Welcome to Gaia! ::

Feeling slightly unsteady and dizzy from the dimensional travel, the drow gave the bartender a half-salute and raked her hand through her white hair. Then a look of sudden comprehension dawned on her ebony features as she reached into her pocket and produced the paper she had tucked away from the man's desk earlier.

Tapping Na'fiel on the shoulder, she slipped her the paper, and then asked quietly.

"This is kind of embaressing, but I can't really read it... I think it might be important though.."

Turning a curious dark eye to the mermaid again, the drow ran a hand through her hair (what was fast becoming a usual thing for the dark woman) and said plainly

"In that man's office, on the desk.." Zaniah was fairly surprised that the guards hadn't taken it away like her weapons when they had searched her. Shrugging it off though, the drow walked over to the bar and gave a nodd to hybrid before ordering a drink.

"Could I have a bottle of fireball?" A delicious drink the drow had encountered early in her escapades with her present room-mate.

((I'll edit parts of it later if I'm remembering stuff wrong))

Na'fiel shuddered as she felt the strange pulse of energy. It came from some direction, though she couldn't really tell which. It was odd...like nothing else but this very spot existed.

"This paper...it's some kind of research," she said to herself, incredulously, "It says something about the Shadow...and...I can't read all of it. It doesn't make any sense to me." The mermaid shrugged.

"But it seems important," she added. So odd...why would Franz leave this lying on his desk? It was almost like...like he wanted them to find it. Maybe he was just being overconfident? Who knew... It was a strange mystery indeed. Walking over to the bar, she made herself comfortable on a stool next to Zaniah. She smoothed out the paper, which was badly crinkled from its trip in the drow's pocket.

"Something weak, please," she said to the bartender. Being a mermaid, her body didn't process alcohol very well. She didn't have a high tolerance and intaking too much usually led to some...unpleasant circumstances.

"I don't know what this is, exactly," she said, "But I know it says something about the Shadow...or rather, Shadowkind. I don't know what some of these phrases are referring to."

Z'Kort watched silently as the two women dicussed the paper, looking embarassed because they could not read it. He grinned, shrugging a little and sliding onto the stool next to the mermaid. Perhaps the elf should take it into his own hands and read the thing. But then, did he really want to waste the brain power it took to read human script? No, not really, he didn't.

"Something weak, darling? Aww, that's no fun," he teased, smiling charmingly. He leaned toward Damien and suddenly his face fell to a more serious expression. "Do you have-" He paused to give a dramatic flair. "-food? I'm starving, buddy." The chips he had earlier were already worked off from his nap in the prison cell and his trip to it. It was a small bad anyway and he was a growing boy.

Being a speed demon didn't help either, his metabolism was at crazy speeds. The last time he went to a doctor's office to get a "checkup" he had to charm the poor, amazed man into forgetfulness. Apparently, it was way above that of a normal human being, or even an abnormal human being.

Kort toyed with one of his longer clumps of hair, looking wistful and maybe a little angsty. He was bored, they had been sitting in the bar for a while, and where was their alien leader? The martians were getting restless. Sighing, he pouted, his clothes were dirty and he wanted to change into something more attractive. Was there time to rush over to his-well, actually the woman he lived with's-apartmently and change?

"Only if I want Hybrid to be at my throat again," he muttered to himself, finishing his own thought out loud.

Silently drinking the potion in front of her, it burned all the way down, but had a pleasant taste, like overly strong cinnamin hearts. She had nodded her thanks to Dameon and then looked at K'ort with a sly smirk on her face. The drow could really care less where Hybrid was right now, only that he might possibly be back, and they would most likely still be here when he did. She chuckled as her sensitive ear's picked up the elf's whisper to the barkeep, and turned to see Arkus still standing there.

"What are you waiting for? Have a seat my good... male, have a drink." She had almost called him a 'man' and nearly chuckled at the thought. Zaniah very much doubted the minotaur would enjoy being compared to the humans. She jumped slightly when Na'fiel slammed her fist on the bar and leaped to her feet, frowning, the drow arched an eyebrow slowly and swiveled her elegant neck to look at the mermaid.

"Are you okay?" Zani asked, her voice worried but with a tinge of skepticizm.

The bartender they knew as Dameon snapped out of his thoughts and smiled at the large bull man. He flipped out a few bottles pouring and mixing them together till he finished a very odd looking drink. Dameon sets it down for him in a huge mug.

"I make this for special people like yourself." Dameon said and winked.

He then goes to the back and brings back some food. He set it on the counter for whoever wanted it. "Well...Hybrid told me to make some stuff for you guys, so there it is if you want it." Dameon shrugged a bit and then turned his attention to the door as they slammed open. A man...was limping in. It was...

...Hybrid.

That seemingly god-like person had been seriously wounded. Slowly his his wounds could be seen to be healing...very slowly indeed. His voice was rough, and angry. "Go to the room in the back. Now." That was all he said, and despite his raggedy appearance, he wasn't weak. He had obviously just been in a battle, yet no sound of one had been heard. And if one went outside, they would see no evidence of one either...

Those golden eyes were now blood red, the hood gone, and his clothes ripped and tattered. If one happened to glance behind him, they would see four wings closed as if they had been used recently. His weapons all in view as his once seemingly prideful cloak, now lay in tatters all about his body. He looked at them all awaiting them to move. "And take all the food and your drinks back with you. I need to speak with Dameon alone..."

Though Arkus was a bit surprised to see how one so powerful could be so pathetic at the moment, he decided it was best not to ask questions at the moment, and after a few long moments following Zaniah's departure, he followed her path, just to not make it look too suspicious, out of habit more than anything.

He sat down at the same chair he had before as well, another odd habit he had, returning to the same place over and over again if he returned to the same place at all. He was a regular in the same seat, always. If anyone took that seat, he would wait until that person left or 'persuade' them to leave.

And so Arkus leaned back in his chair slightly, tapping his large fingers on the table, wondering exactly what was going on, and why they had been sent here...

He ignored the mermaid when she stood up suddenly, but Kort turned his head when the door slammed open, surprised that anyone would take the effort to make such an entrance at this time of night. He blinked, well, it wasn't just anyone so it made sense. Another look and he realized that it was Hybrid wounded which brought even more surprise.

Interesting, their illustrious leader-creature was very wounded and very piqued. Not that Z'Kort hadn't seen him piqued, he was often piqued...with Z'Kort. Carefully making sure to keep his face in a neutral expression, the elf slid sensually off his stool and followed after their small group. It felt better than they weren't the only ones to take a beating. Wonder what Hybrid-ole-boy was up to? And wonder who he was upping with? he mused.

The small room was just the same as it had been, their chairs neatly lined up along the table. He tilted his head and smiled, "It's like home sweet home, darlings. I feel all warm and tingly now." The charmer toyed with feathery strands of his hair, slowly taking his original place at the table. "I wonder what father's going to tell us? Seems like big news!" His tone was like a perfect son's in the fifties. All happy and pizazz and excitement, a very unfitting emotion for the situation.