Murder Mischief *open*

[Leta Raz Hades]

Leta sat in a bar; bars were bad places and in bad places flocked bad and unholy people. Tonight, in this bar, in the blackness of Brazil there were lots of black people. Leta found herself watching them; she found herself hating them and their radical, tribal, erogenous ways. She sipped from her glass of water, her blue eyes sparkling darkly, a strange shadow all around her like an aura. Eventually, she rose, and a man followed her. She knew he was there, she had invited him to follow her with an unspoken word, and she had given him a look that suggested she would make his night.

This, in all retrospect’s, was a truthful thought, but as he followed her out to the car park and as he came onto her with his heavy drunken hands she invited him to do one thing further. “Let us play a game.” Leta purred into his ear as his hungry mouth dirtied her ivory skin.

He looked up at her, pausing for a moment, naughty thoughts rattling through his mind. “Answer my riddle.” She whispered; “Correctly, mind you, and I will rock your world.” She practically purred, a sensual woman as she wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders, her lips ghosting over his. He swallowed, and she could feel the tension rise in his entire being. He was dirty, he was vulgar, he was gross and disgusting; yet all of these things made him the perfect victim.

“I fly, yet I have no wings. I cry, yet I have no eyes. Darkness follows me; lower light I never see. What am I?” She whispered in his ear, drawing her in to her body, a temptress and a siren. His hands pressed into her, needing her, wanting her, holding her against the chain link fence on the perimeter of the car park.

“I don’t know what you are,” he said in a thick Latino voice, “but I know what you about to be.” He smirked, dirtily. “Well stuffed.” He even laughed at his own revulsive words, snickering like a teenager. He forced his mouth over hers, dragging her body against his as his hands fumbled with her jeans.

“Now, now silly, of course it a cloud.” Leta just giggled into his mouth, and had he not been so distracted with her goddess like frame he would have noticed the shadows growing around them, he would have noticed the lime tint in her surprisingly narrow irises. If he had noticed these things he may have paid more heed to her riddle, maybe he would have attempted to answer. Unfortunately for him, he no longer had that option. As he nipped on her bust, as he groaned against her skin, desperate to fulfil his naughty fantasy, Leta reached down inside his shirt. Her finger nails scrapped along his chest and she released unto him a nightmarish scene, twisting his sense of reality, letting him see her fictional fantasy.

Hysterical with fear she drove him to the ground and not wanting to miss the end of his self-torture she giggled magically as he ripped out his own eyes, scratching at his arms and legs and chest, clawing and cutting at his skin. Finally, when he started screaming pitifully, she sighed, put her boot on his shoulder and with a quick twist she snapped his neck.

Leta rose, smiled to herself, re-buttoned her top and straightened her costume before returning to the party. She was, of course, dressed as a cut little pussy cat; in a tight leather suit, cute little ears and a marvellous tail. But this feline was far from house-trained. Purring with the excitement of the kill, she returned to her stool at the bar.

[Matuschkin]

Few places were as dangerous as South America, especially during the night. While the slums of Brazil may not have been quite as dangerous as the ones in Mexico, it was still a place you would do best to steer clear of. In other words - it was a natural place to find a reaper roaming, feeding. Sao Paulo had a lot of gang related deaths, but that was only part of it. Things like the Brazilian wandering spider and other tiny death sentences were found everywhere, more or less. This particular spider had always been of interest to the reaper, mostly because of the peculiar effects of its venom, especially in human males. If you happened to be unlucky enough to be bitten by this spider, and you happened to be a human male, you might just find yourself with the most uncomfortable and painful erection you've ever experienced. It could last for hours on end, not to mention that it might leave you impotent.

Ah, yes, Brazil was definitely an interesting place to be if your livelihood involved death. It had been a fair few years since he'd been here last, but in truth it really hadn't changed much. The country was just as dangerous as ever. Actually, the reaper didn't know it yet, but the country was a bit more dangerous than it had ever been right now. There was quite a dangerous individual within its borders, disguised as a human being. Sure, there were numerous supernatural creatures in Brazil, but none as dangerous as this one. It was pure chance that the reaper happened to come across this being in the car park outside one of the many sleazy bars in the area.

