F01 - Blackbook, Grand Opening Pt. II

[Luke Pendragon 0]

Luke was in a very peculiar mood today. He had walked around a party, letting his guard down for the first time in a long time. He’d been assured that this was a safe area and while he could never truly trust anyone in this world, he found himself feeling relaxed. He hadn’t known that the drink he’d had was spiked with something bizarre. 

His first clue should have been the swirling colors that made him stare absent mindedly a bit too long at people’s clothing as he walked around. He felt himself put on a giddy smile, wondering what the hell was going on. 

“Would anyone like to dance?” he asked, perhaps a bit too loudly. He nearly fell over as he bumped into someone who was dancing nearby. They shoved him back and rolled their eyes before returning to their date. 

A date… why hadn’t he come with one? 

 

[Hirru 0]

He let her choose, and her choice was enough for him.  Tying the mask upon him, he would watch her do the same before they would find themselves back into the dim lighting, odd smells, fine music, and the soft muffles of voices here and there.  Upon entering the main area, their names appear, as if the place was made to keep the truth only if you wished it.  Hirru wouldn't need to glance up to see it.  He trusted her to enough to give him her name, as he did for her.  No, his eyes were now slowly scanning the area, as a certain someone was no longer at the bar.  No, they were now in the arms of someone upon the dance floor, although she seemed quite drunk and out of herself, maybe.  It also seemed that she was probably where she wanted to be.  He would give a quick smile before being brought back to this own present company, with a very specific question.  What happened to him and that scar?

"That..."

He hesitated before slowly bringing her to one of the sofas dotting the edges of the room.

"..Is another story."

He would say while helping her to sit down comfortably.

"One that has no beginning..."

Softly he spoke before he would sit down, as well, taking the cushion next to her.  Settling in as he finished his sentence.

"..and is still ongoing."

He would tell them one day, but today was not that day.  Not that he wanted to add suspense, but there were reasons for not wanting to speak openly about his issue.  Especially in an open environment like this.  Another day; another time.

"Though, it does not have an answer that even I like, and yet I do not want to spin it another way.  It is not a tall tale, one that one can weave and dance around, embellishing their claims, or some other thing.."

He would gaze in to those inquistive eyes, all the more seeking answers that he may yet give.  He wanted to give in, but this was not something he wished to willingly give.  Instead, he would continue the story where he left off.

"Speaking of weird things.. where was I?"

@Vanta

Hirru stats

Hirru Lvl 35 (PL 74) True LVL: 109 / True Tier: 11

Edited Friday at 06:03 AM by Hirru

[Cascade 0]

~PH~

[Luke Pendragon 0]

A breeze rushed in through a window that had been cracked open. This time of year he expected chilly weather. He felt hot in this party so the breeze was welcome. People seemed to be dancing all around him. He continued to watch them, somehow feeling that if he waited long enough someone would approach him. He was feeling far too shy to go out and find someone to dance with. He thought to himself that he might just stand here all night, and he probably wouldn't be any worse for wear if he did.

He took another sip from his drink against his better judgement. He felt his mind start to wander as he did so. He started counting things around him - the number of red dresses, ponytails, chairs, tables. The numbers he counted started floating around him. He finally realized that his drink must have been spiked with something. 

[Ceres 0]

Ceres was still at the food table, having no real interest in dancing, and absolutely no interest in kissing or dating or anything of the like that the rest of the patrons seemed to be interested in. No, her desires were far more simple. Just enjoy herself, maybe meet new people, try to find her friend Accy - and eat good food. And wouldn't you know it, good food was right in front of her.

"Hmm...." A finger tapped her lightly glossed lips. She had tried the small dumplings, the little pigs in blankets, she had eaten the more fancier things - canapes of rosemary, thyme and a variety of cheeses - but in the center of the table sat a giant round of caviar. Ceres never really had caviar before. There were three things she had known about caviar. Number one; it was fish eggs, and apparently super duper pretentiously fancy.  Number two; some people had special caviar spoons made of opal, and it was these spoons that she spotted placed around the caviar round, in an aesthetic circle. And third - that you were supposed to push the eggs to the top of your palette to eat them, let them melt - no chewing.

"I doubt I'll ever have the chance to eat this....so...." A slender arm reached out to pick up one of the spoons. she unceremoniously dug a hole straight in the middle of the caviar round, again, completely oblivious to social decorum. she dug out a large chunk of it and stuck it in her mouth. She let it melt on her palette, but also couldnt help but chew some of the eggs.

