________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

" You talk.. Funny. " Squinted the woman, the comment almost child-like in manner. This wasn't a joke, as it was more of Martha not knowing how to keep her inner thoughts, inner. Anath had a peculiar way of speaking, Something the outlaw assumed anyone could see. She spoke like.. Like royalty, almost. " I get what yer sayin' though.. This world is a cruel place to live in, 'specially for the youngin's I've experienced first hand what .. The cruel can do to the unfortunate. " Thin brows knitted tight together, eyes glaring down at the appendage stretched out towards her. " Er.. " The words which were to follow would only cause that look of confusion to deepen. A spirit? What does she mean spirit? Honor? Martha was far from honorable.. " Listen, ma'am.. I ain't the brightest of people, but I doubt any sane person would understand whatever the fuck you just said.. " Eyes went upwards, to stare at the ruby-eye'd " spirit "

The bartender made his rounds then returned to Czeslc shortly after. It seemed the bartender was still off-put by the request. Holding a short tequila in one hand, a plate of raw chicken in the other, and a face of very mixed thoughts, he approached the seated man.

"Here's the tequila..." The young voice spoke, the glass clinking as it was set down before him. "....And...here's the...raw..chicken? For you sir..." The lad struggled to finish the sentence. He couldn't even make eye contact as he set the plate before the old man. It seemed if he did he would break into laughter.

"Thank you." And with that he slid a bill over to cover plus tip. The young bartender slid the money toward himself to collect it while still looking away. "Yeah.. Yes. Thank you. Let me know anything else." The young bartender re-grounded himself and his professionalism as he reminded himself that he was a busy bartender. He walked away.

Czelsc watched the man walk away. It was an obvious stare. He just felt like watching the guy. Wondering what he thought about their entire interaction.

He wasn't a mean man. He wasn't upset nor rude. He was a quiet man who lacked enough socialization. Some people are designed to function better this way.

Czeslc looked down to the tequila and relieved a hidden smile. It had been a very long time since sipping his favorite vice. He treated it as a reward or as a end all. Alcoholism was not a district he visited.

He looked down to his left side, the side facing the wall. Within his dressings was a hidden box. A black box with silver metal to hold it together. It was roughly 12 inches across and 14 inches long. Definitely not something that would be hidden too easily had it not seemed like some packed items he had along. This box had a latch on it, which Czelsc now hinged to open.

With his left hand he touched the raw chicken. It had been stored cold so although he'd prefer room temperature, this would suffice. He pinched a part of the chicken off with the one hand and reached down to the box, opening the small door with his clean hand. Some little sounds of commotion scurried as he handed over the small bit of meat which was eagerly taken away from him.

"There you go...Good girl..." he whispered to the box.

He closed the door for safety then looked back up to the bar. With his clean right hand he reached for the tequila, bringing to his mouth and sipping some back. He wasn't a shooter; he liked to enjoy it. Draw it out. Once he took a little bit he set it back down, scanning the area to see if anyone caught him handing raw chicken to himself and talking to what seemed like nothing.

Fiona Flamebeard

@Chris488

Fiona had not missed the woman and child enter and take a seat at the bar not far from her. Nor had she missed the gentleman who had come in taken a seat at the far end of the bar. Her eyes wandered around lightly gliding over her fellow patrons. She felt that familiar warmth from her goddess as her prayer was acknowledged. Fiona felt the last of her tension slide away. It had been a long few weeks. She had earned an evening of rest and company in this fine tavern.

Before she knew it there was a young woman asking to join her before slipping onto a barstool between her and the woman with the her daughter. She was a good deal taller than Fiona. Fiona was only 4 foot tall standing. She was a foot and half shorter than the woman next ot her. Fiona smiled happily and nodded. "Please suit yourself. Breanne's blessing be upon thee. I hope your travels to this fine establishment were without troubles." Fiona took another generous pull from the bottle. She was doing her best to empty it.

---

She wove her spells, and awoke with the world anew as she stood and seated herself again across the tavern. She could see herself speaking with people spread throughout her surroundings, and she smiled again. Small moments, so melodic. Memories. Song. The stigma seared her skin, burning brands that showed she had been broken, but perhaps she could become complete again...

Another benefit of being a divine being - she could be at a myriad of sites simultaneously. Seated there. Standing there. Solitary or socializing. Inside or outside the tavern. There were so many things to see, and those to speak with...

@LadyAmber

Anath Homura watched while the woman drank. She could not consume such concepts... but she could see how humans and the myriad of mortal species could partake and attained pleasure. She graciously bowed her head as she received a blessing from the faithful servant of Breanne, and shared a smile as her gentle gaze arose.

"The blessing of Homura be bestowed upon you, though I am tired and have little axioms left. My travels were troubled, but I thank you for your kindness. Hmm... were your travels without trouble then?"

@Miss Reiya

She was strange. Always aloof and inevitably isolated after an awkward anxiety-inducing interaction. She would still step forward, small and afraid, to try and talk to those that... had Honor in their hearts.

