The Sword and Staff [All Welcome]

[Eteri]

I nodded and turned to my half empty drink. I wasn't too sure I liked Cider, it was too bubbly in my stomach. "Empty feeling is lonely but for Eteri, this is opposite. Feel very...full, even if only half soul." I turned to him with a toothy grin, but it quickly faded when he said things felt weird and that he was having odd dreams.

I quickly pulled my eyes away, ears drooping. I picked up the cider and finished off the drink, coughing and heaving. Tears stringing my eyes. Gosh...this stuff wasn't really all that smooth. I slammed my hands repeatedly on the bar till a very annoyed looking bartender approached me.

"Yes?"

"More! But no this. Something less bubbles." I pushed the glass over to him. "Two please." He stood there, waiting. Oh... OH! Money, he wanted money. I rummaged through my shoulderbag till I Found a few loose gold coins and set them down. He took them up and with a sigh left.

I turned my attention back to Venn. "Eteri have nightmares. Lots. Hears whispers, tells Eteri do bad things. No like. Eteri get you drink." I forced a laugh. I knew he didn't like it when I was sad, or anyone for that matter. I was afraid he'd leave if he caught on.

The bartender sat two glasses down in front of us. "Vodka. Careful luv' it'll burn." And with those words the bartender left again. I stared at the glass, it looked like water?

"Is joke?" I asked as I picked up the glass and downed it all in one gulp. I dropped it, and it shattered against the floor. Holy flying fishes on fire! I WAS ON FIRE! LITERALY ON FIRE!? RIGHT? RIGHT!?

N..No just my throat.

"G-GAhhh!" I waved my arms at my mouth, as though it'd alleviate the feeling. "No like. No like."

[Ayaka]

Ayaka was yet another who was drawn to the tavern, the only place open in such horrendous weather. She carefully pushed the door open and turned to gently click it closed behind her. She shut the dark red umbrella and shook the excess water off it before discarding it against the wall along with the other dripping jackets and outerwear. Ayaka needn't take off her clothing, she was dry. She was smart enough to bring an umbrella when she saw the ominous clouds. She wore what could have been mistaken as a traditional Akashimian shrine maiden outfit. Long loose fitting red pants and a white shirt that hung off her shoulders, its cuffs and v-neck lined with red ribbon.

Ayaka raised a perfectly trimmed eyebrow as her golden eyes glanced over the crowded establishment. Most were sodden. Ayaka wrinkled her nose. Did they not think to bring umbrellas? They all stink of mud..Especially...

Her disapproving gaze fell onto a familiar blue haired feline at the bar who had just messily shot a glass filled with Thaynes only know what. Alcohol no doubt judging by her overly exaggerated reaction. Eteri had always been that way. Ayaka sighed heavily as she passed Eteri and the blue clothed boy next to her. She didn't want to deal with the two lovers at this point in time. Hell, she didn't want to deal with Eteri at the best of times.

Ayaka sat herself neatly on a barstool on the other end of the bar and held up a neatly manicured finger to get the barkeeps attention. "Yes, I would like one Scotch on the rocks." She pulled out a small pouch of coins. "There is a heavy tip for you, if you ensure my glass does not empty." She gave the man a coy grin, leaning against the counter. Honey-blonde tail flicking casually side to side behind her. "Deal?"

"Deal." The man nodded, "You should teach the other 'jin some manners." He added.

Ayaka glanced over at her sister. It was odd, within her dwelled a horrendously monstrous and violent energy, some sort of soul? What on earth would have such a thing, furthermore, why did Eteri have it? Why did she and the man in the blue tailcoat share half a soul? Lovers? That had to be it. No one would be stupid enough to have half their soul ripped out otherwise.

A glass was placed in front of Ayaka, she lifted it toward the barkeep. "To a torrential rain that fattens your pockets on this dreary night." She took a sip and enjoyed the burn as it fell down her throat to settle in her stomach. This would have been perfect. If not for the blue haired elephant in the room.

Sure there were other standouts, some old man flirting with a half naked faun, a couple of parasitic plant creatures, a group of people around a crying girl by the fire... but as usual Ayaka did not want to bother them, if she left them alone surely they'd have the decency to leave her alone.

Ayaka pulled a book out from the folds of her pants, and set it on the bench. Taking another sip of her scotch she began to quietly read.

[Storm Veritas]

"Perhaps those folks would be much more well-served under your watch. Most folks don't qualify as the soft glove AND the iron fist, after all." His eyes scanned around to the patrons Philomel pointed out, before returning to her voice. He leaned a bit closer, struggling to gather her words over the buzz of the room.

How precisely does a gentleman answer in regards to a just finished pay-per-screw? Doubt she wants to hear the fine details, or would appreciate a good joke about the sausage down the hallway or the echo chamber...

