Mario's is a small diner in New York City. Its furnishings make up for their cheapness with gaudy red and white coloring; even if the chrome fittings could do with a polish they still shine in the dawn sunlight. The hour is early, and the restaurant is almost empty, but the smell of cooking grease and strong coffee hang heavy in the air as the staff prepare for the coming breakfast rush. A waitress behind the counter watches the few patrons for empty coffee cups, while they in turn tend to their meals with various levels of lethargy. Viewed without context, the scene could be set in any of a hundred thousand diners throughout the country.

That quiet scene is broken by the front door flying open, apparently of its own accord. It hits a rack of classifieds, which are sent scattering. Objects on the bar and tables start exploding. Salt shakers and ketchup bottles send fragments of glass flying everywhere, and their detonations trace a path from the door down the restaurant. Near the end of the bar, a plastic display case full of pie tumbles off its perch, and a waiter standing stunned in the back of house entryway is pushed over by an invisible force.

From the kitchen can be heard the sounds of falling pots and pans, as if a wild animal were wreaking havoc, but for a few moments the dining room is once again quiet. A patron might have enough time to catch their breath and check themselves for cuts. They might even have enough time to look out the front windows and see a man in a cheap suit standing on the sidewalk out front, with a look of concentration on his face.

Then the diner erupts into flame, killing everyone inside.

-----

You wake up with a start. The plastic of the barstool creaks below you. You are sitting at a black plywood bar in what seems to be a dance club of some kind. With the house lights up, the whole place looks cheap and dirty. Overflowing trash cans stand near the walls, bits of lank streamers hang from the exposed rafters, and sticky spots on the bar and floor where drinks were spilled the night before have yet to be wiped up.

A slightly-built man stands behind the bar, grabbing the edge with both hands. He looks to be pushing fifty; his over-tanned skin makes it hard to tell one way or the other, and his eyes are yellow. He's wearing a tassled black leather vest with nothing underneath, and a pair of tight snakeskin pants the same color. His mouth is open in a toothy grin, and his teeth are the same gaudy gold of the massive lightbulb-studded sign above the liquor, which reads E*D*E*N.

Looking back and forth, you can see that four of the stools are occupied; three with people from the diner, and a fourth which has a crow on a wooden perch, positioned so that it can see over the bar. On the bar in front of each is a card. It is larger than a regular playing card, and is covered with a fractal design which shifts subtly in color and pattern as you look at it.

Something about the card gives you a feeling of recognition--like seeing an old friend, or finding a childhood toy you had almost forgotten about.

"Well, hello." Before you can contemplate that further, the man's voice--deep, melodic, and ripe with affected charm--breaks the silence. "I'm sorry to be the one to have to tell you this, but the bad news is that you're all dead."

This was most certainly not how Luka Durand thought his twelve day long Christmas party would end.

For one thing, he thought it would end after the twelfth day rather than the second.

But hey, the impromptu fireworks display that cut things short was certainly impressive. On top of that, Jesse and Montague weren't sitting with him at the bar. So presumably they were still among the living. But that wasn't the icing on the cake.

That honor belonged to the realization that one of the others seated at the bar was in fact the thrice cursed corvid that had recently taken to stealing from him. Luka couldn't help but laugh at that.

"The bane of my existence dying with me! Truly the finest Boxing Day treat I've ever had!" Luka exclaimed with a new appreciation for the saying 'save the best for last' in his heart, before turning back to the bartender with a happy grin on his face. "Barkeep. A round of your finest for everyone save that midnight feathered menace, if you would be so kind. Also, open a tab. I intend to be placing that order with a fair amount of frequency over the next few centuries."

The street outside of Mario's was the Crow's main hunting ground. Well, more like scavenging ground... it didn't really do much 'hunting' besides ambushing the occasional rat. There was plenty of food to be found there regardless, and even then, it wasn't always food that caught its fancy. Sometimes it was a dropped coin, or a loose earring. Sometimes, it was something as insignificant as a bottle cap. It didn't really matter. As long as it caught the light in particular way, the moment it was just out of its owner's reach, it was up for grabs and the Crow was quick to take.

As such, the bird had earned something of a reputation around the area, recognizable for its behavior and the distinctive patches of off-white feathers on its wings. The public had given it several names: that Damned Crow (or DC), That Fucking Crow, Stupid Bird, Crow from Hell, Feathered Fiend, and many more... some it liked more than others, but they were all its names, collected like its many treasure.