Anath Homura glanced at Annie, and gestured towards Martha with mirth in the almost mesmerizing motion. "Miss Dunn seems to be bemused by my antics, miss Annie. Help me to help her understand, please. You see the Honor in her heart too, yes?" The ruby-red eye of the goddess glittered akin to a radiant gemstone, as she spoke to the child.

@Czelsc

She stared at the man. She had seen him and his hand, all actions, and her gaze seemed glued to him. She remained seated upon her regal throne where she sat in solitude, and Anath Homura slowly smiled - showing simple and sincere appreciation for the act he attempted to hide.

@Duckie

She stood beside the stranger that slept outside the tavern. Anath Homura wondered whether she should interrupt the slumber of this traveler, as dreams were a delicate truth. The goddess would watch over her, akin to a sacred sentinel standing vigil throughout the night, and she would be there when the woman woke too.

Soon she sang softly, safe and serene. Her voice echoing with ethereal euphonious visions.

@Aeon Ingenuity

"I welcome you... would you be seated with me?" Anath Homura asked, an empty barstool beside her, as Zafira strode by. She gestured with genial grace, and gave a small smile. Where Zafira was viewed as a warrior with her attire and acute visage, Anath Homura appeared an aristocrat, adorned in silk and sweet scented aromas - though strange too. The white-rose which sprouted from her second eye socket slightly swayed and shimmered softly.

"My bark... is far worse than my bite." She said, cheeks subtly stained with crimson after she had showed her teeth to add to her attempt at humor. Perhaps she should have stayed silent...

Carrying her drink with her, Zafira heard a woman’s voice catch her as she passed by a barstool near a man feeding a box. Pausing in midstep, she looked at the woman who had quite the energy to her, the spellbinding vibe that flowed from her was immense. It was amazing how the woman projected herself all over the tavern, holding a multitude of conversations at once.

Stepping forward to the empty barstool, the horn made cup graced the dark wood of the bar top once more. Silence stood on her face as she joined the woman who welcomed Zafira to join her, a look of contemplation sat on her face as she read the woman carefully. In all her years walking the crust of this planet, this was one of the most interesting looking beings she had come into contact with, or maybe it was simply the white rose that sprouted from her second eye.

“Thank you for your kindness, I would love to sit with you, stranger. “ In one full smooth movement Zafira had seated herself with the woman who then continued to joke that her bark was far worse than her bite. Smirking at the idiom the woman chose to use, Zafira finally brought the horn into the cool folds of her fingers. Lifting the rum to her lips was pure bliss in her mind, the touch of the dark liquid to her tongue exploded like fireworks in her mouth. The sense of taste to a vampire was unlike any other being, she could taste every ingredient put into creating the rum down to the very wood the barrel the rum fermented in.

Holding the rum a moment longer on her tongue, she finally allowed the dark liquid to fall down her throat. Setting the cup at rest on the bar top, she turned to her new found companion. “Hello, let me introduce myself, so I am not a stranger any longer. I am Zafira Hawkthorne.”

@chris488

Corbin watched the vampyress flee from the tavern through a scornful glare. How dare she dismiss him so? That vile wretched...his fuming anger drove his hand over the pendant he wore around his neck. The pendant that housed the essence of a winged demon that would obey his every command until the day he set it free...if that day were to ever pass. The pendant began to turn black at the edges then stopped. His apprehension consumed him. If he sent his minion after the bitch who didn't even have the courtesy to introduce herself before completely dismissing him, as if a chance encounter with another of their kind wasn't a big deal, then he'd be left flightless for the time being. His rage nearly got the better of him as the edges of the pendant began turning black once more, his eyes staring venomous daggers at the threshold in which she had just passed through. Damn the wings...she would pay for her transgressions, she couldn't get too far and...

How did he not sense it sooner? The hand that he held over the pendant dropped to his side. The further the unnamed vampyre got from him the clearer the remaining patrons of the tavern became. By this point he had returned to hiding behind the bar from the mage who was looking for him, but the guard found no luck here and had just left. Corbin stood up and couldn't believe what he was sensing...it couldn't be...yet another vampyre? Two others of his kind in the same place on the same night? After having gone over a century believing he was the last of his kind? It wasn't as though he'd hidden away for all this time...he had traveled extensively, even beyond the material plane. He'd taken multiple pilgrimages to other planes of existence in search of answers and meaning and never so much as heard a whisper of the existence of his kind here or elsewhere.

Corbin zoned in on the other vampyre. This one was also female, and compared to the one that had so easily dismissed him...he felt his blood begin to boil at the thought...this one seemed more...to his liking. Whereas the one he'd met first radiated femininity and beauty, this other one seemed as if she'd enjoy soaking a battlefield with blood much like himself. She appeared in every way to be a warrior of some sort, more aggressive and in tune with what she was, whereas the other one rejected the blood he had so generously offered. Corbin found himself smiling at the potential, but reminded himself that hope was for the weak, tempering his expectations as he approached the silver haired vampyress.

