Ravens Head Tavern

The Raven's Head Tavern

The Raven's Head Tavern is a reletively unassuming place along the boardwalk by Latent's docks. It doesn't exactly stand out all that much from the other buildings other than the place is painted a very dark color, and has simple lighting on the outside near the hanging sign out front. Many a person drops by here, even some of the more shady types. The bartender is said to carry one hell of a nasty shotgun, though, so trouble generally stays to a minimum. In honor of the Heaven or Hell Tournament, the proprietors of the tavern have instituted a policy that combatants drink for free.

General - A nice place to get a drink away from the hustle and bustle of the Crimson Hawk.

Weapons - The general stuff you'd find in a bar. But riff

raff will likely get you shot after a stern warning.

Natural Element Resource - None

Bonus Effects - Drinks for combatants are free!

Shouyin was not a regular customer. He used to have the odd back-end diner or Chinese take-out joint that he'd go by regularly, but now he couldn't even do that. There had never been a point in considering a café or coffee shop of even mediocre quality - not since folks started putting cameras in their cellphones and the lines between personal privacy and private property became disgustingly blurred. Shouyin was not a regular customer, and he hadn't been a regular customer for a while. And, for a while, with the tournament hype in full swing, that had been okay. But now Shouyin was getting hungrier waiting 'til he found the next mid-range hotel to check into and order room service every day. Now, Shouyin was getting edgy at the sight of any photo lens and the incessant 'hesitant but far too cordial' taps on the shoulder and the uncontrolled blurts of, "Hey! aren't you? ..." around every corner. Now Shouyin was feeling like a twenty-eight year old who just wanted to eat a sandwich alone.

Shouyin was not a regular customer, and now he was tired.

The half-golem winced as he placed a stone palm against the wooden door of the tavern, listening to the all too familiar knock of that miniature battering ram off the establishment's ramparts even as he pressed gently and stepped inside. He knew that regardless of how unassuming a place might look, there would always be bothers, and even as those swirls of green and golden yellow eyes surveyed the room he saw darting stares which 'accidentally' met his gaze and shot away, heard the mutters too low to decipher but too obvious in tone to misread, and felt his shoulders tighten with anxiety. Man had not been made from the dust of this earth, Shouyin knew it even through the rubber soles of his brown leather wingtips against the floorboards. There was no need to dig his toes into the dirt, to feel the cool and firm response of the stone against his heels and the balls of his feet to know that men had not risen up out of that everlasting and ever-giving element. As he walked up to the bar he immersed himself in the history of the room, ancient grains of earth squeaking brightly at him from in between the rafters, telling individual stories of the tree roots they'd grown up around, of the midnight storms that'd drenched them in water and the rabbits that'd dug fiercely past their molecular cousins. What man had built was still more a product of the forest's placental dust than man had ever been - and it should have been obvious to more than just the avatar of the earth itself.

A genuine being born out of the dirt sat himself in front of the bar, surrounded by fish out of water.

Heaven or Hell, let's rock baby...

"Huh?" the half-golem drew his shoulders back, straightening up as he came out of his reverie and looked at the woman speaking to him. There was a slight tension in his movements as he surveyed the guest - she was a bit too reputable for her surroundings: too much white in a dark place.

"Yeah... Shouyin," his tone was polite if not a little lacklustre, but that was hardly outside the norm for a man sitting alone at a bar. His left hand came up and scratched at the appropriate temple idly, fingers shifting every so often to adjust disorganized tufts of silvery grey hair nearby. "May I ask who's calling?"

"An organization, eh? ... Excuse m--" Shouyin didn't have time to pardon his own interruption as a flash of movement caught the corner of his right eye and he spun about clockwise to meet it. In time with the swivel in his seat his left hand would turn about slightly, the index finger hovering upwards to indicate a moment's patience on Lumina's part.

"Yeah! umm, one of those things - number four, right - and a big chocolate milk - yeah, perfect," the half-golem turned back about with a satisfied expression and eased his posture a little, bringing his right hand forwards to take Lumina's and shake it gently - or rather, as gently as one can shake something within a solid rock gauntlet (he'd gotten pretty good at that sort of thing over the years though, so one needn't worry).

"Sorry about that - I'm starving. Ye', it's a pleasure to meet you too," he did his best to let her remarks fly past his shoulder; not only did he definitely not need any more attention after just getting into Latent, he wasn't really one for complements. Shou was basically a modest guy, especially now - any boastful or extravagant actions that came from him were either for his own sheer pleasure or just part of the game that was Heaven or Hell. 'Cause you could hardly win so many times as he had without really playing. He thought about his order... he was pretty sure the picture on the menu had shown an alright sandwich.

"Hah, it's fine, don't worry about it," he smiled and flicked a piece of fluff off the knee of his pants. It was nice to bump unexpectedly into someone polite for a change. Usually a random encounter wound up boiling down to some big words and then a scrap and a piece of somebody's tooth stuck in his right hand. Folks all wanting to prove themselves and whatnot.

"Oh s**t... yeah I'm usually on my own. I actually don't know how I'm gonna find those guys," Shou frowned and glanced at the ceiling. "Are accommodations still at that... Red Eagle place? Is that right? It's been a while."

"Seriously? Like you guys doing Eliminations there again or something? Jesus it was almost too much watching that tape of Sun fightin' Reiko or... whatever his name is, there's a dude looks just like him anyways," there was a genuine smile on Shou's face now. It didn't really matter if she was just talking to him because of whatever little bit of fame he might have, at least she was tactful about it. He was sick of one-sided conversations with his 'biggest fans' and 'meta-combat enthusiasts' - even without the "meta-" one still felt less than human talking with those sorts.

"Naw naw, it's fine. Honestly I've just been travelling a lot not really knowing what to do, and then Silver gave me a call and there was just like, the perfect twinge of nostalgia," he smirked at some inside joke he had with himself then looked back at Lumina. "Just this feeling, as though I was really close to the end of things...

"And this was a chance to prove I wasn't."

"Mm... speaking of food," Shouyin looked towards the bartender, who was just in the process of bringing over the half-golem's meal: the aforementioned chocolate milk (for strong bones) and some kind of smoked salmon fillet on two thick pieces of sourdough with all sorts of fixings. "I'm not so much for the more 'interesting' local dishes, but I am just fine with this."

He smiled pleasantly as he hooked the tops of his feet underneath the ring of metal that ran about near the bottom of the barstool and took a sip of his milk. "Y'actually like this place tho', eh? The weather always felt sorta discomfiting 'round here; that sea breeze, the smell of Leviathan just hanging over everything. Salt, brine, eugh..." There were some fries on the side of his plate that sprinkled some vinegar on and began to eat nonchalantly.

"Fair 'nough. I can't say there's much that'd warm me up to this place regardless," he shrugged and picked up another fry, stopping his hand midway between the plate and his mouth. "Sorry, do you mind if I eat? This is the first thing I've had all day I think, been on the road all morning," the half-golem would wait for his reply, green and golden yellow swaths of colour swimming their way about his sclera.

"So... what's your organization all about? I mean, I can see energy drinks and video games retailers doing pretty good with a fighting tournament, but that doesn't seem like what -you- would deal in."

"Not at all, don't let me stop you."

She took another sip, before putting the glass down on a coaster.

"Well, we're not doing too much on the surface. Our only goal is to improve life for all of Gaia through magical and technological means, and create a world where everyone can live in peace, harmony, and co-existence." It was admittedly a practiced answer, but it was definitely a true one.

"Everyone should at least have the chance to advance themselves. The tournament is proof that humans and metahumans can face each other on standard terms, but it's more the exception these days. There are stories about of humans being thrown around, put in the middle of things. Certainly, not everyone will want to advance... and that's perfectly fine. We simply offer the option.

"But more than that, we spread the idea of tolerance and understanding. "

"Well, it's like I said. The Foundation is interested in magical and technological fields of advancement, as far as it deals with the medical advancement. It's a mission statement not widely known, since The Foundation has become known mainly for this tournament. Which, like you said, is about beating the other person up. It's contradictory, if one doesn't know the Foundation's aim."

"Consider that in HoH, the best of the best of any race or species come to fight, proving their power, skill, intelligence, and everything else. The next year, either the champions have to prove themselves still the best, else they'll be ousted by someone else even better, even more advanced in their mind, body, and ability."

Lumina's right hand reached for the half-full glass of water. Gripping it lightly, she felt the lower portion's condensation underneath her fingers and against her palm.

"The evolution of a fighter, of a man or a woman."

Yasuo entered into this random tavern, having left Canaan with going to the room for his own rest. The shinobi actually needed to repress some stuff for the night, so he headed over to the closest bar or tavern in the area to get another bottle of Shochu. He was in dire need of his alcoholic beverage at the moment, and was lucky enough to have the kind where it DIDN'T give you a hangover.

Prior to entering, he noticed the word "Raven" on a sign outside. Pretty. But as soon as he got a bottle of his precious japanese alcohol, he popped the bottle, poured it into the glass and began to drink his night away again.

He glanced around, seeing very few figures around. The shinobi eyes a nice looking girl, hanging around with one of those famous Glacier fighters. Shouyin was his name? Yasuo believed so, but was too focused on the drink to care. He also noticed a pair of bodyguards by the woman, meaning she held some sort of importance within this place.

"Oh Shochu, my friend, you make me feel all better..." He was on the road to certainly becoming an alcoholic. Certainly some piano music would fit the atmosphere of the rural, fancy looking tavern here.

"Huh?"

The music caught the shinobi off guard. It was so smooth, and yet so snazzy at the same time. Back where he came from, it was nothing but guitar, drum, monk, ring and repeat. It sounded so oriental normally that Yasuo had grown used to the sound of the music. This jazzy replacement was something that definitely seemed to capture the shinobi's interest. It's as if his thoughts had been heard by some outer force, and had made such a thing possible as he drank.

Yasuo, curious as he ever way, glanced upon the woman playing the piano. She was a good looking woman, well built and overall had a beauty to her face he had yet to see in the area around the tourny grounds. It was nice to see relaxing faces such as that. He continued to listen to her play, yelling out "More! More!" Like an average drunk.

"Aww..."

Well, fifteen seconds of the music was still fifteen seconds of mind reading from somewhere or another. It was ok, the shinobi was already over it, swigging back the rest of his alcohol in one fell swoop. He didn't take his eyes off of this wondrous creature he could so gracefully call a female, and her attitude seemed all the more interesting to him. It was true that he was attracted to these types the most, with the false ignorace and the leading, or so he had assumed every time. He'd been met with a swift kick to the groin or slap in the face more than enough to not care anymore, but he was still always lead into it in the end.

As soon as he saw her glance upon him, and then order a Dry Martini, he guffawed on himself. "Jeeze, she's a drinker too. Awesome." And that bit of information was enough to send the slightly tipped up ninja into saying something quite potentially stupid.

"There's an open seat over here, miss. If you're looking for one that is..."

There was nothing like drinking company when it came to taverns and bars. More often than not, a good story or two came out of them in the least bit.

"Yasuo..."

The shinobi wasted no time in relaying the information to the young woman. And after having learned her name, he couldn't help but think of a corny line to say.

"Fayble. Not such a common name, though beautiful I must say."

He was usually never this poetic, but he wanted to at least TRY and break the ice, whether it be capturing her "I love poet" side, is she had one, or at least making her life by making himself look like a fool. Either of those normally got you into the ballpark of "Friend" anyway. After swigging a little more of his drink and admiring the womans beautiful features, from eyes to lips, He then followed up with,

"Are you a competitor this year?"

Awkward line after a poets verse, but it'd have to do in his drunken stupor.

A tab on free drinks? This was new, but fun!

"A member of Team Shattered Steel, pleasure to meet you."

His bottle was big, and there was plenty to go around if she chose to swig away the japanese vodka. For now though, he continued on with his slightly sweet, heavy doses of alcohol. He did not cease his viewing, bot one bit. Hell, he even went so far as to pleasantly smile at her, and give a quick, subtle wink as well. She had quite the interesting personality, she did, hardcore and badass. Yup, she was [i]exactly the kind of girl he liked to chase after.

"I'm sure you plan on kicking some a**, yes?"

Who didn't wanna kick some a** in a tournament like this? If they didn't, they were crazy! Or drunk... yeah, drunk.

+++The ragged form of a man would sit upon the steps entering the place. It had been a few years since he had been upon the stones of the town. His bronze colored eyes studied everything as he brought the lho-stick up to his lips. The very place brought back memories and nostalgia to the Khornate warrior. A small smile was upon his lips as he sighed. Today was a good day for him. He was himself for a small amount of time. Though, his mind was wandering.

+++He'd slowly exhale the blue tinted smoke as his eyes would close. Why was he here again? What was the point of him coming back? He was a washed up fighter and that was that. He'd chuckle as he'd finally throw the butt end of the lho-stick out into the street and stand up. His backpack being picked up and swung upon his shoulder as he turned to enter the place.

+++By the time he entered the drug was finally working its way into his system and allowing him to retain more of his former self. He was dressed pretty clean today. A black wife-beater would cling to his physique and showed off parts of the tattoos that were inked into his flesh. His hair was buzzed down short. His pants? Simple jeans and upon his feet were simple boots. s**t kicker style, but still boots none the less.

+++He'd eventually look about the place and notice the previous champion Shouyin, but as a fellow champion of this tournament he wasn't as star struck as he would've been previously. He'd chuckle slightly before moving towards a table and setting his backpack down. A worn, bloodstained, piece of equipment. On top his infamous weapon the chainaxe. The chainaxe pristine in its condition and recently cleaned and polished. The backpack, however, had definitely seen better days, but to the cyberpunk it didn't matter as he'd sit down in the chair and relax.

+++Dzan's eyes would glance upwards towards the words that forced their way into his thoughts. A soft chuckle escaped his lips, a chuckle that actually held some emotion, as he saw who had disturbed his relaxation/ Though, the woman before him was welcomed all the same. She could hold her own in a fight and had put up with his fraggin' a** before.

+++"Same slith jus' a diff'rent day, ya know?" He'd say. He was using his Underhive speech, but he knew the bounty hunter would be able to understand him just fine. Though, as he began to use it he'd realize it'd make him stand out all the more in such a confine. Not only was he a past champion, but speaking in an almost indecipherable speech was something else that brought onlookers about. At least he was far away from that damn hotel and didn't have to have reporters asking why he hadn't entered.

+++"What about yourself, bounty hunter?" He'd say as he'd switch over to Low Gothic. Though, as he spoke his eyes would focus on the menu of food. That sounded pretty good right now, but he dragged his eyes back to Ryke.

+++Dzan would merely nod as he watched the bounty dyke. He always wondered if that slith was true or not, but regardless he kept his ears tuned into what she said. The friendly banter. He had tried to kill her the last time they had met, but instead he had gutted the grod out of her partner only for that same partner to meta it out and survive.

+++"Too old? No such thing in Khorne's army," he'd state. Of course he openly used his God's name. He was glad he was even able to converse coherently today. He was as sane as he'd ever be or would be in a long time. "Nah, I jus' got a ride off-planet finally and it's the only ride for a long gakkin' time." He'd say finally. He hadn't told many people that he was leaving. "Time ta go back to Sarlona and the old hive. See what's changed. I may come back, but I may not. Who knows what happens when one travels through the Warp, ya know?"

+++With that he'd hold up his finger and walk up towards the bar. He'd then point to a random picture and nod his head before saying some other slith. All being unheard from the table where he'd come from. Eventually, he'd dig into his back pocket and exchange money before coming back with two mugs full of alcohol. Beer of some sort. Some local variety before placing it on the table. "Don' ya get used ta tha' niceness, dyke." He'd say slipping into the Underhive just to add a point. He'd eventually sit down and wait on the food he had also ordered.

Boredom begets more boredom and Edward wasn't the sort to just stand around and continue to be bored. It just wasn't the cyberpunk's style. And that's what brought him to possibly the only other bar in the town of Latent, at least the only other bar Edward knew about. It was simple. Boredom plus alcohol equals a fun time and probably a headache later. The cyborg was the type to sacrifice for the greater good. Like I said, s**t was simple.

The cyberpunk walked into the tavern with a huge grin on his face, hands upon his hips triumphantly as he looked around the room through the spectacles of his trademark, over-sized horn-rimmed glasses. His eyes went wide with over-exaggerated surprise when his vision settled on his friend and the redhead chick that fought in last year's tournament.

OH MAH GAWD! IT'S DZAN ********' STREEA!

"Well, if it isn't Streea!" Edward said aloud, so loud in fact that it likely alerted everyone in the vicinity of his presence if they hadn't seen him already. The cyborg moved closer and then some, sliding his glasses down the bridge of his nose with his right hand, allowing his green eyes to peer over the stylish sons of bitches as he got closer. "Small world, ain't it?"

