Boredom is a poison(greeting thread retry...)

[Seth_Rahl]

(( This is OPEN TO EVERYBODY ))

"Can I get you something sir?" the young woman running the job of waitress asked the half demon. Of course, she didn't know he was a half demon. Less than a week a go he would have scared the poor girl to death with his appearence. But now...

He looked down at his gloved hands. "Just water." he mumbled, averting his red eyes from her roaming gaze. Obviously the girl thought he was attractive and...well, while not entirely uncomfortable, he wasn't used to that sort of thing just yet.

The waitress smiled sweetly. "Sure thing hun." and she walked off, hips shaking dangerously in front of his gaze. At once his thoughts turned to Shiva, his ex-fiance', and guilt shoved itself upon his lap, seeming to say 'Here I am! Lookey here, is someone, gasp, dare I say, regretting? well its just you and me pal, and the devil makes three!!'

Ifrit stomached the queasiness he felt and unshouldered Eternium Beowulf, his falchion that, like him, had undergone a physical change. It had not changed it its weight or power...but yet somehow he knew it was different than the Beowulf he once held.

That and this strange new ability of his....the Amaterasu, or Shining Heaven. At least, that is what his subconcious named it as. He had not tried the ability ever since he first used, for while it's power was incredible it was unreliable and drained his mana faster than death itself. Yet, it still seemed so un real...

Ifrit took off his gloves and looked at his hands again. Ever since the change, he had been doing this, more and more afraid that when he did he would find his giant clawed hands of destruction and blood. But they looked as simple as they always did now...white and plain, unscarred by battle. Reluctantly, Ifrit slipped the gloves back on as the waitress came back with his order; a tall glass of water.

"Here ya go, hun. " she winked at him. "You need anything and you just call, okay?" and she left him to stare into the clear glass, alone in the shadows of his own doubt.

[BlackAndBlueEyes]

Let's face it. Not every day can be all sunshine and butterflies. I'm not sure what has come over me lately... I've just felt this pent up rage for the past few days. Perhaps I've just been getting cabin fever staying couped up in an inn, seeing as there's very little work coming my way lately. I even almost removed the rest of the old innkeeper's decaying teeth when he told me that a hot bath would cost extra.

There were a couple things I needed right now: A good, stiff drink and a throat to slit. Luckily for me, however, I knew where I could legally find one of those. My travels brought me to Underwood, the quiet town sitting smack dab in the middle of Concordia Forest. The citizens were polite enough to point me in the direction of the famed Peaceful Promenade tavern, which is widely considered to be one of the best in all of Corone.

I decided to give it a shot, and made my way to the old building. As I opened the oak door, the sounds and smells that were all too familiar to me exploded out into the generally quiet town atmosphere. A quick survey around the room confirmed that this place was indeed popular--there were plenty of other humans, with a good dose of elves and dwarfs mixed in.

There was no way that I was planning on consorting with any of them, though. I was just going to calm my nerves with some alcohol, under-tip the barmaid because there's a good chance she'll screw up my order, and get out of there without being noticed. Too many people around me at once tends to freak me out, and with my current state of mind, I might end up doing some population thinning.

There was an open seat at the bar, which I quickly made my way towards. I sat down as the barmaid approached me, a noticeably forced smile crossing her face. "Hi, what can I get for you?"

"A Bloody Mary, please."

"Sure thing!"

The attractive brunette scurried away to mix my drink. I brought my satchel to my lap, fingering around inside for one of the little glass vials I kept therein. I happened a glance at the person sitting next to me. The poor guy was staring at his drink, the look on his face telling me that he had quite a lot on his mind. He was sort of pathetic looking in that manner.

The barmaid lightly set down my own drink in front of me. I muttered a thanks as I tossed a few gold coins onto the bar. By then, I had found the vial I was looking for. I quickly twisted off the cork stopper and poured its thick crimson contents into my glass.

For fuck's sake, why call it a Bloody Mary when there's no blood in it?

[Seth_Rahl]

Ifrit started. The woman that had sat next to him had dumped what seemed to be blood in her drink, and absently the demon wondered if she were a vampire. However, his heightened senses told him that she was simply what she appeared to be: a pissed off woman with a deadly demeanor.

At first he thought some light conversation might cheer both of them up, but the look on her face when she glanced at him was not one of interest but of pity. He hated it, and wished she would wipe it off her face. If he still had his other form, he probably could have scared the woman shitless by now, but as it was he looked like a pathetic young man with a sword too big for his size.