Her golden eyes, much like his own, pierced the dim lighting of the tavern and filled him with excitement. The strange rude creature with the flower sticking out of an eye socket was seated at the bar with her...Corbin groaned at the misfortune that he would yet again have to interact with the thing that spoke as though it had never lived a day on this planet. Rolling his eyes and deciding he didn't care, Corbin took a seat at the bar with the two women. He offered the flower-eyed woman a knowing nod and turned his attention unto the vampyress. Still sipping his chalice of blood, Corbin met her golden orbs with his own. "I haven't seen another of our kind in over a century and now I've come face to face with two in one night..." Corbin said bluntly. He turned to regard the flower lady. "Does this have something to do with you then?" He wore half a smirk across his face when he turned back to the as of yet unnamed vampyress. "The name's Corbin..." He said to her as he held his chalice up in toast. "What's your poison this evening?"

@aeon ingenuity
@chris488

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Attention was briefly taken away from her glistening toys, and onto the pair as Martha began expressing her confusion. just as annie opened her mouth to scold the woman about cursing, Anath addressed her, causing the young girl to tilt her head to the side and smile. " 'Course I see it. Don't matter how many times you inform her on the.. Honor though, she'll always deny bein' a good person at heart. " An amused annie turned a grin upwards at Martha. After that, she was back to her toys, now basically tuning the others out.

" Still not sure what Honor you could possibly see.. If you could really sense anythin' within me, you'd know all the things I've done. And that I am far from Honorable.. " There seemed to be a solemn tone in which this was spoken. However, that was replaced by an amused one, as she leaned back in her stool, using one arm to prop herself up, chin cupped within the palm of said arm. " I wanna know though.. What made you believe I'm honorable? Ya think every woman travellin' around with a kid has a Honor-filled heart? " Half-scoffed, half-laughed the woman, lips quirking into a smile.

---

@Blesses Blight

She was swift, as she unclasped the amulet around her neck and abruptly appeared afore the terrified Gabriela. She held her hand out; offering the ornate and otherworldly pendant to attempt to atone for her aloof façade and abrasive attitude... and to try to help with the least-last-lingering amount of time she had.

"My daughters gave me this gift despite my many sins, Gabriela. I give it to you, and perhaps you shall save yourself. I will pray for you, daughter of darkness, whether you accept or refuse my eleēmosunē." Anath Homura murmured, her words woven with both blessings and ancient curses.

A question? A quest. A journey. Why ask where she was coming from, when she asked herself where she was going?

@Aeon Ingenuity@Crimson Crusade

"Zafira - you have a powerful name. I am afraid I do not recognize Hawkthorne though... Apologies." Anath Homura replied, retaining a small amount of dignity after her silly display. She showed a small smile, as she held up a hand and summoned a collection of seeds upon her upraised palm.

"Where I come from, we share gifts to celebrate finding companions, hmm - when strangers can become friends. These are seeds for propagating hawthorns. A long time ago, I wished to grow a garden." She said softly, her voice heard solely by the heightened senses of a vampire. Each and every sound she shaped and sculpted as she spoke was akin to a spellbinding symphony - her shape swaying to an unheard song set side by side with her wondrous serenity.

"I believe both life and death could learn to live and die beside one another in a beautiful dance, do you agree?"

Corbin nodded at her as well... she almost shivered with woeful sorrow. This man had known hatred, and it hurt her heart. She stayed silent, periodically peering at him. The Paradox of pain and pleasure. Hedonistic horror.

@Miss Reiya

"A child can see clearly the truth, yet you think I would be blind? I hear the honor in your heart like a melody for I am Homura, the moon-maiden of honor. An ancient alias, from aeons ago, almost abandoned, although I still hold some strength and sense. You also have a soothing smile, and such is a sign of sincerity." Anath Homura answered, aware of all the crimes committed by the Calamity, and yet absolving her.

She shifted her attention to Annie again. "I have a daughter like you, dear. She is also smart and sincere, though too aloof at times. She has my mannerisms, haughtiness, and anger... A prim and proper princess ready to raze her kingdom to defy the divine that would weave her fate." As she spoke, one of the toys began to glow brightly - a small and pink doll dressed in the prettiest of finery. The toy became belligerent, and stared away from the summoner with scorn.

Then the toy spoke suddenly: "Hmph! Anath Homura is a liar. The Divine seek to deceive you. My mother murdered me."

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

" Well, she's.. Not aware of certain things. Things about me. Of course a kid would think their mother is some sorta saint, wouldn't you? Even if she were aware, it's not like she'd go around admittin' her mother wasn't the ideal person to have 'round kids. " These words were muttered in a hushed tone, as to not alert Annie to their conversation. It's true, the child wasn't aware of her mothers.. Career, so it's not unbelievable that she'd see honor. " A soothin' smile, huh? " There was a faint blush that'd appear on the outlaws cheeks, though it would soon disappear at the realization of who this woman really was. " Moon-maiden of honor.. Never heard of you, but.. I've had some run-ins with mythic beings, so it's not.. Totally unbelievable. " Was there still some part of her that thought it was a lie? Of course! Martha was a sceptic. As the deity turned her attention to annie, so too would the redhead.

