Headache

[Illusion]

{For Creejak, the booze is his. Hands off.}

Solitude will drive any creation to the depths of insanity in the perspective of others, as when one only knows their own thoughts and speech, they forget the patterns of others, yet still want a connection in a form which bids only to their own mind. Solitude was something the elf had much of, as he had came from a guild leader of the realm, to a mere man who knew but a few, and if he knew the truth of the few his altered shape of reality might be shifted once more.

Choosing this place was a decision that his logic had seemed to forget to imput on, as if it were dormant in the train of thought that brought him here. The very land of one of his kin, one who looked as if at one time they could have been brothers of the Goddess, altered by evil and shifted by greed into a seller of souls. The outside was barren of any kindness, with blood on the walls and a loudness of vagrants of a kin of masochism and sociopathy, and then there were the regulars... The door opened easy enough, as Illusion entered bearing a red cloak wrapped around his face and body, his lavender hair poking from the hood. He had purchased it from a traveling merchant after thinking he would look superior wearing it, a sense of being tough or appealing reminded him of his youth with his partner. The dimly lit tavern was almost filled to the brim with gambling, arguments and schemes, as he Walked over the wood which felt as if it had not been cleaned since it was placed down, and even then was probably coated with a spider web only to be brushed away in a half-done manor because of annoyance. A woman lifted herself from her seat to stumble away, intoxicated enough that one probably only had to ask "How much?" to already be on there way to a eventful night to wake up with your possessions gone and your skin mutilated, seeing his seat he walked through a small crowd, pushing through a small crowd and forcing himself into the seat, waiting for the bartender to serve, and then it hit him as to where he was...

The very thought of how close he was to one who could end his life within a days fight put a lump in his throat and turmoil in his stomach for a moment, his rouge eyes flashing as his eyelids closed and he prayed for his safety and return to a neutral land, a land known not by false rulers and broken promises. Slamming his fist on the hardwood brought the husky bartender towards his location, only for him to yell as to what the hell he wanted and that he better pay in cash.

".... Whatever will get the headache away fastest, and put it in the largest object you have around.."

Placing enough coins for the night on the table, the people around made no intention of taking the money, seemed the bartender had some power in his establishment... should have been expected, not surprised he thought. Watching the coins snatched away by an amateur with the hand of a ape was amusing, yet the feeling was quickly dismissed with a regular mug of something that looked like what Kali would have fed him, if the weakling still lived.

As he was about to get ready to drink the liquid, he felt a hand on his shoulder and noticed the one who had never encountered water was gone, that's why the smell of a thousand pigs disappeared.

"...You got money traveler. Local ritual around here you see, you give me everything you have and I don't stick a dagger through your throat. Fair right?"

The elf had little time to think on how this fool will serve eternal damnation as he knew many things would happen if he did not react in a timely manor, dogs could smell fear...

"If you let me drink in peace I will fill your boots with gold... leave me be."

Escaped Illusion's lips, wanting solitude for this persistent headache to be forced out, but the other had different ideas.

"Oh...you can do that too, I need a drink, pay up now."

With the size of his hand and the way he held his shoulder with force, he could tell the man was over 6'0. Knowing this it was easy to push it off while his own right hand reached up and grabbed the back of his hair, only to realize he had none and made a swift movement pushing into the back of his head slamming it into the wood in-front of him. The regular had no problem with the blow and seemed to enjoy it, his description fit.. The talk at this point was meaningless, as a fist was thrown for it to be dodged, children always used too much force in their attempts to hurt another. Within rage a dagger was pulled, only for the elf to grab his own. A white and black dagger given to him by a spirit who had the memories of his dead lover, he lifted it up into the mans chin and let go, grabbing onto his throat squeezing while his eyes would roll into the back of his head and the blood would run down his throat... enjoying the suffering of the human, the infidel, the heretic. Removing the dagger the blood was already gone. She was always fond of magic and beauty...

Sitting down again the bartender yelled for him to be cast outside until one would care enough to listen and threw him out, he reached for his drink and noticed a red pool floating at the top of the liquid, one thought ran threw his head.. "Could this be any worse.." as he downed the drink.

[Creejak]

As it were, there were some beings that had such amazing timing in life it would often appear as though said beings could read the minds of the unfortunate, and cause them even more suffering with their spiteful attitudes. Irony was often a keen composer of such annoyances and inconvenience, sending forward minions whether they knew what they were aiding in or not. The large, wild forest cat that suddenly pounced upon the bar and enthusiastically leaned forward to paw at something shiny on the other side of the counter, effectively shoving its rear into the thief’s face, was such a creature, although he (and it most certainly was a he) was most admittedly not feeling spiteful at that particular moment and hadn’t really meant to shove its genitals into someone’s face.