"ONE SEA BREEZE COKTAIL, PLEASE!" He called over to the bar before taking a seat at Dzan's table. And if the table only had two seats? Well, he'd simply take one from another table in the same manner one would expect from the person who owned the place and could do whatever he wanted with the chairs.

"How's it going?"

+++One long drink would be taken. He was going to stay as intoxicated as possible to keep this clarity of moment about. Though, an audible sigh would be heard as Edward came into the place. A former The Front of Armament member. He'd nod his head before shaking it as he looked at Ryke. He'd shrug at the last comment.

+++"Less an' less now-a-days. Fallen into Khorne's embrace. Only blood and skulls." He had fallen deep, but he was a brutal person period. It came from the breeding of the Underhives. "Same old, Edward."

+++Though, he'd respond to Ed he'd continued his conversation with the bounty hunter. "Yea, back to that other Throne-damned planet. Sarlona ain't much better than here, but I need it before I fully fall into the embrace, ya know? I'm sure everyone I knew be dead or arrested, but it's something. Where I started. I'll come back to this meta-filled planet, but how long? Who knows. It could be years." He'd state to Ryke. "And who knows if I'll even have sane moments."

+++Finally, Dzan's food would arrive. A nice long philly cheese steak. Dripping with the grease and cheese. Oh how he looked at it and his mouth starting watering, but before Ryke would have a chance to begin anew he'd look at Ed and would nod slowly. "Yea. Within years end I be gone. Who knows. Depends on iffin' I got slith ta do when I get to Hive Dynol and iffin' someone is aiming for my head still. That and how favorable the currents in the Sea of Souls are." Though, all this stuff would be hardly understandable.

+++"Most likely years before I make an appearance once again. Watch me randomly come back to HoH with a team of hive scum to win once again. Bloody Pandas Redux." He'd laugh after that comment.

((Got pulled away for dinner prep. Gonna excuse myself from the convo. since dinner will be dinner in a few lol))

After letting Dzan finish speaking, she hadn't a whole lot to offer up in response, and just nodded to the newcomer, a friend of the punk's obviously and someone she'd never really met. Faces were all the same, some just happened to be more memorable then others.

The bounty hunter was content to let the two men chat, just relaxing for a while until a buzzing at her side alerted her to the noisy cell in her cargo pants' pocket.

She muttered some words that might have sounded like 'scuse me a sec, and pushed her chair away from the table in order to stand up. The little screen displayed a message indicating that her presence was requested back at the Hotel. It was time to split she supposed.

Turning back to the guys, she made a small wave, salute sort of thing. "Sorry boys. Gotta head back. Dzan - if I don't see you sometime before you take off - 'was nice knowin' ya. Good luck yeah?"

She nodded again to the other guy and turned tail.

"Be careful, then."

A guys gotta do what a guys gotta do. Edward understood that sort of thing. Sometimes you just had to go back to where it all started, and it all started in the Underhives of some God-forsaken planet for Dzan. The nerdy looking cyberpunk nodded, propped his glasses on top of his head and took another sip of his cocktail. He'd probably do the same some day too, though Edward didn't doubt that it would be a hell of a lot more boring.

He gave Ryke a nod as she left the tavern before he turned back to find Dzan looking and asking him a question. A question he didn't think Dzan would like the answer too. ******** it. Edward wouldn't be scared. Not any more. He'd know Dzan long enough for that. "Team Cannon fodder," The cyborg started, "The captain is a Meta, but he's my friend regardless. I'm not entirely sure who else is on the team. I didn't really ask too many questions, but I heard that one of them is an old, black dude. Kinda cool, I'd say."

"Too many around. Might as well tolerate it, especially if you're gonna live on Gaia Primus. It's only logical, I guess." Edward shrugged his shoulders. It didn't really matter to him anymore. The cyborg had gotten used to the idea of vampires, werewolves, fairies, genetic experiments, and all sorts of crazy crap living around them. He didn't trust any of them, for the most part, but he definitely wasn't joining any Meta-hating KKK-esque group any time soon.

"Yeah, I think that's his name. Sieg." Edward sipped his drink, thinking back to all the stuff Kenji had told him about the man. It was cool though. He and Kenji weren't on speaking terms any more, they weren't even friends any longer. So, Edward didn't feel so bad about teaming with the martial artist.

"Kenji also made a team, I hear."

"The President of Gay Rights is doing his own thing. I think he entered with a few of his WMD, drug-dealing buddies." His own thing just happened to include shooting Edward in the back with a gun; it would've been a lie to say that he wasn't still bitter over it, but things were generally looking for him these days.

"It's a shame it died. Though, I could totally live without the junkyard and the smell of trash and decomposing bodies." The cyberpunk chuckled a bit, thinking back to the time he spent at the Yard. All of the beer, the naps on his lawn chair, beating the st out of that Bishop. Good st. Then came the subject of Kong and Edward visibly grimaced. Ed had seen him at Yggdrasil. The ex-member and one time leader of the TFOA had fought against Roen and hadn't looked like his usual self.

"Last time I saw him he was one of the undead. You had to put him out, didn't you?" He sipped his cocktail as awaited an answer.

"Not sure what to say about that, Dzan." The cyborg whispered, face going slightly pale and his lips curving into a frown. Taking up his glass, Edward gulped down half of the glasses contents in a single go, placing the glass back down on the surface of the table with a sigh.

"Yeah, I guess he died exactly the way he wanted to." He nodded with a smile, reaching over and taking one of Dzan's offered Lho-sticks. The cyberpunk took his zippo and lit his Lho as fast as Dzan lit his. Edward exhaled deeply, blowing the blue smoke into the air, feeling the addictive narcotic take hold of his body. He had always been known as a lightweight and he usually didn't partake in narcotics. But every once and a while he'd let go and take a puff or two. He'd keep the Lho-stick in his mouth and regard Dzan once more. "Are you looking to die similarly? Is that why you're leaving the planet?"

Edward smoked and drank. Smoked and drank. The Lho traveled through his bloodstream creating a slight benumbed feeling throughout the majority of his body, and the Vodka in his cocktail gave him a slight buzz as well. The cyberpunk felt at ease for the first time in quite a while, despite the melancholy evident in the conversation. He sympathized for Dzan, though was glad that the man still held onto his sense of being, and refused to be a completely mindless follower of Khorne. God Emperor knew how one-sided most of Khorne's followers were.

He took a drag from his Lho-stick, expelling the blue smoke through his nostrils into a great big cloud which obscured his facial features. The palpable looking smoke slightly covering their small corner of the tavern. Edward shrugged his shoulders, "It's not the sort of life I'd want for myself, but you do with what you've got. Can't change a thing now, bro. There's only one way out of your sort of life, and you witnessed that in Kong's end. But at least you get the choose the terms under which you'll die.

"Either that, or you can definitely change some stuff." Edward chuckled before adding, "Maybe you can be a born again Christian."

"It's definitely not what I want, but I can see what you mean. Everyone wants to feel validated somehow. Some more than others. But you're pretty memorable in these parts, already. You've made plenty of money and you've got more renown than I could ever hope for. Sans the whole Khorne thing, I'd be rather comfortable in your position with nothing much left to prove."

The cyberpunk drank the rest of his cocktail, placing the empty glass on the table. On the other hand, the Lho stick was still burning and he was still expelling plumes of blue smoke from his mouth and nostrils.

"But you want more and more. I can get that and I respect it. Do what you do, Dzan."

((I'm out to do that Thanksgiving stuff. We can continue later, E.))

Sieg decided that it would be good to get some fresh air and take a stroll around the town of latent. Eventually the old warrior came across the board walk which looked out into the sea. The sun set beneath the watery horizon, making a beautiful picture that Sieg was unused to seeing since he didn't live near the watery. Sieg stood on the boardwalk and would take a big slow breath, taking in the salty air into his powerful body. His dreads would flutter in the wind and a smile would come to his face. Sieg thought about how soon the heaven or hell would come back around and he was excited.

On the way there Sieg had learned of a tavern in which fighters drank for free. Sieg decided that he would give it a try and after taking in the scenery he would turn on his heel and walk towards the shady but fitting looking building. Siegs trained hands would open the door to the Raven's head tavern and as soon as he touched it he sensed something was wrong.

He opened the door and he was hit with a familiar smoky scent and passing him to leave was a man whom Sieg had seen around a few times before. The smell of the Lho stick was unmistakable and it was the calling card of Dzan, a fighter whom Sieg was not too fond of. Sieg thought it best to simply continue in and say nothing, he didn't want to ruin his good mood by acknowledging the pagans presence.

Well ain't that something? It seemed like Valentine had just barely beaten the crowd. Many people had started to flood into the tavern, a few familiar, some not so much. There was one guy that he'd seen at the bar that was calling Ryke over to him before. Dzan had made an appearance too. Now, aside from the man being an HoH champion, he was sure he'd met him somewhere else before but right now where escaped him. Just as it seemed the people were down flowing in, the elderly Sieg arrived as did some other guy he didn't know.

The arrivals of these people could very easily prove to be a pain to The King. How? Because the more people that game the more crowded it got. If the tavern were to get too crowded two things might happen; Shouyin might decide to leave to never be seen again outside of the rounds, or it'd get too crowded for Valentine to finally have his dream meeting. Valentine made the decision to take action. He was going to face his fear and finally talk to the half-golem.

Rising out of his seat, Valentine carefully maneuvered his way through the tables and other objects blocking his path. Somehow his path ended with him standing behind Shouyin. It was at this point Valentine broke into a nervous sweat. The somewhat sweaty right hand of Valentine would reach to tap the man on the shoulder only to be frozen half way. Why he felt so nervous about meeting the man he'd admired from afar he had no idea. Logically speaking, Shouyin had never really shown himself to be someone to fear. Yet, even without Shouyin striking fear into many with his actions, Valentine felt like a pre-pubescent boy asking out his crush for the first time in his life.

"S-s-s-s-s-s-s..."

He struggled to speak, but it wasn't working. So, instead Valentine merely ended up standing behind the man, hand reaching out with his mouth wide open. Yea, it was pretty safe to say he looked like an idiot by any man's standards.

A good few minutes after the cloaked man entered the doorway, Tenkai made his way past the doors of the tavern as well. His entrance was relatively quiet compared to his usual since he wasn't carrying his shakujo with him this time around. Although his outfit was a bit out of the ordinary, it certainly wasn't flamboyant or vibrant, so he'd blend in fine with his Buddhist monk robes.

Tenkai didn't look at the cloaked man immediately. He didn't want to let on anything just yet. Although he saw where the man was sitting, he did his best to make it look as if he wasn't even paying attention to him. For now he kept things in his peripheral, looking as if he had just come in for a drink.

In fact, why not order a drink anyway?

The monk moved up to the counter at the bar, taking a seat in one of the stools.

"Oh?"

It couldn't be helped. The cloaked man looked like the cautious type, anyhow. Tenkai was bound to be found out eventually. That wasn't really a difficult thing, though. Tenkai did wonder what kind of senses it took to read him that well with that hood hampering his vision, though. Whoever this mysterious man was, he had to be something special.

"Nothing, really," replied Tenkai as he turned to face the man. "Though I do remember seeing you in the Crimson Hawk the other day. Are you a competitor in the tournament?"

"That I am," replied the monk, "And I can sympathize with your sentiments. It is a shame that people are so entertained by violence. But it does give me a chance to find out why so many of these people fight in the first place."

Even though Tenkai preferred peaceful means, he understood why these tournaments were so popular. Everyone had different reasons to fight, whether they be just or unjust. Even a bad purpose was still a purpose, and audiences flocked not only to see the competitors' strength, but also their passion.

Of course, he had to admit these tournaments attracted the wrong attention more often than not.

"If you aren't a competitor, I'm guessing you're a spectator, right?"

Tenkai grinned.

It wasn't any sort of sly grin or some sort of quirk, either. It was a very whole-hearted smile that only someone with good intentions would have.

"Why else would someone have to fight in a world like this if their intentions are reasonable?"

Although it was odd to do so, Tenkai liked to answer with questions of his own. Sometimes questions were the best way to unlock the universal truths of the world.

"It's not so difficult, though," he continued, "There are really only two reasons why just men test their strength. One is simply in friendly competition, and the other is to find out if they're strong enough to protect others."

As he spoke, he hailed to one of the bartenders, asking them for a bottle of sake.

"Why, what isn't there to value in this world?"

Again with the cryptic way of speaking. What sort of joke could Tenkai be pulling?

"I value existence itself."

Slowly entering the building was the dark priest, dressed in an abnormal fashion as usual. Perhaps he seeks attention or he was simply an individual who desired to test out different type of clothing. Strapped into a tight gray belted straitjacket and baggy pants, he looked around the place with a bored expression. Most without a shadow of a doubt would state he was a demented b*****d, bearing his face with white face paint, symmetrical scar lines trailing down from his eyes in a glasgow smile, and a small satanic cross to the center of the forehead. To further establish a darker image, the sadist priest bore six piercings, a metal bar through each ear, three studs through the side of its upper nose, and one spike stud on each end of the bottom lip.

It was ridiculous for him to restrict his arms, yet Darious Kaiq had the remarkable ability to manipulate his body through his double jointed form and flexibility. Anyone who saw him could realize he wasn't a human per say with ominous hollow eyes with veins popping out continuously. Staring at the cloaked figure, he watched him considering he strikes him as an entity that looked quite interesting to him. For now he would attempt to conceal his presence, aimlessly watching the perimeter like a predator seeking prey.

[GTG for now, be back in an hour or two.]

"Just keep an open mind, monk. Things are not always so black and white as they seem..."

And with that, the cloaked man stood and began to walk out of the bar. He'd had enough of the monk's word games. He headed for the door and quickly exited.

The cloaked man stopped for a moment, shook his head, and kept walking, exiting the bar. The man offended him, and he had no time for rude annoyances.

If the loud and offensive man wanted to talk with the cloaked individual, he would have to follow him, as he was no longer in the bar.

"Yare, yare..."

That was certainly an enlightening little talk. Although Tenkai wasn't able to get too much information, he had a feeling that cloaked figure wasn't with the Order. Either that, or he was some undercover agent trying to find out what people thought about the Order. In either case, the monk was pleased with how he handled it.

Though perhaps he should have been a little less philosophical...

Suffice to say, the man definitely knew something, and odds were likely that he wasn't affiliated with them. Call it a hunch, but Tenkai doubted someone with such a morose outlook on life would be affiliated with a group dedicated to creating a utopia. Unless that was what they wanted him to think...

Nevertheless, it did give him some insight into other people wandering around the place. That straight-jacket clad man was a lot less silent than Tenkai figured, immediately persuing the cloaked figure as soon as he left. From what he was saying, it looked as if he was listening in on Tenkai's conversation. The mystery man didn't seem very interested in his advances, though.

Well, that's strange. It isn't usual for satanic priests to be so direct. Are they losing their touch already?

Tenkai figured now would be a good time to touch base with Chen. Fiddling through his robe, Tenkai pulled out the gPhone that the inspector gave him before coming to Latent. He had given one to each of the team members so that they could stay in contact and give each other information.

Only problem was...Tenkai had no idea how to use it.

"What am I supposed to do with this again?" he said as he prodded at the screen. He had used touch-screens before, but it had been way too long since he had to use equipment like this. He found himself at a loss, trying to remember the instructions.

"Oh wait, there it is...that must be Chen's contact."

He pressed the button, bringing the phone to his ear.

PIME TARADOX (sort of)

Aduven Kroww Wrote:

It was nearing full-on winter and the port of Latent was cold indeed.

The ginger haired merc exhaled heavily in a very contended sigh, watching her breath roll out in a puff of white. Her lips curled back into a small grin, taking some small enjoyment out of such a simple piece of nature. Ryke enjoyed the winter, though not thoroughly as some did, it was still a particularly nice season.

Ryke huddled further into the green bomber that once belonged to a former blue-haired merc, the memory behind the coat almost brought on an honest smile, but the hardass bounty hunter disguised it behind a smirking grin, continuing about her way.

Rounding upon the door to the tavern, she regretfully pulled a hand out of its warm pocket in order to pull it open and allow her passage.

She didn't have to take more than another single step before her attention passed over the heads of all but one figure and that figure was Connor. Her teammate. Ordinarily, Ryke would be thrilled to see him, despite their still budding friendship and partnership, he was good company, gave her some good laughs. A nice guy, laid back and relatively friendly but right now his formerly positive outlook was noticeably lacking and swapped out for a glum and far-away stupor.

He looked depressed.

Lips falling into a small frown, she crossed the room quickly to accompany her teammate in his obvious unpleasant mood at the bar, looking for a solution at the bottom of a glass.