" Oooaaahh, " Exclaimed the child, eyes lighting up with excitement at the word ' princess. ' " A princess!! See, mama? I told you they're real! " Eyes shot to martha, who stayed quiet. It seemed the pair had already discussed the legitimacy of certain fairy tales. Now, princess-like figures weren't all that rare where she was from. Lots of wealth figures were considered like royalty, but not the sort of royalty Annie imagined. Princesses kept in towards by a dragon, Kings that sat atop a throne of gold. That sort of thing. The excitement beaming on the childs face shifted into an expression of.. Worry, fear, and overall concern. Firstly, confusion because the toy could talk. Secondly, the toy spoke of.. Murder. Not something Annie was too keen on hearing. " Uh.. What? What does it mean? Mama.. " The frowning child scooched closer to Martha, giving the deity a distrusting look.

Giving the child a tiny nod and a smile, Martha would continue on listening to the pair. While she'd normally give Annie a more realistic view on the situation, it was best to let her enjoy herself. Not often she's around someone like Anath. That smile was soon to falter. Eyes shot downwards towards the toy, listening as it spoke, then flickered to Anath, brows knitting close together in a half-angered, half-confused expression. " The hell does it mean by that? " An arm shot around Annie, pulling the girl closer towards her chest for comfort and protection.

@Chris488



Fiona dipped her head in respectful acknowledgement of the blessing offered in return. She didn’t come across that often. She had never heard of a deity named Homura. However, she as a dwarf and was not particularly knowledgeable about other races gods and goddesses. She took another long pull from the bottle before letting out a deep sigh.

“I am grateful to have found this tavern. My travels were fraught with their own pitfalls.”

She took another drink before launching into her tale.

“I was performing my duties to my goddess by traveling to the smaller dwarven villages. During the early planting season, her priestesses are traveling to bless crops for a bountiful harvest and the residents with fertility. Then during the harvest season, we come back through and collect the goddesses share for the temple.”

She took another pull off the bottle and her cheeks were slowly gaining some reddish color. She gets more animated as she tells her tale. Her hands gestures are becoming bigger and wilder.

“I was traveling along the Gnoll River towards the next village when I was caught out by a surprise spring thunderstorm. The storm caused the river to jump its banks. That forced me to travel away from the river. I was almost caught in the flooding. I finally made it high enough in some foothills and found a cave to ride out the storm.”

She took a deep breath before taking another pull on the bottle.

“The next morning I climbed to the top of the hill and the flood had wiped out the bridge. I had to find a new place to cross the river. It is not like dwarves can swim you know. We just sink, like rocks. Water is not our friends.”

She shook her head sadly before taking yet another drink.

“The next few days were creepy forests filled with mists. I was completely turned around. I have never seen terrain like that before. Then I found this tavern. I have no clue where I am.”

She hiccupped and covered her mouth as she laughed.

“Sorry about that. Can you tell me where I am or how to get back to the dwarven lands?”

---

@Miss Reiya

"Will you answer or avoid the question? The veneer of valor to veil your cowardice, mother? What's wrong with you?" The toy continued, criticizing its creator in a cruel tone while she stood silent and still. Anath Homura had averted her gaze when her work began to talk, and a tear trailed along the contours of her cheek, falling from her face to the floor. The other toys, genial and glistening, consisting of commoners and heroes, children and elders, warriors and healers, animals and plants too, all content to be the playthings of children while the pink toy complained.

"I apologize... I shall step away." Anath Homura said softly, turning to stride towards the secluded throne she came from. Forlorn. Foolish. Fearful. Forsaken. The set of small toys lingered - the talkative one laying itself down and losing its pink light - then suddenly transforming into a colorful peacock feather.

@Duckie

Anath Homura smiled after her song had come to a conclusion, and the one whom called herself Calliope had awakened. Her hand clasped the scarred hand of the fey-tiefling, helping her up from the frigid ground, and suffusing her with warmth.

"I am Anath Homura. A pleasure to meet you, Calliope. Hmm... there is food to be found in the tavern there." The genial goddess said, gesturing to the structure that stood nearby. Her single ruby-red eye stared at the chain that clung to the fey-tiefling, and graceful fury burned brightly in her fiery gaze.

"Shall we seek some solace within shelter?" She asked, and as she spoke, echoes of her ethereal song still sounded throughout their surroundings, faintly heard. A soothing, yet forlorn, serenade that tingled the senses.

@LadyAmber

The attention of Anath Homura was always an arcane sensation as her astute aura suffused the storyteller. As Fiona spoke, animated with alcohol, Anath Homura had heard and accompanied the drinking dwarf through the tales of her travels - experiencing each and every encounter she described.

She stayed silent and smiled as she immersed herself in imagination and intoxicating diegesis with the dwarf. Afterwards, she shared a serene look and leaned away with languid wonder. "Your laughter is like liquid light, servant of Breanne. Hmm... you have come to the tavern that has a myriad of names, and no names at all. The path to the dwarven lands lies in the past - simply stride through the door you came through. Though have you a desire in your heart that drink has yet to quench?" Anath Homura asked as she tilted towards Fiona, and peered at the priestess with a white-rose and solitary eye, piercing and sorrowful.

Looking at the palm filled hand of Anath, she gratefully took the seeds from her new friend. Looking at them closely in her own palm, she smiled. “No need for apologies for not knowing my family name, it is very old and probably forgotten.” Turning in time to see Corbin sliding in next to her, his statement of meeting yet another vampire twice in one night. It must have been truly astonishing to him, as it wasn’t to her. Although it wasn’t that rare to her, Zafira often kept to herself on purpose. Time to time she would find fledglings from other nests, vampires turned by older vampires looking to grow families or covens.