Speaking of treasure, the Crow had been on the sidewalk just outside the diner, very carefully attempting to remove a coin that was stuck in a sewer grate. Just as it was making progress in freeing the coin, suddenly there was a loud noise just in the diner behind it and it felt himself being flung back.

Then, in the blink of an eye, it found itself somewhere else entirely. Inside some sort of building he didn't recognize, atop some sort of perch that he felt had been specifically place here for him. Across a table stood a strange human with striking yellow eyes, and on the stools next to him, three others. One of them he didn't recognize, but two were familiar to him. He didn't know their names, of course, but their faces he distinctly remembered. One was a girl who had given him food in the past, and the other, a vibrant young man who often carried him the shiniest trinkets and had quite the habit of losing track of them.

The yellow-eyed man spoke first. As an intelligent corvid, the Crow had managed to gain some understanding of a good few human words, though like most animals, sentence structure eluded him. So it was quite some surprise that when the man with yellow eyes spoke, he perfectly understood the meaning of his words.

"Dead?" the Crow's voice rang out, revealing a masculine, posh and fairly pompous sounding voice that all humans present would be capable of comprehending. "What do you mean dead? That is very much not possible, good sir! I am still here! In fact, I dare say I feel more alive than I ever have, I-" He paused. Was he normally this verbose? Was his mind normally racing as fast as it was now? He felt very strange, though he couldn't wasn't sure why. He felt as if he were seeing things more clearly than usual.

Before he could fully dwell over these thoughts, the vibrant human spoke up, seeming quite jovial despite the news that had been presented to him. In fact, it seemed he recognized the Crow just as quickly as the Crow recognized him, and seemed quite happy that the bird had met his end. The Crow was just about to give a sharp retort when he noticed something on the table in front of the young man: a strange colorful rectangle that seemed to change color and pattern depending on what angle it was viewed from. And once he noticed the vibrant man's card, he noticed three others lined alongside it.

Including one just in front of the Crow himself that seemed to bring out a strong possessive feeling within him.

With a flutter of his wings and a large hop, the Crow cleared the gap between his perch and the counter and placed on his talon over the card - his card.

"What's this?" he said, pecking at the rectangle curiously.

Ashley is not a frequent patron of Mario's or any other restaurants. She prefer making her own food and leaving the leftovers at the fridge for her to eat later. It was how she and mom managed their money back in the day and she wanted to continue that life. There are exceptions to this preference though like when was too tired to cook (which never happened) and holidays (which is the current situation).

It hasn't been the same though, eating food alone felt like tasting ash in her mouth and as much as she tries admit it she is only doing it out of habit. She could try inviting Emily or accepting Professor Rudolph's offer to join him in the Christmas. Right she should've done the latter but she doesn't really want to impose herself on him.

She felt like an idiot.

Ashley closed her eyes, the diner wasn't that filled there is nothing to steal on her so maybe she could just take a small nap...

---

Ashley opened her eyes sitting on a stool, that was weird because she remembered taking the seat. Her eyes darted around her where finds Emily, a crow and a man who won't be out of place in music videos. The man appears to have a beef with the crow and the crow seems to be capable of speaking

What is happening? Is she on a high?

Fortunately it is enough to distract her from the shock of waking up dead.

"So what is this place? I'm pretty sure this is not anyone's idea of heaven?" she asked touching the card between her fingers.

...Emily knew that she shouldn't have left the dorm today.

She could feel it in her bones that morning. Today should have been a day where she'd just stay in her dorm, under her blankets and on her computer writing up her various ideas.

...Instead, she decided to go to Mario's. It was a diner she didn't frequent, but she heard good things about it. It was to be just a quick breakfast and she'd be out of there. To her surprise, her roommate, Ashley, was also going there. She also noticed a familiar looking crow outside, but...she wasn't sure if that was the same crow as before.

She had just been eating a delicious omelette when all hell broke loose. Her eyes were wide as some invisible force rampaged throughout the diner!

When that brief moment came...Emily instinctively looked outside, and saw the figure...staring into the diner with a look of concentration. Before the questions could come to Emily's mind, everything was engulfed in flames and...

---

She awakes with a start...in a bar?

Looking around, Emily began to curl in on herself. This was most definitely not the type of place she would frequent! She also noted that she was not alone. Ashley was there! There was also a flashy looking man, and...the crow.

At each of their spots was...a card? Looking at the card, Emily felt like she was looking at the very first book that truly made her fall in love with writing and gave her that aspiration to become a writer!