At least his abilities hadn't changed.

so he stayed silent as his companion, gently sipping from the glass of water before setting it down once more.

[BlackAndBlueEyes]

A dull roar from the tavern's ambiance pounded in my skull as I wrapped my thin fingers around my glass. I always hated groups of people like this--they were rambunctious, boisterous, and quite possibly violent if enough alcohol was in their systems. Every time I chose to enter one of these dives, a fight usually broke out soon after--fights occasionally started by myself after a few were in my system and some bastard needed his beer goggled adjusted a few inches across his face.

I slowly brought the drink to my lips. The taste of vodka, tomato juice, and blood quickly reminded me why I was here in the first place. I closed my eyes to reflect on the past couple weeks. I had taken one job on, but it was a simple one: In, kill, and bail. Wasn't even worth the small amount of gold I was paid for my skills. But then again, desperation is a two-way road, and I have to make a living somehow.

I noticed that my lipstick had left a little black smudge on the edge of the glass as I set it down. I quickly removed it with my sleeve, and let out a small side.

I was bored as all fuck, a kind of boredom that not even a drink could cure. What the hell was wrong with me?

I glanced over again at the person sitting next to me. His face remained stone cold sad. I couldn't help but to feel sorry for the guy now; he almost reminded me of myself with that look of distant sorrow. Maybe a little bit of conversation wouldn't hurt...

"Hey," I said with a polite nod. It had been a while since I indulged in casual conversation, so I was probably going to be a bit rusty. "You don't look too happy tonight."

[Seth_Rahl]

She spoke. It surprised Ifrit--she had looked like the least person to start up a conversation, especially with someone she had just met. Well, he had met stranger people.

As she had set her own glass down he noticed she wore black lipstick for the first time. Why this unsettled he didn't know, but looked away from that smudge of black before it consumed him.

"Not surprising. But you wouldn't believe me if I told you." He nodded politely as well, before grasping his own glass and drank from it.

[BlackAndBlueEyes]

As the man's gaze went back to his own drink, I could feel mine slipping away. There was something about the tone of his voice... Sounded to me like he had a lot on his plate and was trying to hide it, but a small part of him wanted to get it off his chest.

I took another sip of my own drink, eyeing the collection of alcohol and wine bottles that lined the mirrored wall behind the bar. I could see my own disheveled reflection between the translucent glass bottles, my raven-black bangs going every which way.

There was something about this guy, I couldn't quite put my finger on it. I could feel a sort of strangeness about him. He definitely had a secret or two. We sat for a while longer, the noises coming from the patrons serving to amplify the silence between us. I took another sip of my drink as I racked my brain for some way to end the silence.

"I won't believe you? Try me. I've seen some crazy shit in my days." I'm such a liar. I probably wouldn't believe a word he said to me. But, alas, my curiosity was overwhelming my common sense--the bit that tells me to leave strangers alone, anyways. If anything, at least it would provide some free entertainment as I downed my Bloody Mary.

[Seth_Rahl]

He glanced at her. She sounded like she was serious, but he still had doubts. Even though she wore strange clothing and poured blood into her drinks, she didn't seem like the type to actually believe that demons and their kin existed. Well, it didn't matter if she believed him or not. He decided in that instant that he would get at least a little off his chest.

"Fine. To put it simply, i'm a half demon, and until a little while ago you would have ran screaming from simply my smile. Its not like I could hide it. But now..." He narrowed his eyes. "Well, lets just say i'm not used to this form."

[BlackAndBlueEyes]

And as soon as the story begun, it was over with. Less than fifty words of life story for my entertainment. To call it disappointing would be a vast understatement. I crossed my arms and set them on the table, now choosing to ignore my drink rather than the man--a first for me.

"That's it? You're moping about not being used to your body? That's pretty lame, don't you think? I've heard some pretty sick stories about demons being expelled from Haidia and forced to take on human forms, and I'm damn certain that they've had other problems to worry about more than getting used to their new bodies."

I took a quick sip of my drink before I continued my... er, rather uncharacteristic tirade. "I would be able to understand your mood a little bit better if, say, your village was recently attacked and burned to ashes and you were the only survivor, or if your family stabbed you in the back and left you for dead, like mine basically did. But come on!"