"Doin' okay? Mind some comp'ny?" She sat down, and motioned to the barkeep.

"Rum. Bottle preferably."

She picked her grin up off the floor and gave the blond a light jab in his side with her arm. "Excited?" It was a small attempt to hopefully lift his spirits, in the Ryke way, considering she didn't often and openly express concern for people. However, in no way was she attempting to idly brush off whatever was addling him, but in her opinion it was always much more productive to buck up first and then spill your guts after.

Regardless, she was an open ear...

Aduven Kroww Wrote:

Connor let a tired smile come to his lips.

It was noticeable, whether or not he wanted it to be. At least, however, he was trying to be his chipper self that she was rather informally introduced to the day of their spar. Ryke wasn't going to point it out unless she felt it necessary and just kept up her own pep.

Maybe her own high spirits and good mood would influence him, at least long enough to push aside whatever demons he was wrestling with. She wasn't oblivious to the faces people made when they were struggling with inner turmoil.

Aduven Kroww Wrote:

" I'm absolutely fantastic. This..." He visibly cringed, before continuing, "...pear brandy, on the other hand is ******** horrible." He gave a wry grin and nodded to the barkeep as well. " Make that two bottles." While his words weren't slurred one bit, he had the faint smell of alcohol on his breath.

At first, when Connor tried to play it off as nothing, she eyed him carefully and knowingly, a reddish brow arched high indicating her suspicion. However, accusing eyes widened just slightly and Ryke laughed openly towards his commentary on his drink of choice.

She snorted. Connor wasn't off the hook just yet. "Uh huh, an' who taught ya to drink? Ebris?"

Ryke could faintly smell the alcohol on his breath, it wasn't putrid or obstructive but noticeable enough. That and she saw the barkeep clearing away a few more glasses before coming to sit down, the same glasses that he was now washing. She accepted the bottle from the bartender and gave a nod of thanks. Drinks were free for competitors, so she tossed a few coins into the tip jar and turned back to her teammate.

Aduven Kroww Wrote:

Connor sat back and groaned. "...Oooh, been a long day. I don't know if I should be pumped up and ready to go or hiding out here the rest of the week, away from Izette and her...pet."

Mm.

She grimaced slightly. Ryke knew Izzy was a handful at times, but the shifter was still her best friend, so she had learned to adapt to the punker's rather wild personality. She hoped there wouldn't be difficulties amongst the team. However, at the same time, the hunter knew there was more to Connor's woes than that.

If there was one thing she did well, it was reading people.

"Somethin's eatin you alive in there." Her grimace fell into a frown, and she tapped an index finger to the blonde's head for emphasis. "I know we're not exactly long time friends but you're on my team. That means your health - physically and mentally - is my business..." Ryke paused before adding, "An' I'd like to think we'll be better friends by the end of all this."

And that was the closest to mushy she would get before cracking the cap on the bottle and lifting it to her lips. She let the cool, tangy liquid slide past and trickle down her throat, and savored the lingering flavor on her tongue.

Izzy might have been the captain, but only because it had been her idea to join the tournament again. Ryke had done the recruiting, and chose both Lionel and Connor for good reason.

She trusted them.

The door creaked open. Slowly at first, until finally a single figure had pushed his way inside the tiny establishment, the door sort of slamming shut of its own accord behind him. He paused for a moment as he stretched his arms over his head, a yawn escaping his lips. Aged eyes had a rather hard time scanning the interior of the bar, but after much blinking and a slow adjustment the old man teetered forward, sort of quasi bent over as if he might have had a back problem.

"Darn shady bars, always gotta have that there low lighting." he mumbled to himself as he proceeded up to the bar, where he pulled himself out a seat and plopped himself down. He slipped his arms out of the leather jacket he wore and folded it as best he could and set it slightly down the bar. He looked from left to right, finally raising a hand to get the bartender's attention.

"Whiskey" he said rather dryly, staring up at the man who was to serve him his drink. Not being one to pass up a free drink Alphonse held up his right hand, showing off the shiny new fighter that was strapped around his aging wrist. The bartender nodded and went off to make his drink. Not that it was so hard, just some ice in a glass with a well proportioned amount of straight Whiskey. Simple tastes, old Alphonse had. After a moment or two his drink was set in front of him and he gave the man a curt nod before taking a sip. Ir burnt as it went down, probably because it had been almost three years since Alphonse had had a real drink. ah well, there went his streak.

The same young man also wasn't too pleased with the way the universe was treating his arrival, so he smiled extra hard, obviously trying to impose his will upon the natural order.

The kid didn't flinch at all once he was noticed. In fact, he just kept staring, smiling, then snapping his head to the next person that looked like they were competing in the tournament. By the time Alphonse was ready to turn his head back around, the stranger snapped his eyes onto the fighter at the bar, widened his smile even more, revealing the top row of his teeth, and waited for the man to turn back around before speaking.

"Alphonse Rudrough."

His voice was actually fairly deep for as young as he appeared. It wasn't at a freakish level, by any means, but just low enough in pitch to be noticeable. Perhaps even more disturbing though would be how hollow the voice was, standing in complete contrast to that disturbing smile on his face.

"Member of Team ODESSA. Captained by the vampire KB. A unique team in that they share very little in common. How do you do it? Knowing that two of your teammates are abominations to the natural order of things?"

His head tilted to the side, but that smile never left his face. Behind those eyes, the young man's mind was abuzz with information that had been attained by Lord knows what means.

"Statistics have shown that teams with a common goal and background are far more likely to reach success in Heaven or Hell. Two halves of your team meet this criteria. You will likely be eliminated in the second round."

The kid paused for a moment, looking down. The smile dimmed a bit, returning to its original state before he started revealing his teeth. Eyes fluttered, his head lifted, and his attention focused back upon Alphonse.

"The odds have changed, it seems."

Then the creepy wide smile returned.

"Depending on how the rest of Team ODESSA feels, you may even survive long enough to reach the semi-finals."

And just like that, his eyes snapped away, back to the rest of the competitors that had attempted to seek refuge at the bar.

Sins of an Angel Wrote:

For a moment, she paused in the middle of another sip and left her hand clutching the bottle to hover while she mulled over Connor's statement. She would have scoffed, snorted had it been anyone else but something about the casual manner just made her stop and think before setting the bottle down without taking a drink.

She turned to him, with question in her eyes, "Now why, would ya say a thing like that. How's someone like you not ridiculously popular with the ladies, and have more friends than pairs of socks?" It was hard to swallow to be honest. Ryke plucked and fussed at some bits of his blonde hair and thrust an index finger into his forehead. "I mean lookitchyou, you're attractive for starters - nice guy, good scrapper, questionable taste in liquor but hey we can always work on that..." The ginger afforded herself a chuckle, a bit of humor always went a long way.

Her grin seemed to return for the time being, "And you ain't a bad kisser either. 'Little forward with the smooch stealin' but I didn't hate 'em." It was time for a small bit of honesty as well it seemed...

Connor gave an abrupt grunt and stood suddenly, nearly knocking the chair back. Had it been something she said? His head was bent and suddenly his hair seemed longer than it should have been for his bangs covered his face in shadow and combined with the lighting of the tavern, his expression was unreadable. But then he started laughing, part to himself, part at Ryke's words. He looked up, a grin on his face, brown eyes locking onto Ryke's own blue-green.

"...It's complicated."

It was about this time the 'kid' entered and Connor's hackles rose, so to speak. The hair on the back of his neck stiffened and a dull ache spread along his spine.

With a sudden frown, a slight turn to take a look at the kid who was now talking to Alphonse, Connor snatched up the new bottle of rum and reached out to place a hand on Ryke's shoulder. He squeezed lightly.

Connor spoke gently, quietly but not so much as to make it obvious he was trying to hide something from lurking eyes and ears. "Ry- Zandra. Earlier, you said something about my...physical and mental health being your business and just now you're asking..." He huffed, annoyed at his lack of words, or rather his inability to explain himself clearly. With a sigh he dropped his hand to her wrist, pulling gently.

"Come on, I need some fresh air. I'll explain more outside." That was a pretty obvious hint that he didn't want to discuss whatever it was he wanted to talk about inside, near that strange kid. If Ryke let him, then Connor would drag her along with him, past Alphonse and the kid and out the door of the tavern. Behind him, a few coins spun lazily on the counter next to an empty rum bottle.

Connor headed for an alleyway and idly noted it was getting darker outside. His breath bellowed in front of him in great plumes and he let go of Ryke's hand to button up his jacket.

Sol opened the door to the Raven’s head slowly, he wasn’t trying to draw any undue attention to himself. Or at the very least as little attention as a six foot three man without wearing a shirt can generate. He helped the door close behind him gently so as to not slam it and distract everyone from their current conversations. Not that he was trying to sneaky or anything he simply didn’t know these people and was not about to try and make a scene.

He had spent the last few minutes slowly circling the block surrounding the building, not for any particular security reason but because he was trying to slow his heart beat back down before going inside. From his position just inside the door it seemed like this was a fairly busy location, which considering it advertised free drinks did not surprise him.

Sol wiped the sweat from his brow and shoulders as he made his way over to a table not far from the bar. He was desperately thirsty and had worked up quite an appetite on his run, and if the crowd was any indication of the quality of food he was in the right place. He chose a table closer to the door so as to avoid the smell of cigarette smoke and booze that hung around the bar. The table was the simple round style table with four empty chairs at it, and though Sol wasn’t expecting company he hadn’t seen any open two seat tables from his vantage point.

Picking up the menu that sat in front of him at the table, Sol slowly sat down into the chair, the fatigue of his run slowly starting to set in. Opening the menu, Sol ran his fingers down the list of entrees trying to find a hamburger or something that didn’t fall on the ‘fancy’ side of lunch options. Though Sol tended to watch what he ate some things in a life, a bacon cheese burger for example, were simply worth it. The pain, the long hours of dedication to burn off unneeded fat, the diet changes to keep his body toned… Even all that was worth it to occasionally taste the elysian glory that was a proper bacon cheeseburger.

He raised his in and middle finger to get the attention of a waiter and once one had acknowledge him and signaled that it would be a minute he lowered his hand and nodded in acceptance as he waited.

Yes, a bacon cheeseburger worth all of it, every damn last thing.

Sins of an Angel Wrote:

Ryke stuffed her bare hands into the warm pockets of the bomber and settled against an adjacent wall, waiting for Connor to initiate the conversation.

Night fell slowly and Latent came alive with light. The few lights in the alley flickered and as Connor leaned against the wall across from Ryke, he seemed a different man. Haunted, more guarded, as if he were two people in one. The Connor Ryke knew wasn't this drawn, this serious.

"...We're alone, that's good." He mumbled to himself, looking around. The bottle of rum he'd grabbed before leaving the building hung loosely between his fingers. Connor faced Ryke. "...Let me explain some things, because I know you're probably a bit...surprised to see me like this." He gave a tired smile, but it didn't reach his eyes.

His eyes...there was something off about them.

"Physically, and mentally, Ryke...I'm too much of a mess to begin to describe, but I think there's some of that in everyone."

A pause, and Connor stepped away from the wall to stand in the middle of the alley. A sputtering lightbulb cast his flickering shadow across the ground. It wouldn't have taken much to imagine the shadow having a life of it's own and Connor took a moment to study the dark reflection of his form. Briefly, before he turned his attention back to Zandra he saw the shadow stretch out, coiling into a skeletal figure, twisted and taloned. It grinned at him. With a blink the image vanished and he spoke to Ryke.

"...There really is something inside, eating me alive. Both in here, "he touched his temple, then moved his hand to the center of his chest, not his heart, "...and in here. An illness, you could say."

In the span of several seconds, all at once the atmosphere changed. Connor's face hardened and darkened, twisted into an angry snarl. Along his spine, the ache became a burn. Connor seemed to jump forward because all at once he was right in front of Ryke, a fist slamming heavily into the wall beside her head. Vapor curled from his lips as he half-whispered, half growled, "...But I call it a monster."

If she managed to overcome her surprise at the sudden, violent movement Zandra Ryke would clearly note several things. For one, Connor was hot. It was a minor increase in temperature, but given the typical human's 98 degree fahrenheit average, Connor's nearly 105 degrees was a high fever.

The second thing Ryke would notice was that Connor's eyes were changing. The brown leeched from the iris and the grey of hard stone set in, then came the an icy blue that flowed into the grey like water before freezing, filling in the cracks and threatening to shatter the grey. Finally, the flecks of gold appeared, solid specks that looked as out of place among the blue-grey backdrop as if the real thing appeared on your kitchen table.

The third thing of note, and probably the one that would go overlooked by Ryke was that Connor's breath smelled very faintly of rum. It was as if he had but a sip instead of a whole bottle. The smell of alcohol was filtered as well.

He stared into her eyes, his thoughts conflicted. Between his mixed feelings for the woman and her proximity, the pain along his spine as the Carapace stirred, becoming more active as his emotional state worsened, and that intense fear of his, fear that if he goes any further in explaining he'd end up losing control...Connor didn't know what to do.

Almost tenderly, he leaned close to Ryke, his face inches from hers.

...and then he spun away. From his hand, the same hand that had so violently hit the wall behind Ryke, black dripped.

" It laughs at me through the frail cage I've created to hold it."

Latent was a port city, the tavern sat against the docks and in this cold winter season the chill rolled right off the water's surface, carried into town with a light wind. The longer she stood there in the night's eerie silence save for Connor's hushed and somber voice, it seemed to seep right through the layers of clothing and to her very core.

The scene couldn't be any more cliche, with the flickering light casting awkward shadows along the pavement and neighboring walls of the establishment, the dim glow of lamps erected above every post along the boardwalk. Any faint brilliance from across the watery way seemed to get lost in the murky darkness.

Aduven Kroww Wrote:

"Physically, and mentally, Ryke...I'm too much of a mess to begin to describe, but I think there's some of that in everyone."

She could hear Connor speaking, but somehow, as she stood and stared at him calmly, silently and unmoving - studying him carefully. His physical stature was nearly identical, his personality was rather different in some ways but there were things that Ryke could never mistake, her lips were down-turned into a frown not out of discontent or unpleasant thoughts, but just deep concentration. That was just a habit, she always looked angry or upset while lost in thought, didn't mean she was though.

Finally after a period of nothing, she piped up. "Yeah? That sounds familiar." Ryke hadn't said to be smart with Connor, nor was it sarcasm, it was the gods honest truth. It was simply a statement but thus far he had yet to really differentiate between his problems and the next guy's.

Aduven Kroww Wrote:

"...There really is something inside, eating me alive. Both in here, "he touched his temple, then moved his hand to the center of his chest, not his heart, "...and in here. An illness, you could say."

Her eyes followed the path this has hand made, watching carefully still wearing a frown, though it had settled a bit and now wavered between neutrality and mild confusion.

What exactly was he implying?

There wasn't much to be said, save for "What?" and Ryke figured it was probably redundant, already plainly written on her face. The question though, wasn't about to go unanswered and came instead in the form of actions.

Ones that took her by complete surprise.

She barely saw the fist coming at the last possible second, giving Ryke only enough time to move her head, honestly expecting Connor to hit her ... but there wasn't even the slight kiss of a knuckle - he hit the wall with a resounding boom and left the ginger haired merc with large eyes and stunned.

Now, if it had been a spar, a fight, or combat initiated by either of them then there would be no shock, or surprise - had Connor been anyone else, she might have slipped around behind them and shoved them into the wall face first.

Only, he wasn't - and she didn't.

Her form relaxed though, releasing the tension after assuming she narrowly dodged an unprovoked attack. Turning her head to look at her teammate, she noticed it now. She felt the heat radiating off of his form and honestly didn't know what to think, his whole demeanor had completely morphed. Boldness overcame the huntress, a boldness that encouraged her to move back and put herself right between Connor and the wall and right in his direct line of vision, right at eye level - the inches difference between their heights was so insignificantly small that her eyes had nowhere else to go but fall on his.

Fascination was apparent within her face, staring back at the inner beast, the thing he had been holding at bay. Oh there was plenty of fascination, no real sign of fear but an intelligent acknowledgment of the potential threat.

However, the moment he closed some of the space between them, she tensed and grimaced, her natural defensive instincts itched, noticeably bothered by the close proximity of her teammate to her own self.

Sure, he had stolen a few kisses back during their spar, and she'd just been sitting down to drinks with him prior to the little show and tell session but the careful way he leaned in, with unclear intentions - it put her off. Not in a bad sense, but it was both awkward and familiar at the same time.

That was going to drive her crazy.

Finally, after what felt like a good minute of holding her breath he turned away and she scowled this time, not disapprovingly of Connor but for other reasons. Regardless, she reeled her thoughts back in and forced them to focus on the subject matter at hand.