"Hmmm...." A tilt of her head to the side; rose-colored hair spilling over bare shoulders- it wasn't fishy like she thought it would be, it was almost like nut butter? Why was this so expensive???

She opened her lavender eyes, and they landed on a man nearby, with a drink in his hand. He swayed a little, Ceres assumed from intoxication. Many people had taken that quest after all. He had blue eyes and hair like the midnight sky. He was alone. Ceres smiled brightly as she dipped the spoon (that she already had eaten off mind you) back into the caviar, and turned to face him.

"Hey... did you want to try some? They say its expensive but I don't understand...." Her voice was airy, soft. "Try?" She asked, pressing the spoon closer.
 

@Luke Pendragon

[Jevi 0]

Ill get this up at some point

[Reytac 0]

Reytac blinked and looked over to the woman talking with him, raising one eyebrow as he considered not just her question, but also the way she had scrambled to justify what she’d asked. He chuckled, the sound soft, almost lost to the music that filled the air, and he leaned back against the bar as he let his eyes wander across the crowd of people around them. 

”First, you don’t have to defend yourself. You're fine to ask – I’d talk about her at the drop of a hat. And age doesn’ aalways play a role in emotions – obviously you have to keep things appropriate, but – well.  If you’re thinking you don’t want to find someone because you’re afraid they’d slow you down, or hold you back, then you’ve had exposure to the wrong kind of relationships in the past.” He lifted his glass and took a sip from it, letting it burn down his throat to sit in the warm ball in his stomach. His eyes drifted closed as he thought about her. Focusing not on his fears and worries, but on the laughter and smiles they’d shared. 

” A good, healthy relationship? Will be someone who supports you in what you’re trying to do, in your goals. Someone who challenges you and makes you think, tries to inspire you to be better, to be more. My wife, didn’t have the best life when she was young. Lot of mess and drama that’s not really important here. I’ve done my best to help her, make her see the wonderful woman I know was hidden away behind pain and fear. Now, she laughs and smiles so much more, gets obsessed with true crime shows.” Reytac rocked his shoulders, making them pop slightly as he cracked open an eye to look at Lynn. She still looked nervous, was probably still worried. 

”And now she’s the one who was pressing me forward. To pursue the things that made me happy, not just drain myself in a job that was slapping the life and joy out of me, but paid enough to take care of our family. Th one who pushed me to do more, try and achieve more. She’s smart, and funny, but so damn caring she tries to help whoever she can, even if it ends up burning her. And I wouldn’t have her any other way – if I tried to stop her from reaching out to those in need, I feel like I’d be stifling a core part of who she is.” He lifted up his glass and drained it, setting the empty back down on the bar top with a clink as he sighed softly. For a moment he thought he felt hands on his shoulders, and lips pressing against the top of his head, and his eyes clenched shut as he drew in a ragged breath, before shoving it away. This wasn’t the time or place for morose ponderings. 

”So tell me about these projects of yours you mentioned Miss Az, if you can? Most of those I’ve talked to try not to think about their lives outside, so you've got me curious.”

 

 

@Azhoda

 

[Frostmaw 0]

With her dance partner quickly swinging into one lovely move, Frost seemed to enjoy herself as well, joining in the dance with the lady. Your Grace is such a weird one to pick, but to Frost, it was fitting. She did play the knight with dark history, so calling the girl Grace would be excellent for her, honestly.

Yet suddenly, a man intercepted their dance way too quickly and started to just brush Frost away, without any remorse. Frost stood there for a second and didn't get to even say anything before her dance partner was just swooped away from her. Something about this man didn't feel right to her, and she wasn't gonna let someone just so simply take away her fun without informing her. It was not rage or annoyance that started to boil, but her need for attention and her almost overprotective, stubborn refusal to sit idly. She knew she could not make a scene right now; it was way too early for her to even start a fight, but she was willing to if it ever came to it. With her target in sight and with honesty, honest-to-no-care for others, she moved back towards Your Grace and this ... man thing. With almost the identical smooth amount of movement, Frost quickly jumped and placed her hand on top of Your Grace for a moment and quickly spun her around into her own arms, "Sorry, but I believe you stole something that was mine first," She said calmly, but there was a tone of cold. For almost a second, it seemed like the part of her mask not covered by her hair gave off a red light from within the eye.