Sensing that a life was about to end within a block of his current location, the reaper wasted no time getting himself there. Appearing seemingly out of thin air some distance away from the pair in the car park he leaned casually against an old 4x4, his figure hidden in the darkness of the night thanks to the broken lamp post that otherwise would have illuminated him. Watching in silence as the scene played out before him, he took a deep drag of his ornate smoking pipe and lightly blew smoke into the air around him. He was aware that his eyes might give him away even in this darkness as they did have a faint blue glow, but unless he made any loud noises he reckoned none of them would look his way.

The reaper would have raised a brow, if he'd had a brow to raise, when he watched the man mutilating himself in a most gruesome manner until the woman ended his misery for him. Now that was definitely not he came across everyday. It would seem to the reaper that the woman had somehow induced some sort of violent psychosis, making the man gouge his eyes out. She was without a doubt a supernatural, but what kind? He was usually quite good at determining the race of the supernaturals he encountered, but this one was hard to figure out. She didn't show any of the usual giveaways that most did. Interesting. Most definitely interesting. Deciding to follow the woman, as soon as he'd finished his business with the dead man, he thought himself lucky as the woman had been wearing a cat-like outfit. This would make it easier for him to blend in once inside the bar. If she had a costume, why shouldn't they think that he was wearing a costume as well?

Sure enough, getting inside without drawing any attention was easy enough. Some of the costumers gave him a quick glance before returning to their drinks and conversations. Another thing working in his favor was that Brazil had recently celebrated Finados or the Day of the Dead, where some people dressed up as the dead. With any luck people would just take him for someone who was still celebrating. Now, as he noticed the woman sitting by the bar he slowly made his way over there, still smoking his pipe. As he sat down next to this mysterious woman, he thought to himself how lucky it was that he hadn't brought his scythe with him. While people would take it as a part of his costume, it was still a deadly weapon, and bouncers in particular didn't like it when people brought weapons to a bar.

"Quite an interesting mating ritual if ever I saw one.." the reaper said in a low, raspy voice while gesturing for the bartender to get him a glass of whiskey. Ah, yes, black leather gloves were always useful when interacting with people. Watching bare bone moving as smoothly as a hand with flesh and tendons was usually enough for people to realize that his outfit was genuine, and not just a costume. "I would be careful doing something like that in public if I were you.. you never know who might be watching.."

[Vrases Claudt]

sitting in the corner of a bar, Vrases was making a quick dollar off of a couple of locals playing cards, a game of poker to be exact. they didn't notice that most of the cards went into his favor, nor would they notice; most of them were so wasted from the tequila that they could barely walk. of course it helped that the deck was stacked, but they did not need to know that. smoking a large cigar and reclining against the corner wall, Vrases was able to see almost the entire bar;"old habits die hard" as they say. Because of this old habit, however, he was able to see a man dressed as an ángel de la muerte walk into the bar and sit down next to a very attractive woman. Now, this wouldn't exactly be out of the ordinary, hell it had just been el dia del muerte not very long ago. But the man wore tight black gloves, and as Vrases listened in on his voice, he could tell that this wasn't a get up. laughing quietly to himself, he decided to play it safe and simply listen and watch what happened next. If the reaper was talking to someone, it could only mean that the women was soon to be dead or was not human. " this is about to be interesting" he said, smiling to himself as he won another hand and some more easy money for his pocket.

taking the money he had just won, he said a quick statement to his "friends"; "perdoname mis amigos, un momento. necessito un bebe, jaja." getting up from his chair, he thought to himself, "glad im on the Spanish side of this town. my Portuguese would never be understood by the people here, i can never seem to get the right accent". Walking up to the bar with a light smile, he sat down a few seats away from the duo with a few people between them, ordered a shot of tequila, and sat quietly, listening and anticipating how this would play out. smiling as he drank part of his shot, he smiled at the situation; he had come to Brazil for a contract, and stayed because of the things he could do and see in the country, and this only solidified his outlook on the country; a place where anything could happen.