"That was ... interesting." She started, carefully, moving away from the wall. Ryke was still watching Connor though, to see what else he would do, not just to make sure she was on her guard in case he thought it would be fun to throw another punch, even if he had intentionally aimed for the wall.

Connor - was a meta.

Here all this time she had taken her opponent for human, like herself. There was nothing wrong with that, but it was a nice twist of the plot. With studying eyes, she kept moving, almost circling him not in a predatory fashion or out of fear but caution and curiosity. "So, what is it?"

Ryke may have been chilled to the bone, but Connor seemed unaffected by the cold. Maybe that had to do with the sudden increase in body temperature, or maybe he just didn't care at the moment.

"So, what is it?"

Facing away from Ryke, Connor spoke as he began to slip out of his jacket. "A parasite, Ryke. Like a tapeworm, but a whole lot more vicious." The coat dropped to the ground followed by that bottle of rum he had forgotten he was holding. Then he reached down and pulled up his shirt, yanking it off over his head.

Connor was muscled, but Ryke would probably be surprised to see that he wasn't a god of muscle. Nor would she see the reason for his strength, as he appeared more lean than his punches suggest.

His reasons for undressing, at least for taking off his top layer of clothing, became apparent rather quickly. Turned away from Ryke, Connor's back was facing her. Along his spine, small black spikes that resembled horns protruded from his spine. He stood there for a moment, staring at his left hand, a hand scraped up by punching the wall, the hand that bled black. Beneath the skin, the tendrils of the Carapace writhed.

When he thought Ryke had seen enough, he turned to face her, raising his left hand in front of him to show her the writhing under the skin. His face was a grimace.

"It shares this body unwillingly and consumes it in order to survive. I don't like to think of it as an upside but..."

Rather than explaining his next bit in words, Connor just let the Carapace do the talking. The skin of his left arm blackened and the writhing increased a split second before the black tendrils burst out. Wriggling in the cold air, it looked like a myriad of black worms basically erupted from his arm. Then they went into action, wrapping around the arm and forming together in a shifting mass of matte black biomass.

All the while, Connor was talking, the slightest bit of strain showing in his voice. "The thing's body...it's like bone, but not. It's a predator...it wants nothing more than to kill, and..."

He wasn't very good at explaining, nor did he know the exact nature and biology of the Carapace. He just knew how it worked, what it did to his body, and why it wanted so badly to consume him utterly. He was winging it right now. The anticipation of the upcoming tournament was making the parasite a b***h to control, hence the strain that normally wasn't there. It wasn't just for Ryke's benefit, Connor really was struggling to keep the thing in check.

"...I don't...What else do I need to say? What can I say?" He stood there, almost looking...helpless, as the black body of the Carapace writhed on his arm, shifting, sometimes forming a clawed gauntlet, sometimes turning his arm almost skeletal. A few adventurous tendrils had detached themselves from the main mass on the arm and seemed to be clawing their way up his shoulder and over to his back as if trying to meet up with those spikes along his spine.

" I'm not liking this any more than you are."

Aduven Kroww Wrote:

"A parasite, Ryke. Like a tapeworm, but a whole lot more vicious."

She was still moving around him and watching his movements carefully, studying him from every possible angle, it was an idle series of movements, only done halfway consciously. Ryke hung on his words, noted them, committed them to memory and remained focused.

Parasite.

Okay, now he was getting somewhere and putting things a little more into perspective for her. Still, still he was beating around the bush.

Aduven Kroww Wrote:

The coat dropped to the ground followed by that bottle of rum he had forgotten he was holding ...

pulled up his shirt, yanking it off over his head ...

The bottle shattered on impact and her eyes were immediately drawn to it, watching the shards scatter across the ground briefly before looking back to Connor - who was in the process of stripping down.

Startled, Ryke balked - "OH hey woah now, people might get the wrong idea about--" but she ate her own words once her teammate had completely exposed his bare torso - and the oddities about it.

Along his spine, small black spikes that resembled horns protruded from his spine.

The word meta died on her lips before she could even think of it. It was a false label, inaccurately describing her teammate. It was inhuman yes, but neither of the typical words seemed to fit just what she was seeing and experiencing. Ryke had seen plenty of strange things in her twenty-eight years of life - especially in her line of work but the bounty hunter had never run across anything or anyone quite as unusual as Connor.

She found herself taking a few steps backward when he turned back to face her, thrusting the arm into her line of vision and holding it for her to see and witness the writhing and squirming, the thing within struggling to be free of it's fleshy prison.

That was some trippy s**t right there.

Aduven Kroww Wrote:

"It shares this body unwillingly and consumes it in order to survive. I don't like to think of it as an upside but..."

But?

But what?

It seemed like the show portion of the little show and tell session wasn't quite finished, there was still more to see. Ryke watched on with both fascination, and perhaps even the slightest bit uneasy, not disturbed but she was cautious and hesitant - it wasn't out of fear necessarily but self-preservation. If this thing really was as monstrous and difficult to control as Connor made it sound, then the odds of it or her teammate lashing out for any reason were on the higher end. Seeing the black mass, tendrils, sprouting worming and bursting forth earned a wide-eyed stare and reminded Ryke a little of Izzy and how her shape shifting ability worked, if not for the fact that this mass clearly had a mind of it's own.

It was, intelligent even, sort of - and suddenly she understood what he meant by parasite. It clicked, and her mouth hung open for a brief moment - awestruck by the eerie, twisted display.

She shuddered, noticeably, and not just because of the cold. He had managed to effectively startle her...

Aduven Kroww Wrote:

"...I don't...What else do I need to say? What can I say?"

" I'm not liking this any more than you are."

While he could plainly see her unease, her caution and disbelief, what he likely wouldn't expect would be just how deep her fascination ran for this thing. Ryke wasn't quite like her angry and aging partner Ebris, who loathed anything inhuman with such a fine passion it could almost be considered a second occupation. She was all about first impressions and general neutrality until given a reason to feel otherwise.

One good look at some of the people she associated with was enough to tell anyone that much.

Spying the forming and morphing gauntlet over Connor's other arm, she let her thoughts come forefront.

"Wow."

Feeling bold, she grinned with a newfound wickedness. "Hit me."

And if he hesitated - "Just - do it. Trust me." She just wanted to know, and her inner thrill junkie was twitching, begging for a small taste of what he could bring like this. It wasn't like she was gonna take a punch full on front, but still...

Snoogins pushed open to the door to the bar and headed in, making sure to stay out of the way of anyone who was still in the imediate area of the doorway. He dusted off his tan coat and black pants in a futile guester, as if the streets he had just walked through had covered him in some kind of unseen dirt. He adjusted the collar on his red and white patterned shirt as he looked around the room from behind his shades. He was hoping this place would be dark enough that no one would notice the faint metallic circles that seemed to live under his skin. He hated people asking questions about that.

Hopefully this place was going to be a bit more exciting then the hotel bar though. He had only spent a few moments there but that was about all he could actually take. He made his way further in, smiling briefly at anyone who looked in his direction while he looked to try and find a familiar face.

+++Dzan merely turned his head at the kid before the kid was pulled off to interview some other fragger. He'd sigh slightly. He was a washed up fighter. A very washed up fighter, but he had won one of the more infamous tournaments that crossed the width of Gaia Primus. Regardless of it all he began to drink the rot gut that was placed before him in between drags from the lho-stick. A small smirk formed upon his pierced lips. At least he was going back to Hive Dynol. Powers were limited, but dirty handed tricks were even worse than what Bloody Pandas displayed and even Team a** Tear displayed. Oh how he loved the Underhive.

"It's of no real consequence. Would you rather I call you by your nickname? 'Snoogins', was it?"

The creepy head turn was ceased, and he went back to about as normal as he could possibly be. There was still a giddy little smile on his face, but it wasn't to the extent that it would set off anybody's creep radar. In his lap was a small satchel, but in his right hand was a rather sophisticated looking PDA. Maybe that was how he was getting his information.

"Your attitude towards your health and preparation lead me to believe that you truly belong on a team that Never Knows Best."

A quick nod of his head to confirm the suspicion, causing his brown hair to whip forward and then back from the force applied by his neck.

"I won't take anymore of your time, sir. I'll be watching you, and the rest of your team, with great interest."

Oop, there was that creepy smile again.

Sins of an Angel Wrote:

She shuddered, noticeably, and not just because of the cold. He had managed to effectively startle her...

He was concentrating too much on keeping the Carapace from running rampant to let his sorrow at her expression show. His face was strained. He didn't like to do this to her, to reveal the creature he constantly fought to control.

It hurt to see her almost...scared, of him.

Sins of an Angel Wrote:

Feeling bold, she grinned with a newfound wickedness. "Hit me."

Connor blinked.

What did she say? Did she just say what he thought she said? His mind went blank for a second and in that time, he just stopped thinking as the ridiculousness of her request hit home.

"...Huh?" Confused, he lost a bit of his hold on the Carapace and it's movements became more rapid, a bit more eager. With a grimace he grabbed at the writhing mass with his right hand and backed away.

Sins of an Angel Wrote:

And if he hesitated - "Just - do it. Trust me." She just wanted to know, and her inner thrill junkie was twitching, begging for a small taste of what he could bring like this. It wasn't like she was gonna take a punch full on front, but still...

He shook his head, disbelief fading quickly as anger replaced it.

He shook, just a bit and his arm lowered. The black tendrils tugged at his pant leg and crawled over his shoulder, digging into the skin of his back.

Here he was, baring a part of himself he guards so closely for fear of losing control, and Ryke was acting...she was treating this like...

"Dammit Zandra! This isn't a ******** game!" He shouted. His rage was pretty clear; you could say his eyes were burning but they were, in fact, a shifting mass of colors. Shifting exactly like his hair. Different shades of varied colors shot through his hair and it rippled and waved, more than normal considering the light breeze from the ocean that blew through the streets of Latent.

She wanted him to hit her, to punch her with that arm currently being devoured by that abomination. To his very core, he refused to strike her, not willingly. But in his anger, Connor was moving before he thought to stop himself.

He wasn't going to hit her.

He wasn't.

WHAM

He moved as fast as he had before, stepping up close to Ryke. And like before, his left fist, gauntleted in the strange shifting armour that was an extension of the parasite, slammed hard into the wall, shattering brick and sending shards flying.

Once again, he was face to face with Ryke, hunched over and staring at her face with those shifting eyes of his. His hair stopped it's antics and calmly transitioned from black, to bright blue and all the shades in between. Several shards of brick and sliced his cheeks. Red trickled from the cuts, the black mass on his arm died down.

"..."

He said nothing.

"Michael White."

An unfamiliar voice drifted into Sol’s ears as he sat their trying to decide how he would want his bacon cheeseburger prepared. Though he didn’t recognize the voice the name was familiar enough for Sol to instantly look up from his menu and search the room for its origin.

Though the actual origin of the voice was obscured, Michael White himself, or Snoogins as he preferred to be called yet rarely was, was quite easy to find. Only an inch or two shorter than Sol he may not have been the tallest person at the bat but silhouetted by the door he stood out easily enough.

Raising his hand to get Snoogins attention he smiled and called out to him.

“Snoo.”

Sol had yet to find an effective means of referring to him that didn’t take four syllables and a half hour of laughing under his breath to get the mans attention. His latest experiment however didn’t seem all that effective either.

Sol frowned slightly and glanced back down at the menu as he pondered something better, it had been a constant game since Mr, Brown had assigned them as team mates and something Sol had reveled in, in the same way as other enjoyed crosswords puzzles.

No, too blunt… Perhaps initials? What was his middle name again?

Sol shook his head and looked back up at Snoogins to see if he had heard his earlier call, and motioned to a chair across from him.

“Good evening Mr. White, I take you’ve had a fun filled day of debauchery and unconsciousness.”

Sols grin widened as Snoogins disposed of the cigarette. It was a polite gesture, and something sol was willing to reward, as between the two drinking was a much more tolerable flaw to him than smoking. Sol put down his menu and physically grabbed one of the waiters that was making their way through the narrow set of pathways between the tables. Not exceptionally hard but enough that the exposed arm muscles flexed as it got a strong grip on the mans upper arm.

“Well then, drinks are on me! With any luck you’ll wake up with enough of hangover to not remember your old one. That’s half the trouble I’m told in changing ones identity.”

Looking up at the waiter with a kind grin, his large blunt features imposing, if softened by the mans enlarged smile. His tone was polite and partially apologetic so as to not make the waiter feel threatened.

“Yes we will have a pitcher of Beer, and pitcher of Kool-Aid if you would at your earliest possible convenience.”

Letting go of the waiters arm Sol looked back at Snoogins and smiled the waiter standing beside him quickly writing down their order before running off to get their order and some distance from the large half undressed man.

“Such good service he--”

He stopped mid sentence as his eyes widened in shock and frustration, than slammed his fist down on the table, his head hanging down to look at the table before lifting up with a sad almost pitiful frown on his face.

“Damnit, I forgot to order my burger…”

“The point is that you profit from it in one way or another, not whether its worth it or not.”

Sol said bringing his right and up and rubbing his thumb and forefinger together to simulate rubbing two coins together a sinister grin spreading over his face. He lowered his hand lessened the grin slightly as he tried to regain his composure slightly.

“ As for the show, I’m not sure we’ve seen anything just yet. From what I recall of the last few years of coverage this is just the beginning, though I suppose TV coverage benefits from the ability to cut the boring parts out of the loop.”

Sol leaned back into the chair and took a deep breath his body still slowly cooling down from his several hour run earlier that day. He smilled and rested his hands on the edge of the table.

“I suppose though that we see this whole event different my friend, we didn’t come here to prove ourselves or to seek some overall betterment of out friendship. Hell, what dynamic we share can be summed up pretty much only as Co-workers. We have a boss, he has his personal assistant and we have… well, we are superfluous my friend. Our job is done by other who are paid to protect us and our employer.

And what are we to be if our job is already done for us?“

Sol grinned widely again and took a long deep breath, letting it exhale slowly in a long drawn out complacent sigh.

“Exceedingly well paid, my friend, Exceedingly well paid.”

“No.”

Sols demeanor changed his brows furrowing downward as is he was witnessing storm clouds come rolling behind Snoogins head.

“ No, money isn’t just money.”

Sols demeanor had changed over the period of just a few seconds. He was not reacting as he usually did, his usually light hearted yet some what stoic demeanor had vanished his expression serious and stern.

“Money built you Mr. White, gold brick by gold brick, you are not a product solely derived from god and nature anymore. You have the blessing of Hephaestus in your body, making you are as much a product of Alpha through Epsilon as the special clothes you wear. You of all people should realize that.”

Sol demeanor continued to darken, it was obviously a topic he had spoken and discussed in the past. He did not seem specifically angry nor was he attempting to threaten Snoogins, but he had become increasingly serious.

“No Money is not just face value, it build kingdoms and destroys lives, it like any tool has the power to be good or evil, and the worlds rational morality demonizes and glorifies it at the same time.”

Snoogins was however saved by the arrival of their drink order and a set of glasses, to which Sol smiled brightly, his mod shift was disturbing but perhaps a bit of a relief. Sol poured himself a drink and smiled before turning to the waiter his broad smile still showing.

“I’ll have a Bacon Cheeseburger, medium, please just bacon and cheese none of that special sauce or whatever… Please no sauce, I cant stress that enough.”

His order finally in Sol returned his gaze to Snoogins his gaze now much more relaxed as he took another sip of his Kool-aid.

Sins of an Angel Wrote:

"ColinCONNOR ****** st, Connor. I'm sorry Connor. You're right. It isn't a game. That was a stupid thing to ask. You can forget it." Goddammit, she pushed away from the wall, attempting to correct her mistake with a pass of the hand.

His eyes went grey, the blue and gold seeping in like before, but now spidery lines of black wound around the veins of color. She turned away and he narrowed his eyes, yanking his arm from the wall and reaching for her shoulder with his right arm, the one not shifting and changing.

He wasn't done with her yet.

Before he grabbed her though, he paused...and let his arm drop to his side. Ryke was speaking again.

Sins of an Angel Wrote:

"I wasn't using my brain, thinking about winning the damn tournament when this is honestly a big deal to you." And the fact that it hit a little too close to home...

"...Damn right you weren't thinking. Ryke..." But he wasn't going to rub it in and stopped right there with a heavy sigh. Despite his anger, he didn't have it in him to convey just exactly what he was feeling. A man of few words, maybe, or just doing a terrible job at explaining himself.

The look in his eyes and the hole in the wall inches from where Ryke had stood were words enough for her it seemed.

