know about dangerous but I hear he can play DDR? And has a bald frien...Oh. Probably the one who doesn't look too happy right now." Diacyn did indeed look unhappy and it earned Matsuo a light hand on his shoulder.

"Patrick isn't a secret Black belt or anything but he plays with chemicals all day and he's one of those guys who bottles up a lot of rage. Don't -try- to piss him off and you'll be fine, eh? I'm Cully, by the way. Who're you?"

Amber nodded in agreement to the status of the vulture. He did seem to be quite fond of the man, as he'd certainly not mauled him just yet...

She quietly sipped her beverage for a moment, her gaze wandering away from the friendly feline to observe those around her. Well, there was certainly no lack of company. There was, of course, the man who'd come in with the duck, now accompanied by a young girl who seemed perfectly content to indulge her french fry craving. Besides that she could see the candy cane man talking to an interesting looking fellow, avoiding the one who'd also approached - after announcing his sons sex to the entire party. Poor kid...she hadn't seen him since.

Yet, it was none of her buisness, so she continued analyzing those she could before returning to the conversation, as was polite, and attempting to add some small imput into it.

"It is nice not to know anyone, sometimes, but it can be a bit lonesome when you know so few people outside of your workplace."

Ah yes, the infamous hospital who'd kicked her out...She frowned for a moment, before the default expression returned.

"Not that they wanted me anyways, but on the bright side - I did find a date." She turned to look at her feathered friend, "Right, Heron?"

My, what a considerate woman. He hadn't initially considered her as such, but the prospect of escorting her on a more formal level did make it seem so much less of a thing than simply following her around. Yes, he liked that. Date...such a funny word. The Heron craned his neck to allow her rest upon it, a soft 'chuuurrrr' sound welling within his chest as his crown met her hand. It was decided, if only just at that moment, but he, the beautiful one, would be her date for the evening.

D.S. finished surveying the room and let her eyes land on Kat. Great, she was getting herself drunk. No demon of whatever sort could handle that much drink. She tilted her head to the side, debating if she should help the woman or at least find someone willing to take her home. No, she'd be fine. That shop keeper wasn't about to let a drunk woman endanger his birds.

The fox rubbed the back of her neck and noted that she was sweating. Withdrawal setting in, no doubt. A shaky breath and she opened the door to let the chill in. The world outside, despite the holiday, seemed dead and unreal. The street lamps were grayed out, only there to guide those who dared venture this far. The streets themselves were empty save for a passing car or two, rushing to get to a party, home, or maybe even to a late night job. Otherwise it was a meaningless existence outside.

Her green eyes grew cold as she watched the snow swirl in the light breeze. Leave or stay? Leave or stay? The phrase repeated its self over and over. Outside she would find an alley and shake until morning... here... she...

Had no one. She shut the door.

A few minutes a silver fox had found a scrap of meat on the floor and tugged it under the table, its four tails flowing gracefully behind it.

He should have guessed. Actually, he realized, he had. Already he had turned towards the tables of food, rendering his question almost rhetoric. He did a strange half of a jump when the bird nudged him, almost disgusted that it even touched him. His pace towards the table only quickened.

The choices were many. He noted himself feeling interested in what to choose for the bird and blurred it out best he could, not wanting to end up with the mistake of taking a bird that big home - wherever home was at the moment [a small few-room apartment he shared with a friend of a friend, or something] - let alone have to deal with it hours on end of the day. He hovered over a nice-sized thing that looked kind of like a mixture between two fish. They looked repulsive to Lyle, who preferred to eat his meat cooked and without scales, but he figured that for a vulturely thing such as that they would be a perfect snack. He moved back to the bird and crouched in front of it, holding out the fish[es].

"Think this will do?"

He swore the fish whose eyes were visible winked at him and he dropped it with his eyes even more buggy than that of the fish.

A fine guitar it was. Amber marveled at it for a moment. "I do...just a little, although I've never played infront of people before." Ah, but the allure of performance. By looking at her, one never would have guessed a few of her past hobbies, but yes, the girl had performed. Clown, Puppeteer, as well as having managed several unseen details - all of which had been hidden away behind a mask or curtain, that few people ever dared venture behind. Playing outright wasn't really her style, and the thought of making error before a fresh crowd caused her to wriggle with discomfort inside.