I turned away in disgust--half because of his wimpy reason to be in a funk, half because I actually acted like I gave a damn what his story was. I didn't bother concealing my disappointment in my voice, and could give a rat's ass how rude he thought I was.

I wrapped my bony fingers around my glass and took another sip of my drink.

[Seth_Rahl]

He stared once more, again caught off by her attitude and words. "What?! You know demons from Haidia?" Suddenly the woman seemed a lot more dangerous. If she knew demons personally, then no matter what she said or what his senses told she couldn't be human.

He half reached for E. Beowulf, but decided against it. There wasn't any point in picking a fight with a stranger who really hadn't done anything wrong. Inwardly, Ifrit frowned at the choice of words. If he had been in his original form, he certainly would have grabbed the woman by the neck at her insolent tone and words. Maybe this form had changed some of him.

In anycase, he relaxed again. Her words echoed in his mind, and he realized that she was right. What was he moping about? He was still Ifrit, demonic body or no body. "Well, there are some things in my past that have been bothering me as well...like the fact that i'm engaged to a girl that i'll never see again." He sighed and ran his gloved hands through his own raven hair. "Why am I telling you this? Your just a stranger." He glanced at her but didn't allow her to speak. "Anyways, those kind of things have happened to me before, but I guess it never really mattered to me before."

He considered her words once more. "You said you knew demons from Haidia. What happened to it? And, by chance, would you know of a devil named Arioch?"

He glanced away as he chose these next words carefully. "He's....he's my father."

[BlackAndBlueEyes]

I couldn't help but to think to chuckle when he said that I was just a stranger. Indeed I was just another face that he would forget as soon as he closed his eyes to sleep away the remaining nighttime hours, and I would probably follow suit when I eventually passed out from exhaustion. But there was something about demons that always intrigued me.

"No, I can't say I'm familiar with that name." The tone of my voice, the flow of my words became less forced and felt more natural. "I never actually met any exiles from Haidia... See, most kids got bedtime stories about the escapades of anthropomorphic animals doing crazy shit. My parents would spin yarns about bloody confrontations between the demons, the losers more often than not exiled above ground, forced to spend the rest of their days wearing the flesh of humans."

I quickly retracted back into myself at the thought of my parents. I still hated their guts for what they and my two remaining brothers did to me... I instinctively reached for my drink and downed a sizable amount. The small amount of blood I added to it calmed me down somewhat. I began fidgeting, drawing a small amount of my choke wire out from beneath my purple sleeve and playing with it.

[Seth_Rahl]

Ifrit's senses immediately picked up the change of attitude in her and he tensed once more, his hand flowing slightly to the hidden curved dagger in his coat. This woman was dangerous, no doubt about that.

The waitress came over again and was about to ask something when Ifrit flashed her with his red eyess, stopping her in her tracks. "I don't think you want to pester her right now" he mouthed, surrepticiously pointing at the strangely dressed woman beside him.

The waitress nodded and walked away.

He noticed the woman playing with something in her hands and saw it was a choke wire, otherwise known as a garrote wire. "Your an assasin?" he asked conversationally. With luck, she would be a full-fledged garroter. He was always intrigued when he saw their craftsmanship in death as they barely seemed to move their bodies at all, but tear apart their enemies mercilessly.

Thankfully, the last time he saw a garrote master was back at his own temple, and that one had been on their side. Unfortunately, if she was one and was willing to kill him, he wouldn't know what to do to defend him self.

Hey, when one was a demon he had to consider all possibilities, no matter how proposterous.

[BlackAndBlueEyes]

"Hmm?" I looked at the man, back at the wire that was twirled around my fingers, then back at him. "Yeah, I'm an assassin."

I noticed that he took a special interest in my wire, so I decided to elaborate. "I'm well versed in the art of kicking someone's ass hand to hand, but I prefer this thing to finish the job. You can slash, impale, and shoot anyone and call it a day, but there's something special about wrapping a wire around their throat, watching as the life slowly and painfully drains from their eyes..."

My thoughts wandered off the beaten path of this conversation and frolicked in a forest of memories I had of the many people I've killed over the years; the futile pleas of mercy that were wrought on their faces as they drifted off into the afterworld. I felt that strangling was the most personal way to off someone.

My attention snapped back to the man. "Sorry, sort of drifted off for a second." For the first time all night, I sized him up, noticing every detail possible. That was when I saw a huge falchion he had strapped to him. "So, how about you? What do you do for a living?"