His eyes were sharply focused as he moved them about the bustling pub, sipping quickly at his sweet, cool drink as he planned the next chess move. Conversation could be a dance, and Philomel knew how to waltz like a queen.

"Every exchange is a joy, even with the flaws we all share." A self deprecating smile as he dragged his hands through the air before his torso, gesturing to his own human frailty. "My company could not be criticized. Fun, lighthearted, and ultimately professional - down to the polite and prompt exit that men like me pay for."

It was on the point, but the wizard estimated Philomel too wise to attempt to dupe. Human duplicity surrounding sex was fairly unique to them; perhaps other beings could appreciate a matter-of-fact perspective. The tougher question now was where to go from here. What did Veritas wish to draw from the faun? They had greeted, he had learned, and here in his refractory period he had the ability to retrain from more primitive desires that would likely lead to outright bedlam. What more was there for him here?

Perhaps inspiration can be borrowed.

"So what now? You're not one of them. You're obviously a warrior, but don't strike me as a mercenary type. What keeps you going? Do you let the winds carry you, or is there a specific change you're trying to impress upon Althanas?"

[Lye]

What? So you kill a farmer's pig and try to cook it on his firewood bundle after tapping a keg of unfinished ale. People around here act like that's some kind of crime. As I milled over the reason for my drunken trudge, my left boot decided to pick a fight with my right boot. The sensation of falling didn't kick in until the view of the mud and the muck became suddenly detailed and personal. I shot out a hand and snatched some wooden railing that may have been constructed some hundred years ago. It shattered like cracked glass and I barely managed to catch myself on the remnants of the support post as my nose dipped into what I hoped was only mud. I didn't care, but the aroma of my unfiltered alcohol ridden breath masked any notes of horse shit that was most likely present.

I staggered to a stand and used the tattered sleeve of my hooded poncho to wipe the crap off my nose. Then, it started to rain. It had threatened to do so all day, but now seemed to be the time. I sighed a cloud of warm breath in the brisk night shook the inebriation around in my skull into a further froth. A glance back to the pillar of black smoke proved that my worn out welcome from earlier was still ablaze. Maybe the guy would catch a break. Didn't kill him, so he's already two for one on the luck scale for today. Me, on the other hand.

I settled my sights on the only glowing establishment in this bleak hellhole of a place. Given the arid location and miserable state of the surrounding village, the sounds of life booming from it forced my brow to arch. I then tilted my head skyward like a bird brained turkey to take several drops of rain straight to the eye socket. The fucked up eye didn't feel much, but the good one stung quite a bit. In my impaired judgement, I just said fuck it and sauntered my way into the tavern.

Damp, muddy, and visually in need of a bath some several days ago, I balanced myself between the archway after nearly kicking the worn cedar off its rusty iron hinges. It settled some of the patrons for a moment as my good eye took account of the blurred faces.

"You," I pointed, but the hand struggled to pin down my target in the spinning room. "The fuck you doin' here?"

[Ayaka]

Ayaka glanced up at the silver haired man who was drunkedly pointing a finger at her. She sighed and picked up her glass (just after it was topped up again) and shut her book. Leaving it at the counter to mark her place, lest some uncultured swine take her seat. With a swing of her hips and a walk filled with the gait of someone who had a superiority complex Ayaka approached the man.

Now that she was standing a mere foot away from him she could smell him. Her nose wrinkled and her ears twitched. "You stink of a drunkard. What kind of pathetic hovel did you claw your way out of, and why aim your ire at me? I have no fucking idea who you are." She paused to take a sip of her drink. "Nor you me." Another sip. "So kindly.... She reached out and batted his accusatory finger away. "Fuck off."

His hand rose again. "D-do you KNOW who I a-am!?"

Great. It was one of those people. Someone who thought he better than everyone else. Ayaka huffed, he was covered in mud and muck, and who knows what else. If she focused, he had the faint smell of blood upon him, and his soul. Hoo boy. This man done some shady ass shit. It was a miasma of dark chaos, not as much as the redhead in the corner, but still, pretty bad in regards to being a basic human being. He was probably some washed out assassin, or cult leader. Ayaka didn't answer him, she just stared him down, taking another drink from her glass. Silently, she reached out and gave him a small push to test just how well his balance faired.

Tonight was going to be a long one.

[Lye]

Again with that sensation of falling. This time backwards. I meant to scowl in anger but by the time my face formed the expression, I came to notice how littered with cobwebs the banisters were. Does anyone clean that shit? As though an afterthought, my legs, feet, and arms spun me round, swiveled, and put me again, face to face with... Isabelle? Those ears, the tail, that look of "what the hell did you do now?"... But... I thought...?

My furrowed frustrations rose into concentrated confusion. I narrowed my view as if it were to help, but it just made the world blur that much more.

"You," I went to push a finger between the valley of her chest. "I thought you were dead?"

My face softened as either the beer from earlier rose in my stomach, or I felt something other than anger. Either way, my arms outstretched and I fell forward for an embrace.