He shook his head angrily and turned his back to the woman, fuming silently as he gathered up his clothes. As he grabbed his shirt, the black mass writhing on his arm slowly vanished, reabsorbing into the skin. By the time he had the clothing in his arms and was pulling the shirt over his head, the last spine was vanishing back into the skin of his back.

He was sweating, looked thinner all of a sudden and his left arm was scratched and cut, bits of mortar and blood clinging to it in places.

Sins of an Angel Wrote:

Now, if only his hair would remain blonde...

It stopped it's shift between blue and black and settled on staying jet black. His eyes went yellow for a moment, shifted to green then gradually settled back down to a lighter tint of brown. It seemed he was calming, somewhat, but he still looked furious.

He picked up his jacket and shook it a bit to get the glass off. As he slipped the stitched-up article of clothing back on, he turned back to Ryke, one sentence from her apology coming to mind as he spoke.

You can forget it...

"I won't forget it Ryke. Don't...don't push me like that."

Don't ask me to...

He paused, looking at her quietly. His anger abated and through his heavy frown...something akin to tenderness showed as he watched Ryke. A clink and an impact on his hand caused him to look down, his eye catching a large shard of glass that had gotten caught in his jacket sleeve and fallen into the pile that remained of the shattered rum bottle.

In the broken and shattered reflection of the glass shards, Connor saw himself. The image shifted and he felt the parasite squirming under his skin, still agitated from earlier. The black mass was consuming his face and as he saw his eyes vanish, a skeletal grin appeared in the broken reflection.

"...********." He scattered the glass with a kick and stormed out of the alley, pausing only momentarily at the mouth, head down.

Almost too quietly to hear, "I don't want to hurt you."

Moments later, Connor's footsteps were fading, retreating down the streets of Latent.

Aduven Kroww Wrote:

His eyes went grey, the blue and gold seeping in like before, but now spidery lines of black wound around the veins of color. She turned away and he narrowed his eyes, yanking his arm from the wall and reaching for her shoulder with his right arm, the one not shifting and changing.

The shoulder grab took her by surprise, and she was yanked back just a hair, turning to look at Connor with wide-eyed question - only to watch the yellow gold and blue seep into eyes that were otherwise naturally brown and in tandem with the changing shades of his hair, Ryke began to hesitate again and faltered every time he even looked remotely like an old face.

There weren't any bad connotations but it certainly made things awkward for her, he didn't say anything about her little slip of the tongue fortunately but that didn't mean either of them had forgotten it. Obviously, it was on the top of her mind.

Facing him down, taking his scolding and anger had reminded her of last year's tournament - the confrontation in the hallway with Colin about the Leviathan Stadium incident and how intense it had been. Yeah, she never wanted to go through that again.

Nor did she want there to any animosity between herself and Connor. He was a nice guy, and while they were still sort of getting acquainted, she liked having him around. There was also the team to consider and even if she was only the Vice Captain, any rough waters between them would be detrimental. Win or lose.

He let go, and her shoulders slumped, mouth forming a very lax frown.

Aduven Kroww Wrote:

"...Damn right you weren't thinking. Ryke..." But he wasn't going to rub it in and stopped right there with a heavy sigh.

....

He was sweating, looked thinner all of a sudden and his left arm was scratched and cut, bits of mortar and blood clinging to it in places.

....

"I won't forget it Ryke. Don't...don't push me like that."

Don't ask me to...

He might not have wanted to rub it in but that's exactly how it came out, and her frown just deepened, followed by a heavy sigh of her own. Now what the hell was she supposed to say in response to all that?

When he turned away, Ryke realized now just what sort of state that the "parasite" had left her teammate in - he looked ragged, cuts and abrasions in places it had formed, visibly thinner and just physically worn. Not to mention bleeding in various places. Not enough to be serious, but still.

She scowled with minor discontent, amazed and disapproving - not of Connor but the fact that she brought it on. More or less.

Wasn't that just fine and dandy? The guilt was going to loom over her head now. All night. She hadn't thought of anything good to say in time to stop him from turning away, and so by the time she fell out of her dazed thought process, he was already

"I - damnitt."

Eliciting a few grumbles, she took off after him. "Now wait a second, Connor-"

She wasn't going to just let him walk away like that. It was no way to end a conversation and Ryke knew if she left him leave without stopping him or chasing after than that guilt would only persist, likely all the rest of the week or hell, she might have permanently pissed him off and that too was no way to leave a scene.

Fortunately, he was only walking - briskly - but walking and Ryke had no problem catching up. She made a grab for his arm to lead him in the opposite direction - toward the docks. It wasn't a rough movement, it was firm but she wasn't going to yank him back. "C'mon. Let's go for a walk."

Hell, Connor didn't have to say a damn thing, she was fine doing all the talking. For once.

"Just ... so you know. I'm not insensitive." Ryke paused, and offered up some honesty. "Stupid maybe, sometimes even a little brash, but not insensitive."

"I was once told by a priest, that every long journey, deserves a long drink at its end."

He lifted a hand, trying to get a refill, even as a single finger ran along the rim of the empty mug.

He was dressed for a desert climate, his clothing giving off something of a middle-eastern feel-- considering he did just come up from Barthavos.

His build was slender with sinewy, toned muscle, and his complexion was somewhat tanned, as if he constantly was in the presence of the Sun, wherever he went. He had ear-length, pointy, jet black hair that stuck out from the wraps around his head which seemed to connect to the mantle he wore. His eyebrows were thin and apparently always furrowed, while his single eye seemed to always give off a 'dull' look to it.

His face was slightly long and he had small ears, the left being adorned with lots of gold hoop ear cuffs--we're talkin' like a dozen (give or take).

The only feature that really stood out on his face was a sword scar between his eyes, going right across his nose and a pair of horizontal 'tiger striped' scars across the back of his neck.

His duffel remained between his feet, while a long, heavily wrapped object remained strapped to his back.

"But, I have to admit, I'm sort of not taking that to heart."

Vahn Fah Wrote:

"I was once told by a priest, that every long journey, deserves a long drink at its end."

Tenkai laughed wholeheartedly.

"Wise words! Wise words, indeed!"

With that, he poured himself another cup of sake.

Almost contrary to the somewhat middle-eastern appearance of his new acquaintance, the monk was dressed in a very eastern style. Nearly his entire body was covered in a black robe with a royal blue Buddhist scapular wrapped around his right shoulder and the left side of his waist, attached at his shoulder by a gold ring. A large Buddhist rosary necklace hung from his neck, the beads quietly clacking together as he moved his body.

If the man bothered to look, he'd see that the monk's right hand that he used to drink was encased in a metal gauntlet. It looked like some sort of samurai arm guard with armored fingers. What could a monk be doing wearing that sort of thing?

The oddest thing about Tenkai would probably be his features. His dark brown hair was tied back into a ponytail with split bangs, and his somewhat long and youthful face gave him the appearance of a young Japanese monk. But these features betrayed that sort of notion. Although not clearly European, Tenkai was definitely not born Japanese. Then again, it probably wouldn't matter to the traveler that Tenkai was a gaijin.

As he finished drinking his sake, he finished looking over the strange man, even more perplexed by his appearance. He looked as if he had just come from a desert...both in attire and complexion. The tan of his skin suggested long periods spent in the sun, so it was no surprise to the monk that the man needed a drink.

However...

...something about that single eye and scar really began to prod at the back of Tenkai's mind...Just who was this strange traveler anyway?

Not to mention the luggage he was carrying, either. Like the traveler, Tenkai also carried a long, wrapped object strapped to his back. There were many possibilities for what such items could be, but for all either of them knew they had similar purposes.

Vahn Fah Wrote:

"But, I have to admit, I'm sort of not taking that to heart."

"Perhaps that is for the best, though," said Tenkai as he set his cup down, "If you aren't feeling much for alcohol, perhaps you thirst for something else."

((Edit: For Silver...))

As Tenkai spoke to the man, he was surprised as another individual suddenly stepped up to the counter. He seemed to prefer standing than sitting, leaning against the bar counter.

Silver Alexander Wrote:

I should have known you would only show up for the free drinks...

It was a joke, of course.

By the way he spoke to the man from the desert, it would appear that the two of them were already acquainted. Perhaps they knew each other from somewhere, or were competing on the same team.

Not to mention that familiar voice. Where did he...

Silver Alexander Wrote:

The rider would then use his right hand to deftly remove the helmet, revealing brilliant green eyes and wild, platinum hair, and that big roguish grin Vahn would know all too well.

"Eh, Champ?"

He had always had a thing for dramatic entrances.

What!?

It was only a momentary expression of surprise, but it wasn't something he could easily stifle. Tenkai recognized that silver hair and grin anywhere. That was Silver Alexander of Team Glacier.

Tenkai had read a few things about him during his investigation last year, and it was hard not to recognize someone that was well-known around the tournament. After doing reconaissance for Mitsuyo, Tenkai had hoped to get the chance to speak to Silver. There were many things he needed to ask him, though it was hard to say whether or not the Tavern was the right place...

However...

Did he just call this man "champ?"

Turning once more to the desert traveler, Tenkai began to put two-and-two together.

Could it be...?

"Yare yare..."

Something else...

One eyebrow raised up, he simply lolled his head to the side and grabbed hold of a fresh mug of ale. That brash, young upstart was finally here and now he was feeling a bit more like his old self.

"Don't fight as badly as you run that mouth of yours and maybe that'll be true." He raised the mug and took a sip this time, taking a glance towards the man sitting next to him now.

"There's always been an unquenchable thirst in me. No matter how badly I try to deny it, I just can't seem to stop giving in to it.

Like an animal." He grinned and leaned back a bit now, even as a bit of life came to his one good eye.

He was hoping of course to maintain something of a low profile before the tournament began. The last thing he needed was a bunch of upstarts trying to prove something.

"Pffft-AHAHAHA!"

No surprise there. Without even missing a beat, Silver tried to stifle a laugh, but failed miserably as he roared, releasing a jovial outburst. Other patrons near the counter who had been minding their own business might have noticed them at this point. The response had been kind of surprising to him, but he knew Vahn, and it was hard for the loud-mouthed younger fighter not to be happy after not having seen an old friend for so long.

"Hah... okay okay, sorry. I get it, I really do."

Silver would set his helmet down, and reach to pull the barstool back up tot he counter, turning to sit on it next to his team mate. He really did understand. It annoyed him that for whatever reason those in charge of the tournament had decided to open the hotel and surrounding businesses up to tournament-goers so early this year. It had really killed the media spectacle of it all, and opened up a whole can of worms for all sorts of other problems. The actual fighting was still over a month away. It was all just so... boring to Silver. HoH was supposed to be bigger than that. He hoped the pre-fight excitement would pick up closer to opening ceremonies. He wasn't even going to go to the Hotel until it did. No sense in letting them tag you with one of them FIGHTERS any sooner than you had to, anyway.

But now wasn't the time to dwell on that. Now was the time for old friends to catch up. Silver motioned to the bartender, his face lit up.

"Barkeep! The usual, please."

The bartender just sighed and rolled his eyes, yet still appeared to prepare Silver's beverage. It seemed like the young man had been there before, much to the owners dismay. In the mean time, Silver would turn his head, and lean over to Vahn, before giving him a hearty slap on the back.

"At any rate, it's good to see you, too."

Tenkai Wrote:

"Yare yare..."

"Hmmmm?"

Silver would lean back further, glancing around Vahn too find the monk on the other side of him, his eyes glued to them both.

"Oooh, and who's your friend here? Someone you met on your travels to the far east? What's with the get-up, Gramps?"

"Here."

The bartender had returned with Silver's drink. Milk... in a dirty glass.

Still a kid after all.

Sins of an Angel Wrote:

"I - damnitt."

Eliciting a few grumbles, she took off after him. "Now wait a second, Connor-"

She wasn't going to just let him walk away like that.

He wanted to turn around and smack her. Didn't she see what kind of mood he was in?

At the same time however, he wanted to her to follow him, keep him company and that contradiction sent his emotions reeling.

If she kept the apologies down...

Sins of an Angel Wrote:

Fortunately, he was only walking - briskly - but walking and Ryke had no problem catching up. She made a grab for his arm to lead him in the opposite direction - toward the docks. It wasn't a rough movement, it was firm but she wasn't going to yank him back. "C'mon. Let's go for a walk."

Hell, Connor didn't have to say a damn thing, she was fine doing all the talking. For once.

"Just ... so you know. I'm not insensitive." Ryke paused, and offered up some honesty. "Stupid maybe, sometimes even a little brash, but not insensitive."

And she wasn't. Goddammit.

Connor sighed, but he didn't shake her off and let her guide him. The ocean breeze swept through him, and despite his raised body temperature, he shivered. Not from the actual cold, but just thinking back to the alley.

"..You're not...." He shook his head. All of a sudden his anger lifted. But he was left with frustration, though mostly at Ryke because she kept apologizing.

He didn't like apologies and preferred to deal with his issues alone, which is why he was trying so hard right now to just forget about the alley. He wasn't going to let it slide, but he certainly didn't want it to fester inside of him all bottled up.

"Ryke..." He didn't want to hear any more.

He stopped and turned.

"You talk too much."

Then he pulled her in close and kissed her.

Vahn Fah Wrote:

Something else...

One eyebrow raised up, he simply lolled his head to the side and grabbed hold of a fresh mug of ale. That brash, young upstart was finally here and now he was feeling a bit more like his old self.

"Don't fight as badly as you run that mouth of yours and maybe that'll be true." He raised the mug and took a sip this time, taking a glance towards the man sitting next to him now.

"There's always been an unquenchable thirst in me. No matter how badly I try to deny it, I just can't seem to stop giving in to it.

Like an animal." He grinned and leaned back a bit now, even as a bit of life came to his one good eye.

He was hoping of course to maintain something of a low profile before the tournament began. The last thing he needed was a bunch of upstarts trying to prove something. +++Dzan was well within his drugs and alcohol by the time the two time champion had entered the establishment, but he wasn't gone enough to not realize who it was, but to the Cyberpunk it was just a fellow warrior. A man who drew blood to honor those greater than himself....or some slith like that. Dzan was pretty far gone into everything and he decided it was time to stop.

+++He'd get up, unsteadily at first, and walk off. His hand patting Vahn on the shoulder. No words being spoken, but it was more of a good luck, mate. Vahn may not even recognize who the fragger was, but if he stayed around the parts he'd realize that Dzan Streea was still lurking the area before his "ride" showed up. Though, if the man caught sight of the tattoos that swirled about the man's form and the chainaxe that rested in a steady grip he might recognize a man that was a fellow champion.

+++With that done he merely walked out of the establishment into the "real word". He'd sober up some and then come back to the place to get hammered again. He was still trying to keep his sanity in check until he left. Say good bye to those who knew him and to encourage those that didn't to fight like they have fought before.

Rage V

Side Story

Chapter Start

"Nothing like a nice drink after a hard day's work. Good job filming, everyone, drinks are on me!"

This seemed like as good a place as any for a watering hole. Rage V, one of Gaia's most popular and successful shows over the last two years, had just wrapped up it's filming for the day. The crew was tired, though the show's star (well, one half of it's star, in a way) was still feeling spunky enough to see what else there was to do around good old Latent.

The answer, apparently, was get a drink. As if the tavern wasn't crowded enough, about fifteen more people filed in, some with headphones around their neck or a camera around their shoulder. One of them stood out in particular, his large black hat with the Rage V logo emblazoned on it above a scruffy beard, which in turn was above a vest that had "DIRECTOR" in large capital letters on the back. There was a certain... twang to his voice that nobody else in the group seemed to have.

"Sakura, hon, wouldn't you like to just head back and rest a bit? You don't want to push yourself too hard." Without missing a beat, the green-haired woman spun around and started walking backwards towards the bar area. "Hey, you can if you want, but I'm thirsty. Besides, look at all these colorful folks. You're bound to run into..."

She stopped mid-sentence as she turned back around, taking in the group at the bar.

"Heeeey, pineapple head!"

It was impossible (for her, at least) to miss her teammate from two years ago. She was sure she had seen the silver-haired guy and the other guy in the robes, too, but she'd just have to figure all that out later. She unceremoniously dragged a chair up to the lot of them. "Palette swap! Silver-hair! And other guy! How've you all been?"

She grinned widely.

Right after Tenkai had finished speaking, there was a beep from his gPhone.

?

"Ehh...just a moment."

Tenkai didn't know much about technology, so he was very thankful that the gPhone was self-explanatory. It was a text message...and a rather long one at that. Was it really possible to send such long pieces of text over the phone? Tenkai had heard of text messaging, but this felt like it needed a mini key--

--And that's when Tenkai noticed the mini keyboard on the touchscreen.

Yare, yare...