She turned towards her now retrieved dancing partner and smiled, "Sorry it took me a while, Your Grace, I hope I didn't make you wait all too long," She said calmly and way more caring than she did towards the man as she took her away from him. She knew this man wasn't gonna give up easily, but she also knew now was her time to get to see this lady like she'd planned. "Where were we... aah yes," She said, taking Your Grace for a swing away between people, deeper into the dance floor itself. She placed her hand on her hip carefully, a soft touch but clearly leading her to follow in the dance between the two. 

"I was gonna ask what such a beautiful lady like you was doing all alone on the dancefloor without a partner before I so rudely got interupted by someone," I was as if she stared daggers past Your Grace towards the man, as yet again it seemed like a single red eye light up behind the mask. "I hope I was not interrupting anything. But I can hardly imagine that, considering you're probely the most interesting person here, Your Grace," Her voice was smooth and calm.

She measured her steps and placed her hand a bit higher on Your Grace's hip and for a second made a spin and twirled her right into her harm, almost being face to face for a second before pulling her back into a swing "Dear you do look wonderful tonight, but I am not the first to tell you, But I promise I will be the last," she said almost as a demand. Still, there was this slight teasing tone to it.

 

@CosmiQueen @Veil

[Azhoda 0]

Taking the time to listen to Rey, she nodded along at his words. If you're thinking you don't want to find someone because you're afraid they'd slow you down, or hold you back, then you've had exposure to the wrong kind of relationships in the past. That exact sentence got her attention for a solid moment. She was always seen as a protégée by her parents, but beyond that, she honestly did not know what else they saw, if she really thought about it for a moment. Someone who supports you, someone who challenges you, honestly, nothing really challenged her. She always aced her tests and exams and never really needed help with her projects. She really didn't understand how it worked. 

Who inspires you to do better? Honestly, that was herself. She always tried to improve herself, always better, and did not want to be left behind, so she pushed herself beyond what she usually would do. But what Rey said did seem nice, someone who was always there, someone you could rely on to not mess things up for you and keep you grounded. Grounded was a funny expression to Az, as she was never grounded. "To have someone there you know got your back when you're falling," she said quietly, but nodded as if to say she understood, though her face told all that she kind of was lost on what Rey was meaning.

Then, suddenly, the questioning turned on her. Snap, Az spoke too much about her own stuff; she didn't realize she was talking about the projects she had lying back home. "Um ah... First, could u just call me Az... Miss seems too old, I'm only just twenty-one." She paused a bit and scratched the back of her head. Honestly, it's not that she did not like talking about her projects; she would love to. It's just that she was already expecting the same reaction from her parents' dismissal. But against her better judgment, she spoke up. "Well... I am an engineer. An aeronautical or other plane engineer." She paused, and a small smile appeared on her face, "So the current project I was working on is a single-person glider. I gotta work out the aerodynamics of the glider, the wing span, and the weight and distribution of the plane itself. If I can't walk freely on the ground, I can always try flying," she said as she tapped her leg with her hand, kind of forgetting that her disability wouldn't show up in the game at all. But it got her to stare at her legs for a moment and make a soft chuckle. "I guess I figure out why I am here truly," she said, a bit soft and a bit sad. A weak smile reappeared on her face as she turned to Rey.

@Reytac

[Winnie 0]

The world narrowed to the heat of his breath against her skin. When he told her that he wouldn't stop, wouldn't leave her blind and reaching in the dark, something within her buckled. Not in fear- in recognition. The words he had spoken had landed in the hollow places she'd carried for too long, places she had taught herself to ignore. She gripped his shirt, fabric curling between fingers, she gripped it as though the act itself could anchor her against the storm that raged inside. 

His hands left her, working at his tie, he pulled it loose, discarding his coat all at the same time. Her hands trailed down his chest as he moved. He reached down, gripping a hand, bringing it up to his collar, hooking her finger under the fabric. Her eyes flicked from her hand to his eyes, his gaze didnt waver, she understood. Her heart skipped, fingers beginning to work, she pulled his tie loose, putting it aside, fingers moved again, reaching each button in a deliberate undoing motion. She took her time, there was no rush. Each button had been undone, she stared a moment, eyes meeting raw flesh. Her actions had been satisfactory, for his hands found her again, gripping her sides, fingers trailing down her ribs cage, settling on her hips. Her breath hitched, eyes flicking to his, the feeling of fabric beginning to fall down, draping into a puddle. 

