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The grunt Vansin had elicited from Roen's lips with his parry and subsequent move to the Devil's flank was nothing compared to the snarl that escaped the enraged one's throat at someone grabbing him from behind. With smog in his lungs, his heart's staccato in his head, and fire in his veins, it was a bad idea altogether to come near the darkened devil, let alone try to restrain him. Yet restrain him is what Edward tried to do, grabbing Roen's Armani jacket and nearly yoking him off of his feet. Hollering in outrage, the Devil stumbled and twisted his torso to the side, facing Edward and pulling his arm back to punch the cyborg in the face.

A face which---Roen recognized. Teammate, friend, a*****e - this was Edward, and the Devil just couldn't hit the punk without more of a reason to. Turning his head back to Vansin, Roen spat at the Fiend's feet before clamping his mouth shut and grinding his teeth. The anger in him was receding somewhat, and one long look around him showed he was not only causing a scene; but embarrassing himself to boot. There was a time and place for everything, and the middle of a ball room during a formal event with formal attire didn't qualify.

"Let me go," Roen would say with a flat tone between clenched teeth, the flush of his face draining away in lieu of the new control asserted over his blazing temper.

3/10 - Fight End.

The ogre of a man would just grin as he plucked the bottle out of Ed's hand, that snaggle-tooth of his wiggling freely as he tipped the bottle towards the figures duking it out. "'Ave at em'!" He'd cry with an oddly enthusiastic tone. "I'll keep things lively on this end Ed!"

With that the ogre worked his way towards the table to pluck up an extra bottle of Sangria before making his way back to the table. He'd free a hand and snatch a few rotten fruits from his jacket pocket, a few of them wriggling with various vermin ((A worm or two, along with half a dozen larvae wriggling around a half-devoured apple core)) before dropping them inside the set of bottles and taking a long, hard swig.

Mmmm.... Just like tequila.

A smile, the vampire seemingly formed out of nowhere. He helped himself to a vacant spot, shrugging his shoulders ignobly and resting his hands atop the table. A casual motion of a gloved hand pushed dinnerwear aside, clearing the spot immediately in front of him. It was an exciting prospect to test the resolve of his opponents in a less-than-direct way.

"I'll try my hand, if only to tempt fate."

Viviana set her wine glass down on the table and clapped, clearly delighted.

"You sure know 'ow to get on a lady's good side Monsieur James." She said in that sultry voice of hers. Then the Lamia would glance up and around at the nearby guests.

"Who is up for a round? Texas 'old 'em. Winner takes all! I think the Signet can spare ten thousand gold or so."

The smile on the Lamia's face was almost feline. Like a cat who'd just been given a large bowl of milk. The Lamia was suddenly enjoying herself so much, she'd forgotten she was wearing a dress.

Vansin's eyes held a concentrated look for a few moments. He studied this new young man, this interfering third party. He seemed to be a friend of Roen's. This was good, this was very good.

"Mr. Jaeger, you seem to have swallowed something quite gross." He said, his red eyes trailing down to the spit on the floor, "Perhaps you would like to take a few minutes to drink a cup of water. I will remain here, and you may return to challenge me to a formal duel...if that is something you would like."

The Fiend then turned to the young punk who had spared Vansin from any further attacks.

"I don't believe we've met before, so you'll have to forgive me if I don't call you by your name. Regardless, thank you for catching Mr. Jaeger. He might have tripped if not for you. These things happen when one attempts to be too hasty." He mused aloud, and stepped back.

"I shall be here. If Mr. Jaeger decides he does not wish to return, I would be glad to have a short chat with you, young man." He added, and after that he simply watched the pair.

This guy got more likeable by the minute. The fairy's smile returned, and she leaned back to lie on the tablecloth as if it were a nice patch of ground on a sunny day. "I'm very strong willed. It comes with being a fighter." such was her explanation to the failed hypnosis. Her claim wasn't entirely accurate, though; she had a breaking point, even if it was high--and many battle-mongerers simply didn't have a point where they backed down.

She noticed that the watch disappeared, and incorrectly attributed it to magic, like last time. When asked about her name, the fairy raised an eyebrow--though that wasn't clearly visible from the way she lay down. "I told you, Esouna. Esouna Scraizent," she elaborated. Oddly, the 'z' wasn't the English sound, but something like a more dissonant 'sh'. A foreign consonant.

'Agüentar' slid a chair out with his right foot, pulling it up behind him and dropped his a** casually onto it; throwing his feet into the air and then pinning his heels against the nearest wall to keep them up. He slid his MP3 from his waist and scrolled through various songs till he got to Push It; at which point he stopped and slid the headphones from his neck to his ears.

He bobbed his head with the beat as he closed his eyes and dozed further into his daze. He wasn't all that talkative, and he wasn't going to go approach demons brawling and monsters and all that s**t when he was just some kid; as despite his confidence in his grappling he was still easily frightened by the paranormal or monstrous.


He slipped into his own little reality and would stay there unless something cool happened that would draw his attention.