She looked up to the bartender and immediately noticed his sharp yellow eyes. She couldn't help but think of Mary Shelley's Frankenstein, the so-called monster brought back from the dead had such yellow eyes.

She is brought out of her observations when the man informed them all that they were dead. At first she could only let out a quiet disbelieving, "...What...?" in response to the news. She looks to the flashy and gaudy man as he celebrates the crow's death and she glares at him.

She then brings her attention back to the barkeep as she realizes that he could be lying about this whole matter of being dead! Before she could ask about that, the crow actually spoke! That was the voice she imagined a crow in the past having! She answers the crow, emboldened by the fact that he actually spoke and that this wasn't a trick, "....We're here because this is some form of afterlife. Of course, to think an afterlife would actually exist..."

She then looks to Ashley as she asks her question, and she comments, "That's a very good question. I'm guessing from our surroundings, this is neither Heaven nor Hell,"

She then asks the barkeeper, "....Is this the part where we are judged and sentenced? Or are the tales I've heard so far incorrect?"

....She really wished she had just slept in today...

The bartender smiles at Luka. With a few deft motions, he produces three plastic cups full of ice. A bottle of unlabled clear liquor appears in his hand and he pours a double shot in each, then fills the cups the rest of the way with a can of lemon-lime soda from under the bar.

"Sorry this is the best I can offer right now. As you can see," he gestures at the club in general, "we're kind of tapped out at the moment. Hoping to get restocked soon, if the checks clear and the providers come through. But not to worry! I can always find a little something extra for Mr. VIP." With a flourish of his hand, the bartender produces a cocktail sword on which a cherry and lime have been speared, stabs it into Luka's drink, and slides the cup across the counter to him.

"Right." The smile fades; he slaps his hands on the edge of the bar, leaning forward towards you. "Matters at hand. Yes, it is very much possible that you are dead. And you two are right that this is neither heaven nor hell. Tell the truth, I, uh..." He gives Emily and Ashley a look that seems almost apologetic. "Well, this ain't really a normal part of the process."

The bartender pushes off the edge of the bar and begins making himself a drink with that same mysterious liquor.

"But I'm being rude. I already know the four of you, but I haven't introduced myself. I've been called a bunch of names, but you bunch can call me Santana. This," he makes a little circular motion with one finger, "is my domain, E*D*E*N. Which you may have noticed is a little trashed at the moment."

Santana stirs the drink with a finger, then flicks the excess liquor off.

"I'm sure the question on your mind is, 'if this isn't the afterlife, then why are we here'? Well, I short-stopped you on your way to the final rest because I wanna make a deal with you." He takes a sip of the drink, pauses, and shrugs. "I've got some personal beef with the people who killed you. They're mostly responsible for the sorry state of what you see around you. That's why, when I noticed one of them had punched a bunch of tickets to that big train in the sky, I figured it was a good opportunity.

"Those cards you have in front of you?" He nods at the card currently under The Crow's talon. "Think of it as a mulligan. You take the card, you pop back to life, ehh... five or so minutes before you bit it. Enough time to do something about the whole part where you blow up."

He knocks back the glass, drains it in a single pull, and overhand tosses it at an overflowing trash can at the end of the bar. It bounces off the garbage sticking out the top, and ice cubes scatter across the ground. If Santana notices, he gives no indication.

"What I want from you in return--and I think this is a pretty good offer--is to use that second chance I'm giving you to completely fuck up their plans."

As the Crow pecked at the card in front of them, they were vaguely aware of the questions their companions were throwing at this 'Santana' individual, though the words they were using were strange to him. 'Heaven'? 'Hell'? What did they mean by an 'afterlife'? Wasn't there just death after life? However, this seemed to be a concept all humans present were familiar with, so he wasn't about to speak up and reveal his ignorance.

Besides, it didn't seem like it really mattered all that much, because 'Santana' apparently had a way to bring them back to the world of the living. Again, this seemed like it should be utterly impossible, but a lot things weren't really making sense right now, so the bird decided they should just take the offer and ask questions later when death was no longer something they had to worry about. "I accept!" the Crow said. "And I will make sure that whatever killed me pays dearly! The Crow is not one to tolerate such slights."

And with that, he lifted his talon off the card and attempt to scoop it up with his beak.

Despite the bartender admitting to a lack of quality due to supply issues, Luka caught the bladed beverage with an appreciative and understanding nod. He'd forgive the inconvenience until the establishment had been restocked. Until then, Luka took a sip of the drink and considered it for a time. It was not the best beverage that had ever made it to his hand, but he'd certainly had worse. And if better offerings could be had once the logistical troubles were resolved, Luka decided he could afford to be patient.