"You're not planning an improvinisational performance, are you?", The girl inquired. "Even if you did play, there's no accompaniment, and I doubt that anyone here is in for singing...at least not after the fight."

To this, she referred to the glorious string of outbursts the man had been blissfully spared from. Between bloody guests, grim reapers, a broken dish, and 'SEX!' being announced to everyone - it was not without unreasonable evidence that she assumed the general mood.

As such was the thought - she did begin to notice the strange creatures that had slipped silently into the gathering. Whether or not their intent was good or bad, she knew not, but the sight was rather unsettling as her gaze drifted in their general direction, her thoughts bordering upon just what they meant by comming in looking the way they did. This was a masquerade - not a funeral...

At least not until she would play, if at all. The matter of who was going to strum on it was still entirely undecided. It would be only fair to warn him of her limitations though.

"I play for rhythm, as opposed to the actual song. I can keep it at a steady tempo for the rest of the players - but I don't actually know how to play a song on my own.."

"Heh. You speak like I had a creative bone in my body. Oh no, no, no - that's my brother Aaron. He's the one that actually writes the stuff. I'm just a guitarist - simple as that."

His eyes scanned the room again, but he didn't really give much of a care who was listening, and who was preoccupied with their own business. He started to play - soft and mellow. A song that he'd heard Aaron sing, and had come up with the chords himself for. It was a very soothing and quiet melody - not at all in the nature of the party. But once again, he didn't care. Once that song was complete, he set down his guitar, and stashed it under the refreshments table as a precaution, before standing again, and offering his hand... err... paw.. to Amber.

"Shall we outside? It's starting to get a bit hot in here, and I've been dying to find out a bit more about you - in terms of your work and such. I've been looking for a nurse for my hospital. It would just be a walk and talk. I'm a gentleman for all I may not seem like one..."

He looked down at himself and laughed.

"Especially not right now!"

The bird ate without hesitation, as if it hadn't been fed for days on end. Lyle knew better - the vulture didn't seem frail, not to him - but he still stood back a step in case the thing finished and decided to turn on him. In fact, it didn't - instead, when he finished, the bird hopped once towards Lyle, wings fluttering just the slightest, and let out a short screech. Loud, as if Lyle might miss it otherwise. With another small jump Lyle inched back towards the table of food and blindly grabbed a piece of meat that smelled of rubber and offered it to the turkey vulture.

As soon as he saw the raccoon, the vulture happily echoed his cry and pulled it from Lyle's grasp. The raccoon was giving him this one-eyed, pitiful look - it wasn't that he was really hungry, decided the vulture, but he was doing his duty! The little thing was so dead that it was mercy just to rip it apart. To nibble at its intestines. To chew away all its sores and nearly its bones. He ripped a fine strip of meat off the dead thing's tail and sliced and swallowed with his head raised. Of course, although eating a tasteful selection of meat, the smell of Lyle's blood wafted past regularly, tempting. Ah, well, maybe not now; he did have a long time to try it, since he didn't plan on leaving this man for quite some time. When one saw the opportunity for food without effort and a bit of attention, one usually didn't turn the opportunity down unless you were a bit mixed up. The vulture definitely knew where his priorities were.

He ate the raccoon without objection and shoved what he didn't finish under one of the tables for safekeeping. Smiling, sort of, given that he was hindered by his inflexible beak, the turkey vulture gave a birdy belch.

"What?" Lyle asked, brow furrowed at the bird. "What else do you want me to do? You can fly, come on, get it yourself if you don't like what I gave you."

He gave the bird a stare, confused. It stared back. Lyle fidgeted and blinked and the bird spread its wings and crowed once as if it had become triumphant. It was liking this person more and more, actually.

"Why can't you take the job? Oh, nevermind about that for now. And I'm sure that there are PLENTY of interesting things about you. Your name is Amber, yes?"

He extended his paw to take her hand tighter, and walked from the doors, just outside, so they could get back in if they wanted to, later.

"Tell me about yourself, miss. And your lovely heron who seems to be following us?"