"I haven't seen you in --"

[Ayaka]

"Dead"

Dead? Ayaka wasn't dead, she was very much alive. He must have mistaken her for someone else but whoever she was, she was long gone. It was almost sweet, if not utterly pathetic. "Maybe if you washed yourself up, and weren't some pathetic street skulking washed up assassin wannabe. I'd entertain that thought. But your soul, and your body is littered with literal filth."

Ayaka held out her hand, and his forehead clunked against her glass. His hands still found their grubby way to her waist and he gave her a tight squeeze, before trying to draw her in for an embrace. He muttered the word 'Isabelle.'

"Ayaka." She said firmly, standing her ground. "A-YA-KA."

[Briarheart]

Oh goodness, Hype thought to herself. This... This is a different kind of hug. Not a good hug. A bad hug. The kind of hug that one gives as a silent cry for help.

The briarbane's general eyebrow area scrunched up behind her mask as she processed this information. Rayleigh buried her face into her shoulder, her arms wrapped tightly and fingers digging into her vines. It was a strong hug, to be sure; one fueled by a slew of repressed emotions and trauma?

Who did this to her? Who hurt her so badly that she'd release so much raw emotion in a simple comforting embrace?

Hyperion would find out, and she would give them a very stern talking to.

"There, there," she cooed into Miss Aston's ear as she began rocking back and forth ever-so-slightly. Her Best Friend instincts were kicking into overdrive. "It's going to be okay. You must have a lot on your mind right now. Would you like to talk about it?"

- - - - - - -

Oh hey, free beer.

I've never been one to turn down a round on someone else's coin, but it felt even better when someone else did. Didn't hurt that this place's brew wasn't half bad, either. I'd never really known Red to be much of a drinker, but her loss, really.

However, I had to admit that she was starting to really kill my enjoyment of the evening. For someone who claimed to have no emotions, she had such strong feelings on the matter. And she had started to go on quite the tear about Cain--which was really none of my business to begin with. One of the many things Ulroke must've forgotten to teach her was the art of people watching. Spot someone, make one snide comment about them, and move onto the next. That nerdy little scholar wasn't worth the time she spent having no emotions whatsoever about him, no matter what complaints she had against him.

I had to distract her, and had to distract her now. Otherwise, I'd have to frown and nod at another one of her rants.

Reaching into my robes, I produced a small cardboard box and set it on the table. Thumbing the top, I popped it open and slid out a deck of playing cards.

"Care for a game? Poker?"

[Amari]

Madison pulled out a deck of cards. "Poker?" Scarlet tapped the table in thought, thankfully it was the one cardgame she knew how to play. Thanks to Jake. "Sure. Deal me in."

Madison started to shuffle the cards before a rather loud man interrupted.

"Ulroke?" Scarlet tilted her head. That explained the pang in her chest. Whenever he was around, at least when he was carrying the one 'good piece' of her soul her chest ached. He was completely and utterly wasted. She had never seen him like this before, and was slightly curious as to why he'd put himself in such a futile state. "This is why most of the hand no longer see him as a fit leader." Scarlet stated as she stood from the booth. "One moment, I need to deal with the child."

Scarlet scooched away from the booth and grabbed the back of his collar. Stopping him from sexually assaulting a very unhappy catlady. Lichensith Ulroke. A man who was once feared by all, now a crumbling mess. "You'll get yourself killed. She isn't Isabelle." Scarlet muttered, crossing her arms over her chest and giving his boot a kick. "I feel you're still carrying around that little piece of soul I gave you too. How's that treating you?" She asked.

He replied with a groan. "No, no its her look. Ears and tail and-

"C'mon." Scarlet hefted him up from his stumble and guided him toward the booth so he'd sit with herself and Madison. As he leaned on her for support Scarlet felt the slightest tinge of concern for him. 'Why have you done this to yourself.... do you not care?' The thought was brief, and not enough to rattle her usually stoic demanour. She slumped him into her former seat in the booth, opposite Madison.

"Not just playing cards, but babysitter too." Scarlet said as she slid in next to Madison. "Deal him in too."

[Briarheart]

If you had to pinpoint any particular moment where the night went from bad to worse, this had to be it.

As I was leafing through the deck, Red went and pulled the worst possible person from the crowd to join us.

He reeked of death and looked far worse. The (former?) master of the Crimson Hands. The silver assassin, the man who damned a country to be infected by one of my plagues for all time. The (co-)slayer of Kyla Orlouge, whose murder sent Sei Orlouge into hiding. And here he now stood, covered in filth, skin pallid and hair matted, eyes glossed over and drunk confusion etched on his face.

His presence didn't inspire fear or anger, as it may have once done. Instead, it only made me feel pity. How the mighty have fallen.

I shot a venomous look at Red as I riffle shuffled the deck. "Just make sure he doesn't throw up on the cards."