“Now why would anyone be thrown out…”

Above the scene, leaning over the railing halfway up the stairs that struggled to maintain their hold upon the wall and continue to carry the never ending weight trudging up and down its spine, a hunched over man muttered to himself, wondering just exactly why a casual beating created a stir at all when they were such a common thing. So long as the dead or unconscious body was taken away and no one had to look at it, there was very rarely a problem. From behind a curtain of oily, unwashed hair, a mere man criticized what he was a witness to, judging the scene from the corner of one eerily dark eye. As he turned his head, the counterpart stared blankly, milky, unseeing, at the floor below where the large cat was finally boring of its endeavor and turning to paw at the overhanging glass wrack, crouching upon its hind legs.

“Surely not a simple murder,” the fellow continued to mutter to himself, earning a peculiar glance from a young woman passing by behind him in a flustered manner. Rolling shoulders that were less than broad, the man gazed stoically at the carcass that barely anyone had taken note of in the tavern. Although Noctis was not known for its mercy, he liked to think there was a touch of class in even the most lowly of the creatures dwelling within the darkened lands, and thus he was particularly unimpressed when the murderer did not clean up after himself at least a little. It was so uncaring, so improvised, so…unprofessional.

With a click of disapproval from his tongue, he sent his gaze onto other things, only to maintain the continued opinion of nonchalance. At last, the man disappeared back into the upstairs where the rooms available to rent were located, appearing shortly after wearing a long coat and an extra belt that had not being clinging to his hips before and curious metal rings around his knees and ankles that were attached with an occupied sheath each. Poorly disguising a limp, the man still managed to slink down the stairs in such a way that resembled a dark snake slithering around a vine, his eyes ever roaming about to snatch any glimpse of everything. When his first boot hit the last step, a barmaid with a sweet face but a cringe-worthy scary over her throat greeted him with a mildly surprised look.

”Yew ‘aven’ much come downstairs, sir. Woulja be more cozy if’n I bring summit up to yew?”

Ignorant of what may have insulted some, the girl waited patiently as the man stared unblinkingly at her until she became uncomfortable, visibly shifting her body so as to keep her face turned to him but the rest of herself ready to move away. At last he responded and offered her nothing but a dismissive grunt and a languid gesture of his hand, dragging his form past her and across the room.

As he approached the bar, he choose a seat on the end so as to not have his back turned towards the room, and so he would still be able to pay attention to both bartender and anything going on around him. Running a finger up his cheek and by his temple to tuck a strand of black hair behind his ear, his body language emitted nothing unusual save for disinterested patience as he awaited the bartender’s attention. When finally he was asked for his order, he noted the disgruntled, almost infuriated tone of the other man, and slowly held up a fist to extend a finger in the direction of what he wanted. The silent order was received, albeit with a noticeable touch of uncertainty, and finally delivered.

“Give you the drink free if’n you toss that totter out f’er killing one o’ my patrons?” The tender offered as he nudged his head in the direction of the murderer from before, only to receive a very deep and unfriendly scowl from a would-be savior. The tensing of the muscles was barely noticeable, but the half blind and currently mute customer smirked upon seeing the intimidation in the other man.

When at last left alone he relaxed, slouching forward and crossing his arms on the wood, and swirled the hard liquor in his glass, merely watching it with an air of suspicion. His head snapped up then, quite suddenly, and he stared very pointedly at the only other man sitting at the bar, to the dead body, and finally to the cat. A sharp whistle came from behind his tobacco-stained teeth, and the large feline responded, albeit languidly. The beast stretched, washed its face with a paw dampened by its own tongue, and finally meandered over to the one who had hailed it. A gentle pat on the head was all the cat needed, and it leapt gracefully from the countertop and curled about the man’s boots, purring with all the enthusiasm of a wild animal’s roar as it rested a cheek upon his human’s foot and allowed its eyes to ease partially shut.

“Most brats,” the human whispered in a silky hush, not explicitly inferring who he meant with a glance, “Know enough that it’s quite discourteous not ter clean up their messes.”

[Illusion]

The elf had not tasted poison in his lifetime, at least he could not recall the last time he was forced to drink something so foul that it swirled slow with a thick composure, the colour of what you would feed to your steed that had not produced in its entire life, and a taste that was awful at best, it's only positive attribute was that it made the headache begin to fade away, at a slow but bearable pace, that was what the coins fell on the table for only for him to have to deal in violence.

Just as he placed the sludge down and had ordered another, having to demand it in the bartender's ignorance to one's obviously better then himself a large feline stuck its genitals into the elf's face, being unable to look away he was left with the pitiful reactions of a human into attacking the creation, or trying to insult it as if it could comprehend what the elf was to say, in his mind this rang true. All creations had the ability to choose in this life, their choices determining on which side of the Goddess they would be in the afterlife, the humans often strayed into ignorance and greed, fueled by their short lifespan, creations like the one that rudely shoved his genitals into the elf's face was one that resembled a human... The headache caused his eyes to strain to focus and his hands began to shake out of annoyance that he was in a place of this class, filthy murderer's, con artists with the schemes of children, and ill experienced cheat's at best.. all hiding within thin walls allowing them small amounts of happiness and acceptance among one another as if their lives were of importance to the Goddess... these men and women would find their true end being embraced by the cold arms of nothingness.. forever stuck in a world of nothing, not even yourself.