While waiting for his response, I finished off my first drink and flagged down the barmaid for a second one. I hope that I still have another vial of blood in that satchel...

[Seth_Rahl]

"I'm what you could call a jack of all trades, but really I'm a mercenary on a quest." Relaxed now that he knew she wasn't a garroter, but still a little dissapointed, he felt a connection with the odd assassin, and knew this wasn't a conversation that would end soon. "I'm affiliated with the Bladewraiths as the the Seventh Company Captain, but that title long ago had any meaning to me."

He fingered the red amulet that all bladewraiths wear. It had been so long since he had been back there. Maybe he should go back and test him self. As the assassin ordered another drink, he noticed her rummaging through her bag, and from the now empty bottle of blood she had poured in to her drink he assumed she was looking for another such vial.

Trying to make his new companion as comfortable as possible, he reached over and grabbed the empty vial. Before she could voice any protests or perhaps whip out that deadly wire of hers, he had taken his curved knife out and gently made a gash on his wrist, and red blood mixed with the black of his demon side flowed out into the empty bottle. He stared, fascinated at the sight of his own blood. While he had been cut in battle before and caused to bleed, he had never taken the time to study it. Of course, if he did, he wouldn't be here right now: instead, his opponent would be the victor and he would be the one dead on the floor.

When the vial was near full, he closed the cap back on before clutching the open wound tightly with his other hand, now ungloved. "There you go. I don't know why you like the taste of blood, since you are a human, but since you do you might as well not waste any precious pints you have there in your bag. Mine, while not as sweet or bitter as you expect, will suffice." He spoke these word calmly as he concetrated on healing the wound on his wrist, and sure enough he could feel it closing already.

[BlackAndBlueEyes]

I stared on as the stranger snatched up my empty vial and spilled his own blood in it. There was a small, curious look of awe on his face as his bodily fluids poured into the small glass tube. The entire time, my fingers were wrapped around another vial that contained more of the precious red liquid inside my satchel. I pulled it out and waved it around slightly. "That wasn't really necessary, but thanks anyways, I guess."

There was something about what he just did that didn't sit well with me. Perhaps I'm just not used to anyone being nice to me, if "nice" is what you can call a perfect stranger slashing his own wrists so I could have a sample of their blood. A fingertip prick would've done just as nicely.

The barmaid set another drink down in front of me, and I popped off the top of the vial in my hand and poured the blood into the drink and took a sip. The bandit that I "borrowed" this sample from was a dirty man, which translated into his blood carrying a bitter taste. I squinted in disgust and set the drink back down on the table. I didn't see myself finishing this round.

I brushed a few errant strands of my raven-black hair back behind my ears as I addressed the stranger next to me. "Is it wrong that I like the taste of blood? I don't know why, but the thick metallic taste calms me down." I shrugged as I reluctantly picked up the vial that sat on the bar. I took a closer look at it, putting it against the light that one of the lanterns cast into the bar. Strange, his blood is a lot darker than what I'm used to seeing.

Still examining the vial, I continued, "Oh well, to each their own, right?"

[Seth_Rahl]

The demon shook his head. "No, its not wrong. But its strange for...a human to like blood. Or at least the taste of it." He set the vial of his own blood next to hers and sat there for a moment, drinking in the silence as he had drank his own water. "I've not known many demons nor vampires, but the general consensis is that they like blood. I do not mean to be racist or anything when I use the term human so lightly...I've just been regarded as a demon more than a human for all these years."

He stopped speaking, noticing that the bartender was staring at him with thin eyes. The man was tall and fat, his formerly muscular arms worn out by age and flab, but even by his eyes Ifrit could tell that the man had been a former warrior. As if in reaction to that thought, the bartender had calmly reached beneath the bar and pulled out a strange weapon, which Ifrit would later identify as some sort of firearm.

"Did ah just hear ya right, lad?" The man asked conversationally, but his hands were absently roaming over the barrel of the weapon to the latch in the back, where he inserted two bullets. "Did ya say you was a demon? Cause here in the Peacful Promenade we don't allow demons, ya hear?" His hands now moved threateningly to the handle.

"And since when did that become a rule?" Ifrit asked quietly, and his own hands moved and grabbed the hilt of E. Beowulf, ready for anything even though he hoped to absolve this peacfully.