Tenkai skimmed through the text message, his eyes momentarily looking up to see a rather drugged-up-looking Dzan Streea pass by, patting Vahn on the shoulder. That odd looking weapon of his was hard to miss as it was. It seemed as if he was going somewhere else for the time being...probably for the best considering all the alcohol in the area.

Perhaps their paths would cross later...

From what Tenkai gathered, it seemed as if Chen had run into the same cloaked man he had told him about. Hah...and to think he doubted me. Now the inspector wanted attention focused on that mysterious Ms. Lumina, from the Order of Illumination. She was definitely next on Tenkai's list, but getting information would be very tricky. It was always hard to tell between true and false information. It was just as Chen said. If he didn't work it from the proper angles, he'd be led by the nose.

Unfortunately, Tenkai had found something a bit more pressing at the moment...albeit related to the investigation as a whole. There would be plenty of time to seek out Lumina.

The monk took note of the strange symbol Chen had sent him as well. It didn't look like anything he remembered being associated with the Order or the Foundation. Odds were likely this mystery man was another side of the equation in this situation. Either that, or this was all part of some master plan...

Putting the gPhone away for now, Tenkai resumed his conversation with the two fighters before him.

"Sorry about that. Just a message from a--"

And that was when a familiar-yet-unfamiliar-looking green-haired girl pulled up a seat.

Sakura Wrote:

"Palette swap! Silver-hair! And other guy! How've you all been?"

"--friend?"

Tenkai was at a loss of words.

"Why I'm...doing very well! How are you?"

But still unusually friendly...as usual.

Tenkai Matsumoto Wrote:

"Hahahahahaha!"

His face lit up as he laughed at Silver's comment. Thinking about it further, it was most likely meant for Vahn. Odds were likely that Fah was his senior, and Tenkai wasn't the only one in unusual garb. Even so, the thought of both situations was enough to ellicit Tenkai's cheerful brand of joviality.

"This is certainly a fine day to share a drink."

Silver just appeared confused as the other man laughed. Wait a minute, this guy wasn't old at all! Silver had thought only geezers were allowed to wear Buddhist monk robes and spout sagely wisdom. And he was just used to Vahn's weird clothes. Oh well, at least he seemed nice enough.

"That it is."

Silver would raise his glass in cheers to their companion before taking a swig of milk. It wasn't that he refused to drink alcohol, he certainly had before when he had received some nice bottles of gin from dear old friend Dante Decker. Now the aphrodisiac wine... that was another story. It was just... something else. Sure, it was fine to drink and make merry, but Silver hated the idea of getting lost inna bottle like that. It wasn't very heroic at all. Plus, it just tasted gross. And there were still some things about Silver that might surprise Vahn... or they might not. Despite his happy-go-lucky attitude, he still imagined himself as some sort of bad a**, trying to live up to the other man's expectations. With no other real adventures to speak of between tournament seasons (aside from that bizarre outing to Barthavos), Silver made his way around town in his spare time visiting various bars and other seedy joints, looking for a street fight or some other good time, but usually just ended up trying to be friendly with the patrons or staff. He couldn't help it. Hence, the barkeep's mild annoyance with his presence.

Silver would take another drink, wiping the milk mustache off his face with he back of his leather clad hand before responding to Vahn with a smirk.

"You're always taking care of some things somewhere. Do you know how hard I've been trying to find you for the last year... maybe two? We're both just lucky you managed to get my message before this year's Heaven or Hell actually started. It took a long a** time for it to find you, even with the clan's help... what's left of it..."

Silver just sort of trailed of at the mention of the clan, and that woman. Their living arrangement was a bit... awkward at the moment, to say the least. If Vahn hadn't already spoken with his half-sister, he would learn of it all too soon, Silver was sure. But then again, ninja or not, Mitsuyo was girl, and like any other girl, she would probably react badly to the situation and might not mention it to Vahn at all.

He sat quietly for several long moments, listening to Vahn muse while the monk seemed to be playing with his phone, another rather unusual act for a man in his get-up. A stupified Dzan Streea had seemed to stagger by at some point, but he was only interested in Vahn, just like everyone else there. Silver was a little disappointed, but Dzan would probably only remember him as the guy he'd administered a severe beating to in the Blazestar cargo carrier two years prior. Silver couldn't work up the nerve to say anything because the thought of taking a flanged mace to the spine still made his back hurt, as well as the weapon the fearsome, tattooed warrior now carried just gave him chills. He hadn't seemed exactly sober, anyway.

Silver had decided to clam up and just let his old friend enjoy his drink like he seemed intent on doing, but the lack of anything to say eventually drove the fidgety young man to doodle on a bar napkin with a pen he'd found, while occasionally glancing up at the bar TV, which had been set to the news covering a report on some sort of local vigilante calling himself the Crimson Something. It couldn't quite be heard over the noise of the bar. Especially when another large group had begun to file in, turning Silver's attention to the door. He nudged at Vahn's side, pointing toward the entrance.

"Woah, it's getting crowded in here. Looks like a film crew. I wonder what-"

Sakura Wrote:

"Palette swap! Silver-hair! And other guy! How've you all been?"

He had somehow missed their ring leader, who had managed to drag a chair up to their little, steadily-increasing-in-size group. Silver's head spun around to the other side, his eyes wide.

"S... S-Sakura-chan?!"

He spoke as if he knew her, and certainly he did, being aware that she had sort of been on Fracture the last time either of them had been in HoH... right? Or was it the sea-weed headed guy who had been in the desert? Weren't they both on the team? That wasn't right... that's too many members. But that wasn't important right now, that was a long time ago. Besides, that wasn't how Silver knew her. He knew her from TV. She was the star of his favorite TV show! Right there, sitting in a bar with him!

"Hm?"

Yasuo began to pay a little more attention to the group at his far left. A monk, a noble, a silver haired man, and a green haired woman. If one could put a label on this kind of group, they'd surely mark it as the "Bowl of Mixed Nuts" one could say. The two men standing there with the samurai seemed very familiar, as if the shinobi had seen them from a poster of some sorts, or a past winners montage.

"Are they-," it then occurred to Yasuo that those two were a part of the beloved "Glacier". They were mentioned in his mission report, saying that they are the only team in the history of the tournament to win twice in a row, and hold the title. They were more than just a reckoning force now, they were a point of interest. Yasuo turned his chair in their direction to get a better listen in on things, maybe even join in on the conversation. It never hurt to get to know who you were fighting - it was in fact encouraged back at home.

While waiting on a good time to enter in, he'd order himself something non-alcoholic - something like a grape juice.

She caught Vahn's gaze as she sat down. She knew it, even with the eyepatch. The kind of gaze that went straight through the patch, pierced her, went through the back wall, popped a nearby child's balloon, then settled in somewhere on the coast for a bit of rest and relaxation.

Nice to see you, too, bud.

She didn't have much time to expound on the thought though. The guy in the robes giving off the "I like to talk" aura had already responded.

Tenkai Matsumoto Wrote:

"Why I'm...doing very well! How are you?"

But still unusually friendly...as usual.

"As well as I can be with a crew like that following me around." She thumbed at the group of men and women who had settled in for drinks, many looking like they hadn't slept - or at least, slept well - for quite a while. "I don't think I've had a moment to myself for the last thirty-six hours. "By the way, do I know you? Well, either way, I'm...."

Silver Alexander Wrote:

"S... S-Sakura-chan?!"

"Sakura-chan?"

There was a brief moment of silence as the woman tilted her head slightly. She knew the guy. She was positive of it. But then, how did he knoh yeah. The TV show. She never actually watched it, which was probably a bad thing, because she wasn't really sure how Rage and Sakura were being portrayed on those glowing boxes - but then, for someone who was so woefully inept about technology, she had found that she was pretty photogenic.

"Always good to meet a fan. I'll get you a signature later."

She had a hard time resiting the urge to tousle the guy's hair, but eventually thought better of it, instead giving him a firm pat on the shoulder.

It was about that time that the monk had started talking to the greater group again. She seemed to casually glance around the bar, keeping tabs on the rest of the staff that had walked in with her. She jumped in as soon as she could.

"At the risk of sounding self-centered, I know a thing or two about dodging people who are trying to watch." Leaning back in her seat, she folded her arms across her chest. "This isn't another one of those things where we have to prevent the end of the world, is it? I gotta tell you, between actually doing that and being on, I think, the third plot arc for it on the show? It's getting a little boring."

Aduven Kroww Wrote:

He wasn't paying much attention and was about to just sit down on the dock when Ryke made a noise and pointed suddenly out to sea, ooh'ing and ahh'ing. "Eh- hey whoa!" His eyes went wide and he tipped over, already slightly off balance due to almost-sitting-down.

"Ryyyyke!"

Ahaha.

Ryke afforded herself a good laugh after successfully tricking her teammate. Even better was the startled, accusing shouting of her name indicative that he in fact went over the edge just made her laugh harder, enough that she found herself almost doubling over with an arm supporting herself on a pole, the other clutching her gut.

Aduven Kroww Wrote:

As he fell off the pier and into the frigid water his hand snapped out, grabbing at Ryke's front. Just a few feet from the woman, he'd have plenty of shirt, and maybe a bit more, to grab and yank her down and into the water with him.

Unfortunately, her laughter was about to be a little short-lived because Connor wasn't interested in swimming by himself tonight.

Like something from a cheesy horror flick, her teammate's hand burst forth and managed to grab himself a good fist full of her shirt and jacket. Not good. Ryke couldn't stop it from happening, it was inevitable.

She scrambled to keep her grip on the pole but it was pretty futile at this point and she felt herself lose her balance before tumbling forward off the dock.

"AHSHI-"

-SPLASH-

Into the frigid water she went, the shock of the miserable temperature felt completely tore through her but fortunately the suddenness of falling in played into how quickly her body recovered from it.

Still, after she righted herself under the water and came up for air, she gasped and immediately started shouting.

"st IT'S ****** COLD! Damnitt CONNOR YOU JERK!" Spotting her blonde haired teammate, Ryke scrambled to climb his taller form in order to get out of the freezing water and get back onto the much drier dock as fast as she possibly could.

Despite the freezing, frigid water, and just having been yanked into it by her own teammate - Ryke could honestly say she was having a fairly good time. Her thoughts of course did fall back to the previous year's Heaven or Hell tournament, more precisely the preliminaries in which she had fought Colin in the Barton Fountain.

Had a whole year really passed since then? Damn.

The memory was brief, fleeting because Connor's flailing and sputtering between breaths as he struggled to remain above water broke the though pattern and once again firmly placed her back in the present day.

Aduven Kroww Wrote:

Ryke's efforts to get out of the water surprised him and as she clambered on top of her teammate, Connor spluttered and went under, treading water ferociously. "Wha- Ryke! Acuugh...!!"

Oh geez.

Ryke hated to laugh at Connor's predicament as she successfully used him to climb back onto dry land and practically half-drowned him in the process. It was funny! Horrible, but funny. She knew she was terrible sometimes. What can you do?

Fortunately though, any lingering guilt was chased away by his laughing and the very wet, very cold Ryke just rolled her eyes and immediately wrapped her arms as tight around her torso as she could manage. "Do-on't b-be a-a drama queen...and ge-getup here!"

She could hardly form a coherent sentence between the shivering and near teeth-chattering. Yes, it was that ******** cold.

Once Connor was back on the docks, she knew they had to get back to the hotel. While they were just outside the tavern, the least they would get in there were towels or hell, maybe not -even-. Besides, she wanted to get out of her sopping wet clothing as soon as she quick and the trek to the Hawk wasn't THAT long...

"C-cmon. Letsgo. I'm ******** fffreezing. Ugh."

--

[Insert however long it WILL take]

To the Crimson Hawk

For a moment, Tenkai regained his typical calm smile. It seemed as if the others were in agreement with him in terms of going somewhere a bit more secluded. There was no doubt a lot of information the two of them could share with each other.

Silver Alexander Wrote:

"AAAHH. Alright, I'm in. But where can we go? The whole area's probably gonna be pretty busy what with Heaven or Hell festivities gearing up..."

"Most of the activity is centered around the Crimson Hawk Hotel," replied Tenkai as he left a few gold pieces on the counter. "Aside from that, everything else is pretty much limited to the ground. We'll need to find someplace difficult to reach. With that in mind..."

The monk pushed off from his stool and onto his feet.

"...Follow me."

Tenkai headed toward the entrance of the Tavern, confident that the other three would be following behind him. As he passed the green-haired celebrity, the monk turned his head to her.

"Miss Sakura," he said, remembering the name Silver had used, "It would be good if you kept your crew members from following us. The last thing we need is to have this recorded."

The monk had faith that the spunky young woman had some creative way of dealing with her staff. Although most people would be hard pressed to follow the requests of someone they had only just met, Tenkai's tone of voice would sound somewhat reassuring. If the monk was anything, he definitely wasn't the bad guy.

With that, the monk passed through the exit and into Latent itself.

((I'm going to continue this post in the Latent thread, so that you guys can follow. Don't worry, it'll make perfect sense. Trust me. >>))

Vahn Fah Wrote:

"I'm open to suggestions."

After hearing the previous comment before as well, Yasuo tuned into the conversation even more so. He was focusing on the "where to" aspect now, as he still wanted to keep an eye on what these four were talking about. The shinobi turned more towards the table he was at, trying to come off as inconspicuous as possible. He didn't want to be caught by the warriors after all, for fear of them misunderstanding his notions and what not.

Silver Alexander Wrote:

"AAAHH. Alright, I'm in. But where can we go? The whole area's probably gonna be pretty busy what with Heaven or Hell festivities gearing up..."

The silver haired one seemed to agree with the movement as well, as did Vahn in earlier moments. Yasuo would take the last sip of his drink before turning his attention back on the group. Because of the noise created by the taverns patrons, it became increasingly hard to zero in on the subject of their conversation. If they moved outside it would definitely aid the shinobi in his information gathering, in exchange for the small crowds that gave him the cover he needed. It was time he put his skills to use.

Tenkai Matsumoto Wrote:

"Most of the activity is centered around the Crimson Hawk Hotel," replied Tenkai as he left a few gold pieces on the counter. "Aside from that, everything else is pretty much limited to the ground. We'll need to find someplace difficult to reach. With that in mind..."

The monk pushed off from his stool and onto his feet.

"...Follow me."

"Hm." the ninja would hum to himself on this.

After viewing the monks rise, Yasuo too would mimic the movement not long after. To keep himself continually under wraps, he'd pick up his glass and walk to the bar for good measure as the four made their ways outside. The empty glass would be placed upon the polished wood bar top, and before the tender could say anything the shinobi was on his way to the door. Sakura had just left, and he green hair would give the Iwa-nin a reference point as to where they were headed. With that, he casually walked out the door...

Outside the tavern, a small news crew was forming. Rumor had it that several previous and current high-profile Heaven or Hell combatants had been spotted around here, and so far the results were a bit disappointing. Word on the street was that several of them had just scattered, ruining any chance for a group interview.

"Pff."

Alicia leaned up against the news van, her legs crossed as they stretched towards the ground, with her tail twitching one way or another every few seconds. Just what she needed - another lost scoop. The ultra sensitive hearing of a cat didn't help when there were too many voices to focus it on. Maybe she should just get a drink instead....

"And who do you think you might be?" There was simply too much background noise to hear someone landing on the van. However, she was able to easily pick up on a voice right next to her - you didn't need supernatural hearing for that. She looked up inquisitively, though it was clear that "inquisitively" was the wrong word for the look that she was giving the stranger, based on her expression and tone.

"That's Channel 7 property! I hope you're ready to pay for repairs on this vehicle. I'll have you know that dents to this thing come out of my paycheck, and I don't think you want that on your conscience." If he didn't jump down right away, she'd continue down the same path of complaining, and breaking down how repairs to the van would take away from her food, entertainment, and rent budgets.

Alicia had seemed to produce a pencil in her left hand out of nowhere. Considering the majority of her outfit was a shirt and skirt that cast an air of anti-modesty, it really was a challenge to figure out where she had gotten it from. It's not like she could hide it behind her ear...

... could she?

Either way, she had already begun scribbling something on a notepad in her right hand, whispering the words as she wrote. "Jerk... in... cloak. Not important." She turned her large green eyes on the man. "Oh, you mean Lumina! I've been trying to get an interview with her for days, but..." she trailed off when the sting of the man's words finally settled in. "... you're just as interesting of a fellow and I'd love to know what your opinion on this year's fights are."

Nice save.

"Keeping things to the shadows is more my style..."

I never would have guessed.