He guided her leg, her body answering before her mind could catch up. The shift made her gasp, a soft, startled sound that escaped before she could hide it. She clung tighter, chest pressed to his, instinctively seeking solidity. It felt like falling, but into arms that held her rather than let her plummet. Her mind scrambled for meaning, while her body understood something older than reason. 

His mouth found her throat again, trailing warmth, that made her shiver from the inside out. Every place his lips touched, felt as though it belonged to a version of herself she didn't yet know. Her hands moved without intention or practice, smoothing over his shoulders, gripping him when the sensations grew to sharp for comprehension. She wasn't guiding him, she was reacting, yielding in small trembles and unsteady breaths that told him where her experience lived. 

"I won't leave you in the dark." She believed him without another thought. She knew somehow, he meant what he said with more depth than she understood. He leaned down, whispering to her, his deep, husky voice trailing into her ear. 

"You wont shatter. You're allowed to do what you want. Who you want, as you please."

He moved again, gripping her hand, his touch was gentle, precise, almost claiming. He rose her hand above her head, her breath stuttered. In fear? No, she wasn't afraid of him, it was never fear, this time it was unfamiliarity that unfurled from deep inside her chest, a sensation she could barely name. The room didn't feel dangerous. His grip wasn't a cage. It was a promise: I'm here. I'm not leaving. 

Her fingers tightened around his as if to say she understood. 

She felt him watching her, reading her the way he seemed to read everything. But this time, his gaze didn't cause her to want to shrink. It made her ache. This was it, the root of her fear. This was the part of him that scared her- not the closeness, not even the intensity, but the way he saw straight through her armor as though it were glass. 

She met his eyes, breath shaking, she let him see her fear, the want, the confusion, all of it tangling into one trembling knot. 

"I-" she stuttered, the words threatening to spill through, a delivery that would be soft, gentle, resolute, shattering. "I only want you Oscar. You alone." 

She reached a hand up, sliding it around his neck, this time her touch was different, more sure, sweeter. She pulled him down, slowly, and kissed him again, a kiss so full of passion and clarity it would render you breathless. 

Edited yesterday at 01:28 AM by Winnie

[Luke Pendragon 0]

Luke looked over to see a rose colored haired woman looking over at him. She was holding a spoon with some kind of food in it. He felt like he’d seen her earlier, but everything was so swirly and odd that he couldn’t say for certain. He steeled his mind when he realized that she was talking to him. He told himself mentally not to be weird so he put on a straight face and gave a gentle smile. 

“Oh, uhm… sure?” he held out his hand to take the spoon and, assuming she let go, he’d eat the caviar. Having never had it before his eyes would open wide as the flavor rushed into his mouth. His current mental state only served to magnify the taste. 

“Wow, what is this?” he asked, handing the spoon back. “I don’t think I’ve ever had anything like it!” 

He’d continue, after her response, “I’m Luke by the way. Who’re you?”  


@Ceres

[Raidou 1]

*Was a request

A later evening then the man actually wanted to participate in, usually retiring long before such low burning twilight. Finding @Ascalon in the hidden stretches of burrowed backdoors, where those that wished to sneak in would find passage. Not much in the way of discussion held with the man, a fold of the cloth off his shoulders would force it to disappear into a dimensional dresser. Within moments to the feverish orchestration of keys, his clothes would jump to match one of the twin mask. Easy representation in mimicry of a theatre of pain, one of comedy and strife. Or a facsimile of the dichotomy of heroes and villains. The Irony was, the wanderer wasn't sure which was more appropriate until he saw the color of his sleeve on a hovered hand. A ginger pluck of the connecting bridge of the icon of sin, he'd take it to his brow and watch as his cursor faded like smoke. A very familiar trick, clever but easy to yield. A disguise only superficially alone, for under any amount of scrutiny it would shatter like the most brittle glass. A solution was already underway, from his pocket a single small white tablet. A metamorphosis on demand, easy to shift on a dime should the need arise. One only need look to imagination, but was a last resort as its tucked in the upper corner of his mouth. A pairing with the heavy dose of antidote already rushing through his system, ready to resist any attempts at silent attack.