"Eva' since one of ya filthy kin tore up mah place the otha' day. " The bartender said, pointing the barrel of the gun at Ifrit's head. "I'm gonna 'ave ta ask ya ta leave."

[BlackAndBlueEyes]

I merely sat there and cocked an eyebrow while the stranger and a male bartender had an exchange of words. That is, until the bartender whipped out a pistol. Shit was going to get real, as they would say. The simple firearm was pointed at the man sitting next to me, the bartender going on about how some demons caused a ruckus here a few days ago.

Under normal circumstances, I would've dismissed the situation entirely and resumed drowning my sorrows away in a flood of alcohol, but I felt strangely obligated to interject. I forced myself to take another sip of my drink, muttering loud enough for the bartender to hear me, "Leave him alone. I don't need your racist bullshit ruining my relatively good mood." The sour taste of the blood I had poured in here only spiked my words even further.

[Seth_Rahl]

The man stood unmoved by the assasin's words, and instead brought out a second firearm from his back pocket, this one slightly smaller than the first. Ifrit widened his eyes. One shot he could block, but two...

Fortunately, the situation was disturbed when the door opened to the peacful promenade, and since the bartender was habituated to see prospective customers he turned his head to the newcomers. This gave Ifrit the instant he needed. Shouldering E. Beowulf in one smooth motion as he leapt over the counter, he flipped over the man's shoulders and grabbed both barrels and, pressing all of his weight down in mid-air, shoved so that the barrels pointed to the floor when the bartender, more out of instinct than reaction to Ifrit's movements, pulled the triggers on both guns. The bullets ricocheted and one glanced by the half demon's cheek, grazing him and leaving a small cut. Before the man could get a chance to lift his guns and point them at his attacker, Ifrit swung one boot-clad foot around and it crashed into the side of the mans head, knocking him into the wall and rendering the bartender immediately unconcious as a glazed look came over his eyes.

Ifrit landed on the table, breathing hard. He cursed himself for not preparing for a second weapon. Even he, a demon of sorts, carried around the curved dagger, just in case. He should have expected the seasoned veteran to have had one as well. Had it not been for the opening of the door, things could have turned out much worse.

"Very good, Ifrit Obsidian." Said a familiar voice from near the doorway, and suddenly the demon realized that all was quiet. He looked around. The entire place had emptied cause of that little scuffle. Except for the assasin. He turned to the voice, and saw a sight he never expected to see: the former captain of the seventh company of the bladewraiths.

[BlackAndBlueEyes]

It's quite amazing how much crap can happen in a matter of seconds. I was distracted by the door opening, the slightly rusted hinges creaking audibly over the noise of the patrons. Then, two gunshots simultaneously echoed through the tavern, snapping my attention back to the stranger and the bartender. My head whipped back in time to see the splotch of blood on my new acquaintance's face caused by a ricocheted bullet before he gracefully twisted in mid-air and delivered one hell of a kick to the bartender's brain pan.

"What the fuck!" I screamed in surprise as that fat ass spun around like a wooden top until he collided with the wall. I quickly rose to my feet, spilling my drink in the process--a big no-no in my book. The stranger would owe me for that, that's for damn sure. His boots clunked heavily on the polished bar as he landed.

I looked around, noticing a commotion by the door as the patrons hurriedly pushed one another in an effort to leave the Peaceful Promenade, like grains of sand trying to force their way through a funnel. The mysterious figures that opened the door in the first place were now inside the tavern, standing at one side as to prevent themselves from being trampled in the rush to find a more peaceful place than the Promenade (how ironic) in which to waste the rest of their night.

My jaw was slightly agape as my mind tried to sort out what the hell just happened. I quickly looked at the figures who seemed to know the stranger, then at the stranger, then at the fallen bartender. The barmaid that served me my drink was cowering in the back room, poking her head through the doorway to make sure that nobody was dead. I then looked back at the figures.

I reiterated, my voice shaking from the suddenness of it all, "What the fuck!"

[Seth_Rahl]

The assassin, Ifrit saw, had been shaken by the swiftness of the encounter, and Ifrit had forgotten that he still had his prenatural speed. However, he was more concerned about the fact that the former company captain was here himself, which most likely meant that there was bad news instead of good news.

"Pareal." Ifrit said coldly. The last time they had met had been on the battle grounds of the Bladewraiths, where Ifrit had somehow managed to take the title of Seventh Company Captain away from him. "Its strange to see you here."