Seeing a human sit at the end of the bar he thought nothing of his choice of wardrobe and posture, he seemed to fit seamlessly at his seat and surroundings, with the feline being quite near. He elf tilted his head and began to watch this human feeling the cats presence be lifted from the hardwood only to curl very near the humans boots.. a pet, how.. childish. Keeping his left eye fixated on this man, he was far too near to himself as the elf was concerned, the soft movements of the unkempt human's lips were sign enough it very much was a pet. Shifting his head Illusion looked at the bartender and placed his hand under the red cloak, into the right pant-leg of his tunic feeling for the long rope wrapped around the leg, tracing his finger along the rope as it twisted around his skin, he felt a knot and another piece of rope tied around it holding a pouch, loosening the knot and bringing the pouch up into his slender fingers he opened the leather searching for what was inside, if anything valuable as gems or precious as jewelery but this time was not the case, merely gold coins. The elf motioned the bartender closer by raising his voice only loud enough to seem an annoyance and not a stir in the crowd, having visual and mental conformation the bartender was paying attention.. disgraceful humans.

"Inside this pouch is my payment to you for my inconvenience, my share of your liquor and more for your greed..it screams from your eyes. Take it if you will keep this mug full in front of my face, I give you no threats, I simply hope you can be enough of a clerk to fulfill your duty being behind that counter.."

Looking to his side it was obvious the pair had not left their cousy location, a location that grew to become an obvious better choice of seating arrangement for one that wanted nothing more then to drink in peace, without realizing that time had passed, if all but too soon..Has this gone in my favor or against...shine on your knight tonight and I shall dine and drink on the sunrise in my love for you. The elf took a sharp look toward the human sitting at the bar, ignoring his companion..

"...What in this world to you treasure..dare, love?" The question was one out of place and line, could be easily misread and the true thought behind the question could only be read by one of a mind labeled as psychotic. His long lavender locks clouded vision of his face as his rouge eyes studied the human, waiting for his response and reaction.

[Creejak]

((Sorry. Less quantity, little quality, but I made you wait a bit. I felt bad. Gyuh.))


The blind eye was turned upwards from behind a curtain of greasy black hair to freeze with such a terrible force on the other man sitting at the wood as a small tug at the corner of the lips baring a sharp smirk, and yet no movement aside from the twisting of the lip came from the admittedly shadowy person sitting at the side of the bar. No movement or twitch of flesh from his breathing nor any flicker of his limbs as the skin should have twitched from tensed nerves; in fact, he was still as stone beneath the ground. His brain, however, was ticking like the loudest of clocks.

Why would the stranger care? What kind of a question was that? Did that sound like a threat? Why would a peaceful person ask that with such a tone, and not another?

The smirk, unwavering, continued to sit patient while its owner quickly raced through a cacophony of ponderings in a matter of mere seconds that dragged out. The bartender seemed to have noticed the stillness in him, however, and after scooping up the coins offered from the troublemaker, and making sure to flash him a sarcastic smile of appreciating, approached the black haired man. He started, however, as the patron suddenly flicked his eyes upwards to hold the other man’s gaze.

”R-refill?”

The bartender hadn’t actually seen the pale man take a single sip from his drink, but somehow it had become drained and sat with a horrible, gaping emptiness on the countertop. With no nod or a word of approval, the worker merely reproduced the bottle and watching his patron carefully, refilled the glass, turning away as he did so to leave the other’s presence as hastily as he could. The unblinking stare, the silence, the entranced stillness was rather unnerving, it would have appeared.

The cat, still at his feet, let forth a gentle croon and, as sudden as a hammer strike, the man sat up straight and remained that way for a moment. At last, his lips parted and he lazily turned himself on his stool, resting one foot on the lower brass rail and one on the floor, he faced the one he had deemed a brat, and tilted his head in an almost playful manner.

”Nothing.”

With that conclusion, he turned back and recovered his slouched over posture, comfortably scooping up his glass and shooting the entire thing back and gesturing for another at the same time, not even putting his glass down as the bartender returned, more curious than anxious.

”I treasure nothing,” the man drawled, letting his head roll on his neck like a rag-doll until he let it rest on his shoulder and bared a very lethargic expression to his fellow bar mate. “I dare nothing…I love nothing…” he trailed off, looking very thoughtful for a moment as though he were pondering the next question but could not remember it. “It’s not important,” he muttered in a very sudden, very embittered tone, his upper lip rearing back to expose a silent snarl as he set his untouched albeit refilled glass down.

It seemed he had had enough with the conversation, for he once again became deathly silent and uninterested in the other man. Whatever had even possessed him to answer in the first place had quite clearly been long gone and had little intention of coming back. The cat purred at his feet, the very tip of its tail flicking contently.