<<Sinful Mask>> Equipped

Into the deeper pastel colors of debauchery, his senses are greeted immediately with every suggestive scent. Hands seek his pockets to fit the part, a somber and dedicated walk to the bar. His eardrums screamed to life with every spoken word held in whispers, like a rowdy audience that thought that their discussions were far more isolated then they actually were. Names pick and leap from each little undertone and sweet nothing bitten from heated tongues. In the air one could taste the desperation and want, thick enough to be cut and offered on a plate. What an interesting den of the decadent, who wished to set themselves free from inhibition and expected flimsy camouflages to protect fleeting confidence. As the man took a seat at the bar, he'd tap twice with a knuckle on the counter in beckon to the bar keep. "Suicide, on rocks." The man remarked with bravado and intensity, as if this were strictly on business. A tender that raised an eyebrow, taking a trail from his face down and back as if sizing him up. Debating if his weight and stature could handle such a thing. But his observation receives no compliance, his order stood.

Disappearing away, the man shut his eyes. Allowing his ears to take center stage and start to rip out in waves. Sorting the words into curated mental boxes. A hint of acetone, of ash, of lavender, of cherry blossom. The smallest details that would be lost in the melding pot of stench, picked out like a detective and held like evidence. A rub of his finger atop the counter, to weigh its upkeep. "Quite lavish." The man spoke to the keeper as he returned with the potent cocktail. "Pay's good." The keeper responds back loosely, eyes fixated on the cup as if egging the wanderer to take a drink. The man obliges, lifting the blood red mixture to his lips with the cognac and grenadine its color. Rich and potent enough to drop a horse, and yet to an alchemist who had imbibed numerous accidentally alcoholic brews much stronger then this had built a tolerance over years it was akin to water. "Well done." the nomad drops as he'd raise from his seat.

Where all became tangled each other like clumping spider webs, god forbid when the morning came how they'd untwine without causing any tears. The nomad was purely on to investigation, a man who didn't enjoy potentially threatening secrets. A single sentence invitation, a seedy undertone and the promise of free alcohol and revelry? It didn't take a genius to look past such promises and see the potential for nefarious actions beneath it. Aincrad on its own was already under exact tension like a teetering guillotine with but a single slant of rope holding it aloft. Rogue elements were unwelcome, if this event was all in good fun then it was entirely fine. But that was why he was here as a silent guardian. To determine the truth, and keep Aincrad safe from its own self destructive and helpless addiction to temptation and hopeful wishes.

WC: 775

---

Active:
Guild Rank 5 | +5% Final Col/EXP reward
CS | Ill-Omen in Red
Mega Slime Goo Farm (because fuck it, its funny) | +10% Final EXP reward

The Wanderer | HP: 1360/1360 | EN: 174/174 | DMG: 24 | MIT:92 | ACC:4 | AA  | F-SPIRIT | EVA:3 | BH:75 | VAMP-D: 150 | LD:6      

Spoiler

Name: The Wanderer
True Tier: 21
Level: 35
Paragon Level: 166
HP: 1360/1360
EN: 174/174

Stats:
Damage: 24
Mitigation: 92
Accuracy: 4
Evasion: 3
Battle Healing: 75
Loot Die: 6
AA
VAMP-D: 150

Equipped Gear:
Weapon/Armor/Trinket: 
  - Auric Sunlight - Finality of Faith [T4/Demonic/2HSS] +3 Damage, AA
Armor/Trinket: 
  - Red Wanderer's Resolve - Sympathy [T1/Demonic/Cloth] 2 Evasion, 2 Vampiric Defensive
Shield/Armor/Trinket: 
  - Tactician's Gaze - Ogma [T1/Perfect/Trinket]: +3 Accuracy

Combat Mastery:
  - Combat Mastery: Mitigation R3

Combat Shift:
  - TECH Shift

Familiar Skill:
  - 

Custom Skill:
  - Ill Omen in Red

Skills:
  - Battle Healing R5
  - Charge
  - Cloth Armor R5
  - Energist
  - Extended Mod Limit
  - Fighting Spirit
  - Howl
  - Quick Change
  - Searching R5
  - Straight Sword R5

Extra Skills:
  - Survival
  - Parry
  - Forgotten King's Authority
  - Concentration
  - 
  - 
  - 

Inactive Extra Skills:
PhotosynthesizeBrawlerFrozen Hide
Addons:
  - Ferocity
  - Focused Howl
  - Nimble
  - Precision
  - Reveal
  - Stamina

Mods:
  - Athletics
  - Detect
  - Justified Riposte
  - Night Vision
  - Tracking
  - Vengeful Riposte

Inactive Mods:

Battle Ready Inventory:
  - Crippling Composition - Lullaby [Tierless/Rare/Debuff/Instant] Hypnosis 2 | [224055] x1
  - Ebon Star - Vanguard Revenant [T4/Demonic/Straight Sword]: V.O 2, Taunt, Blight 1 x1
  - Flash of Rejuvenation [T1/Perfect/Crystal] Mass Heal [200869-1][200876][200877][200878][200879] x5
  - Teleport Crystal x5
  - Vocal Augmentation - Resonation [Tierless/Perfect/Support/Instant] +15% HP [160898][161641][161642][162018][162529] x

Housing Buffs:
  - Basic Kitchen: Increase the effectiveness of a single food item consumed in a thread by +1 T1 slot. This can exceed normal Cook enhancement caps. Ex: A perfect T2 MIT food gives 35 MIT instead of 30.
  - Storage Closet: +1 Battle Ready Inventory Slot
  - Living Room: Increases out of combatHP regen by (5 * Tier HP) and decreases full energy regen to 2 Out of Combat Posts.
  - Attic (Storage): +5% bonus col from monster kills and treasure chests
  - Basement: Gain +1 to LD, Stealth Rating, Stealth Detection, or Prosperity to one post in a thread. Can be applied after a roll
  - Guest Room: Players can have one «Amenity» in a «Guest Room» and the «Amenity» cannot be recovered. Players are allowed to change which «Amenity» is in the «Guest Room». Multiple instances of the same «Amenity» do not stack. This buff affects the player and their choice of up to two party members.
  - Master Bedroom: -1 energy cost for the first three expenditures of each combat
  - Master Bathroom: The first time you would suffer DoT damage in a thread, reduce damage taken from DoT each turn by 25% (rounded down)
  - Extended Workshop: +2 Crafting EXP per crafting attempt and +1 crafting attempt per day
  - Greenhouse: +2 Gathering EXP per Attempt and additional +1 LD & CD to gathering attempts.
  - Dining Hall: Turn 3 identical food items (same quality, tier, & enhancements) into a Feast. A Feast contains 6 portions of the food items sacrificed. Feasts created this way cannot be used outside of the thread they are created. Limit 1 item created per thread.
  - Mega Slime Farm: +10% EXP to a thread. Limit one use per month. Must be used on a player's first post in a thread. Cooldown begins counting down when used in a post.

Guild Hall Buffs:
  - Trading Hall: Reduce LD needed for Salvage by 5 (10+ for Alchemist crystals, 6+ for everything else). +2 EXP per craft. Rank 9 crafters and Rank 4 merchants/performers receive +1 crafting/identification attempt per day. Rank 10 crafters and Rank 5 merchants/performers receive +2 crafting/identification attempts per day.
  - Treasury: +5% bonus col from last-hit monster kills and +10% bonus col from treasure chests.

Scents of the Wild Totem:
  - Kumatetsu
Wedding Ring:
  - -
Crafting Profession:

Gathering Profession:

                                                                                                                     

[Kyra 0]

“I really love this speakeasy shit.”

It was if he’d slipped into her mind and given voice to her thoughts. Blinking in surprise, Kyra loosed a laugh that rang with the crisp clarity of a bell. “Very ‘New York in 1928’,” she agreed appreciatively, twisting to peer past him down the corridor. Distant alarm bells rang in her head, as following a man through a secret passageway was the fastest way to end up on Dateline. But those words of caution were as muted as the music. She had come to trust Warren, not only for his heroics on the 29th Floor, but in all of the small things that he’d done for her since.

Besides, what kind of man primed a woman for murder by regaling her with history facts?

She allowed herself to be led through yet another hidden door, and seeing that they’d finally reached their destination, she gave a small nod. “From speakeasy to snug,” she muttered under her breath, in reference to the small, private rooms behind the bar in Irish pubs. Though he motioned for her to sit, she took a few seconds to scan her surroundings, noting the way the pretty glass bottles caught the light. Though she hated leaning into stereotypes, the dark mahogany and rich colors of the office most likely reflected a male hand. It was a far cry from the airy pastels and sweet florals that she favored, but she could certainly appreciate the sophistication the choices exuded.