"Indeed. But these are strange times." The man named Pareal spoke. He looked around Ifrit to the tense form of the assassin, and widened his eyes slightly. "Oh ho, who's your companion, Ifrit?"

"No one that you could handle." the devil answered before the assassin could quip something sarcastic or deadly. He was trying to prevent bloodshed. "In anycase, why are you here?"

"It would be easier to discuss this over drinks, wouldn't you agree?" Pareal's smile grew, and he sat down at the bar and beckoned the now terrified waiter girl over. "It'll be on me, since its my fault her drink was spilled in the first place." He gestured towards the assassin.

[BlackAndBlueEyes]

I could feel a thread of tension between the stranger, who by listening I learned that his name was Ifrit, and the man who was now standing in front of us, Pareal. It wouldn't take a genius to point out that the regally dressed Pareal was someone of importance, and that he had deliberately tracked down Ifrit to have a discussion about something.

Under normal circumstances, I would've excused myself from the tavern and looked for a place to lay my head, but before I could object, the newcomer mentioned something about "drinks" and that he would be paying. No matter how much I hate people in general, a free drink is something that I don't turn down.

I took my seat back at the bar, straightening out my dress while doing so. The barmaid slowly made her way to me, still shaken from the gunshots that occurred a minute before.

"W-what'll it be?"

I closed my eyes, devising a way to take advantage of Pareal's generous offer. "How about a flirtini?"

"Coming right up, ma'am."

Before the girl could escape to make my drink, I motioned her back. Quietly, as so the others wouldn't hear, I whispered to her, "Oh, and can you put that drink on his tab as well?" I pointed at the Bloody Mary that was soaking up salt and pretzel crumbs on the bar. "Like he said, it was his fault for spilling that, so it can be his fault for paying for it too."

"Sure thing, ma'am."

[Seth_Rahl]

Ifrit was overly wary when Pareal sat down, and the former captain noticed this immediately. "Ifrit, you can relax." the man said gently, placing one hand on the half breed's shoulder in reassurence. "I haven't come here to try and retake the title from you or anything. I merely carry a message from the Council."

Ifrit blinked. "The Council? What do they want?"

The Council of the Bladewraiths was actually the founding "fathers" of the clan, and were thus the greatest swordsmen (and women) Ifrit had ever met. In person, at least. But whenever they were involved in things, it usually meant trouble.

"As you can guess..." Pareal started, but stopped when the waitress had come over with drinks for the three of them. Pareal's two companions simply stood in the shadows, immobile as ever. Ifrit eyed them warily as well, but Pareal caught his expression and laughed. "Oh don't worry about them. They are new recruits. We found them swordfighting in the Citadel, and were impressed by their skill."

At Ifrit's unspoken question, Pareal spoke again, gesturing towards the two. "They are mute twins, but are incredible with the blade."

Ifrit didn't have to check if they were. Anyone recruited by the Bladewraiths had to be good. "So, what were you going to say?" Ifrit continued for the man. "Oh, and sorry for not introducing you two." He said to the assassin, and realized he didn't even know her name. "This is Pareal, my old mentor and former Captain. That is, until I took that title from him."

[BlackAndBlueEyes]

I paused for a few seconds, debating on whether or not I was going to hang around here long enough to warrant me giving my name, but settled on doing so out of common courtesy. "Madison," I said, giving a small nod.

The barmaid set a drink in front of me, the glass clinking against the polished oak of the bar. I immediately turned to pick it up, closing my eyes and savoring the taste. Whatever business these two guys had with each other was none of my concern. I decided that once I finish my drink, I'm out of here.

[Seth_Rahl]

Ifrit gave the woman a small glance. He sensed her restlessness and eagerness to get out of this tavern, but like so many others could not resist a free drink. Well, it didn't concern him what she did, just as long she kept that choke wire of hers safely put away.

"So what is it?" Ifrit asked his former captain.

"The mriswith have been sighted near Scara Brae."

At the word mriswith Ifrit stiffened noticeably, and his eyes slitted. "What? How did they get on this island? They are supposed to be on the mainland."

"They must have slaughtered a crew. We investigated and found a boat full of bodies slit open by three blades. That's how they kill, remember."

Oh, Ifrit remembered all too well.
"Dammit. But what does that have to do with me?"