Alicia's piercing stare narrowed slightly as her interviewee gave his opinion on fighting. Nope, still hadn't developed X-Ray vision. It was worth a shot, though she did jot down what he had said. "Well, admittedly, many of these combatants come here for various reasons. It could be fame, or fortune, perhaps they're looking for something in particular. I'm sure more than a few just feel an intense need to be the best, I suppose."

She tapped the tip of the pencil against her lower lip. "Let's get straight to the point - I know what people think about me, but I'm not as air-headed as people lead themselves on to believe. Why, exactly, are you here, sir? And if I may be so bold, is there a name I can call you by? A codename is fine, it just helps our viewers identify with someone if they have a name of some sort."

It was worth noting that when she said "viewers," her eyes flitted off to a man across the street with a particularly heavy-looking camera over his shoulder. He waved.

Alicia could have swore that she saw a tear form in midair when the cloaked man said "A Cloaked Man." It looked kinda green. It was probably nothing. "All right, Cloakie it is. You said you had a job to do... care to expound on that?" She continued to tap the end of the pencil on her lip - force of habit, most likely. Meanwhile, the camera operator took a look both ways (safety first) before crossing the street to get a better frame.

Wandering around was none other than Trey Stevens. Who you might ask? Well he was first tied in the EKS tournament a year or two back, and also was in the GTB tourney, but didn't get too far. Other than that, he wasn't very well known. He was recognized though, some what. Of course he was wearing his usual gear. That green leather jacket, which had black leather padding on the shoulders and elbows. His white shirt with the 'U.F' on the front. And all the way down to his black torn up jeans and green shoes. But something was new! He held a completely steel sledgehammer that rested on his right shoulder. A new addition, taking the place of his previous sledgehammer which had only a metal head and a wooden shaft. Yeah it was pretty awesome.

Trey was feeling a bit thirsty though, as he preferred to travel everywhere by foot. A gift and a curse you could say. Though he had only just arrived at Latent and hadn't even found a place to stay a beer sounded just perfect. And luckily just at that time he stopped in front of a tavern named "The Raven Head Tavern". Perfect. Strolling in the long haired guy found his way to the bar and ordered a pint.

"Wonderful..."

Opening the door to the Raven's Head and meandering over to a an empty table, Sey pushed her hood back and shook out her long locks before unzipping the plush coat to enjoy the warmth of the room.

"I think this is a nice place; is this a good table?" She asked her companion, placing her hand on the table next to her and looking to him for his opinion. It was close enough to the entrance if he wanted a quick getaway since he thought that bars were the nesting holes of mutants and other assorted scum of the earth; and Morgan was right about that, though it was for that exact same reason Sey found herself in bars. The scum of the earth are the kind of people that tend to get themselves injured for some reason or another. And more importantly, most were quite happy to subject themselves to her healing arts - and donated quite handsomely for her time.

She'd been training to be a healer since she was 5 years old and had seen a lot of blood and gore during her 23 years of existence, but that didn't mean that she couldn't be phased by it. Her heart broke a little to see Morgan's handsome face scarred in such a manner.

"Morgan..." The honorific was dropped as Sey slowly took a seat, her gray eyes holding nothing but sympathy and compassion. She had no pity for him; the man had his life and that was more then what many people who have seen the true horrors of bloodshed could say, but not only was it ingrained in the years of training but it was part of her personality to empathize with people. To go out of her way to shelter people and give them a moments solace from all harm.

"What have you been up to since we last saw each other?"

"I did leave. And when I finally came back it was all burning." Freeing herself from her jacket and slinging it over the back of her chair, Sey sighed and looked at Morgan with guilt ridden eyes.

"Do you ever feel like you're fighting a loosing battle sometimes? Like no matter what you do, you'll loose inevitably as though it was... It was ordained by God or something." She couldn't help but laugh inwardly at her ironic choice of words and the bitter humor made her smirk slightly.

"I guess time has been hard on us both." Sey said with a lilting laugh, reciprocating the reassuring squeeze before withdrawing her hand to sit back in her chair.

"I'm slowly turning into a grumpy old maid and you've been torn up by a meat grinder. You know, I can heal that." At the offer, the white mage perked up a bit, her bright gray eyes glinting with opportunity. Morgan had saved her life before; it was only proper that she'd do what she could to help him in return.

"I've gotten a lot better since the last time we ran into each other. Sadly, I've had many opportunities to practice."

"It's alright really. Like I said, I've gotten better at healing. Just a few moments and I'd be done and little worse for the wear at that. You don't have to worry about me." During her short stint as a paraplegic she learned the importance of having complete control of one's faculties and she didn't want Morgan thinking that he couldn't have that opportunity because of her own weaknesses.

"After the tournament? Oh, you know. The usual; I have a mission from God that I need to finish." She said nonchalantly as though she was joking; but Sey really wasn't, even if she wished she was.

"And you? I hope you're not staying around to see the tournament; I'd hate for you to see me get 'hammered' in the ring." Thrown around like a rag doll was more like it. It was one thing to know that most of her friends and clerics had seen the last year's broadcasts of the fights but its another to know that they were there, spectating from the sidelines. It was something she didn't want to know at all - fighting in a tournament situation was already something she was nervous about.

"The implant would have to be removed, but I can anesthetize you as long as you have no averse reactions to magic. Well, I can't really heal you if you have any of that - but I don't believe that's changed in the time we haven't seen each other, right?" She'd feel like the biggest douchebag in the world if she couldn't heal him. Dangling an opportunity like that in front of someone is a terrible form of torture.

"I can't guarantee that it'd be completely painless, but you'd have your eye back for sure." She smiled reassuringly at the hope on Morgan's face. This must be good deed of the evening #1.

His distracted drifting along the bustling boardwalk ended abruptly outside the Raven's Head. The young foreigner lifted the big brown jug labeled "XXX" in his left hand to eye level and gave it a lazy jiggle, frowning at all the air inside of it. The last of his gold had gone to the shipmaster weeks and weeks ago.

Jex thought for one fleeting moment to offer up one of the claws or feathers, each from beasts slain in life-or-death battles, in exchange for his jug being filled, but defiling his headress; disrespecting a proud beast and sullying his own honor; was far from worth it, no matter how much his jug wanted to be filled.

Plus, something about the intense, heated commerce told him that animal parts were not accepted as something valueable. Just as well- he could not put a price on his headress and the claws, teeth, and feathers it was adorned with.

So he sat outside, a few feet to the side of the entrace to the Raven's Head; one knee up in the air, the other laying on it's side; his naginata was between his legs, resting against the building and his empty jug was at his side. From within his black gi he produced an empty gold pouch and began to offer it up to strangers walking the board, asking with nonchalance, "Spare a gold piece?", "Gold, please?".

"What's to be gained by waiting?" the man asked her back, quite serious. Sitting upright during an operation of some sort would fairly minor compared to what he had endured. And it just never occured to him that a Bar, locations known for all sorts of brawls, explosions, gunfights, mutants, and chaos could ever mind something as simple as a little blood.

He raised the knife up to his face, just below the cybernetic implant. He gave Sey a soft smile, "I trust you."

With that he pressed down on the blade, puncturing his skin, slipping it underneath the metal as he started to saw and pry, crudely ripping out what had been somewhat carefully meshed into his body.

It was messy.

"AHH!"

Yelling as she scrambled to her feet and knocked her chair over, Sey stared open mouthed for a second as Morgan ripped out the implant, blood seeping over the skin of his cheek.

"Sweet Light, what the hell are you doing!?" She cried out in alarm, her chime like voice cutting through any conversation going on in the Tavern in the way that only a maiden's cry could. Knocking over the long package she had brought with her and ignoring the metallic clank that it made as it fell, Sey traversed the few steps to Morgan's side in a flash; her hands immediately prying the knife from his grip and stabbing it into the varnished wood table before Morgan could rip out the implant completely and possibly injure himself further.

"I thought you were going to wait for me to 'numb you up'! Falis' balls Morgan!" There was more alarm in her words then anger as she pressed her left hand over the pilot's forehead and began to overload his senses with her magic, her anxiety over removing the implant and stopping the bleeding forcing her to anesthetize him faster then normal. The amount of holy energy being shoved into his body from her hand was enough to make him feel quite nauseous and thankfully for her, they hadn't ordered anything already. By now, the press of her hand on his forehead would have numbed completely; the loss of feeling continuing to creep down from his head to his torso.

"Just because you trust me doesn't give you license to be stupid and reckless." She didn't care that she was scolding someone older then her; it didn't even sound like she was, what with her words coming out in a soothing tone despite their message as her training kicked in, her free hand fisting tightly as it glowed with holy light. A small sliver of glowing crystal peeked out from her clenched palm and as all feeling was robbed from Morgan's waist and up, the healer held the blade to the right of the incision he had made.

"Don't move." She commanded her patient, voice low with authority. And with the deft movements of a trained healer, Sey cut out the rest of the incision from Morgan's eye cavity with the sliver of light, her hands covered in his dark red blood.

a*****e Wrote:

"YOU TWO. GET OUT."

CH-CHK!

"NOW! 'En take ur bloody chunks 'n peices wiv 'yeh!"

"I'll go when I'm sure this retard won't bleed to death." Sey said lowly, her voice nearly a growl. Of all the goddamn positions to get into - she TOLD Morgan that the freaking owner would s**t a brick!

Sey Wrote:

"I'll go when I'm sure this retard won't bleed to death." Sey said lowly, her voice nearly a growl. Of all the goddamn positions to get into - she TOLD Morgan that the freaking owner would s**t a brick!

"B-but... his friggin' eye!"

He didn't know that the girl with the bleeder was a priestess with healing powers, all he knew was that some dude just lost an eye in his bar and people were starting to freak out.

"CALL AN AMBULANCE!" Screeched a lady sitting at the bar, who'd followed the aim of the shotgun to the table where a man was looking woozy and freshly without an eyeball. Sounds of disgust and dismay began to raise across the tavern.

A man in a business suit who'd just emerged from the bathroom, summoned early from the pot by the commotion, was rapidly pouding out the three digit number into his cell phone. Several other patrons stood, as if to take action, but were stilled by the bartender dropping his shotgun and franticly making his way out onto the floor, large rolls of paper towel under his arms.

Arcturus Highwind Wrote:

"You always take such good care of me," he murmured as Sey went about her impromptu operation.

Grinding her teeth as she bit back the flow of colorful words she'd picked up from hanging around people like James for too long, Sey dropped the bloody implant on the table and pressed the middle and index finger of her right hand into Morgan's eye socket and felt around for the remnants of the man's optic nerves, her fingers squelching in the bloody hole. Feeling a small lump that was the cluster of nerves, Sey furrowed her brows as she began to pray quietly, her left hand holding Morgan's head steady by grasping a fistful of his blue hair from behind.

"Father of Light, please heal this foolish man. Help me give him back his sight." As she called on her God, her hand glowed brightly like a star in the night; overpowering the faint lights of the Tavern's ambiance. The white mage was focused entirely on healing her patient and didn't pay attention to any of the craziness in the background; the calls for an ambulance and the good intentions of the bartender falling on her deaf ears. It was just her and her hand shoved in Morgan's head, slowly coaxing his body to create the tissues that make up his eye.

The bartender was matting paper towel down on the table where blood has spilled, less worried about the man getting eye-fingered and more worried about the sanitation of his tavern. He rapidly looked back and forth between Morgan and the table he was trying to keep clean. He also looked up everytime someone left, cursing this bloody business.

The suited man, the one recently off the john, approached the operating table and announced that he'd phoned the paramedics- sirens penetrated through the tavern's walls as he did so, and another anonymous patron came up to the table.

"Not sure y'need to," This one was a bit calmer than the rest, but still disgusted at the sight of the white-mages hand halfway inside Morgan's skull, "she's a white mage of the Falician order. A strong one, too, to be outside the temple."

The bartender shot the man a scornful look. Didn't change the fact that this was the wrong place for operations.

========

Jex Thoth decided to have a look inside the tavern. He stowed his coinpurse and hopped to his feet, waited a second for another person to flee the tavern, then popped inside with a lighthearted curiosity; his naginata shouldered and empty jug in hand.

"I- ...by the light of Ka." Wide eyed, he kept his distance from the operating table where some young girl was knuckle-deep inside the eye socket of a grim, dazed looking man who was strangely calm. The only other people in the bar, at this point, were three men around the operating table, talking in harsh tones.

Jex went unnoticed and, using great effort to not just stand and stare, began to look for the keeper. The sight of the impromptu operation and the incoming commotion of the ambulance was enough for Akelo- he wanted to fill his damn jug and be away from this. Fortunately, the patrons who'd fled left many coins. Nearly every table had three or four and after liberating each and everyone one of the lost coins, Akelo was confident that he'd be able to pay for his jug to be filled.

"Now I just..." He looked back over at the last table with people around it, now certain that one of the men, hopefully not the one being healed, was the bartender.

"The look on this guys face! He's obviously mad!"

Thoth forgot about his jug. Healed? His radiant yellow gaze centered on the side of the girl's head. Magic! A strange kind, too...

WOOOOOP!

The ambulance came to a stop- it parked behind the tavern, from the sounds of it. It couldn't drive on the boardwalk. It's arrival jolted Thoth back on track and he was barside, setting the tips he'd lifted from the tables and emptying his coinpurse on the bartop. He was sure it was enough.

"C-can I help you, sir?" A voice called from around a corner behind the bar- one of the waitresses. She must have been hiding from the ghastly sight out on the floor. Apparently, a dark blue skin, antlered foreigner was more inviting than a man who'd just popped out his own eyeball.

Jex waved the XXX jug up in the air. "Fill this?"

"I, sir-" She looked like she was about to protest, but gave in and came from her hiding place. "Your poison?"

He pointed to one of the liquor bottles at random, not being familiar with the selection at all.

That was something else though. Closing his eyes, it seemed to take almost more willpower than he still had within him. It was a bar, den of the mutant. While he was aware some left, he was also aware that somewhere out there was a shotgun.

He wanted to see his death coming, if it was.

In the end however, he did keep his eyes closed, both of them. He whispered out, "Don't let one of them get me," as he did so.

Liquid Lights Wrote:

The antlered foreigner was content to lean against the bar for the moment and watch the priestess work her strange magic.

After that moment, Thoth uncorked his newly filled jug and took a shwill; he grimaced a little at the taste.

The Great Horned Sage made his way out of the Tavern, longing for his own mead.

[To The Town of Latent]

"Why would I do that?" he asked quite seriously. Or at least as much of a normal tone as he could muster between his paranoia and the good mood he found himself in, because of or inspite of a small girl's hand buried in his bloody hole.

He could sense that it was coming towards an end. At the very least because it didn't feel like she was up to her elbow in him. And the pain wasn't quite as bad anymore. The smile crept back into his face as he idly wondered if it'd come back natural or not.

She had told him to keep his eyes closed. And he still did so even as she felt the priestess's hand remove itself. He was aware of her standing somewhere nearby though. He cocked his head to his left, pointing up towards his eye, "Good to go?"

He had been slashed and bashed up enough to know that when the doc told you to do something, he damned well ment for you to do so. And that if you didn't, you'd end up back in his hands all that much sooner.

His eyelid peeled up slowly, feeling a bit sticky. For a mometn everything seemed blurry and out of focus. But the new eye kicked in soon enough, and there was a little priestess, such a cheerful looking girl holding up a single finger towards him.

He couldn't help but laugh at it. And why not? He was in good spirits.

"This means a lot to me," he told her, quite somber now, "Really, I owe you. If there's anyway I can make it up to you, let me know."

It wasn't until he saw Sey wiping her hand off that it even occured to him what a mess he must be. He took the nearest cloth that he could, napkin or one of the towels the barman had been pulling over. He vigorously cleansed himself the best he could without a mirror, at times licking part of the cloth to get it a little damp as he wiped the ichor of his healing session off his face. He was quite careful with his new eye, it would be quite embarressing to poke out his own eye after he just got it back.

"I'm suddenly quite famished, what about you?"

He tossed the bloody cloth aside on the table, and he could feel his stomach rumbling. He reached out slowly for the knife that Sey had stabbed into the table, pulling it free carefully, tsking once at the large gash that she had left jabbing it in. No wonder the psycho barman seemed so distressed. It surely couldn't be the blood, he had to be used to that.

He pocketed the knife away once more. The man looked relaxed, happy, content. Not a single sign left that he had just gouged out his own eye if not for the bloody chunk of machinery that had been ripped out and was still laying out there.

"Go ahead, take it, probably worth some gold if you can pawn it off," he told Sey, remembering her little church was strapped for cash.

"It still amazes me the things that you people here get riled up about," Morgan muttered. He had watched someone immolate someone with their thoughts alone, and no one batted an eye. But a simple little cut and blood drove half the people out of a building.