As the bartender began to speak again, Luka only half paid attention to what the guy was saying as he finally spotted his card on the bar. It was certainly an intriguing thing to behold. Especially since doing so conjured up a feeling of nostalgia despite Luka being certain he had never seen this specific card before.

When the bartender - or Santana as he had introduced himself - had finished laying down the terms of his deal, Luka finished his own drink. "So to summarize: I can go back and finish my Christmas party, and in return, you want me to bring ruin to your enemies?" Luka said while glancing between his glass and the trash can. "...Sure. Why not. If nothing else, it will give me something to do while I wait for this establishment to restock and repair."

Luka pitched his glass towards the garbage receptacle just as his mysterious dealmaking host had. Not bothering to see if his aim had been true or not, Luka flicked his star shades down over his eyes and picked up his card.

Emily is silent as she listened to Santana as he introduced himself and answered some questions. She blinked at his apologetic look in confusion. After he mentioned the people who killed the group, and how he jumped at the opportunity to call them here, she started to ask,

"The people who killed us-?"

She stops and her eyes grow wide at the memory of the man standing outside with a concentrated look. She then gasps in realization, "Wait. That guy...!"

She half listened as Santana explained the cards in front of the four of them. The other half of her mind recalled what had occurred before she spotted the man outside. A question arose from those memories and the answer eluded her even now!

She looks up as he expresses what he wants in return for bringing them back to life: For them to mess with the people who killed them and ruin their plans. She looked at The Crow and the flashy guy as they just accept the deal without hesitation or question. They may have the name Santana, but as far as Emily knew, none of them knew what kind of devil they were dealing with, or what they were getting themselves into.

Looking at her own card...she too didn't want to pass up the second chance to achieve her dreams. But there were questions that need to be addressed.

She speaks up, "Wait a minute! Wait. A. Minute!"

She looks to Santana directly and she starts, "I'm not saying 'No', but there is something that needs to be addressed,"

She clarifies further, "I think I saw one of the people you mentioned and what they did, but I do not know how he managed to attack and kill us in the diner. Also, to be frank, you got two college students, the crow, and a frat boy," As she lists the four of them off, she points to Ashley and herself first, the crow second, and Luka last.

She soon finishes, "You didn't exactly get super soldiers or spies worthy of Mission Impossible to assist you, and we're clearly not dealing with just some Average Joe. So, how do you expect us to be able to counter...whatever that guy did?"

"Santa... na..." Ashley spoke as she listened to the bartender's 'deal', so she truly died while asleep? That was very unceremonious and honestly a bit embarrassing. She doesn't know what death should look like but this is definitely now how she imagined it will go.

She briefly looked as Emily who apparently saw someone that caused their death, she would ask her on who it is later. Or maybe she doesn't need to.

She looked at the card on her hand, so she is given a chance to redo things and save herself. She knew she had no choice but to take the second chance but there questions that needed to be answered. Emily already asked the how but she also to ask...

"Why us?" Ashley asked. "Emily is correct, there are other people in the diner who will handle the situation better." she spoke.

"People who can fight, people who can scheme or won't ask questions like us and yet you picked us, why?"

"A frat boy!?" Luka repeated in pure indignation as he looked up from his card. "How dare you compare me to those tribes of savages! I have absolutely nothing in common with those barbarians! Nothing at all...! Never the less, you two do make a fair point." Luka turned his gaze from the girls and back to Santana. "Wealthy and well-connected as I am, those things take a little longer than five minutes to bring to bear. I trust you have some plan that will allow us to swiftly overcome this explosive enemy?"

Luka, Ashley, and The Crow--as you pick up the cards in front of you, that sensation of sympathy you felt coming from them intensifies. In your mind, it feels like the the thrumming of some great string under tension. Power--energy--change--held fast but straining against its bonds. Like a bridge cable, supporting the weight of a hundred speeding cars--or, it might be better to say, a dog straining its leash when it sees its owner.

Santana considers the two holdouts for a second with unreadable yellow eyes, then shrugs. "Why you? Well, it had to be someone. And today? You're someone." He chuckles at his own remark, then his expression turns serious. "I'm jokin' with you, but that's the truth. How I brought you here, offered you a second chance at life... Well, that might have given you some more grandiose ideas of what I can do than are borne out by the facts. The truth is that, at the moment, I'm at my nadir. Even if I weren't, there are rules that beings like myself have to follow. Proprieties to be observed." He meets Ashley's eyes. "You talk like I could have picked anyone I wanted but, at the end of the day, I couldn't have picked anyone else, any more than I could make you take my offer now.