[BlackAndBlueEyes]

I slowly poured the drink down my throat. There was a little too much lime juice in it, and not enough vodka; the champagne was a bit flat as well. But hey, it was free, so I don't really have a right to complain. I lightly shook the glass in my hand, causing a small alcoholic whirlpool. Ifrit and Pareal continued their conversation, which I didn't pay any attention to.

I took a few more minutes to finish the glass. Afterwards, I stood up, my velvet dress cascading to the floor. "Thanks for the drinks," I half-heartedly muttered to the strangers as I walked out of the tavern, my heels clicking against the wooden floor as I went.

[Seth_Rahl]

((I don't really know where else to go with this thread. I don't wanna go solo on this, as I know I made a wrong turn interjecting Ifrit's story into this as now its become mostly his story. *winces* So if anybody has any ideas on how to get Pareal away and bring it back to the way its supposed to be, go ahead and post.))

[AdventWings]

Oh, the nostalgia of talking over drinks. Don't you love it when it doesn't end in a barfight?

Story

Continuity - 4

While I understand what motivated Madison to come to the Peaceful Promenade, a bit more from Ifrit would be nice. As the story progressed, this also turned into Ifrit's own story. However, as this became apparent it was left on a hanging note, I have to say it really soured the mood. Playing out the last post solo would be sufficient to bring the thread to a close, especially if you were to call it done.

Setting - 5

You two certainly got the atmosphere down. Playing with the relevants did well to further the story without too many words, although sometimes bare minimum does tend to leave the readers with a dry taste in their mouth.

Pacing - 6

Not bad for a story about two bored people meeting at the bar. It was a little slow at the start and the climax was quick - a bit too quick, perhaps, but got the job done.

Writing Style

Mechanics - 7

Great job for BlackandBlueEyes in keeping with the standard mechanics and playing it off in style. As for Seth_Rahl, please be aware of words that you may not be familiar with their spelling, such as proposterous[ (as opposed to preposterous, for example) as their presence can sometimes disrupt the reader's flow of reading. And don't be afraid to come back and edit posts when you feel necessary.

Technique - 6

Fairly basic, but used to good effect.

Clarity - 4

Partly because Seth left it off as a cliffhanger, albiet one without much direction for the readers to pursue, and partly because of some miscommunication between Seth and BlackAndBlueEyes about the weapon the barkeep brought out. In Seth's post, I clearly noticed he was talking about a double-barrel shotgun (besides, I've never heard of a double-barrel rifle either) but in BlackAndBlueEye's post, it was noted the bartender pulled out a pistol. While Seth remedied the miscommunication by intruducing an actual pistol being brought out, some of the damaged was downplayed for dramatic effects. Sure, the other option was to have both Ifrit and the Barkeep either dead or gravely wounded, but it had to be done. On another note: the insertion of how the two new Bladewraiths were recruited broke the flow of the story - if it was not overly important to the plot (which might have been had it been played out a little longer) don't interject the reference into the story. Make every word count.

Character

Dialogue - 6

Both characters played out the bored strangers part fairly well and took advantage of not knowing each other beforehand. Ifrit came off as a bit naive in the initial introductions while Madison stayed true to her cut-throat personality. Of course, then you two started to mellow down. Not bad, since I've known many a couple who first got together over a drink at the bar. On Althanas, at least. :D

Action - 6

I still don't know why Ifrit would give up his own blood for a "stranger" to drink. Also, while I believe the bartender was played out as a bit too rash with decisions, I'll give you the benefit of doubt about how bartenders are to react when they know a demon's in their bar.

Persona - 7

I find Ifrit's melancholic demeanor a bit of a departure from his usual character, but the disposition was fairly clear why he was in such a mood. So was Madison, although hers might be better remedied with a quick bout in the Citadel. In the words of Madison Freebird (Quoted from post #14, last line from the bottom: "Oh, well. To each their own, right?"

Miscellaneous

Wild Card - 7

There hasn't been enough "talk over drinks" played out well recently. I say this one comes pretty close.

FINAL SCORE – 58!

((Rewards + Spoils))

Seth_Rahl receives 1,400 EXP and 220 GP. He also received the scorn of the Peaceful Promenade's barkeep for kicking him in the face. Yow.

BlackAndBlueEyes receive 1,400 EXP and 220 GP. She also received a vial of Ifrit's blood, although what she would do to it is up to you to decide.

[Witchblade]

EXP and GP added!