He stood up slowly, holding onto his chair just incase there was some balance issue with the new eye. But nothing seemed to happen. Surefooted, he gave himself a small nod.

"Yes ma'am," he answered her. He pulled up his hood, bracing himself for the cold.

Old instincts kicked in, and he did manage to stick behind and hold the door open for the priestess as he exited the Raven's Head. The blast of cold air seemed to cut right through his relatively light hooded sweater, instantly driving the warmth out of his body.

"No clue. Haven't scouted it out yet," he answered Sey. He was still in the process of getting the lay of the land when fortune provided for this little encounter. He'd let Sey lead on, while he was more than willing to watch her back against the trecherous mutants.

A walking stiff had come from the outsides chilling weather into a bar of shouting drunks and surprises all over the place. Her legs just couldn't take much of it anymore, the muscles that had loosened up over time just went back into freeze mode when a man nearly headbutted her back out of the tavern.

If it hadn't been for the man wobbling and falling over on his own accord she would have just collapsed right then and there. Before anymore hubbub could happen she quickly made her way over to the counter, underage and overdressed she asked for a cherry coke quietly while handing over the gold coins she had left in her pocket.

"ANOTHER PINT!"

"MOTHER ********!" Allex cried out, jolting up in her seat as the muscle spasms went back to work. She hadn't realized who she was sitting next to, couldn't smell the drunk emitting from him. So now she was paying for it, the glass the bartender had meant for her to catch as he slid it down the counter completely missed and crashed over and off onto the floor.

"...That was my last piece of gold too." She sighed, dejectedly before shaking out the stiffening muscles once more. "Are you going to buy me another soda, or am I going to have to beat your mutts face in for the gold?" She asked rather rudely to her drunken friend while giving a hard and icy stare at the dog beneath him.

Allex had worn a green and black vest with a white with green striped thermal underneath, her horns had come poking out from under a green captains hat while her pants wear skin tight and black. Though not a fan of shoes she's worn grey converses to keep her feet warm and even a belt to keep her backside from showing off. The only weird thing about Allex was the tail that instead of coming from her tail bone, extended out from the back of her head, covered by long strands of off brown hair. Even her golden brown eyes with rectangular black irises stood out among the people she was around. And still ,she didn't remove her eyes from the dog befriended man.

"I'll eat you, dog." She growled right back, pointing her horns at Ash threateningly "I hear the Chinese make good food out of you...or was that cats..?" In her own state of mind she had ventured off for a minute staring blankly at the drunken man as if she were lost by his English language.

When speak of paying for another drink came up she snapped right back and gave the most friendly smile she could muster up, bull s**t or not. "If you're going to pay for my drink, pay for it. Don't flirt." Allex wasn't that young, she just wasn't old enough to drink, only by a year. "But thank you anyway." She had picked up the gold coin and offered it back to the bartender who looked as if he were about ready to pick up his little friend behind the counter and blow a few holes into her chest. "M'names Allex Jazz, Allex with two l's not one, and you are...?" By now she had picked up her drink, guzzling down the carbonated drink feeling the bubbles shoot right back up to form a rather loud burp.

" 'Cuse me." if one hadn't realized it by now, Allex wasn't a demon, though the horns spoke differently. She was of goat decent, unfortunately, she was a sioux sie sioux fainting goat.

"I'm a pretty good thief. " She smirked, not all to good at first impressions when it came to...well..anybody. "Tray, tray steeee-vans. Trey Stevens. Pleasure, of course." She had to keep her eyes on the counter if she stood a chance of not hurting the mans buzz by making faces here and there.

"Spectator or participator?" was her next question, to hell with formalities and all that, Allex was a sheep in wolves clothing, spouting off empty threats all while huffing and puffing her chest. "What team, what sort of paparazzi? Why did you bring a dog? And why are you here, drinking your life away when you should be with all the other stiff necks and money grubbing women in the banquet?"

It wasn't that she was interested, no, she was just making small talk until her soda was finished. It was her first time here, ever, and why she came was unknown even to her. "You single?"

"Even if I was participating, I wouldn't go to something like that. Getting dressed up around the people you'll be fighting later just doesn't make sense, unless you want to make fun of them for their lack of fashion later." She peered from behind a curtain of hair to look at the man who had now become welcomed company, even with his dog with such a blank face it almost seemed as if she were annoyed.

"I find it hard to believe that anyone can be single in this place, there isn't a single unattractive person around, it's like this place is really just a runway in disguise. Or gods and goddess of beauty fighting over who has the better feature. I'm not entirely sure, really." She shrugged in her montone voice before finishing off her soda and placing it back onto the counter.

"Though I guess it doesn't hurt since it gives you free room to flirt with whoever you come across." The amusement in her voice was showing through little by little until she came into eye contact with him. "Eh..." Looking away once again she continued to speak, trying to keep conversation flowing. "Don't be too upset about not making the cut in time, I hear this is a traditional thing that happens every year. So, theres always next year, like they say."

"Single." She stated bluntly, shrugging it off as nothing more than an inconvenience to herself and those around her. "Can't be bothered to be with one person when my sole purpose on this earth is to procreate." It was true, even at a young age of twenty Allex thought of sex to be nothing more than a job, and even then all she wanted was such, nothing more, nothing less.

She had to agree with him though, from home she had watched a few rounds during previous tournaments, blown away by the skill of some and the guts of others. She knew some faces by popularity and others by pure the pure awesomeness they gave off. She herself was a bit of a fan toward a woman by the name of Izzy, who sported an eye patch with that ruff and tumble look while she fought men bigger than herself, even going as far as imitating them down to the very pimple.

"I couldn't fight myself, honestly, wouldn't stand a chance with my condition, though I'm sure it would make for the funnies in tomorrows paper." another glance up was taken quickly before the curtain fell again. "So, Trey, what team are you rooting for?"

"If love were real we wouldn't die alone, don't you think? Since being alone is awfully...lonely?" Her grin was hidden behind that curtain though amusement showed fully in her voice.

While he spoke she looked away towards the door where drunks and people who were getting lucky tonight stumbled off and out. Elven like ears perked quickly at his words of kick boxing and teams, he'd struck her interest and finally brought her to look at him with those weirdly shaped irises. "Well it's not like I don't know how to defend myself, it's just in me to not be able to all that well." Her tone was that of someone who's nerves had been hit while her eyes remained emotionless. "I don't know who Glacier is..I only know of people, no teams. So I guess I would be rooting for the team whoever the drinking hot dog eater is on." was her answer, and by now, she had leaned toward Trey, inhaling the stale smell of beer that came with his words.

With no emotion at all, she stared at him, then the dog, then him again. "Want to go to my place and sleep off that buzz?" Was she teasing, offering, or just playing mean? It was hard to tell with Allex who barely bothered to look at anyone let alone offer anything. She waited for both his reaction and his answer while her tail flicked below the two of them, yanking on the dogs tail slyly.

"Who says you stand a cold chance in hell?" she replied, not missing one beat before standing to her feet to straighten out her clothing. "Unless you suffer from insomnia then I can see where you're going with this. " A small subtle smile escaped her as she turned her back to him to pick up a small black leather pouch she had 'dropped' earlier, from the sound that had come from it -it was easy to tell what was inside.

Digging her small hand into the bundle and pulling out a few pieces of gold Allex handed some off to the bartender and replaced the coin given to her earlier in front of Trey. "Thanks for the drink, if you can stand on your own and walk on your own, follow me, if not, here's a shoulder. When we get to my place you're taking a shower, and then it's off to bed. I have a spare, and the door locks, so don't worry, I won't be coming in to kiss you goodnight." she chuckled before leaning on the barstool to see if the man could stand let alone walk. "Oh, and the mutt can sleep outside. It's good for their immune system."

"Whatever." she replied empty like, watching him try to regain his composure. When he finally did, she nodded and soon frowned after "It's not that I don't like them, dogs just have a habit of barking for no reason, and even if ol' Ash isn't one of those types I know something'll provoke it to scare the living life out of me. And I don't take well to any sort of surprising or scare." She winced, watching him pick up the bag with extending pole coming from inside wondering if in only a few steps would he be crawling on the floor.

So, she stood in front of him, walking backwards with her hands held out palm facing him to catch in case of any mishaps.

"Ready when you are, Tray." with that she would lead the way home, show Trey his room and shower, and the dog, the back door.

"Patience is a virtue, mon ami" Came the sultry subtle accent a few feet behind The Other.

"I'm 'ere to tell you that 'e is on 'is way." Viviana Merquise flicked her silver curls over her shoulders and pulled up a seat next to the brown haired individual.

"Water, is that all you're 'aving to drink." She pursed her lips, "Well that won't do for me. I ought to order some whiskey. Are you sure I can't interest you in a snifter or two?"

Because his eyes were a solid color, it was difficult to say if the Other looked over in her direction or kept staring straight ahead. What Viviana would know was that she did feel his gaze on her, even though it hadn't moved one inch since her arrival.

" Patience is something I've come to enjoy. " A few moments would pass, then the Other turned in its chair, facing Viviana. "Tell me, why does the devil need you to announce his arrival? I'm in no rush and I don't presume to give that impression to my...master." Dead eyes searched Viviana's face even as the Other's continued to stay blank.

And then...speak of the devil. Pardon the pun.

"Vansin, you tasked me with aquiring the blood from certain individuals experiencing great fear. I called you here to tell you I've completed my task." There was no greeting, no standing and shaking the man's hand. The Other had called for a reason and like he had no time at all, he got straight to the point. All focus shifted to the devil, as if Viviana were not there at all.

Why was she here in the first place, the creature wondered. Vansin had to know the Other wasn't much of a conversationalist...or perhaps she took notes for him?

The Other stood and as when he straightened there wasn't a pale man standing before Vansin but a perfect copy of Connor Kroww. A unspoken reminder of the devil's promise to the Other.

It procured two crystal vials from a hidden pocket, or perhaps no pocket at all, and held them out to Vansin. Both contained a thick red liquid and were as unassuming as vials of blood could be. " Purely human, a rarity in this place."

"I will take whatever you find appropriate, Ms. Merquise." He said, smiling to her. As she walked away, his now rather somber face turned toward the remaining member of the Signet.

"Viviana Merquise is here because she is my second in command, Other. I do hope she is always treated with the respect due to her station." the fiend said calmly, noting the atmosphere he'd intruded upon. To find a creature that did not regard his lieutenant well was akin to finding the proverbial needle in the haystack.

That rarity was not lost on Vansin Du'Ver, but it was momentarily ignored.

Vansin gently plucked the vials from the Connor-esque Other's hand and held them between his eyes and light.

"Human indeed." He noted, a statement which conflicted with the disappointed look in his eyes, "But not satisfactory. I could perform the spell required to reveal the inadequate amount of fear in these samples, but it would only confirm what I can guess by the blood's consistency. Tell me," the fiend said, lowering the vials and looking at his subordinate, "How did you perform the extraction?"

Viviana walked back to the table where 'Connor' sat, she placed a glass of geikkekan down infront of him.

"Sake." She said simply with a slight inclination of her head. Then she turned and fetched her glass of whiskey before sitting herself down, one leg crossing over the other. Her sapphire gaze centered upon the Other and she watched him thoughtfully. It would be wrong to suggest her gaze was one of distrust, but caution was evident upon her features.

"Please, don't let me interrupt." She said nonchalntly, raising the rocks glass to her lips and taking a sip.

How had he missed this place the first time? He had searched high and low the previous week, examining every nook and cranny of Latent in the hopes of finding some clue. But in all that time, he hadn't once stumbled across this place. Perhaps Damion had just overlooked it in his haste, but whatever the case here it was, and the elemental suspected he might finally find what he was looking for.

He had dressed in plain clothes for this adventure, his only pair of loose blue jeans, sandals, and an open hawai'ian shirt so bright that it was a wonder he snuck anywhere at all. He attracted the eye as he entered the building, like a lightning bug in the dark, but only for amoment before whatever patrons of the bar likely turned back to their drinks. The fighter at his wrist wouldn't garner enough attention, Damion himself wasn't famous in the slightest.

He cut his way amongst the patrons like a shark amongst fish, making a beeline for the bar. Bartenders were a wealth of information according to the few movies he had seen on the Hawks cable network so it only made sense for him to go to the...well bar.

" Oi, Bartender."

One tanned hand lifted into the air, a flag in the sky for bartenders everywhere that someone or something wanted a drink. Damion leaned against the bar, ignoring the stools to either side of him. Better for him to be on his feet anyways.

" Do y'know a guy name Atma?"

Right to the chase, forget the drink for now, he wanted answers.

A bum made its way into the Tavern, followed by the rest of a stranger as she pushed open the door, her arms filled with books and scrolls.

"Stupid, worthless, cheap... this is what I get for sale shopping..." she muttered as she tossed her load on the nearest table, throwing a ripped satchel on the floor and stomping on it childishly.

"I NEED A SAMMICH." She yelled at no one in particular, her hands on her hips.

"It IS me! YAY!"

Green eyes looked up into Rage's face.

Then she stepped back out of his reach.

"I am glad my reputation seems to have preceded me, but I'll only be friends if you can find me a sandwich."

Then, ignoring Rage, she turned to rummage through her pile of books.

Elvi tried to scream, but, seeing as her mouth was otherwise occupied, all that emerged was a tiny "Mmmfff!"

Though she was momentarily distracted (I mean, who wouldn't be, don't judge), Elvi rallied herself and grabbed a helpfully large volume from the table behind Rage, getting in a possibly accidental exploratory butt brush before she heartily whacked Rage across the side of the head with the book.

"SIR!" Elvi wriggled in his grasp, but whether to escape or to entice is not for a lady to reveal. "Unhand me at ONCE. I demand it!"

She huffed, "Look, this kind of thing has happened before. If you look closely, I'm not really all that attractive. You're just distracted by..." Elvi colored slightly, "...my reputation as a scholar?" She pushed on his chest.

Well, I whacked this guy in the head AND yelled at him. Elvi thought, What next?

Elvi's green eyes narrowed as she glared at Rage mid-makeout. Fine. You asked for it.

Elvi threw her whole heart and soul into the kiss, and her rather large body mass (those things are heavy, guys) into Rage. She hooked her leg around his and pulled his feet out from under him, bracing herself on the table so she wouldn't be pulled down with him.

Elvi planted a foot square in the middle of Rage's chest.

"DON'T KISS A LADY WITHOUT HER PERMISSION." She panted.

Elvi huffed angrily. "Look. I can't have changed because I DON'T KNOW WHO YOU ARE. It's hard to recognize personal evolution if you've never met."

She folded her arms protectively and pushed down harder with her foot as she leaned over him and glared. "And get that pervy look off your face. I'm not even wearing a skirt."

Elvi eyed him warily and fingered the bracelet on her wrist. "I... I did have a rather... unfortunate accident... a few years back. Lost a few memories getting..." Elvi colored. "...something important."

She slowly moved her foot and stepped back, but didn't offer Rage a hand. "All the signs seemed to point to something back here in some sort of drinking establishment... maybe..." She shook her head. "No, this isn't the right one. I know it isn't. The right one..." Elvi scratched at a new lighter streak in her hair on her temple. "...it burned..."

Elvi looked at the ring in her hand, then back into Rage's brown eyes, then back at the ring, then back... well, you get the idea. The point is, she was confused.

"I..." She pressed the ring back into his hand and avoided his gaze. She wiped at her eyes with the back of her other hand and shook her head vehemently. The action seemed to shake her back into her normal self. "I can't believe I am saying this, but I can't take this free piece of shiny, expensive jewelry."

She turned away. "I don't doubt your sincerity, but there are complications."

The Raven's Head had seen its fair share of people come and go. This was its year... maybe it was the installation of the large television and discounted (if not free) drinks and food for combatants, but the Raven's Head had become a new hotspot of sorts, as long as one could deal with the atmosphere.

D' was alright with that... she'd been around tough people for the relevant part of her life, so a few burly guys calling each other out of their names, and laughing about it. Besides, the main barkeep was said to have a mean left hook and meaner right finger trigger... one that apparently wasn't needed because the Tavern, while it had its reputation for toughness, wasn't one that included the keep's propensity for shooting people.

She figured that with her few Suits, they'd all be fight. It might've been a bit odd, these seven men and women walking into the place with their nice and neat pinstripe skirts, pants, shirts, jackets... spatted shoes... and even someone with a pimp cane... but the people who turned around at them likely have seen stranger and just got back to their conversations.

"Let's go over to those tables there."

D' motioned to her head to an open space off to the left, before she, Seung Kim, and the others moved along to take up residence. The other two women immediately excused themselves to the restroom, while the remaining five sat down. Seung stuck close to her boss, leaning back slightly in the chair.

"THE FOODENING IS NOW!"

"S--stop that..."