“Thank you Anath, I appreciate the gesture. I agree, life needs death, and vice versa.. It is how the cycle continues.” Carefully placing the seeds into a small pouch tied to her side, she pulled the string closing it tightly.

Turning ever so slightly towards Corbin studying him a moment, she answered him. “I partake in rum.” She couldn’t say it had much to do with her new friend or it was just mere coincidence that Corbin had run into two other vampires this evening. Oh yes, Zafira was clearly aware of them when she had entered the tavern, but mingling with her own kind was low on her totem pole of things to do. She had always found many of her kind so archaic, and stuck in their past.

Lifting her cup to her lips once more, the fireworks presented to her by the rum touching her tongue sparked again. Moving the liquid around in her mouth carefully allowing it to touch every taste bud, she swallowed. “Anath, what brings you to a place like this? “

@chris488
@Crimson Crusade

^{@ProxyInc and @Dark Cloud and the delayed post}

🐍
<< Alcoholic Establishment >> The Game is Afoot!

As Ophelia, "Wench" leaned over her shoulder to gauge the wild haired man's interpretation -- she would likely come to a startle. Why? Because in reaction, he had turned his head to face her, eyes... well his eyelids were drooped a bit. Still, it was a reaction time both impressive and excessive, as though he couldn't let someone face him without staring them down. Inappropriate spacing, inappropriate boundaries -- and yet none of that seemed to phase the already drunken man wearing his snake embroidered clothing.

Drank fast.. and drunk fast. A lightweight.

His words came out without slurring, pompous tone melting away to an unusually open hearty gravel in the words that flowed out of him: "Of course cards can predict the future. Only an imbecile would doubt the capabilities of magic. That's not important. Listen. You're armed. I'm going to level with you." Squinting just a moment to regain his focus, as though Washed Up wasn't there and it was only the two of them alone in this little tavern, his teeth and tongue moved independent of each other with such articulation: "I'm pretty sure the owners of this establishment were murdered, and that we are in a different space and time than where we began. The two may or may not be related. That's not important. What is, is we need to shake the place down. There's no way this old man would be allowed to do half of what he's done otherwise. It's simple deduction. Look at him."

Right hand gesturing erratically at Krin, his left defiantly pointed at the floor to punctuate his statements while his voice momentarily traced off before regaining strength. "Two feet in the grave. Pitiful, I'll deal with that later. Soon more'll realize it's free reign here and then it'll be anarchy. Got to crush the dissidents while they don't know we know. Deal those future telling cards, that'll give us quite an advantage in our approach." His breath besides the burn of alcohol laced within was hot yet, of one whom had upper echelon hygiene for his region at least.

Striking while the iron was hot, it was a stroke of pure luck that the street urchin harlot was in fact a prophet with diving cards. He didn't expect that. But it was quite opportune. If she could give him the drop on these... what would they even be. Thieves? No, to call them thieves implies theft is the primary goal when clearly they desire to use this establishment as honey for springing the trap; these monsters, then she was of paramount use. And the old beast could, while clearly a racial supremacist that needed to be beaten to a pulp, redeem himself via becoming a meat wall for imminent harm. Fortuitous for them all. It wasn't often you got a chance to redeem your honor like that!

But if it was the opposite. If she was perhaps a manipulator of fate, a participant in this dark affair.. then Omi had them both right where he wanted them.

Soon.

Either way, all too soon, it'd be time to gorge himself on blood until he vomited. Metaphorically of course, he was still cross the faux bartending thief didn't search the back for baked goods and pastries.

@Chris488



Fiona tipped the bottle back and drank greedily after finishing her tale. Fiona stroked her long red beard as Anath Homura answered her question about where she was.

"Your laughter is like liquid light, servant of Breanne. Hmm... you have come to the tavern that has a myriad of names, and no names at all. The path to the dwarven lands lies in the past - simply stride through the door you came through. Though have you a desire in your heart that drink has yet to quench?"

She sighed unhappily as she felt no closer to finding her way home than when she walked into the tavern. Her brow furled in confusion at the woman's question. "I have no idea what you are asking me. Drink is my greatest desire other than finding my way home once more." She set the bottle down with a heavy thunk. It was empty.

She didn't wait for the bartender. They didn't help her before. She climbed back over the bar and hopped down on the other side. She swayed just a little as she landed on her feet. She dropped a few more coins in the tip jar. She then began to peruse the bottles she could reach. She pulled a black dusty bottle off the shelf close to the floor. Again she couldn't read the label on it. She uncorked it and took a whiff. It was obviously extremely potent alcohol with licorce scented overtones. She smiled to herself. This ought to do the trick. If she had ever been in a situation where she deserved to get drunk. This was it!

She had no clue she had pulled a bottle typically served to orcs and goblins. She set the bottle on top of the bar like she had before. She started to jump up to climb over when she caught sight of the woman. "My apologies Miss. Do you need or want anything while I am over here?" She gave a warm smile to the woman awaiting her answer.