[Leta Raz Hades]

What, we hear you ask, was Leta doing in South America? Well, the truth of the matter was that she was not entirely sure. She travelled a lot, had always done so since she had been put on this Earth, locked in this human form. She had worked as part of a circus, she had loved and hated such a gypsy life but doing this had taught her of the terrible people in the world. Leta had taken it upon herself to wreak a sort of, holy vengeance, on the wrong doers; it allowed her mischievous side to break out, it allowed her troublesome side to rest – sated with the lust of a kill- but it also meant that she was not leaving a trail; people seldom looked for the killers of men and women who abused children.

Her stool was approached as the barkeeper placed a bottle of water down in front of Leta. She did not drink, she did not try to be so sinful. Her mother had brought her up to be good and sweet, and other than the crazy blood lust she often felt, she was good and pure and innocent in so many ways. Leta licked her lips, and watched the man as he ordered his drink. A shiver went down her spine and told her that he was not, in fact, a man. She did not confront him, of course, non-humans were creatures who should protect each other, regardless of their differences. She believed this more fully, the more she witnessed the wretched humans destroying the world. Leta knew he was not the only one watching her so keenly, there were other eyes on her, other eyes that were not human.

She ran her fingers down the tight curve of her cat-suit and smirked at her new ‘friend’, her mouth curving in a beautiful bow, so feline and inviting that it would make a man of the cloth bend to her will. She leant in close to him, her hand resting on the back of his stool as she purred into his ear. “You will learn,” She whispered, “that I am a very interesting girl in many ways.” Leta commented, when he commented on her ‘mating ritual’. She found it an odd thing to say, but she supposed it only added to the game and Leta loved to play.

[Solemn Creed]

With a brief exhale, Sol sighed with resignation shortly after the woman had left with the man. He could practically feel the manslife fleeing it's ruined shell of a corpse as he died. So she had killed him, then. He came to this conclusion by the knowledge that she yet lived and lived unharmed. When she returned and sat down, Sol watched from the far side of the room as another man sat with her. They appeared to be talking.

Sol stumbled over to the bar; he was dirty, his clothes torn and disheveled, a quarter full bottle of cheap bourbon in one hand. At one point one could suppose he hadbeen dressed as simple dock worker in scuffed levis and blue collar work shirt with steel toe boots. Now he appeared just another soddenly drunken wretch, his shirt stained with various liquors, his jeans torn, and boots scuffed all to hell.

"H...how could ya?" He asked desperately, the tears of the hopless drunkard staining his face. "You..you left me an..an..an ya took em!" Sol's words were slurred almost beyond cognition "The kids!" He crowed, beginning to weep "You took my boy and my itty bitty lil girl!" He shouted at the woman in the catsuit, one accusatory finger pointing at her face. Sol's well bronzed face, framed by unruly, sun browned hair, was wrinkled and began to grow red with anger.

"No right!" He declared, thumping his fist against the bar in emphasis. "You have no right! I'll...I'll..." Sol raised his hand as if to strike her but lowered it and buried his face in his arms, slumped over the bar, weeping.

[Matuschkin]

Interesting indeed.. This woman seemed to care little about the fact that any number of people could have been watching what had just happened out in the parking lot. Odd, even for powerful supernaturals, to be so careless in the midst of humans. Her behavior did little to help the reaper understand just what it was that she really was. So far he had reached the conclusion that while she was definitely a creature of some violent aggression, she was still calm and calculating, which conflicted with the carelessness she had displayed in the parking lot. It.. didn't make a whole lot of sense. Usually there was a clear pattern of behavior that allowed the reaper to determine what it was he was dealing with, but this had left him a bit perplexed. She was not a vampyre, she had not fed when she killed the man. She was not likely to be a werecreature, she didn't sprout any claws or other animal parts when she killed..