"Still, I get where you all are comin' from. And I have no intention of throwin' you to the wolves unarmed." He reaches out, grabbing Emily's card and setting it standing upright on a corner, then flicks it, sending it spinning on that tiny point. Emily, you feel an uncomfortable fluttering sensation in your chest as the coruscating colors flicker back and forth. At first, you think you see an image in the shifting patterns--a woman, holding something aloft--but it's hard to focus on it, and you lose it after only a brief moment. After a few seconds, the card slows to a stop, and falls gently down to rest where it started.

"This place--not just my domain, but everything around it--is at the intersection of reality and imagination. Between mind and matter. It's real 'cause your minds make it real. Not 'you' you, everyone. The collective unconscious of humanity is a force like gravity, and it holds together both my world and yours." He places a lime and a cocktail cherry on the bar a couple of inches away from each other. "Just like the Earth and the moon, the force of humanity's shared emotions keeps this world and yours linked." He starts moving the cherry in an elliptical orbit around the lime. "Chugga chugga, choo choo, it keeps looping around. But the effect ain't just one way--just like the moon affects the tides, the world of dreams pulls on the collective unconscious." He spins the lime, and it begins to rotate in time, keeping one end pointed toward the cherry's orbit.

"For the most part, that's all for the good. Everything in balance, et cetera et cetera. But sometimes, people break free of the spin. For some, all it takes is bein' made aware of the cycle. Other people need... more of a push. Either way, when that happens, some of that energy they contributed to the cycle is redirected. It becomes a representation of their soul, and provides some protection against the pull of the dream world. Not just that, but it lets its master exert some of that gravity I mentioned to make changes in both worlds.

"The people you'd be goin' up against already have this power. Different people have given it different names over the years, but they call it 'Eidolon'." Santana folds his arms and nods at the cards. "If you accept my deal, that's the power you'll have too." He shrugs. "Will what you gain be enough to do what I'm askin'? Well... I'd say that's up to you. I won't lie to you--your opponents will be more numerous and better trained than you. You're gonna have to be quick and clever if you want to survive, much less succeed. I guess my question is: what do you really have to lose?"

Apparently, not all of the Crow's companions were as quick to jump at a second chance as he was. While the vibrant human took up his card not long after the Crow had, the two girls seemed more hesitant. There were more words exchanged between them and their host that, even with the Crow's newfound comprehension, he couldn't quite understand.

However, he did seem to pick up on the fact that Santana was giving them a gift besides just a new life, some kind of tool that would help them overcome the odds. The Crow placed his card between his talons and looked over at Emily. "Fear not!" he said. "Between this gift and our own wits, I believe we will have more than a fighting chance. And besides..." He glanced an eye towards Luka. "Whatever failings certain other team members may have, the Crow is enough to make up for it."

Clearly, even with this overwhelming situation threatening to strain his attention span, the Crow had not forgotten the young man's previous - not to mention, incredibly premature - celebration at his demise.

The direction of the Crow's gaze when he mentioned the failings of certain other team members did not go unnoticed by Luka. "And how exactly does a dollar store raven intend to make up for things that do not in fact exist?" He asked the bothersome bird.

To Luka's comment, the Crow snorted. "Well the fact you cannot even tell your birds apart speaks for itself," he said, waving a wing dismissively in Luka's direction before turning his head away. "Raven indeed... As if I'm anything like those pompous creatures," he muttered under his breath, before giving another snort.

"And your inability to understand metaphor speaks likewise." Luka shot back. "I am well aware of the fact that you are a cheap imitation of a raven rather than the genuine article... But either way, I think we're getting off topic here." Luka turned his gaze back to Santana. "You've got yourself a deal with me." He said to the bartender. "So how exactly do we go about getting this 'Eidolon' you mentioned? Since none of us have it even after you told us about the cycle, I'm guessing we'll be needing a push? What does that entail exactly?"

Ashley stared at Santana unimpressed by the joke but she will admit that it lightened up the atmosphere. "Figures, you're just playing with the card you've been dealt."

She then contemplated what she felt, it felt like ripple in her heart letting her see the world more clearer. Like her sight is being cleaned on the spot.