Satisfied, Kyra finally perched on the edge of the leather chair. Crossing her ankles, she interlaced her fingers and rested them in her lap. “I don’t particularly mind the privacy,” she answered truthfully. Smiling wistfully, she added, “I love the energy of a lively club, but I occasionally wonder if I’ve gotten too old for them.” Her hand moved to her ear, fingertips feathering over it before returning to her lap. “I must be going deaf, as it’s so much harder to hear anything over the music than it was a decade ago. I’m afraid yelling ‘whaaat’ like a grumpy grandmother with a dead hearing aid isn’t all that appealing for either party.” 

He mentioned the drink, and she nodded her assurance. “It’s excellent,” she told him, eyes flitting from him to the glass, which she’d placed atop the provided coaster on the edge of his desk. Half of the cheery yellow liquid was already gone, the lemon twist floating on its surface. The alcohol did nothing to inhibit her, but the bubbly champagne, sour lemon, and punch of gin certainly hit like World War I artillery. “I had no idea that you were involved in this operation,” Kyra admitted, gaze shifting back to find and hold his. “Given your other… assignments… I’m surprised that you find the time.”

The words left unspoken hung between them - a small reminder that she hadn’t forgiven him completely for their strange circumstances. Oscar, and his instance that Kyra be guarded, remained a shadow that hovered over them both. But with an elegant rise and fall of one shoulder, she appeared to move on from the unpleasantry. “Was distillation something that interested you before Aincrad, or did you come into it more recently?”

Her dark lips quirked into a small smile as she amended, “One more question to add to the list, I suppose. On the floor, I asked about your French 75 knowledge - whether you were just an especially knowledgeable bartender, or a general history enthusiast.”
 

[Ceres 0]

Ceres' eyes lit up when he leaned forward, grabbed the spoon from her hand and tried the caviar. "Ah! You did it!" She said in a delighted exclamation, clapping her hands together loudly. "The food here is so good, isn't it!?" Lavender laced eye stared at him in awe, watching as he chewed the caviar. He handed the spoon back to her and Ceres took it only to carelessly toss it over her shoulder, instead choosing to grab his hand - once again proving that she was terrible with social cues- and decorum. One normally did not grab anothers arm and lead them away, but one was not Ceres. She'd offer the man a light tug toward one of the many lavishly decorated food tables.

"Luke..." She repeated. "We are at a masquerade, where our identities are meant to be hidden-" She'd accentuate this with a tap of her Saintess mask. "-and you choose the name Luke?"  She had made this mistake before, with the other girl. Unknowingly insulting their names, not meaning to. "My name is boring." She began. "So tonight, I'm cinnamon!" 

'Cinnamon' let go of Luke and gestured with a wide sweep of her arms towards the food table. "Look! What you had is Caviar." She pointed to the middle of the table, where the caviar round sat, a divet at its center where the woman had fished out spoonfuls earlier. "There is so much food here! I don't understand why more people aren't eating instead of..." She'd glance over at the dance floor - eye falling onto a particular couple that looked like they were on fire. A shake of her head, she'd never understand.

"We're in a game... so sometimes I think... what would it be like to eat things we never normally could? Do you think we could eat nepents instead of eggplants? mermaid tails? What would you try?" She asked as she reached for what looked like a lump of prosciutto upon a herb encrusted cracker. 

 

[Arsine 0]

Vitalis...

The man was sweet, albeit a little awkward - and he was a fine time - but it was not meant to be. His eyes were fixated on another and Arsine was many, many things, and as selfish as she was, she would not get in the way of another desires. Such a thing would go against her entire code. What the man would do, was no longer her concern. Arsine told the man he could seek her out if his evening went south. Being a second choice was no issue for the woman.

She placed herself firmly back at the bar; knowing full well she could drink all she wanted - an incomplete quest meant the system wouldn't allow her to get inebriated. A small glance around the room and the woman decided it was most definitely for the best. "Your strongest drink. If no mind." She said with a light tap of sharpened fingernails at the bar.

The bartender returned, a red drink with a thin layer of clear liquid on the bottom of it. The woman picked up the drink and took a sip. She couldn't quite pick all the tastes within it, Tequila, Vermouth....and something else. Another sip as Arsine twirled on her bar stool, crossing one leg over the other so she could passively watch as players became entangled before her.

[Warren 0]

It was, perhaps, the first time that Warren had heard Kyra laugh. It set him a bit more at ease. Given how they’d come into one another’s orbit and how everything had proceeded since then, he truly appreciated that she felt at ease. He mirrored her energy, kicking back in his chair and propping his feet up on the corner of his desk. The tone could not have been more different. From controlled anger to terror-struck panic to this. A true spectrum of emotions. He let out an amused chuckle at her joke, shaking his head lightly.