The reaper could certainly understand what it was about the woman that men seemed to find so attractive, she appeared to be a very seductive sort. If she was hoping to lure the reaper into something by leaning in close whispering into his ear, however, she going to be disappointed. He had little interest in her possible sexual prowess. Just as he was about to respond to the woman, he noticed in the corner of his eye that someone had arrived at the bar a few seats away. Either the man, young by the looks of it, was deep in thought or he was paying close attention to his surroundings. Sure, he had ordered a drink just like everyone else, but he was dead quiet and didn't seem to be paying attention to anyone in particular. So, he was either trying to listen in on them (or someone else, that was also a possibility), or he was too drunk to even notice them. Oh well, it mattered little. The man's intentions would show in time. Asking him outright would probably cause a scene, which wasn't preferable right now. The reaper would make sure to keep an eye on the man, just in case..

Facing straight ahead he removed the pipe from his mouth with one hand and raised the glass of whiskey to his mouth with the other. Strong stuff. Quite possibly hazardous to one's health, more so than regular alcohol. Again, as he was about to respond to her comment that she was an "interesting girl in many ways", something came in the way. A heavily intoxicated man, at least from the looks of him, had appeared beside the woman. The reaper was left speechless for a moment as the man poured his heart out like he had poured alcohol into his mouth. Kids? This woman had kids with this.. thing? The reaper's first thought was that this man too was a supernatural being. It seemed unlikely for a deadly creature like this woman to settle for humans, much less have children. Then again, humans did tend to fall quite hard for pretty things like this woman here, and the reaper still had no idea what kind of supernatural she was..

"You seem to have quite a few admirers here. I had not expected you to be a mother, though. Somehow, you do not quite look the part, pardon me saying.." the reaper said, his voice still low and a bit more raspy after the whiskey. He made sure his voice was low enough that the drunk man wouldn't hear. No need to have him make assumptions about their conversation. The man sure did look a right mess though.. Something about him reminded him off the laborers of old - scruffy, blind drunk and unable to control his emotions. Ah.. such fond memories..

[Vrases Claudt]

"Well well well. whats this then? a blind drunk coming in to admire the sights? hm. did i hear him speak of children?" he thought to himself. looking over the man who had just walked in, he was unsure if this man was even human; to even speak of children with someone like the woman would have to mean that they were both creatures. but if this was disguised, then that would mean he was a shifter.... or something much more powerful. Was the woman a shifter as well? Or was she also someone much more intimidating then what she seemed? smirking quietly, he thought of his affection for this place and its oddities. watching quietly but intently, he glanced over at the reaper; seems the woman was trying to entice him somehow. "good luck with that one lady" he thought to himself. seems that the robed one was trying to figure out this whole situation as well. "your not the only one" he thought.

as he looked over the trio, he met the gaze of the reaper as he looked over the entire bar. smiling lightly, Vrases was relaxed and ecstatic. Why shouldn't he be? he had just made a lot of money, he was enjoying a nice cigar, drinking some tequila, and had met other creatures similar to him. raising his drink to the reaper in respect, he took a drink and set it down on the bar. As the reaper finished his drink, Vrases tapped on the bar and ordered another drink for the reaper in a show of good will. smiling his light smile, he waited to see how this would play out.

[Leta Raz Hades]

Leta knew in her bones who he was, she could feel it shivering through her, why was one of the Lord of the Universe playing the drunk with her, what game was he initiating and what was her part to play in it? Her eyes watched him as he approached and her eyes glistened a startling blue. Of course she would not give him away, she was privy to some of the secrets of the universe and she intended to keep it that way. As he came to her, slumped and crying, as he made his accusations her eyebrow raised with amusement. In her ear came another voice, and she did not address the drunk straight away; becoming distracted with the voice to her ear.

He spoke; "You seem to have quite a few admirers here. I had not expected you to be a mother, though. Somehow, you do not quite look the part, pardon me saying.."

Leta smirked somewhat; “Of course I have admirers, look at me.” She winked at him, still playful. It seemed almost to arrogant to be true, but she was playing a character, Leta very rarely allowed anyone to see the true her, she did not have a personality one would consider stable, in different situations she played different characters, never revealing her true self.

She was flirtatious by nature, like a cat running its tail under the nose of a dog, she liked to play on the edge of every game and she liked to cause a little mayhem before jumping free and watching the trickery consume those unlucky enough to be around her. Of course, as a servant of the Gods, as an ancestor of the defenders of the people, this was the nature she had been given when she was born. It was how she had been created, for them.