Somewhere, just outside the tavern...

She had the presence of mind to grab the bottle of vodka round the neck just as she side-stepped around Corbin in her attempt to flee the suddenly uncomfortable situation. He didn’t stop her, though a glance over her shoulder and a look at his face, just as she rounded the corner of the bar to the back door, told her everything she needed to know about his supposed “good guy” act. He looked like he could barely contain his anger, as if she had delivered a blow to his ego that could never be forgiven. And all for what -- because she refused to drink with him or to sit down and chat?

The audacity of his entitlement carried her through the backrooms of the tavern on a dark mist of frustration. A heady feeling floated through her veins, up through her blood, and into her brain, causing a heady sensation that was reminiscent of a runner's high, which supported her just beyond the threshold of the back exist and out into the crisp, cold, night air.

Back outside…

There was a moment of disappointment. With the bottle hanging at her side, clutched in a halfhearted grip, and her lashes already thick with drew-drops gathered from the fog, she stood there pondering at the failure of her convictions. She was supposed to have marched right back out to Roen, to face her destiny once and for all -- and here she was, right back where she started.

“Long live the queen,” she said quietly to the night in a mocking tone, her free hand reaching up to wipe away the gathered droplets on her brows and lashes, drawing them away, until they rolled down her cheeks like tears. And then, drying them off with the back of her hand.

She didn’t care who came after her -- Corbin, wanting to reclaim his wounded honor, or Anath Homura wanting to restore her own damaged honor. Whatever the case, Gabriela would deal with them. Her fingertips brushed along the handle of a small dagger, strapped along the left side of her rib cage, inside her blouse. Yes, it was still in place along with the other three hidden upon her person in strategic positions.

Down she went, walking along the dirt path -- away from the tavern and toward the sweet smell of fresh water. The night was cold, and it felt all the more frigid as she left the warm glow of the tavern lights behind her. Deeper into the dark of the night and the silver-white light of the full moon. Along a clearly marked path that was obviously used during the daylight hours and when the weather was favorable by the tavern patrons to enjoy the lakeside for recreational use. However, there was no one out tonight, save for the creatures of the night, and even they turned to flee from the monster that walked amongst them tonight.

And so Gabriela was left alone.

The mist, the rain, and the ugliness from before had lifted or had grown heavy enough to be sticking low to the ground. The heavens had opened up, and the night sky was a display of celestial bodies that mocked her with a dazzling arrangement of constellations that indicated a hundred directions, but not a single one that she recognized. Inside, she had heard someone comment about how the tavern was some sort of magic and that the surrounding lands could somehow accommodate whatever the needs of each individual person. Made sense, it was always night for her. And yet, the stars that she so desperately wanted to see -- the ones that would point to the existence of the home that she remembered -- were beyond the scope of magic. Perhaps because they were long dead now.

The thought made her sit on the sandy shore. The waters of the lake were still, and therefore, like a mirror, reflecting the starry sky from above. The universe seemed to expand and stretch out further than could ever be imagined. And she sat there, at the edge of it all, a small form, a small child. She hugged her knees to her chest and rested her chin on the top of her hands. Her golden eyes, dull with sadness, followed the stars from the surface of the lake up into the night sky and tried to make sense of the patterns.

The bottle of vodka sat at her side, for now, forgotten.

Taverns have an expected atmosphere though the energy of this bar was pulsing. Czelsc was just a man without the intuition to pick up on power beyond the visible. The activity of the magical and ethereal were no notice nor bother to him. It only seemed to be a very packed environment.

There had been so much activity, such loud commotion going on that he could only manage looking around as he attempted to ground himself. His chest was not loosening up yet. He figured the initial wave of anxiety upon entering would pass except it was now well pass the amount of time it usually took to settle.

He clenched his drink as he took deep, slow breaths. A long in, a slow out. During one of these breaths he happened to look up as someone was passing by. Czelsc had to seem normal. Not as though he had anything to hide, but he just wanted to escape and be unnoticed. His right hand kept the tequila near his mouth, partly in a mid-drink and partly as a barrier. His stare kept with the woman who walked by. A mobile stalemate. His eyes followed her across the bar as his face gave a view of the conflicted emotions; curiosity and distrust.

He had followed this woman until she reached her destination being another woman seated at the bar. As his attention followed to this other being whom he quickly discovered had been watching him the whole time. His one gaze of attention was caught off guard by a whole new other gaze.

He stood there for a long moment. Looking straight at two women staring at him.

He turned his attention back to the scuffle inside his little box attached to his left side. His right eyebrow keeping perched so his parallel attention can be kept. His left hand pinched off another little piece of chicken as he went to offer it to the being within the box.

"Well...Come on.." he tried to coax. Except the meat was not taken. He moved it around a little, acting as if it were more lively or enticing. No movement for it. His gaze scanning the bar again as he quickly tried to resolve all of this. "C'mon now girl, you've got to eat.." He begged her, yet only to receive the sounds of scuffling.

But she had to eat. She was going under weight. When they are too light they cannot hunt, when they cannot hunt they cannot eat. One of nature's cycles of dark jokes.

"Please girl..please...