“That’s an amusing image,” he said, his voice carrying just a hint of laughter.

As the conversation shifted to his other assignments and how she wondered where she found the time, Warren found himself less inclined to talk about Oscar. The man was a bit of a sore spot, as far as Kyra was concerned. And he completely understood. Warren had never been happy with the “assignment.” Had it been anyone else, doing anything else, he would have handed that task back to the man. But, he agreed with Oscar on one crucial point: Kyra’s work was vital. The time he spent tailing her gave him a front row seat. He would see the same people, day-by-day and week-by-week. The state they would start in and their slow movement towards stability. He felt compelled to correct the record. That it was his admiration and not Oscar’s word that kept him involved.

But he didn’t.

“I don’t think we need to talk about him tonight,” Warren said. “And my assignments generally are Field Boss-related in recent days.” He gave her a shrug, reaching under his desk for a replacement to the drink he’d left on the dance floor. He cracked open the cap and took a sip. Smiling faintly, he placed the bottle down on his desk. 

Warren raised one hand, spinning his index finger in a circle. “They have a large wander radius so sometimes you wind up in a situation where you’re trying to leave a city and there’s a big fuck-off dragon right outside the gate. So we handle those. It takes less time than you would think.”

Plenty of time left in the day for stalker - Guardian Angel - activities.

Warren let out a heavy sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. As he did, Kyra posed her second question, then repeated her prior one. He let out a small bark of laughter.

“I’m sorry, I said I didn’t want to talk about work and here I am. Talking about work.”

He kicked his feet off his desk, dress shoes clacking against the floor as he rose from his seat. Warren stepped over to his personal bar and stooped down. He grabbed a chilled glass and a cocktail shaker.

“You’re going to need a fresh drink,” he said. “It’s a bit of a yarn.” 

Warren worked quickly - smoothly. “I was a bartender at one point.” Adding the gin and the lemon juice and the syrup to the shaker, he had to pull some ice from his inventory to complete the concoction. A faint light surged from within the metallic shaker, quickly snuffed out by the addition of the lid.

“And it’s going to meander a little,” he added as he began to shake the cocktail. It didn’t need much. After a few seconds, it went into the glass, topped with champagne and a twist of lemon. Warren gingerly placed the drink in front of Kyra and returned to his seat. With two simple questions, she might as well have asked for his entire life story. Which he would share. Warren was quite the open book if you knew precisely which lines of questioning to go with.

“Probably has a bit more kick than that last one. I went heavy on the gin and syrup,” he said. “Call it intuition, I guess. But if your poison is French 75, I feel like you’d really want to feel it.”

But as far as her question went, where should he begin? It struck him like a bolt.

“Do you remember, when you were a kid, ever going into your mom’s bathroom and just mixing all the product and the soaps into a bottle like you were making potions?”

That was perhaps one of his few happy childhood memories. His father’s belt afterwards, decidedly less so.

“I’ve always had a love of chemistry. And you combine that with the very fundamental fact that little boys just like to blow things up and we have something of a perfect storm.” He flashed her a smile. “So, I went into a field where I could get paid to play with caustic solutions and make things blow up. But, I was just a poor boy from Texas. College wasn’t happening. Hell, I barely graduated High School. So one of those fancy engineering degrees so I could go into demolitions was never in the cards for me.”

And he hated football.

And ranching.

And oil.

Not that any of those would get him any closer to his passion.

“So obviously I joined the military. Drill Sergeant loved throwing out history facts Mad Lib-style in the middle of smoking us. But they were always just a little wrong and I was a petty bastard. So I’d read damn near anything I could get my hands on so I could correct him. I thought it was a funny prank. He did not.”

He flashed Warren a smile. “That man ran me until I puked - twice. And I still maintain that if there’d been a Guinness official present I would have set a world record on push-ups.” He took another sip of his drink. “Good trade, I think.” He extended his index finger in her direction as he held the neck of the bottle.

“Because if you’d told me then that I’d have a very classy lady bright-eyed and smiling over a shared love of history, I’d probably have made it worse on myself,” he finished, a slight grin playing at his lips.

His grin widened into an actual smile as he leaned back in his chair. "Distillation though? That's very simple. I'm an Alchemist. Oscar's a Cook. And for whatever reason, his drinks never taste as good as mine. And I love that he hates that. Still a petty bastard, I think."