"Well it's not like I want to die here." Ashley spoke as she turned to the crow, Emily and the K-Pop guy. Letting herself die so that Mr. Whitlock won't find her is tempting but she digress.

"But we're not going blindly or in a rush. Let's start with introductions, I am Ashley Whitlock and as Emily said I'm a college student. I'm currently on an accelerated course for my bachelor's degree in history minor in political studies. I knew how to throw a punch but I don't prefer that option, so how about you guys?"

Emily looked briefly to Ashley when she agreed with her questions and added her own of 'Why us?' on top of it. When the flashy frat boy responded indignantly to her description. She gave a nod at his first question, and she listens as he gives a brief 'How dare you' speech, before he agrees with their point. She said nothing up until he mentions the wealth and connections. There she quietly snarked, "Up until Mommy and Daddy cuts you off..."

Then came Santana's answers, to which Emily paid full attention to. Apparently, Santana is currently at his lowest point right now and he couldn't pick anyone else. Emily hadn't expected Santana to pick up her card and spin it. Even less so what happened next. Upon feeling that uncomfortable flutter in her chest, she let out a small hiss of a gasp. It felt like another bout of nervousness, anxiety, or fear, but this was clearly different: It didn't feel like it was threatening to squeeze her heart until she dropped dead. She thought she was daydreaming again when she saw the colors overtake her vision, and she vaguely sees an unknown woman holding something aloft.

The vision was gone before she could make anything else out. The next thing Emily knew, she was looking at the card, back where she first saw it.

She listened further, taking in every detail of the location they were in, how it borders between dream and reality, mind and matter, and the forces at play. Receiving the power from the energy from their discovery of this cycle...in the form of their idealized selves, a representation of their souls? A part of her couldn't help but wonder, "What does this mean for writers here...?!"

She looks up from the makeshift diagram of the lime and the cherry to look at Santana again when he makes it clear that their foes have the same powers and are more practiced at it, but they would receive that same power. All that was left was to answer one final question:

"What...did she really have left...to lose?"

The answer was nothing now, of course. But her mind still brought up the worst case scenarios. She does start to reach out for the card, only to close her fingers hesitantly as wicked whispers disparaging her and their chances of success come to mind. Those voices soon ring in their ears loudly to a distracting degree...She's not good enough for anything. Her ideas may not even be original after all. Maybe she should just stay dea-

One voice immediately silenced those thoughts.

That voice belonged to The Crow.

She looked to him when he spoke up and told her to not be afraid, and that he was confident in their gifts, their wits, and their teamwork, even if one has failings. She gave a small smile, keeping herself from tearing up a bit. A small chuckle escapes while The Crow and the flashy guy argue.

She is silent as Luka asked further questions and Ashley began a round of introductions. As soon as Ashley posed the question to the group, she starts, "Oh! Uh..." She then quickly speaks, "Emily Sanderson. Also pursuing Bachelor's. Undeclared major. I only have basic self-defense, but never really used it,"

She then looks to Santana, back to the card, and then back to Santana again, as she makes her decision, "...I accept your deal,"

She immediately picks up her card after saying so.

The Crow had no idea what a metaphor was, so he didn't bother to respond to Luka's comeback. Instead, he turned to the two girls, who were introducing themselves. He nodded approvingly, and once they were done, he cleared his throat. "I am the Crow," he said. "I own the territory around Mario's diner and I know how to defend what's mine. I will also accept That Damned Crow, That Fucking Crow, Blasted Bird, Crow from Hell, Feathered Fiend and..." He paused, as if recalling something. He pointed at Luka with a wing. "What was that moniker you referred to me as when we first woke up here? Err, 'Midnight-feathered Menace', I do believe?" He nodded to himself. "Yes, I do quite like that. I will be using that in future. You do have a way with words, old chap, I will give you that." He then shot Luka a very smug look. "But I suppose it would have been cruel for nature to not give you at least one redeeming quality."

"Luka Durand." Luka spoke in reply to the request for introductions as if those two words were all that were needed to be said. Which, to be fair, was likely all that needed to be said for the humans at the bar. Even if they did not recognize Luka's first name. His surname was well known throughout the city. The Durands had called the city of New York home for nearly as long as the city had been a city. Their money was older than the US itself. The city's tallest skyscraper, a formidable building known simply as 'the Column', was raised by their command.

But Durand wasn't the only recognizable surname in the room.

Luka realized this after a moment. And when he did, Ashley has his full and undivided attention. "Hold up." He said. "Did you just say your name was Ashley... Whitlock?"