“But I am not a mother- not of that man’s children.” She told him, her voice a low purr and finally her eyes came back to the drunk.

She slide of her stool and moved to his side; for a moment she paused, then she placed her hands gently on his shoulders; “I mean no harm to you.” She whispered, fighting a battle in her head, to not fall into a position of servitude, to not give the God away. It was her nature to speak in rhyme to him, it was her nature to speak in song…and she fought that now, for it would give them both away.

[Solemn Creed]

Sol looked at the man in the robe, his mouth agape. Could anyone really be that stupid? Perhaps he has maggots crawling about in that bony skull of his,a voicesuggested. After what seemed a long while to Sol, but in reality wasn't even time enough for the mortals to blink, he thought about that. Perhaps, he finally conceded.

One gnarled finger reached across the table to poke the reaper in in the forehead. Seems found enough, Sol thought. Ah well, some head injuries just weren't all that obvious from the outside.

When the woman got up to stand at Sol's side, naturallyhe grew tense and considered eating her. With a sigh, he admitted to himself that he could not solve all his problems by eating them. Or could he?

The drunk shoved the woman away. Too much? Sol mused to himself. Nah, she totally deserved it, one vice Remundsaid reassuringly, giving him a mental post on the back. You're probably right, he admitted. Exactly, the vice said excitedly, the others whispering to each other excitedly. Now, eat her face, the voice commanded. A few waves of pain ended that nonsense. I thought we talked about you guys telling me what to do? Sol asked. Calmly.

"You." Sol slurred, more tears coming to his eyes. "You remund me of muh boy." This he said more tears coming to his eyes. "Is that you? Muh boy!" He cried, staggering to embrace,Vrases.

[Vrases Claudt]

watching as the drunk pushed the woman down, he raised his eyebrow in a questioning gesture. violence seem to be his fall back, but no matter; it was his choice to do what he wanted.

watching as the man blubbered over to him, vrases gently held the guy by the shoulders in surprise, "whoa there old timer, i think you've had a bit too much to drink. here, take my seat." guiding the man to sit down at his chain, vrases pulled up another stool and sat next to the man. " so what happened to your son, if i might ask? he run away or something?" he asked taking his drink in one hand, he pulled out another hand wrapped cigar and offered it to the drunk to help calm his nerves, which seem fairly frayed thanks to the alcohol. there was something off about this guy though. he smelled of a creature race, but vrases couldn't pick up which one. and the man seemed to act like he was in two places at once; mentally, not physically. "he has an aura of cold power though, unlike anything I've ever met before.... tread carefully." he thought quickly to himself.

as he did so, he looked over at the duo from earlier quizzically; seems like he was now involved, whether he wanted to be or not "i couldn't just be allowed to play the silent observer, could i?" he thought silently, giving a quick glance to the reaper to see if he even had any idea what was going on, because so far vrases was still piecing things together.

[Matuschkin]

Just as he had finished his drink, another one was put down before him. Well, the reaper could only assume that it was the young man who had just moments before raised his glass in his direction. A nice gesture, and quite a revealing one. The man was definitely a supernatural being. The reaper turned to face the young man, just long enough to give him a nod of appreciation. This had turned out to be quite the gathering.. As of right now they were at least three, possibly four supernaturals, all gathered here in the same sleazy bar in the heart of Brazil's slums. Interesting. Almost too interesting to be a mere coincidence.

There was something off with the drunkard that had joined them at the bar.. The reaper couldn't quite put his finger on it. There was something off with both of them actually. The woman and the drunkard. She said that she was not the mother of this man's children and, well, the reaper had almost figured as much from just looking at the man. Little did he know what was hiding beneath the man's drunken exterior. Perhaps it was better that he didn't know. Deities were not to be trifled with. There were those who opposed them openly, but in the reaper's mind that was just a way of ending your life prematurely.