Now he received even less movement. He sighed aloud. He couldn't stay here.

He turned his attention away from his box so he could look straight ahead for a moment, for himself. Not looking at anyone or anything. Only a moment within his mind. He finished the tequila then set the glass down to be collected. The chicken from the plate was folded up and placed into a satchel pouch he had specific for such game meat.

"Then I guess let's go..." He admitted defeat as he stood from the bar stool, instinctually pushing off the bar top.

He felt watched. He felt energy that he couldn't recognize. He discretely moved away from it all. From the bar, from the people, from the air, the building. He thought this was the right place to go but for right now it seemed otherwise.

He navigated through the shoulders, the elbows, the heads, the people. Pushing through and around. Then he got to open the door.

And step, outside.

In....
.....Out....

He took a few more steps away from the tavern's exterior and dropped his head in defeat. How could his body become this. How could he let it happen. To spiral into such anxiety, such distrust.

He placed his hand on his chest while taking his breaths in any attempt to relax.

Without recognizing where to, he just began to pace. To venture into the surrounding. He would have no issue finding his way back, but he needed to get far away first.

He needed to get back to where he just came from.

Czeslc walked along a worn path on the ground until some trees settled thicker. He could smell the water and so he followed it. With a short time he made it to a near by lake, beautifully illuminated by nature above. He sighed of relief.

Looking around he seen nothing, nobody. Closer to the shore he ventured until finding an appropriate place to set some things down. A flat rock that seemed good enough to sit on had several other rocks near as well. His bag was placed next to the greater rock. A large sound of a miscellaneously packed "thud" onto the ground. He took off a the over coat which he had on and laid it down atop the bag he just set down. This now exposed his little box strapped close to his chest. He was obviously cautious of the cargo and babied it as such. Removing the strap from around his neck, he set the box down on the stone. He crouched down to meet the level of the box, unlocking it then opening the hatch.

"Alright girl, come on now dammit." he aggressively begged this time. She needed to eat. He was mad because his concern was worsening.

As he did so, out jumped little Rhae. Czelsc kept her on the perch out side of her box and began to try feeding her parts of the chicken now in better environment. If this didn't work, his next plan was to get her after the insects. Since kestrels also rely on insects for meals he figured this was a next best option. Birds loved to hunt atop the lakes. All the insects ready to grab. It is a prime place to hunt.

While he was an alert individual, he was still human, and therefore cannot be in a constant state of alertness. He relied on his senses while maintaining his focus on her. With this he presumed he was alone.

---

@Aeon Ingenuity

"I am observing the occupants of this tavern in an attempt to ascertain how humanity engages in intercourse. Hmm... Indeed; I am conducting an experiment, and struggling to achieve successful results." Anath Homura answered, annoyance added to her tone as she spoke. Her strength was waning while she sought to continue the conversation, and the cycle of weakening would worsen. She wondered whether she would have time to complete her tests...

She turned her attention to her hands, seeing as the shifting-searing symbols of the Stigma spread like starving flames across her flesh. Her silk sleeves hid little of the swirling scars upon slender limbs, the swift signatures of sin exuding an eerie scent - similar to a succulent feast tainted by a subtle foul substance.

She smiled, ignoring the insidious Stigma upon her skin and instead indulged in the dreadful delight of immersing herself in her surroundings, to her stranger-turned-to-friend. Anath Homura had seen so many variations of vampire that the strain of their souls, their sharpened senses, and haunting hunger, all were suppressed so that she would not suffer. The taste of rum upon her tongue still stung, and she felt a shadow of herself scowl somewhere unseen.

"Zafira... means to succeed. A victory."

@LadyAmber

"I do not drink. The results would be ruinous here." Anath Homura answered, recalling a time when she woke somewhere in the Underworld and was soaked with the blackened blood of the thousands she slaughtered. She was content to simply connect to the dwarf, and vicariously experience the vicious exaltation of alcohol.

The denizens of the tavern had offered lively libations to Anath Homura as they poured for themselves, alive and drinking, though prayers were wasted and no promises were woven. All aside from Fiona the faithful - though whether her deity deigned to provide guidance in exchange for piety was yet to be seen.

"Do you believe being drunk will show you the way home?" Neither hostility nor hope was heard in her neutral tone. Anath Homura analyzed the dwarf with a deferential gaze, the goddess asking with wonder and archaic weird attention, almost like a lost child looking to an enigmatic elder. The white-rose hummed, and her ruby-red eye sparkled strangely.

She heard him coming long before the silhouette of his form crossed the horizon of the path. Although he was light on his feet and he moved with all the grace of a person who was comfortable in the wilderness, she heard him. Of course, it wasn’t fair. He was human. She could smell his warm blood -- sweet along with the musky odor of sweat that dampened his brow. There was also the smell of rancid chicken. It wasn’t rotten, but it was dead, and far from fresh, and definitely on its way out. Any creature with a keen sense of smell would notice it, which oddly enough brought her attention to the last interesting scent that perfumed this interesting man. It was dandruff from feathers, a smell that reminded her of sunshine and wind -- of Raphael and Isabella.