The reaper would have blinked if he could, when the man reached over to poke a finger against his forehead. For an instant he felt very uncomfortable, a chill running down his spine at the man's touch. The reaper certainly had not expected that to happen. He had touched thousands and thousands of creatures, but he had never felt like this before. There was something truly sinister about this man, something beyond anything he had ever experienced before. What the hell was he? The reaper kept his gaze focused straight forward so he would not have to look at the man directly. Just looking ordinary people in the eyes was enough to make him uncomfortable. There was no telling what looking into that man's eyes would do to him. Lost in thought, the reaper did not notice that the man had shoved the woman out of his way until he had already made his way towards the other young man. "By the gods.." the reaper thought to himself, a puff of smoke escaping his mouth. That poor young man had better be careful with that one.

Turning his gaze back to the woman in an attempt to shake the uneasiness of the man drunkard's presence, he offered the woman his gloved hand. "I believe a fair amount of caution is order at the moment. I do not know your history with this man, but I assume it is best not to be on his bad side, even for people like us.." he kept his voice as low as ever, trying his best not to catch the attention of the drunkard.

[Leta Raz Hades]

He shoved her away, and Leta stepped back. She straightened her black cat ears, ran a finger over the hip hugging cat suit she wore and give him something of a hiss, the noise came from between her teeth; snake-like. But that was all she did, remaining within her adopted character, she winked at him, regardless of his shoving her and let him stumble passed her. She turned to the bar, and took her beer up in her hand again, placing the bottle at her full lips and swigging from it cheekily before placing the empty bottle back on the counter. For a moment her crystal eyes just watched the bottle then she straightened herself, pressing her shoulders back and popping her irresistible bust forwards.

She heard the reapers thoughts in her head almost as clearly as if they had been her own, and she smirked at him; still maintaining the female visage. “Mmm, if only you knew.” She purred to him, winking; toying. One of the wonderful considerations of her breed was the ability to know someone’s mind, even if she was only young and could only skim the surface. He was close enough to her, for her to know his mind and as she brushed the smoke away from her face with two fingers she found herself more interested in the reaper than one of her Lords and the handsome were-warrior.

He spoke, offering her a hand to steady herself and she smiled further; “I believe a fair amount of caution is in order at the moment. I do not know your history with this man, but I assume it is best not to be on his bade side, even for people like us…”

In order to keep their conversations intimate the leant into him again, looking like she was flirtatiously whispering in his ear to any onlooker at the bar. Of course she had no interest in him, Leta was something of a predator; like him, and she did not waste her skills on men she could not destroy. It had started with her father; that traitor, and had not ended there. Call her a feminist, an extreme one at that if you will, but she rather enjoyed ridding the world of men who did not deserve the genitals they flaunted so unabashed.

“I appreciate your warning, friend.” She spoke in her delicate, playful tones. “but it is not me this man is familiar with, it is my father with whom this man has history and that is not a story for the depths of South America.”

“Did you enjoy watching me kill?” She added, seductively; heck, Leta could have been a succubus.

[Solemn Creed]

Sol groaned, clutching his head "My wife left me and took the kids with her." He sobbed, lowering his face into his arms. He was fast growing old of this ruse. He was not used to pretending to be an old man, though when he thought about it, he was quite old. Old as death, he mused to himself.

Almost unintentionally, he absorbed every loose thought floating about the room. Most of it was crap, that junk he fed to the voices to quiet them for a bit. Some of it though, yea, some of it, pertained to him and this he mulled over silently in his head. Sol was powerful. Almost too powerful, it seemed at times.

The old drunk gave a great sigh and the rough facade he'd been presenting melted away. The disguise was shed that easily. Now, on the stool sat a young man who appeared to be 19 or so. His unruly black hair was of the darkest blacks,a true ebony color. Sol reached up to brush a few stray strands from in front of his eyes; he hated that they always seemed to make their way back there. His skin was of polished alabaster, seeming more warm and inviting than cold perfection.

Azure eyes now glinted in amusement at the three of them. Surely such eyes seemed as if they would glow if viewed in the dark, but no, they would not. His waist had thinned considerably, no longer showing the paunch of an old drunkard. Indeed, his entire torso had seemed to shift into the sleek, coiled musculature of an athlete. Sol's features were handsome once more, features seeming chiseled perfection, yet still showing a hint ofthe boyish immaturity of an adolescent barely a man.

Even his clothes had changed, rearranging themselves into dark jeans with matching black t with living dead graphics. Sol now wore combat boots, though they were still scuffed. Running one hand through his smooth black hair, the two colors contrasting greatly, Sol's smooth, almost seductive voice spoke "I do clean up well, now don't I? And don't worry about this change, the others, with the exception of you three, see what I wish them to."

[Vrases Claudt]

keeping his shock to himself as the old man faded away into nothingness, he simply stared at the man that took his place, and nearly immediately knew who sat before him; Solomon creed, in all his glory... a god. simply looking at solomon with an interested look, he kept his cool, took a swig of the tequila, and looked again to make sure he was seeing what he truly thought. yup, this was real.

smiling, he calmly spoke; " well, this is an interesting twist..one i can safely say i did not see coming. too what do we the honor of bringing about the eyes of Solomon Creed to our humble bar?" as he finished his sentence, he decided to still offer the cigar to the god... perhaps out of shock still that was coming to him in the presence of a god, something he can safely say had never happened to him. making sure to keep a calm and collected demeanor, he simply smiled at all two fellow creatures... and god. "sooo, what exactly is everyone doing here, all camped in a small, dirty bar in the ghettos of Brazil, if i could be so brazen as to ask." he spoke with a calm voice to his newly made acquaintances.

[Astaroth Merula]

In the middle of the dirty bar sat a small, rounded table with bottles strewn across its surface. And at the small, dirty table in the small, dirty bar sat a remarkably handsome, and surprisingly clean man. This male wore navy blue jeans, a similarly colored t-shirt, and a gray and blue stripped jacket. His head lay upon the table's surface, eyes closed and mouth agape. With his wavy blond hair that fell shoulder-length in a well kept fashion, his eyebrows that arced slightly towards the end, and those full, red lips on his youthful face, the male could have been the very muse for many classical statues, though he was not old enough for that. The only thing that ruined this lithe being's image was a small bit of drool that emanated from his mouth.

He had been in the bar since four, and asleep since seven. He found bars, pubs, clubs and the like to be his favourite places of frequenting due to his peculiar nature. He was not human, you see, but greater than that and most certainly more fearsome than a human. This arguably perfect man was indeed a daemon, one the more dangerous of the supernatural creatures that humans failed to realize lived with and amongst them. Hell, some of the most famous people in history had been supernaturals. Take Alexander the Great for example, a werefalcon. Or Christopher Columbus, an air elemental. Or even Jack the Ripper, someone who this man in the bar had a special connection to. So sad that these great beings were unknown to, and even denied by, modern civilization; especially his kind.

The male roused out of his sleep and mumbled a little bit to himself about wombats and their bloody schemes for world domination. Three decades in Australia can do that to a raving lunatic. As Astaroth rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and then proceeded to wipe a bit of spittle off of the side of his mouth, he looked up to the bar directly in front of him since there was only one empty table between him and the bar itself. Upon looking up their, he saw a cat-costumed female leaning into a robed man, her suit hugging all the curves in her body in just the perfect way. Unfortunately, the daemon held neither love nor lust in his cold heart, however the robed man caught his eye for a second as Astaroth saw his face from an angle. It was a skull, and the eyes, if you could cal them that, seemed to just be blue lights shining out from empty sockets. The daemon would have thought it to be some robotic contraption is not for the fluidity with which it moved; what was a reaper doing in a place like this? Astaroth sat up and scanned the rest of the bar, seeing some young man with an obviously kiss-up attitude speaking to... It couldn't be. Where Astaroth's eyes playing tricks on him, or was his mind failing him in order to be deceiving him this much?

As the daemons eyes befell the young man with the dark hair and ivory complexion, he saw this young man on a deeper level. Sitting on the barstool in his place was a much larger, red-skinned being with a smile upon his face that spoke of a childish need to entertain himself, but the eyes behind that smile gave off of a sense of cruel deeds done for fun. Astaroth stared the the being's dark horns before the image was once more that of a young man with ebony skin sitting in the seat with the others. Two words fell from the daemon's opened lips before he recomposed himself, "My Lord..."