Then she saw him. A man, wearing a heavy coat, a knapsack, and a wooden box around his neck. He moved with all the comfort and ease of someone who was certain he was in private, and she felt somewhat ashamed for not making herself known. However, that sense of guilt was quickly overcome. This was her space, she had found it first.

Even so, she knew it was childish. The polite thing to do would have been to make some sort of announcement of her presence. Perhaps clear her throat, or maybe make a move to stand, something that would have given away her position before he began to make himself at home. But she did no such thing. She was lost in the spectacle of his actions, and too far gone in the act of being a witness to this private moment of voyeurism. She consumed the vulnerability like a villain and observed him like a predator might observe prey.

From her place, sitting near the shore, she did not move. Her knees were still pulled to her chest and her arms were still wrapped around them. Although she did straighten her back and lift her head so that more of her face fell into the shadow of her hood, which she had made certain to pull back over her hair. Her features were hidden away, the gold of her eyes, lost in the darkness that was cast over them.

And she was free to watch the desperation and tenderness with which this man set down his small wooden box. How he sat into a low crouch, how he carried the tension in his thighs and back. With pinched brows, she observed the curious way his fingers unlatched the box, and how he rolled back onto his heels and waited.

“Alright girl, come on now dammit.”

Gabriela held her breath.

The skitter-scratch of small claws across a surface was the first indication that she had guessed correctly. She saw the small falcon hop out of the box only to perch just outside of it. The curious little thing, with bright and intelligent eyes, peered all around itself, then back up at the man. He was trying to feed it that same foul-smelling chicken.

“She probably wants to work for her supper,” Gabriela said out loud, “...probably, just wants to feel useful, and hunt, like she’s intended to.”

She should apologize and explain that she didn’t mean to startle him. But she didn’t say as much, the social graces for that seemed lost to her. She felt a bit burnt out. She wasn’t certain if Roen was still beyond the tavern. If he was still coming after her, or if he had grown bored and left. The games he played with her -- the things he did to her. They twisted her up and hurt her. She wasn’t herself and hadn’t been for so long now.

But surely she could at least manage passing friendliness.

Surely she could still manage common decency.

Maybe she should apologize.

“I am sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you -- I was here first. You just walked up. I didn’t want to interrupt you.”

Rhae had finally come out of her box and perched, though she was still denying the chicken. Her head gyrating to focus all around her. Still using only his left hand for the chicken he rubbed the meat near her head in an act of enticement. Just pick at it a little, something. It was as quiet as nature would allow. The wind still gently rustling along in waves. The nocturnal insects and amphibians singing duets. Just him, and Rhae.

“She probably wants to work for her supper,...probably, just wants to feel useful, and hunt, like she’s intended to.”

His eyes shot straight forward, staring a thousand yards above Rhae's head. His brow pinched instantly mad. His heart which had just begun to calm kicked high tempo as he considered his next actions. In these situations you had to decide on the quick, heavy, hard offensive, or the logically defensive position. He did not hear any threat to her voice nor tones which would give him suspicion. He still was not impressed with being snuck up on.

“I am sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you -- I was here first. You just walked up. I didn’t want to interrupt you.”

His gaze kept tightly forward as he considered his next moves in this game.

"Actually, I've got a couple of problems with you already." He could not afford to be cheap with his friendliness. He hadn't made it this far in life without saving it. It had to be earned, and even then it would come with stipulation.

Considering her voice again he presumed that she did not have a weapon drawn on him. Though, he did not know that this woman did not need to rely on mortal toys. He was a nomad; he was use to being creative with finding anything to be a weapon and to keep it near.

"First of all, you say you didn't want to startle me. But you did." His low and grated voice paused as he reached for Rhae who was still perched. His large hand wrapping around the tiny falcon. His palm around her back and wings while his fingers touched as they wrapped around her chest. He had her entirely in his palm, wrapped up by his hand. It was an odd, even peculiar thing to see.

"Second, you say you didn't want to interrupt me. But you did." He slowly began to stand up now, still keeping his stare forward and the tiny falcon clenched in his fist. "Third, said you seen me coming. Said this is your spot, you got here first." His slang and accent gave it away that he traveled. His eyes began to spin to the left, pulling his head along in their tug of attention. "If that were the case, then why didn't you move on? Leave me be instead of bothering---sorry---interrupting me."

He was now facing her. His brown eyes staring right into her's as he spoke. His attention entirely focused on her entire body to gauge any actions to prepare against. His face was a solid stone; hardly flexing when he spoke. He kept this swaggered persona as this had kept him out of danger before. Just enough confidence to call the other's bluff.

"Last? I heard what you said about her. She's underweight. She needs to gain so she can hunt better. It's another reason I came down here besides looking for peace, is to get her to hunt the bugs over the lake. She ain't a duck. You don't just give her bread to fatten' up." His tone could be described as an annoyed tough guy. This was either successful or punched through as a front. He kept it strong for a long, long time now.

"So what is this really then?" he pulled the question right to the front. "You could have left me alone. What is this really about." It hardly sounded like a question for how flat his voice was. The tiny falcon still clenched tightly in his fist the whole time. The bird did not seem to mind one bit, as though she was use to this. Rhae just continued looking around at her environment.

He stood there waiting for the next decision.